THE IDEAS WERE pinging nonstop. Fizzing with excitement, Mariah pulled into an empty parking lot, grabbing the tablet beside her and opening up the map app. With the limited parking here in Carter’s Crossing, they’d need to set something up with trains, or planes, to get larger parties here, or people without cars from cities like New York or Boston. Where was the closest train station? Airport? How would they convey people from there? Limo? Convertible in the summer? No, that would only be for the big budget events. Maybe a shuttle bus? They’d have to arrange for a van for luggage...
Absorbed in her thoughts, her surroundings faded until a voice near the open car window broke through her concentration.
It had an impatient edge, as if this wasn’t the first attempt to reach her.
“Can I help you?”
Mariah’s head snapped up, and she shrieked.
The big head, the teeth, the tongue...it took her a moment to place the unexpected image.
A Great Dane, drooling into her car. She backed farther into her seat before the big nose snuffled her ear.
“He’s friendly.” It was the same voice, and Mariah finally caught sight of the man attached to the dog.
He was at the other end of a leash. Tall, dark hair, wearing blue scrubs for some reason. He was also good-looking, but the smirk on his face canceled out most of the benefit of a strong chin and high cheekbones. The smirk annoyed her. She wasn’t afraid of dogs; she’d just been startled.
“I’m sure he is. I’d still rather not wear his saliva.”
Okay, maybe her voice was a little...curt, but this was an expensive suit and she already had some drool on her sleeve. Her pulse was racing from the shock.
The dog’s head retreated as the man pulled on the leash.
“Back off, Tiny.” He pushed the dog behind him and leaned toward her. “We didn’t mean to startle you. Just wanted to help you find your way.”
Mariah’s fists clenched on the map. This man didn’t know her. He didn’t know her hot buttons, or the number of times she’d been offered unsolicited directions. He probably didn’t even realize the assumptions behind that offer. She had literally navigated around the globe, and she could certainly make her way around a town so small it had only one stoplight.
She’d been questioned on that ability a few times too many.
“I’m not lost.” She set down the tablet. She wasn’t lost. Planning was her forte. She knew exactly where she was and where she was going, and all she’d wanted was a few moments to work out the brainstorm she’d been hit with. This could be her best idea yet, and she wanted the chance to start working it out.
“Just taking the scenic route?” he asked, still smirking.
Oh, to be born with the confidence of those with a Y chromosome. He undoubtedly expected her to admit the map was just too much for her little ole brain and would gladly tell her where to go in that same smug tone...or maybe she was projecting, just a bit. Probably better not to leap to conclusions.
Still, it wouldn’t hurt for him to learn to take a hint. If she needed help, she was perfectly capable of asking for it.
So she smiled through gritted teeth and repeated, “I’m not lost, but I wouldn’t mind if you were.”
She held the smile as the penny dropped and he lost his smirk.
He backed off, hands in the air, Drooly backing up with him. To his credit, he didn’t call her a name, defend his niceness or tell her she was cute when she was sassy.
Maybe she’d gone too far.
“I’m gone. Good luck finding where you’re going.”
She could do without the sarcasm, too. Yeah, she didn’t need to feel sorry for him, or his healthy ego.
He turned to the building at the back of the small parking lot where she’d pulled in. The falling penny this time was for her. He was in scrubs, with a dog, and the sign on the building read Carter’s Crossing Animal Hospital.
Okay, first meeting with a local didn’t go well. For a moment she considered apologizing.
She checked the time. No, she needed to get going. She didn’t have time for him to explain how he hadn’t meant anything by it.
Shoving the incident, and the tablet, behind her, she put the car in gear and turned left.
This was an incredible opportunity. She was going to blow the socks off everyone, and then she’d have achieved her dream, all on her own. She was at the helm, and she was kicking butt and taking names.
Fortunately, none of her plans required the assistance of the local vet.
NELSON CARTER WATCHED the car pull out of his parking lot. His empty parking lot.
It was a Sunday afternoon, and the clinic wasn’t open. There were no other cars in the lot; just his clinic van. He was here because he’d been called in to help Tiny, the Great Dane.
