Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
A s Ashley climbed to the top of the hill, she stumbled. Righting herself, she braced her hands on either side of her waist. Huffing and puffing told her more about her physical fitness than she cared to know. Of course, struggling in a nice outfit only added to the drama.
She was glad she’d put on sneakers before setting off from the Inn to her destination. The highest point in town was roughly a quarter of a mile east of the resort, overlooking the lake, and belonged to her family’s property. The Hales had claimed a large portion of Loon Lake, selling parcels over the century but maintaining this secluded patch and the boardwalk as the farthest reaches of the empire.
Her dress clung to her back. Sweat beaded on her brow. She should have changed clothes. Once he had suggested the same, however, she refused. The dynamic between them had shifted. He’d always obeyed her orders. As the unquestioned boss, he expected her to listen to his demands. She bristled.
Conventional wisdom told her she should have swallowed her pride. But she hated that phrase. She wasn’t opposed to benefitting from the intellect of others. She appreciated learning from those who had gone before and avoided repeating obvious mistakes.
What bugged her was the word conventional. It implied following along blindly to someone else’s standards. She preferred to travel in her own direction and walked away.
She might have wiped that smug look off his face if she’d told him she wanted to head to the cemetery to pay her respects. But she didn’t need to justify her actions. She wouldn’t explain or complain. Relearning how to interact with him would be more complicated than she’d first thought.
The breeze picked up, tickling her cheeks. She gazed at the lake. The light danced on the dark water, making it sparkle despite its murky depths. The brightly painted boardwalk shops added cheer and pop against the otherwise green surroundings. The old sawmill gave her pause.
Alone on its own dock with massive concrete pylons, the building prioritized function over form. The business hadn’t been operational in decades, however, thus finding fault in the argument with its current state. Only the giant wheel was visible from the original structure. The rest of the historic building had been clad in vinyl siding, erasing any character or interest.
In contrast, the lighthouse’s exterior was fully intact and perfect. It had been off-limits for years. No one would glance at it twice. She shuddered. What if she’d been asleep during the fire last night? Smoke inhalation could have killed her, or she might have been trapped if the door caught the flames. She hadn’t considered the danger of occupying the barely habitable space with no emergency alert system before her actions. Not that she was known for her circumspection, but as an adult, she should take more care.
“Mrs. Lewis?” A deep, familiar voice called.
She turned and squinted, raising a hand to shield her gaze as she blinked into the sun.
A large, shaded figure stood in the Hale Family Cemetery.
The hint of stale cigarettes danced on the breeze. Although, surprisingly, she’d never seen the person in question smoke. Groundskeeper Willie was more myth than man.
He stepped into the sun, his silver hair and beard almost blinding.
She rubbed her eyes, smiling as she neared. But he had already turned away, giving her his back as he worked.
At least Mr. Willie remained the same. Ashley found comfort in his typical, quick dismissal.
A wrought-iron fence enclosed the small cemetery plot set aside for the Hale generations’ eternal rest. A rather extraordinarily grand vision of the legacy they’d leave, given all the challenges that arose in the years since and the decades of only children to boot.
“Mr. Willie? Now, you’re using my married name?” Ashley inflected her voice with every bit of teasing she could manage. No one called her Mrs. Lewis. Ever. Not even when she had wanted them to use the moniker. Why did her heart skip a beat at hearing it now?
He stopped at the entrance, widened his stance, and crossed his arms over his chest.
That was probably the best response she’d expect from the often-irked man. She walked toward the entrance, swinging open the gate.
Rusty hinges squealed.
He flinched and pulled out a cell phone. He held the device to his mouth. “Oil hinges,” he said, dropping the cell back into his pocket. Next to a plastic yard waste bin, a pair of pruning shears rested on the ground.
“Cleaning?”
He nodded. “Always. I wondered when I’d see you.”
“I’m a little shocked you’re still here,” she said. And she was.
Mr. Willie had a reputation for working around the clock. Constantly on the prowl, no one knew the Inn’s property better. But he hadn’t spotted me in the lighthouse ? She was glad he hadn’t, but something about the oversight struck her as odd.
Christopher gave no indication he learned about her presence from any of the staff, including Mr. Willie. Mr. Willie had been neither her enemy nor her ally. Allowing her to squat in a derelict building was out of character. Unless, he was responsible for the fire? Unless, he wanted me out of Christopher’s way? She swallowed, forcing down the lump choking her.
