Читать книгу Small-Town Homecoming - Lissa Manley, Lissa Manley - Страница 12

Chapter Four

Wincing, Jenna moved a rented chair into place on the patio and then slowly straightened, stretching her aching lower back. She’d been on her feet since dawn, and had been bending, lifting and carrying in preparation for Phoebe Sellers and Carson Winters’s wedding reception in a few hours. Jenna was exhausted.

But she had an event to cater—a paying proposition—which was a good thing all around, and could help generate more event business if the bride and groom were pleased and spread the word. That would be gold in a small town like Moonlight Cove.

So she wouldn’t complain—at least not out loud. Besides, her aches and pains were nothing a few aspirin and a hot bath wouldn’t help. Later. Much later. She still had a long, busy day ahead of her and probably wouldn’t even be finished cleaning up until almost midnight.

Thankfully, the weather had cooperated and they’d be able to go with plan A and have the main part of the reception outside, a risky proposition for the Washington Coast. Phoebe would be thrilled.

Jenna glanced at her watch. Just after noon. The reception started at four o’clock. And she still had tons to do—final food prep, making the flower arrangements, setting the tables. Finishing on time would be close, but she’d make it. She had to. No matter how tired and achy she felt. No one in the Flaherty family relaxed until all of the work was done.

“Hey, looks like you could use some help.”

Her heart gave a little blip. She turned and saw Curt stepping onto the patio. He’d left this morning saying he had a meeting with Seth at the Sports Shack, and hadn’t been back until now.

“You’re a guest.” She adjusted the chair’s position. “You don’t have to help.”

He grabbed one of the chairs and put it next to one of the round, tablecloth-covered tables she’d set up. “Things would go a lot faster this way, and you might be able to rest your back if I help some.”

She looked at him sideways. “How did you know my back hurts?”

“As someone who’s had back problems, I homed right in.” He demonstrated, cringing and then stretching. “Hallmark move for an achy spine.”

His perceptiveness threw her a bit. He was very observant, and that, for some reason, made her a bit uneasy. She recovered and cocked her head to the side. “You don’t look like you have back problems.”

“Looks are deceiving,” he said cryptically. “I injured my back in a motorcycle accident twelve years ago, and it periodically acts up.”

“Wow. Motorcycle accident?” She smoothed out a wrinkle on one of the cloths. “That sounds pretty serious.”

“It was. I broke a vertebra and wonked up my spine pretty good, and broke some ribs and my leg.” He looked away, but not before she saw a glimpse of a shadow in his eyes. “Spent almost a week in the hospital.”

Her hands stilled on the table as horror stabbed through her. “Oh, no. That sounds awful.”

“It was,” he said quietly. “I left town soon after.” Again, she sensed distinct sorrow simmering beneath his surface, a thread of angst that pulled at her.

“Why?” she asked, giving in to her curiosity. “I mean, I would think you’d want to be near your family after such a traumatic event.”

He paused with a chair in his hand. “You’d think so. But my family isn’t like most families, and...well, my dad and I had a falling-out after the accident, and I decided I needed to leave Moonlight Cove.”

Sympathy tightened her heart. “Oh, that must have been a hard decision.”

“Yes, it was difficult,” he said with thin lips.

She sensed more to the story, but she didn’t want to pry. He was a guest, after all, and if he wasn’t sharing, there had to be a reason. “You’ve recovered, I take it, except for your back?”

“For the most part,” he said in a tone that, again, made her think he wasn’t giving her all the details. Not that he should. They hardly knew each other. “So, you want me to just put the chairs around the tables?”

“You really don’t have to help.”

“I appreciate your concern, but my back is fine most of the time now, as long as I keep active. And this is my last day until I start working, so you might as well take advantage and put me to work.”

She chewed on her lip. Point taken. And, really, at this stage, another pair of hands would be a blessing. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I did.” He looked at the chairs stacked by the deck railing. “I’ll unload all of those and you can go do something else.”

“Deal.” She gave him a grateful look. “And thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He went to the chairs. “Oh, how’s Miss Landry?”

She hadn’t been at breakfast this morning.

Jenna straightened an already straight sapphire-blue tablecloth. “She still has a headache, so she’s spending the day in her room.”

“Do you think I should go check on her?” He pointed toward the house.

“No, I just did, and she’s comfortably reading a gossip magazine.” Jenna stood back to make sure the tablecloth was hanging evenly. “She loves those things, the trashier the better.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” he asked, grabbing another chair. “She’s quite a character.”

“She was thrilled when I gave her a magazine stash a past guest had left.”

“I only hope I’m half as with it as she is when I get old.” He put the chair in its spot.

“Amen,” Jenna said. “I’ve seen what age can do to a person.”

“Your grandma?”

She nodded. “Yes. She was a real go-getter in her younger days, and after Gramps died, she just seemed to wither away.”