Great Danes were known to suffer from gastric torsion, as Tiny’s owner had read on the internet. Every time Tiny ate something he shouldn’t, which he did frequently, Nelson got a call in case Tiny was about to bloat and torque his digestive tract. To date, Tiny’s digestive tract was cast iron, but Nelson always responded.
Tiny’s owner, Mavis Grisham, was a good friend of his grandmother’s, and devoted to her pet, who probably outweighed her by a good thirty pounds. Tiny was a happy, good-natured goof. After checking the dog out thoroughly, he’d taken Tiny for a walk, making sure the guy would survive his first taste of habanero sauce. Nelson was more worried about what would happen when that worked its way through Tiny than he was with what was going to happen while it was still inside the big dog, but he was due for dinner at his grandmother’s. Mavis would have to handle that.
He also wondered why Mavis was using habanero sauce but was probably better off not knowing.
Nelson had been about to return Tiny to Mavis when he’d noticed the out-of-state car in the clinic parking lot.
Carter’s Crossing was a small town. It wasn’t on the way to anywhere else of any consequence, so few people other than locals were likely to drive through. Nelson knew all the locals. He’d grown up in Carter’s Crossing. Now that he was back, his practice covered more than just the town. Almost everyone here had an animal, either for business or pleasure. He’d quickly caught up on any new arrivals since he’d left.
In Carter’s Crossing there weren’t any strangers.
He’d guessed the driver of the out-of-state car was lost, and the map open on her tablet confirmed that she’d gotten confused on the back roads.
His first impression had been good. She was pretty, with dark, shiny hair, a straight nose; her brow crinkled as she stared at the map like it was her best friend. He’d offered to help, thinking it would be a pleasant interlude to wrap up his day.
She hadn’t been nice. Sure, Tiny’s face could be startling up close, so the yelp she’d made had been perfectly understandable, but that was no excuse to tell him to get lost. He’d only been trying to help.
He’d learned the hard way not to push ideas or advice on anyone else, so he let her go. She’d find her way, or she’d ask someone else for assistance. As far as he was concerned, she could drive around in circles if she wanted.
In fact, that would be a kind of poetic justice.
He tugged Tiny toward the clinic van. He’d drop the drool monster off to his anxious owner, and then get himself cleaned up for dinner. His grandmother had requested his company because she had something she wished to discuss with him.
His mood improved as he thought of Abigail Carter. She took her position as head of the Carter family, the family for whom the town was named, seriously. It had been a blow to her and to the town when she’d had to close the mill. Since then, she’d been trying to find a way to inject life and money into the local economy.
Nelson had no idea how she’d accomplish that, but if anyone could, it would be his grandmother. He’d carefully avoided any involvement himself. He wasn’t going to be that guy anymore, the one who made plans and moved heaven and earth to get them done.
He was happy as things were, handling the care of the animal population of Carter’s Crossing and surrounds. He had his horses to fill up his spare time and energy. He had his grandmother for dinners and nagging, and friends to keep him company. He was good.
He wasn’t going to hurt anyone again trying to get what he wanted. Even if all he wanted was to give someone directions to wherever they were going.
MARIAH’S JAW DROPPED. The house was beautiful.
Abigail Carter had given her careful directions to find it, and honestly, the town was small. For someone who’d grown up traveling the world on a sailboat, finding the largest house in Carter’s Crossing wasn’t a challenge. She’d driven all through the town, examining it for potential. The town had charm and beauty in abundance, and she and Abigail could build on that.
She drove through the gates and up the drive before pulling to a stop in front of the immaculately maintained Victorian; its sloping yard carefully manicured. There was a huge wraparound porch decorated with harvest touches. This place was ready for promotional photos as it was, without any additional work. She pictured it with snow and Christmas decorations. It would be gorgeous.
She was creating the publicity materials in her head already. This was the kind of thing that would make Carter’s Crossing a romantic destination worth the travel. The excitement was fizzing again.
The front door opened, and a tall, elegant, silver-haired woman came out, smiling in welcome at Mariah as she exited her car. The woman was dressed in wool pants and a silk shirt with a sweater knotted over her shoulders. Her hair was pulled back, and her makeup was perfectly applied. In a town this size, she was a surprise.