In his fifties, Mr. Willie was one of the people in the generation between her and Dad. Mr. Willie, as he requested she address him, had joined the staff in her early teens. While he knew her, he never had the best opinion. She’d been too old to leave the impression of a charming child. She’d been nothing but trouble from his first day, creating extra work for him after her escapades with Christopher.
Mr. Willie’s job must be easier without her around.
“Are you back for good, then?” he asked, barely above a murmur. “It’s been…different without you.”
A sudden flash of sentimentality at his soft delivery took her by surprise. “Did I really leave?” Her voice wavered. From suspecting Mr. Willie of wanting her gone to almost asking if he wanted her here, her emotions swung too widely. She clasped her hands behind her back and strode forward, making a show of studying the graves, even as she gazed unseeing.
“Things changed while you were gone.”
Like my husband. She wouldn’t lead with that. She wasn’t here because of Christopher. She’d come to pay her belated respects to her dad. The ending would be her lasting regret. Xavier had done the impossible, making her question herself. She should have been around for a proper goodbye. Not that anyone could have known. He went to bed and never woke up. His passing was peaceful and almost enviable, according to the lawyer, if someone could feel jealousy at the inevitable.
She smoothed her clammy palms on her pants. “Are you laying a headstone?” She stopped next to the grave of the mother she’d never met. The carved stone was weathered and beaten by time. But she knew it by heart, able to pull up the image whenever she needed comfort or to feel grounded.
In her opinion and imagination, the cemetery held no ghosts. She was hounded by her past and regrets far more in familiar places than the graveyard on the hill.
“No. Your father didn’t want the ceremony or stress of a carved rock. He didn’t want anything,” Mr. Willie said gruffly.
She nodded. Xavier hated the idea of being buried. She agreed with him on that one point. Why waste the earth with her rotting remains? “Seems a shame not to have a place to go to think about him.”
“Mr. Lewis was thinking of adding a bench.”
She lifted her chin. “Really? Where?”
Mr. Willie pointed to a tree outside the confines of the cemetery.
She left the hallowed grounds and strode toward the spot. A few yards away from the gloom of the tombstones and iron fence, it was a nice location. The picturesque location made her mind whirr with potential posts. Miss me, girlies? I’ve been offline. Can you blame me? Check out this gorgeous view. If she wanted Dad to haunt her, she couldn’t do more to disturb his restful slumber than overshare. She swallowed the dry laugh bubbling inside.
The longer she stayed off her social media accounts, the less she considered her faceless followers. She didn’t crave their attention and validation. She was almost free from the need to please other people. Once she claimed her hotel, she’d chart her future to please herself first and foremost.
The breeze rushed through the Aspens, shaking each leaf. She turned toward the lake and the Inn below. From her vantage point, she could survey all that her family held so dear. A good place to say goodbye. She swiped at her misty eyes.
Out of the way of most hotel guests, the location wouldn’t become a social media outpost as long as she didn’t share the latitude and longitude with her followers. She’d transition her social media into a public relations vehicle to drive business. She turned back, retracing her steps to the enclosure.
On his knees, Mr. Willie tugged at weeds poking up around the granite markers of her ancestors.
“I don’t suppose you could take me to the cottage?”
He leaned back, wiping a hand over his brow. “I can’t.”
Her heart dropped. She wanted to peek in on her old home.
He slipped a hand into his pocket and retrieved a keychain. He examined the tag and tossed the keys to her.
With a start, she reached forward and caught the keys.
“It’s vacant today. Housekeeping might be cleaning before the next crowd. Lock up when you leave.”
“Thank you.” She pressed the keys between her palms. Turning, she strode down the hill and continued toward the cottage.
The former stables had been abandoned her entire life and her father’s before her. She’d spent years daydreaming about it, utilizing it as a clubhouse and stage in childhood before the idea of moving out of the Inn and into the ramshackle stone walls. At first, she had set up an air mattress inside a tent in the open room with the sloped, brick floor. After a battle of wills, her father had given in and set her up with a budget and help.