“Broken heart?” Curt asked softly.

Jenna’s own heart gave a little shudder; lost love hurt. “Probably.” She went over to get another chair from the stack. “They were inseparable and had a perfect marriage. I think she gave up in a way, after he died.”

“Here, I’ll do that,” he said, grabbing the chair she was going for. “Give your back a break.”

In answer, a sharp twinge zinged up her spine. She twitched, grimacing, and then rounded her back, trying to ease the ache there. She’d really overdone it. “Okay, okay, you’re right, my back is mad. I’ll let you do that for me.” It was actually nice to have help, a treat for the day, given she usually had to do all the work herself.

He shooed her away. “Go do something else, and when I’m done here, you can put me to work with other chores.”

She capitulated, “Okay, I’m going to go arrange the flowers.”

Turning, she headed into the house, and then went to the attached garage, where she’d stashed the flowers she’d picked up at the local florist, Penelope’s Posies. Meg Douglas, the owner and daughter of Penelope Douglas, the woman who’d originally started the store, had kindly agreed to order the flowers for Jenna at a heavy discount.

The yellow mums, stephanotis, white carnations, dark blue irises and ivy had filled the garage with the wonderful fresh scent of flowers. Jenna inhaled deeply, loving the aroma. She’d always been fascinated with flowers, and if she hadn’t ended up as owner and proprietor of the Sweetheart, or a teacher, she’d have become a floral designer. Or maybe a personal chef. Creating things had always appealed to her. She was definitely the only right-brainer in the family; Mom, Dad and her brother, Scott, were much more left-brained.

She went to work on Gramps’s old workbench, which ran the length of two sides of the two-car garage. She’d been up late last night setting out the lovely cut-glass vases Phoebe’s mom, Grace, had culled from her extensive collection of crystal to be used for the reception.

With necessary efficiency, Jenna went about cutting the flowers and greens to the appropriate lengths. Then, she did her favorite part—arranging the flowers in the containers she’d filled with water earlier. She hummed under her breath as she worked, determined to enjoy the peace and quiet while she had the chance.

As she worked, her thoughts drifted to Curt. He’d been through a lot, and she sensed an untold sad story that beckoned her in a way she didn’t quite understand. She knew he’d moved away because of a falling-out with his dad, but what had he done in L.A. for twelve years? Why wasn’t an attractive, nice guy like him married?

That question brought her up short. What was it about him that sucked her in and made her want to know everything about him? Well, besides his good looks and the intriguing shadows of his past she saw in his eyes—

“I finished the chairs.”

Squawking, Jenna jumped, almost knocking over one of the vases. She reached out to steady the teetering vase. “Oh, goodness, you scared me!” she said, her heart pounding.

“Sorry, I didn’t think I was sneaking up on you,” Curt said, moving around the front end of her car.

She put the greenery she’d been working with down. “You weren’t. I was just lost in thought.” About you.

He moved his gaze over her flower-making supplies. “Wow, you’ve got quite the little florist operation out here.”

“Yep, this is where the magic happens.” She determinedly directed her attention back to the arrangement she was working on, sliding some ivy into it with shaking hands.

“I didn’t realize you were doing so much for the reception. Flowers, food, all the details.”

“I offer a menu of items that clients can choose from, and Phoebe liked my ideas so much she opted to have me do just about everything for the reception.” Jenna liked to provide as much as possible because it was more lucrative to her bottom line, and lately, with the inn needing so many repairs, the bottom line was important.

“I really don’t know how you do all of it.” He shook his head. “You make me feel very lazy.”

“Trust me, lazy isn’t bad. I’d like a lazy day and I don’t see one on my schedule anytime soon.”

“Why don’t you have any help running this place?”

“I can’t afford help.” She clipped a flower. “I toyed with the idea of hiring someone to do the cleaning—what a relief that would be—but I haven’t been able to find the extra money in the monthly budget.” Besides, she needed to do this on her own; Mom would be able to run this place with one hand tied behind her back. Jenna had to do the same.

He frowned and came closer. “Is business that bad?”

“Not exactly.” She cut the stem off a carnation, trying to keep her eyes on the bouquet. “Business is so-so. But the inn has required a lot of expensive maintenance lately, and the repairs I’ve had to do have drained my funds in a major way.”

“So you own this place?”

“Yeah, Grams signed over the deed to me a year ago.” She gave him a little grin. “I was thrilled.”

“Have you always wanted a career running a hotel?”

“No, I went to school to become a teacher.” She tilted her head sideways and looked at her handiwork. “I had dyslexia as a kid, and always wanted to help kids with learning problems.”

“Oh. Wow.” He put his hands in his pockets. “And yet here you are, running an inn.”

