not remember what a hellion you were at sixteen, Nate, but I certainly do.”
But Nate remembered well enough. Nancy and the Avalon Inn had straightened him out, even given him a vocation.
“Nancy took one look at me and put me to work in the gardens.” And twelve years later, when he’d been lost and confused, he could only think of one place to go–the Avalon Inn. And Nancy had saved him again.
Moira shifted on the stepladder and sighed. Nate leaned the shears against the hedge, and waited to hear what else she had to say. He hadn’t learnt a lot in thirty years, as Nancy had regularly told him, but he had learnt Gran was always worth listening to.
“I know this place has become your home,” she said eventually, looking down at her hands. “But Nancy was a big part of that and she’s not here anymore, Nate.”
“I know that,” Nate said, trying not to let his irritation show. As if he hadn’t noticed.
Moira looked up and caught his eye. “Whether we like it or not, Carrie’s in charge here now. And I think she’s going to need our help if she’s going to make the Avalon Inn a success again.”
Nate broke away from her gaze. He’d seen the survey. He knew exactly how much help Carrie would need. More importantly, he knew where she planned to get it.
“Perhaps,” Moira went on, her tone delicate, “if you don’t feel you’ll be able to help her, for whatever reasons, it might be time for you to move on again.”
The very thought of leaving the Avalon hurt something inside his chest. Turning to his hedge again, Nate tried to make a joke of it. “You trying to get rid of me, Gran?”
“Never.” Moira snuck an arm out and clasped his forearm. The skin on her hands looked gray and tired. How could he leave her now? “But I want you to be happy. And I’m not sure hiding out here is what will do that for you any longer.”
The hand disappeared, and when Nate looked up Moira was already halfway to the path. For a little old lady, she could move at speed when she wanted to. And she always spoke a lot of sense.
Except this time he wasn’t sure she was right.
Because what would happen if he left Carrie and her boss to sort out the inn? There’d be nothing of the old Avalon left, and Nancy would never forgive him. Moira was right when she said Carrie would need help. He just had to make sure she got the right sort.
And if the memory of standing on a moonlit terrace, pressing his lips against Carrie’s had anything to do with his decision, well, Nate was happy to ignore that, for the time being.
* * * *
Carrie’s planning week swept on without her, and more often than not she found everyday events at the inn distracted her from renovation plotting. For a place that hadn’t made money yet this financial year, it was certainly bustling.
But with less than seventy-two hours left until Anna’s arrival, Carrie finally had a handle on her plan. She’d done the research, she had the builder’s quotes Nancy had left, although she didn’t know how useful they’d be, since the firm had apparently gone bust since then. Still, she had another firm coming ’round later and she even had the beginnings of a timetable. All she needed now was the time and space to put it all together into a winning presentation.
Which was why she was spending Friday afternoon hiding in the seldom-used Green Room, trying to ignore the moth-print wallpaper and the faded velvet curtains that looked and smelled like moss. Replacing them, creepy as they were, was so far down her list she really didn’t have time to start obsessing about them now.
But the Green Room did have some things going for it. It was at the far end of the west side of the building, it had enough floor- and bed-space to spread out all her notes and good light streamed through the large bay window facing south over the woods.
And, most importantly, no one would ever think to look for her there.
“By the time I leave this room, I’m going to
But Nate remembered well enough. Nancy and the Avalon Inn had straightened him out, even given him a vocation.
“Nancy took one look at me and put me to work in the gardens.” And twelve years later, when he’d been lost and confused, he could only think of one place to go–the Avalon Inn. And Nancy had saved him again.
Moira shifted on the stepladder and sighed. Nate leaned the shears against the hedge, and waited to hear what else she had to say. He hadn’t learnt a lot in thirty years, as Nancy had regularly told him, but he had learnt Gran was always worth listening to.
“I know this place has become your home,” she said eventually, looking down at her hands. “But Nancy was a big part of that and she’s not here anymore, Nate.”
“I know that,” Nate said, trying not to let his irritation show. As if he hadn’t noticed.
Moira looked up and caught his eye. “Whether we like it or not, Carrie’s in charge here now. And I think she’s going to need our help if she’s going to make the Avalon Inn a success again.”
Nate broke away from her gaze. He’d seen the survey. He knew exactly how much help Carrie would need. More importantly, he knew where she planned to get it.
“Perhaps,” Moira went on, her tone delicate, “if you don’t feel you’ll be able to help her, for whatever reasons, it might be time for you to move on again.”
The very thought of leaving the Avalon hurt something inside his chest. Turning to his hedge again, Nate tried to make a joke of it. “You trying to get rid of me, Gran?”
“Never.” Moira snuck an arm out and clasped his forearm. The skin on her hands looked gray and tired. How could he leave her now? “But I want you to be happy. And I’m not sure hiding out here is what will do that for you any longer.”
The hand disappeared, and when Nate looked up Moira was already halfway to the path. For a little old lady, she could move at speed when she wanted to. And she always spoke a lot of sense.
Except this time he wasn’t sure she was right.
Because what would happen if he left Carrie and her boss to sort out the inn? There’d be nothing of the old Avalon left, and Nancy would never forgive him. Moira was right when she said Carrie would need help. He just had to make sure she got the right sort.
And if the memory of standing on a moonlit terrace, pressing his lips against Carrie’s had anything to do with his decision, well, Nate was happy to ignore that, for the time being.
* * * *
Carrie’s planning week swept on without her, and more often than not she found everyday events at the inn distracted her from renovation plotting. For a place that hadn’t made money yet this financial year, it was certainly bustling.
But with less than seventy-two hours left until Anna’s arrival, Carrie finally had a handle on her plan. She’d done the research, she had the builder’s quotes Nancy had left, although she didn’t know how useful they’d be, since the firm had apparently gone bust since then. Still, she had another firm coming ’round later and she even had the beginnings of a timetable. All she needed now was the time and space to put it all together into a winning presentation.
Which was why she was spending Friday afternoon hiding in the seldom-used Green Room, trying to ignore the moth-print wallpaper and the faded velvet curtains that looked and smelled like moss. Replacing them, creepy as they were, was so far down her list she really didn’t have time to start obsessing about them now.
But the Green Room did have some things going for it. It was at the far end of the west side of the building, it had enough floor- and bed-space to spread out all her notes and good light streamed through the large bay window facing south over the woods.
And, most importantly, no one would ever think to look for her there.
“By the time I leave this room, I’m going to
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