Chapter Fifteen Perfectly Terrible Timing
Lydia
The inn felt louder than usual when I walked back in.
Not actually louder. Just fuller. Voices overlapping, footsteps on the stairs, the faint clatter of dishes from the kitchen. Normal sounds, familiar sounds, the kind that usually grounded me. Today they hit all at once, like I had stepped into motion after holding my breath too long.
Jane spotted me first. She was at the front desk, pen in hand, halfway through something she immediately abandoned.
“You’re back,” she said. “Did you get the cherry pie filling?”
“Yes." I held out the bag to her.
She took one look at my face as she took the bag from me. Jane set the bag down and came around the desk, her hand settling lightly at the small of my back as she guided me toward the sitting area near the fireplace. “What happened?”
“I think everyone should be here to hear this,” I murmured, sitting down. I didn’t want to have to repeat the story.
Sitting next to me, Jane got out her phone, calling each member of the family and asking them to meet in the lobby.
Soon Kitty and Meri were there. Lucy appeared from the hallway a moment later, while Mom and Dad arrived together.
“What’s going on?” Dad asked in concern.
I took a deep breath. “I ran into Gavin Wickham.”
Everyone was silent for a moment before the remarks and questions came.
“Where?”
“Did you tell the police?”
“I can’t believe he would come back to Maple Ridge after what he did.”
I held up a hand and they quieted down.
“After I finished getting the float approved, I went to Charlotte’s cafe. He came in afterward.”
Jane’s fingers tightened briefly at my elbow. “And?”
“And he denied everything,” I said. “He pretended like I was the one who was confused about what had happened.”
Mom sat down heavily. “Of course he did.”
Kitty muttered something deeply uncharitable.
William rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Did you call the police?”
“I didn’t have to,” I said. “Ephram walked in.”
That caught their attention.
“He brought Gavin to the police station and questioned Wickham,” I revealed.
“And?” William pressed.
“And there wasn’t enough,” I said. “Gavin admitted to nothing and since there wasn’t a contract there is no documentation to prove what really happened. Gavin was let go.”
The silence that followed was thick and immediate.
“So he just walks away?” Kitty questioned in surprise.
“For now,” I said.
Mom shook her head, disbelief giving way to anger. “That can’t be right. He took money.”
“I know,” I said. “But not in a way that can be proven.”
Dad’s voice was quiet. “Did Ephram say the investigation was closed?”
“No,” I said quickly. “He said it wasn’t over. He still intends to follow up but he can’t arrest Gavin yet.”
Jane exhaled slowly, controlled but furious. “So Wickham gets to pretend none of this happened.”
“That’s how he wants it to look,” I said.
Lucy leaned forward. “And what did Ephram say? Exactly.”
I hesitated, choosing my words. “He said Gavin was very practiced with his responses. He thinks Gavin has done this to more people than us.”
Lucy looked between us all, her jaw tight. “I don’t like that nothing happened.”
“Neither do I,” I said. “But that doesn’t mean Ephram didn’t do his job.”
“The law doesn’t always line up with justice,” Dad philosophically stated.
“No,” I said. “But Ephram didn’t dismiss me. He listened. He believed me. And he’s being careful.”
Mom reached for my hand. “That matters.”
“It does,” I said, my voice firmer than I expected. “And I won’t have him blamed for something Gavin engineered.”
Meri finally spoke. “It might be easy to be angry at Ephram but he’s just as powerless as us in this situation.”
The tension eased slightly, shifting from sharp anger to shared frustration. It didn’t fix anything, but it changed the shape of it. We were all holding the same problem now instead of passing it back and forth.
Mom squeezed my hand once more before letting go. “This whole thing must have been very difficult for you.”
I nodded, the words landing deeper than I expected.
“I need a minute,” I said.
Jane started to object, then stopped herself. “We’re right here.”
“I know.”
I stepped away toward the hallway, drawing a breath that felt like the first full one I had taken all afternoon. For the first time since leaving town, I didn’t feel like I was carrying everything alone.
I heard Collin’s voice before I saw him walking down the hall.
“Ah. Just the person I was hoping to see.”
I closed my eyes briefly.
Of course he was.
I turned slowly, already tired, and saw him approaching with a bright smile. He held a small gift bag in one hand, the kind with tissue paper and the faint promise of something scented.
My body reacted before my brain finished processing.
A small tightening in my chest, a tug of annoyance behind my eyes.
Not fear. Not even embarrassment anymore.
Just the deep, bone-level fatigue of someone who had spent the afternoon being manipulated and did not have the patience to be managed again by a different man.
“Were you,” I replied dampeningly.
“I noticed you were gathered in the lobby,” he said, lowering his voice. “A family meeting. You all had very serious faces.”
“Yes. I really should get back to them,” I improvised, heading straight to the lobby, ignoring the fact that he was following me.
Collin smiled, confident. “No matter. I am glad I caught you at a moment when everyone is present.”
Oh no.
Lucy’s eyes met mine for a single second. Her look was clear. Do you want me to remove him?
“Collin,” Jane began, already attempting to steer the moment away from the cliff edge, “we were discussing something important as a family.”
“Yes and so am I,” Collin replied brightly. He lifted the little gift bag. “I brought peppermint bark. I had it shipped from a specialty place in the city. They do it properly, not like those gritty squares you find in grocery stores.”
Mom blinked. “That is… thoughtful.”
