Honeymoon Mountain Bride. Leanne Banks
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“Not close at all,” Temple muttered and moved her glass of wine from one hand to the other. She cleared her throat. “I hate to be a mood-killer, but I think we all know what we need to do with the lodge.”
Vivian felt a twinge of pain at giving up the lodge, even though it was the practical thing to do. “I didn’t think it would bother me,” she said, feeling a flood of memories rush through her. Staying with her father in the summers had meant she could get dirty without her mother becoming upset. Vivian had experienced her first crush here at Honeymoon Mountain Lake. The memory was more humiliating than sweet, but she didn’t want to give it all away. “Or maybe I just hoped it wouldn’t bother me.”
Temple gave her a considering glance from behind her glasses. “But you do agree we should sell it. As it is, it’s a money pit. The cabins and main house are in disrepair, and I don’t think any of us wants to sink our life’s savings into it. Plus, Dad canceled all reservations once he got truly sick. I’m not sure we’ll get our regulars back since they had to find another resort for their vacations.”
“He was sicker than we realized,” Vivian said, feeling regret that she hadn’t caught on to his illness. But she was certain Temple, an accountant and financial planner, had done her homework on the best options for their inheritance.
Jilly nodded and tossed back the rest of her wine. “I’m just glad we all got to see him during that last month he was alive. Makes me believe in fate and luck.” She sighed. “I have practical skills in many areas, but not enough money to save the lodge.”
“Then we’re agreed,” Temple said. “We’re selling it. We may have to accept a low offer due to the condition of the property.”
“I didn’t ever expect to get any money out of it, anyway,” Jilly said.
Vivian put her arm around her youngest sister. Jilly talked and acted tough, but she had a tender heart about some things.
“I’ll find a real estate agent, but someone needs to tell the full-time employees.” Temple looked expectantly at Vivian.
Vivian frowned. “Why me?”
“You’re the oldest,” Temple said.
“What does that have to do with anything? In fact, I think you would be the perfect one to deliver the news since you’re so eager to get rid of the lodge.”
“I don’t like it any more than you two do, but someone has to be practical, and as usual, that someone is me,” Temple said. “I don’t want to overthink or overfeel this.”
Vivian understood what Temple was saying. Even though Temple could seem cold and calculating, underneath it all, she was suffering, too.
Vivian took a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll do it,” she said. “But it’s not going to be fun. Do you think we’ll be able to find a home for Jet?” she asked, thinking of her father’s hound dog.
“It’s gonna be tough. Maybe Grayson will take him.” Grayson was the lodge’s handyman and bartender. Temple extended her glass toward Vivian. “You want my wine?”
Vivian rolled her eyes. “This is going to be hard.” She hated to think about how the permanent workers would receive the news. After all, they’d been more like family than employees.
“Wish me luck,” Vivian said, snatching Temple’s glass and downing the contents.
“Luck,” Temple and Jilly said together, but Vivian felt not a lick of comfort.
Vivian winced at the bittersweet taste of the cheap wine. As much as she wished differently, the alcohol content wouldn’t build her fortitude. She would have to find it in herself.
“Here we go,” Vivian muttered and trudged up the hill to the lodge. Grayson and Millicent, the housekeeper, had worked at the lodge before her father had taken it over when his father passed away. It didn’t seem fair that the two of them should be booted off the property at this point, but Vivian felt it was only right to give them as much warning as possible. She and her sisters could request that Millicent and Grayson remain employed by the new owner for a limited time, but any reprieve would be temporary.
Climbing the steps to the large dock furnished with all-weather chairs and three well-worn tables with umbrellas, she paused and took a deep breath. She could do this, she told herself. She would do this.
* * *
Vivian’s discussion with Millicent and Grayson hadn’t gone well. Both had started to cry. Grayson revealed both he and Millie had spent their retirement savings at a casino. Millie grew so restless Vivian feared the woman was going to break down.
Distraught, Millie requested that Vivian drive her into town to provide a diversion. An hour and a half later, Vivian had carted Millie to the new big-box store, a wine shop and a convenience store to buy lottery tickets. “I need as much luck as ever after today,” Millie said as she got back in the car. “I just want to make one more stop. A couple of beers with my friends should cheer me up. Honeymoon Bar.”
Vivian twitched at Millie’s final request. Years and years had passed, but when they were teens, Vivian had once suffered a major crush on the man who now owned the Honeymoon Bar. She remembered the summer she’d done her best to get Benjamin Hunter’s attention. All to no avail. She felt the heat of embarrassment as she remembered his rejection.
“You sure you don’t want to go back to the lodge?” Vivian asked. “You have wine.”
“That won’t help me like a visit with friends,” Millie said. “I won’t be long. Just a beer or two.”
Vivian stopped to let Millie out at the front door, then parked along the street. Perhaps she could just sit in the car and kill some time checking her email. Pulling out her cell phone, she answered messages and deleted all the useless, impersonal advertisements. She glanced at the outside of the bar again and drummed her fingertips on her steering wheel.
So, what was she going to do? Hide in her car for an hour because she was afraid of coming face-to-face with Benjamin Hunter? That was ridiculous. She was a grown woman. She’d dated several men since then, even gotten married, although that had been a disaster from which she was still recovering.
Shaking her head at herself, she pulled together a molecule of the gumption she’d inherited from her father, strode into the bar and looked around. Millicent, along with a small group of people, sat at a table. A few men sat at the bar while they sipped their beers and watched the game on the wide-screen television. An older man tended the bar.
No sign of Benjamin. Her twinge of disappointment irritated her. Stepping deeper into the large room decorated with sports photos and memorabilia, she noticed a sign—Outdoor Seating. The idea appealed to her. After the events of the day, she felt as if the walls were starting to close in on her. She wandered outside and approved of the wrought iron tables and still-green plants and small trees, a courtyard at odds with the good ol’ boy bar.
Sinking into one of the chairs at a table, she let out the pent-up breath she’d been holding for way too long. She drew in the scent of a moonflower blooming as the sun began to set and closed her eyes to savor