“Well, I spent summers here growing up, and I always loved the place. It was more like a second home than an inn.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, mainly because I was out of the shadow of my brother, Scott.” She sighed. “He never met an A he couldn’t achieve, a sport he couldn’t master or an award he couldn’t win.” Mom and Dad had always been the same way. Overachievers one and all. Jenna had high standards to live up to.

“Ah, one of those.”

“Uh-huh.” She fluffed the bouquet. “So, when Gramps died, Grams had a hard time running the place on her own, and I hadn’t been able to get a teaching job since graduating from college, so I came here to help her.”

“Did you know then that the place needed so much work?”

“No, not really. I mean, I knew it was hard work—I saw my grandparents run it for years. But I didn’t have a clue to the precarious position the business was in.”

“Would that have changed your mind?”

“No,” she said. “Keeping the business in the family was just the right thing to do. And I couldn’t imagine turning it over to strangers. Some of my happiest memories took place here, in this house.”

He cast his gaze around. “When was the house built?”

“It was constructed in 1928. Grams and Gramps bought it in 1960 and totally refurbished it themselves.”

“It has to be expensive to maintain.”

“It is. Especially since Grams didn’t have the head or the heart to maintain it properly after Gramps’s death.” It had made Jenna so sad to see Grams give up on life once she was alone. Though in a way, Grams’s fading after Gramps passed was a testament to their extraordinary relationship.

“And you never considered selling it?” Curt asked, leaning a hip against the workbench. “From a business standpoint, it might make more sense to get out from underneath the burden of keeping this place going.”

She shook her head. “I promised Grams I wouldn’t. I’ll never forget the day she realized the truth of her own health situation.” Jenna swallowed the lump forming in her throat. “She took my hand and begged me to keep the inn afloat, no matter what. How could I say no?” Her dad had pushed for Jenna to take over, too. Jenna could hardly refuse him.

“And...you’re the kind of person who never breaks a promise, right?” he said softly.

She liked that he saw that in her; she strived to be dependable and steady. She’d never won an academic award or scored the winning goal in a soccer game, but she could be counted on in tough times. “I try to be.” She tilted her head to the side and regarded the bouquet in front of her. Needed more mums.

He looked at the bouquet. “It looks great. In fact,” he said, scanning all of her creations, “they all look great.”

His praise warmed her up inside. “Thanks.”

“What else can I do?” He fidgeted. “I’d rather stay busy.”

“Well...they all still need bows.” She grabbed the spool of sapphire-blue ribbon Phoebe had picked out. “Wanna help?” Another set of hands was a luxury she should take advantage of while she had the chance.

“Ah, so you’re a risk taker, too.”

She drew her eyebrows together. “How so?”

“I have no idea how to tie a bow, so you’re taking a big risk asking me to help.”

“Ah.” She saw where this was going. “Well, I know how and it’s easy. I’ll show you.”

“I’ll give it my best shot,” he said with a rueful smile. “Hopefully you won’t regret it. I’ve never been really crafty.”

“Are you underestimating my skills as a teacher?” she asked in mock seriousness, dropping her chin.

He held up his hands. “No, ma’am. I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good,” she said. “Let me tie one so you can see the general method, and then you can try, all right?”

“Sounds like a plan,” he replied. “Tie away.”

Explaining as she went, she unwound some ribbon and then set out to make a multilooped florist bow, going slower than normal so he could see how it was done. Loop, twist, loop, twist, until she had a pretty bow. Then she attached a pick with wire and put the whole ribbon concoction into one of the floral-filled vases, positioned just so, with the tails of the ribbon trailing down the front of the vase.

“Ta-da!” she said with a flourish. “A lovely bow to grace a lovely bouquet to grace a lovely reception table.”

He regarded her with doubt in his eyes. “You actually think I can do this?”

“You can do anything you set your mind to.” Words to live by in Jenna’s family.

“I’d like to believe that.”

She handed him the ribbon. “Don’t worry. I’ll help with the first one.”

“Okay. I’ll give it a shot.” His shadowed jaw set with determination, Curt took the ribbon and started looping and twisting as she’d showed him.

After a few tries, he sighed. “This ribbon is slippery,” he said after he’d started over twice. “I can’t hold on and twist at the same time.”

She moved closer, so she was almost touching his elbow. “Put your hand like this,” she said, taking a hold of his left hand to adjust the angle. Instantly, tingles traveled from where their hands met up to her arm, and straight to her stomach. A whiff of his spicy aftershave hit her in a wave, all masculine and fresh-smelling. Her breathing went all funny.

“Oh, okay,” he said, adjusting his grip on the bow.

Trembling, she let go and moved back, needing space. “So make your loop and twist...”

His brow furrowed, he did as she instructed, but after two twists, the whole thing fell apart. “Oh, man, this is harder than it looks.”

“It just takes a little practice,” she replied. “Here, let me show you again.” She took the ribbon from him, being careful not to make contact with his hand. She had to maintain control.