She approached the building and slowed her steps, taking in every change. Calling it the cottage was a misnomer to make it seem quaint. The building was large enough to house carriages and horses. At nearly nine thousand square feet, she hadn’t had plans of taking over the entire space. She’d happily claimed one-third of the building.
The stables had been further divided, an idea Xavier had shot down when she’d broached it. Christopher must have taken the lead. Her father would not have pushed ahead with more renovation. Christopher would have championed the expansion after the success of the cottage.
Her idea had sparked change. She would use every ounce of her creativity in running the Inn.
Outside the painted green door of her former home, she slipped the key into the deadbolt. The lock twisted open. And she stopped.
Her heart leaped into her throat. A dull ache settled in her cold, heavy limbs. From the outside, Loon Lake hadn’t experienced any significant transformations. The little adaptations she learned about, from how the business had expanded to her father’s final resting place, added up to one irrefutable fact.
She had been gone, and life had continued without her. She wasn’t selfish enough to pretend the community had been held in stasis while she was absent. But this was one instance where she didn’t want to know how time marched on. She didn’t want to see what had changed on the other side of the door of her beloved home.
Maybe he had kept her paint colors and the cobbled-together kitchen, assembled from various reclaimed cabinets found on the property and at the town dump. Maybe he had upgraded the bathroom and installed the clawfoot tub she’d always talked about. Maybe he had left the building as a time capsule to their early days.
But probably he hadn’t.
As a businessman, he would have swept in with his cool efficiency and erased everything nostalgic. She wasn’t ready to accept how much the world moved forward while she was trapped in the past.
Instead of facing the situation head on, she locked the door, pocketed the key, and turned away. What were the odds that she’d come here to frighten her husband off the property and really only succeeded in finding all her old ghosts?
* * *
Striding out the front door and down the covered porch toward the gravel path, Christopher wasn’t looking for his wife. Stalking her was too much. While he’d admit his curiosity peaked earlier, tangling up with an unexpected surge of jealousy, he had calmed down over the past hour. Rationality surged, subduing the excess of emotions, and he reasoned he could give her a little leeway. She hadn’t rejected the schedule outright. She had merely said she had business to attend. He understood the value of seeing commitments through to completion.
As long as it’s not romance . He gritted his teeth. He might have growled.
“Oh, hello,” she said.
He lifted his head and spotted her.
She walked towards him from the direction of the cottage.
His heart caught in his throat. He shouldn’t read into her visiting their former love nest. But she told him she had a big, important errand. Perhaps a sudden longing for the good old days prompted her.
He was disappointed by how the idea heartened him. She could have been curious about the updates. Then he’d have to be worried about what she’d think. She never wasted a chance to offer an opinion.
When he had renovated the other two spaces in the stables, he’d planned to update the worn-out features of their home for guests. He hadn’t let the crew do much more than slap fresh paint on the walls and remove their belongings. Without their things, the cottage lost its coziness and intimacy. He had no qualms about renting the space to guests with the heart of their home long gone.
He cleared his throat. “Hello. Are you heading to the movie? You still have time to make it.”
“Yes, I’ll head over there now.”
She sounded a little strained. Did she stop herself from rolling her eyes? He wasn’t a nag and had never micromanaged her. But he had found a skill in being the one in charge.
“What are you doing? Looking for me?” She arched a brow, and the tilt of her mouth gave her lopsided expression a coy hint.
It did something to him. He hadn’t had a visceral response in years. With her, he felt the overwhelming urge to kiss her until she had an entirely different reason to smile. If she could think straight. If he could remember why he grabbed her.
She stared at him pointedly.
He coughed. “Not quite. I was taking a walk to clear my head and get out of the building. I try to get fresh air every day, or it feels like I’m trapped under glass.”
She rubbed her hands together, her gaze darting side to side. “Are you sure you want people to see us together?”
He shrugged. “It’s sort of inevitable, isn’t it? We’re still married.”
She had no response.
If she was worried about being spotted together, she shouldn’t have introduced herself to the staff as Mrs. Hale-Lewis. His employees reported their initial meeting as soon as it happened. Distancing herself now didn’t make sense. It was foolish to think they could pretend nothing shifted, or they hadn’t evolved. She’d hurt him, and he’d hurt her. They had to deal with it and move forward the best they could. Something inside couldn’t help but issue a challenge, though. “Want to run the gauntlet?”