Mariah was glad she’d worn her suit.
“You must be Mariah. How lovely to see you.”
Even her voice was charming. Mariah had had some doubts about this partnership her grandfather had set up for her, but first impressions were positive.
“Yes, I’m Mariah Van Delton. Thank you so much for inviting me here, Mrs. Carter.”
The woman shook her head. “Abigail, please. We’re partners in crime now.”
Abigail came down the steps and enveloped her in a scented embrace. She then stood back and cocked her head as she examined Mariah.
“How was your drive? Any problems finding your way?”
Mariah thought of the man with the dog and shook her head. “Not at all. You have a lovely town.”
“Let me know, before I get myself carried away, am I crazy, or do we have a chance?”
Mariah reined in her own excitement. “I’ve just got here. There’s still a lot to consider.” Seeing Abigail’s face fall, she added, “But this place has already given me ideas. Big ideas. I just won’t tell Grandfather until we’ve worked the details out.”
Abigail’s face lit up. “I’m so glad. Now, do come in. Do you have a lot to carry? I can ask Nelson to bring your things in when he gets here, or tomorrow I have the staff to deal with it.”
Staff made sense. This house must require a lot of upkeep. Mariah wasn’t sure who Nelson was, but she was perfectly able to carry her own luggage.
“I didn’t bring a lot, so I’m quite capable of handling it.”
Abigail shot her a look. “Of course you are. I’m undoubtedly capable of mowing this lawn, but I would rather someone else do it. Sometimes accepting help is...strategic.”
Mariah paused. At that moment it was all too clear that Abigail had been not just a beautiful woman, but a clever one, as well. Anyone who underestimated her would find themselves in trouble. Mariah made note.
Mariah hadn’t brought much with her because she’d had some serious concerns about her grandfather’s decree that she should stay with his old college friend. Even if she was confident she could make this plan for Carter’s Crossing work, she didn’t necessarily want to be sharing a home with someone she’d never met before. But the house was so large that there’d be no problem with a lack of privacy. She already felt sure that she and Abigail could work together. She should have known that her grandfather’s friend would be up to this. He hadn’t built his business empire by being wrong.
“Let me at least take your briefcase and I’ll show you to your room.” Abigail held out a hand.
Mariah passed it over and grabbed the two bags from the trunk. “Thank you again for offering me a place to stay.”
Abigail, holding the door open for her, waved that aside.
“This place is much too large for one person. And I’m grateful for your help, and for Gerry sending you.”
Gerry? Right, her grandfather. No one had called him anything but Gerald as far as Mariah knew.
“I’m happy to be here, and I’m excited about the project.”
Abigail’s eyes were sparkling. “Excellent. I expect we can accomplish great things together. I’ve put you on the second floor, at the other end of the house from me so that we each have our own space. I’m sure we’ll soon be heartily sick of each other and need a retreat.”
Abigail led her upstairs to a room overlooking the lawn at the back of the house. “I apologize. The room doesn’t have an en suite, but there’s only the two of us in the house, so the bathroom next door is all yours. Take a few minutes to settle in. I’ll be waiting on the porch. I want to enjoy the last of the warm days before the cold keeps us all huddled indoors. We’ll eat once Nelson gets here. He shouldn’t be long.” She glanced at the delicate gold watch on her wrist.
Mariah wasn’t sure if Nelson would be serving the meal or eating with them, but she hoped his presence wouldn’t interfere with talking to Abigail. The idea she’d been struck with when she drove around Carter’s Crossing had inspired her. She’d wanted to blurt it out as soon as she arrived, but this was important. She had to be sure she’d thought it through first.
She weighed the pros and cons in her head again. She had a lot riding on this job. She needed it to be perfect.
THE BEDROOM WAS GORGEOUS. Not a surprise after meeting Abigail. Mariah decided to unpack later. She didn’t want to be late for dinner, and she was eager to talk to Abigail.
She found Abigail on the porch, sweater now on to fight the cool of the autumn dusk.
“Come, sit for a minute, Mariah. Did you find the room comfortable?”
Mariah sat on a wicker chair with a plump cushion on its seat.