“It is festive,” Collin agreed. Then he angled his shoulders toward me. “Lydia, may I speak with you?”
Meri took a breath, then smiled abruptly. “Lydia has to help me with something. Immediately.”
Kitty nodded far too vigorously. “Yes. There is an emergency.”
Collin looked between them, puzzled. “An emergency?”
“Involving,” Kitty continued with conviction, “a wreath.”
Collin frowned, as if he was trying to imagine a wreath doing something urgent. “Surely it can wait.”
Meri opened her mouth to argue.
I lifted my hand.
Both Meri and Kitty stopped immediately, as if my palm had hit an invisible wall.
“It is fine,” I told them quietly.
Kitty’s eyes widened.
“Lydia,” Kitty hissed softly, “don’t do this alone.”
“I’m not. You are all right there,” I murmured before I looked at Collin again. “What do you want to say?”
Collin straightened, delighted that he had been granted the floor. He smiled in a way that suggested he believed this conversation was already going well.
“I have been observing,” he began.
Lucy gave a tiny cough. Dad’s eyes closed briefly.
Collin continued without noticing. “This inn, this project. The way you all work together is impressive.”
I tapped my foot impatiently.
“It has also become clear,” Collin added, “that while you are resourceful, the situation remains vulnerable.”
“Vulnerable,” I repeated dryly.
“Yes,” he said, nodding gravely as if he were delivering an official report. “The risks are considerable.”
Dad stepped forward. “Collin, if you are about to lecture us on finances, save it.”
Collin waved a hand. “No lecture. Only solutions.”
Kitty made a low, strangled sound.
Collin turned to me with an earnest expression. “Lydia, you are an intelligent young woman. Capable and determined. A leader, frankly.”
I fought the urge to look behind me for the person he was describing.
“And,” he continued, “you are also, as far as I can tell, unattached.”
Lucy shifted, ready to step in. Jane’s eyes went wide. Mom’s mouth fell open.
Meri murmured, “Oh no.”
Collin smiled warmly, as if he had just announced a surprise party.
“The arrangement I have in mind would solve multiple issues at once,” he said.
Kitty moved toward him, hands raised. “Collin, no.”
He ignored her with impressive dedication. “It would keep the inn in the family.”
My head tilted slightly. “The inn is already in the family.”
“Yes,” he said, nodding like I had agreed with him. “But it would secure it further. Permanently.”
Collin lifted his chin and spoke with the confidence of a man who had never been told his timing was inappropriate. “I believe you would make an excellent wife.”
The words landed in the lobby like a dropped plate.
There was a pause, the kind that happens when a room collectively decides whether to laugh, scream, or pretend it misheard .
Mom looked as if she might physically throw the peppermint bark at him.
Collin ignored that, too. He refocused on me, expression earnest. “Lydia, I am not proposing impulsively. I have considered this carefully. It is sensible. Beneficial. A merger, if you will, of our interests.”
I felt something inside me go calm, the way a storm goes calm right before it unleashes. I made sure my voice came out steady. “No.”
Collin’s smile stayed in place, as if he had not heard properly. “I understand this is sudden.”
“No,” I repeated. “It is not sudden. You have been circling this for days. The answer is no.”
He blinked. “Lydia, consider what I am offering. You would never have to worry about the inn’s future again.”
I could feel my pulse in my throat. I kept my voice even. “I am not something you use to secure an investment.”
Collin’s expression tightened slightly, finally offended. “That isn’t what I meant.”
“It’s what you said,” I replied.
He opened his mouth, then closed it, then tried again. “You are taking this personally.”
I stared at him.
“Yes,” I said. “I am.”
The room felt very still behind me. I could sense my family holding their breath, waiting to see what would happen..
“Collin,” I continued, “absolutely not. Not now. Not later. Not in a million years. Don’t ask me again.”
His face flushed. “That is an overreaction.”
“It’s not,” I replied. “It’s a boundary.”
He looked around as if searching for support, as if expecting Mom or Dad to correct me for my tone. Mom’s expression was pure ice. Dad folded his arms, keeping his silence.
Collin turned back to me, voice sharpening. “If you refuse to consider reasonable solutions, you may regret it.”
I let the threat slide off me, not because it didn’t matter, but because I refused to let him control the room any longer.
“I am done with this conversation,” I said.
Then I stepped around him.
Kitty reached for my hand, but I kept walking, not away from my family, but away from the pressure. Away from the feeling of being cornered. I crossed the lobby, went toward the hallway, and let the distance speak for me.
Behind me, I heard Jane’s voice, calm and firm. “Collin. You need to leave.”
I didn’t wait to hear his answer.
I moved down the hall until the noise of the lobby softened. My hands were shaking now, not with fear, but with the release of holding myself together all day. Gavin’s infuriating smile. The station’s fluorescent lights. Collin’s cheerful entitlement. All of it pressing in, then breaking apart.
I reached the back door and stepped outside into the cold.
The sharp winter air hit my face like a reset.
I inhaled slowly, then again, until my chest stopped feeling tight.
I couldn’t control what Gavin did. I couldn’t force the law to move faster than evidence. I definitely couldn’t stop Collin from being ridiculous.
But I could say no. Clearly. Completely.
And I had.
When I went back inside, I wouldn’t apologize, nor would I pretend it was funny to make it easier for everyone else.
I would simply continue. The way I always had, except now I knew what it felt like to choose myself out loud.