She pulled a face and grabbed her waist, her skin turning green. “My stomach hurts just thinking about it.”
He laughed. “You can’t run to the boardwalk, drink three milkshakes, and run back anymore?”
“Can you?”
He shook his head. He hadn’t been successful in their youth. “I haven’t tried. I don’t think I’d be welcome at the ice cream parlor anymore.”
“Maybe we could just do the running and leave the dairy portion out of it. I wouldn’t mind some exercise. I can’t handle sugar anymore.”
He wasn’t sure he’d be welcomed or served inside Scoops, There It Is . He stuck out his hand. “Deal.” He fought the urge to grip her delicate fingers tight and pull her close. A surge of warmth swept through him from the handshake. Letting go was never his choice.
She slipped her hand free and turned toward the front entrance.
He followed in silence. Being with her had always been enough. While she was exuberant and entertaining, she drained herself with her schemes. He liked the quiet times, too. Her company was enough.
A valet held open the front door for Ashley.
Christopher stepped back to let her pass first. As soon as he entered his lobby, he lost his grip on his new-found peace.
Steve Prim prowled near the base of the staircase.
Never a good sign. Steve Prim was a kind, if not very deep, person. The one-time high school sports star had become his father’s stooge. Carl Prim was a known bully. Christopher feared Steve would go from victim to abuser. Ashley needed no part in that, whatever happened in their marriage.
Hopefully, she hadn’t noticed the newcomer. Christopher reached for her elbow, lightly grazing it with his fingertips. Any more would be torture. She wasn’t back to reconcile. She was here to destroy his whole world. He couldn’t hand her the keys and walk away.
She turned toward him.
“The movie starts soon,” he said. “I’ll meet you there.”
She shook her head. “Let me join you.”
She recognized Steve and knew he’d only come for business. Christopher gritted his back molars. “Can you be a silent partner?”
“Hardly.” She chuckled. “But I won’t deliberately step in your way. I’m curious. If I take over, I’ll need to work with the Prims.”
At least she was honest. Christopher didn’t want or need a complication in the surprise meeting with a vendor. But perhaps a glimpse of his reality would wake her up. Maybe she’d walk away. Again. “Alright.”
Crossing the entryway together, he extended a hand as he approached the younger Mr. Prim. “Steve, hello, I didn’t know we had plans to meet today.”
Steve widened his eyes. “Ashley?”
“Hi, Steve, it’s been a while. Nice to see you.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
Judging by the man’s shock, he wasn’t a candidate for the secret romance she may or may not be conducting. Steve had never hidden his feelings. If he was still in love with Christopher’s wife, Steve could get to the back of the line. Christopher mentally kicked himself. He had to focus. Business. Nothing personal. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Steve?”
“Right. I wanted to discuss the summer schedule. My apologies for the delay in launching the tours. The weather has not been cooperative,” Steve said.
Christopher ground his molars. He hated excuses in general and saved special scorn for those easily proved false. Today’s beautiful weather labeled Steve a liar or an idiot. Why must I choose?
“I would like to add to the tentative plan I’ve given you,” Steve said.
This was good news. Maybe he’d misjudged Steve. It wouldn’t be the first time one of his opinions had to be amended. But it had been a while. “More trips?”
“Actually, dinner cruises.”
Christopher gaped. “Our guests love the tours. They are expecting a fun day on the water.”
“Why not expand and let them dine under the stars?” Steve asked.
“Because that isn’t what they are interested in,” Christopher said. “Because it is a big undertaking. Because the restaurant business is hard, and most new ventures fail within the first year.” Christopher said the words with slow deliberation. His main argument against the idea was that it could, potentially, undermine the Inn. At the moment, Christopher’s business provided the only real fancy dining around, keeping a lot of the tourist dollars under his roof for the durations of their stays. He hadn’t heard any complaints. The Inn’s offerings were enough to convince guests to return year after year.
“What a lovely idea,” Ashley exclaimed. “Are you launching this summer?”
“Yes, we have a chef and staff.” Steve bobbed his head and grinned broadly, basking in Ashley’s glowing encouragement. “We were hoping to send updated material soon. Seth’s a little backed up on print jobs at the moment.”
Christopher side-eyed Steve at the last statement, disliking the cheap slight aimed at Seth. Christopher hated hearing about a fully formed plan like it was merely an idea.