“The room is beautiful. I’m sure I’ll be more than comfortable.”
“Thank you, dear. Did you want to start talking shop tonight, or wait till tomorrow? I don’t want to press you, at least, not yet. Are you tired from the drive?”
Mariah tamped down her own excitement. “Not at all. I’m ready anytime, but if you’d rather wait...”
“I’m excited about it—oh, but that looks like Nelson coming now.”
“Who exactly is Nelson?”
“Nelson is my grandson. He’s the only family I have here in Carter’s now. He lives in the carriage house, and I insist he comes over for dinner regularly. I tell him it’s for his own good, but really, I’m happy to have the company.
“He was called in to work earlier, but he just texted that he was on his way home.”
Mariah saw a white van heading toward the house.
“Is Nelson going to be involved in this project?” The information her grandfather had provided her about Abigail Carter had been sparse.
Abigail allowed a small smile and shook her head. “Oh, no, this isn’t his kind of thing at all.”
The white van turned in the drive. The lettering on the side read Carter’s Crossing Animal Hospital.
Mariah’s excitement took a nosedive.
“What does Nelson do?” But she knew the answer already.
“He’s the town’s veterinarian. He was called in this afternoon to take care of Tiny, Mavis Grisham’s Great Dane.”
Mariah swallowed a sigh. If she was a believer in signs, she’d be worried about now.
NELSON NOTICED THE car parked in front of his grandmother’s house as he drove around to the back. It looked familiar. Then he saw the plates.
How had Miss I’m Not Lost ended up here? He’d like to see her explain that, but she’d probably get directions from his grandmother and be on her way before he arrived at the main house. That is, if she’d admit she was lost at all. Maybe she was stopping all over town trying to find her way again. She must be geographically challenged.
Happy he wouldn’t have a second meeting with her, he pulled his van into the garage below his apartment in the former carriage house and took a moment to roll the kinks out of his neck. He didn’t have time to shower, since Grandmother was big on punctuality, but he had a few minutes to change. She wouldn’t let him come to dinner in scrubs. Once in his place, he threw what he was wearing in the laundry and pulled on a cashmere sweater she’d given him last Christmas and some dress pants. Grandmother would never allow jeans or sweats at her dinner table. A quick glance in the mirror assured him he’d pass muster, and he headed over to the house.
He let himself in the back door and sniffed appreciatively at the aromas drifting his way. Coq au vin. His favorite. His grandmother loved the classic French dishes. It had been a few months since he’d enjoyed her coq au vin.
His grandmother insisted he come to dinner a couple of times a week, and he was happy to oblige her. She said he needed to have a civilized meal occasionally. He knew she wanted company. He did, too.
It wasn’t just that she was a good cook; he worried about her living here all alone. It was a big place, and he was the only family left in town. She had her staff who came in on weekdays, but evenings and weekends she was still alone.
She’d been left a widow with four kids at a young age, and he admired how she’d handled her family and the family business on her own. He knew she was working on something new, but she hadn’t shared the details with him yet. She had a good mind for business, but he hoped her plan didn’t involve him. Especially not his personal life.
There was a lot of grande dame about his grandmother.
He heard voices coming from the living room and paused. Did she have a guest? She hadn’t mentioned it. Normally, it was just the two of them at dinner.
Surely Grandmother hadn’t invited the rude stranger to stay. Better Mavis and Tiny.
He made his way to the doorway and stopped in surprise.
“Oh, Nelson. There you are. Nelson, this is Mariah Van Delton. Mariah, this is my grandson, Nelson Carter.”
Abigail smiled at him as if she’d just given him a pleasant surprise.
Mariah smiled, as well. It was patently fake. “Oh, we met earlier, though we didn’t exchange names.”
Nelson had never worried about his grandmother being scammed before, but his Spidey senses were tingling now. Somehow, he knew this woman, with her I’m not lost and fake smile, was going to be trouble.
He wouldn’t admit that part of that certainty was because she was also much too pretty for his own good.
Abigail raised her eyebrows delicately. “Oh?”
“I offered to give Ms. Van Delton directions.” Which, he could acknowledge to himself, might not have been necessary if she was heading to see his grandmother.
But why was she?