Steve hired staff and a chef. Christopher hadn’t heard any rumors or read any now hiring posts on the town’s website. Christopher questioned the whole endeavor.
The Prims were the only business outside of Christopher’s purview. He had consolidated power to never be caught unaware. No one could blindside him like she had. Yet, somehow, someone found a way. He pressed his lips together. He had nothing to say that wouldn’t leave him with regret.
“Do you have anything you can leave? A mock menu or a list of price points on scratch paper?” she asked.
Steve reached into his back pocket and handed over a folded sheet of paper. “It’s a rough draft of the brochure. Seth is going to print them for me as soon as he finishes the menus.”
Don’t hold your breath. Christopher kept his gaze fixed on Steve to stop his eyes from rolling. Instead, a vein throbbed in Christopher’s temple for the exertion of restraint. He couldn’t let Steve walk away thinking he had the upper hand. “You have a good set-up here. You sell out most of your tours. Get your boats back on the water. Leave this idea to another time.”
“Review the materials. We can talk again. Great to see you again, Ashley,” Steve said. With a slight bow, he strode away.
Ashley opened the sheet and narrowed her gaze at the wrinkled paper. After a few seconds, she looked over his shoulder and sighed. “He left. Why weren’t you more encouraging?”
“Because… this is a… change.” The words sounded flimsy the second he said them. He had doubts about Steve and Carl. But Christopher wasn’t sure Ashley would listen and commiserate as his spouse or roll her eyes at his concerns.
She shot him her incredulous, withering stare. “Life is change.”
“Not always for the better. We don’t have to force transformation. Let it evolve naturally. Slowly.” Like us . The thought tickled his Adam’s apple. Their failed marriage was hardly the proof he wanted. Yes, they’d gone from childhood friends to madly in love. And the breakdown of their marriage—one fight he hadn’t realized was the end, when she asked him to choose between the Inn and her and he froze—only signaled they had been wrong to ever try for something more. Not that he’d regret a single day he held her in his arms. He only mourned for the loss.
“The glaciers made more progress during the Ice Age.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Give me the real answer.”
He scrubbed his hands over his face. Whatever role she assumed, she wouldn’t be his subordinate. Acting like he was the sole decision-maker wouldn’t work. He’d try a different tactic. Honesty. “Okay, it’s competition. Part of our success was keeping guests on our property. These cruises will steal from the restaurant.”
She nodded.
He felt a little lighter. Her agreement eased his inner critic more than was good. Her insistence on the plain truth revealed something he’d hidden. He’d spent years running away from confrontation by avoiding frank discussions like this. He operated as the boss and never an equal. Only Xavier had given him orders. But she challenged him in the best way. “Great. You’re on board.”
“I understand your perspective,” Ashley said. “But I disagree.”
Those three words popped him like a balloon.
“It’s an entirely new branch for the Prims,” she said. “It might not last a month, let alone forever. Why not encourage them? At the very least, you’re expanding the Inn’s offerings. Maybe it’s something different enough to encourage families to return; they feel like they haven’t had a chance to see everything here.”
“Have you?”
The corner of her mouth quirked. “I hope I never learn all the Inn’s secrets. I love a mystery.”
“I don’t.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, I know. You’re very black and white. Case in point, the Prims’ expansion. You can’t control everything, and you shouldn’t want to. Let guests create their own narratives. Give them the freedom to choose you.”
He opened his mouth and stopped. He’d totally forgotten her capability. Part and parcel of her unwavering self-confidence was her ability to jump into any situation and navigate to success. She’d drawn him in with her bravado, and he had tried, unsuccessfully, to emulate it. She always had answers. Letting her call all the shots again was more tempting than she could realize.
The concierge, Mr. Brixen, approached. “The movie is starting. Are you helping us, Mrs. Hale-Lewis?”
A funny look passed over her, clouding her blue eyes for a second. She nodded. “I guess that’s my cue?”
He didn’t reply, watching her leave and letting the moment sink in. Shouldn’t his loyalty to her family and the legacy be worth something? She remained charming as always. He’d been more susceptible to her charm than anyone else. He could see himself slipping under her spell all over again. It would be easy to let her take charge and not look too far into the future.
He couldn’t. He had to resist. Everything was different now. Especially him.