“I thought you said you’d found your way without any problems, Mariah?” Grandmother asked, frowning.
Mariah sat a little straighter. Her eyes were flashing. “I did. I merely stopped to make some notes and your grandson assumed I was lost.”
Nelson narrowed his own gaze. “Not many people stop in at my clinic on a Sunday afternoon to make notes.”
Abigail was watching them with an amused smile. Very grande dame. Nelson quickly changed direction.
“You didn’t tell me you were expecting a guest, Grandmother.”
“No, I didn’t, did I? If we’re going to keep each other posted on every little thing, then let me tell you that Mariah is going to be staying here for a while, helping me with a project I have in mind. We’d just started discussing it.”
Nelson felt the hair on the back of his neck lift. That look Grandmother had on her face meant trouble. And he already knew Ms. Van Delton was going to be a pain.
Abigail rose to her feet. “Let me bring in dinner, and I can hear more about this new idea of yours, Mariah. It’s time we went public, so we can let Nelson in on it.”
Mariah insisted on helping and followed Abigail out of the room.
Nelson frowned. He shouldn’t be the one feeling left out here. It was his home, his town, and yet he was the last to know what was going on.
Grandmother discussed things with him. At least, the major things. She’d had to shut the mill not long after he’d returned to Carter’s Crossing, and he knew how difficult a decision that had been for her.
He couldn’t readily imagine Mariah as the savior for the town’s economic woes. She didn’t look old enough to be the CEO of any well-established business. It was undoubtedly prejudice on his part, mostly as a result of being told to get lost, but he wouldn’t trust any business she was touting. His grandmother had been the town leader for so long, she’d come to believe herself a benevolent despot. But sometimes her ideas were a little...unconventional.
He made his way to the dining room, already set for dinner for three, and poured the wine she’d left out. Then he headed for the kitchen. He could help carry in the food.
He didn’t make a lot of noise. He’d spent enough time in this house to avoid the squeaky boards by habit. Just before he reached the door, he heard them talking and paused.
The phrase that eavesdroppers never heard any good about themselves wasn’t quite accurate. Eavesdroppers didn’t hear good, period.
Mariah was speaking, responding to something his grandmother had said.
“In that case, you could say that working for Sherry Anstruthers taught me everything I needed to know about wedding planning, and I’ve taken those lessons to heart.”
After that, all Nelson heard was white noise. He made himself move back to the dining room just as quietly as he’d left, but he was on autopilot.
Sherry Anstruthers was one person he despised, almost as much as he despised himself, or at least the man he’d been three years ago. He could not believe Grandmother had invited anyone connected to that woman to her home.
Maybe she hadn’t known that Mariah Van Delton had a connection with Sherry. He sat back in his chair. Right. She hadn’t known. She couldn’t have. And now she’d send Miss I’m Not Lost packing.
He found his fists clenched so tightly on the chair arms that his knuckles stood out, white against the oak. He relaxed them, with an effort, just as he heard footsteps in the hallway. He stood up when Grandmother and Mariah came back in, bearing hot dishes.
Mariah was here. But not for long.
NELSON HAD JUST swallowed his first mouthful when the hammer hit.
Mariah led off. “Abigail, I think you have a good idea, but you’re thinking too small.”
No one had ever accused his grandmother of thinking too small. If Mariah was thinking bigger than anything his grandmother could come up with, it was going to be a nightmare. Even if Mariah wasn’t going to be staying here, she could do a lot of damage before she left.
He glanced at his grandmother, but she wasn’t offended. Her eyes were sparkling as she waited, her fork resting on her plate.
Why wasn’t she freezing out this interloper?
“Carter’s Crossing would be a beautiful wedding destination, but I don’t think we should stop there.”
The chicken went down the wrong way in Nelson’s throat, and he started choking. Mariah frowned at him, and he’d swear his grandmother was holding back a laugh. It would serve her right if he did choke. He managed to swallow his food, and grabbed his wineglass, needing to soothe his throat so he could talk.
Because no way was Carter’s Crossing going to be wedding central. Not if he had anything to do with it.
“Wedding traffic would drive business mostly in the summertime. This is a beautiful four-season location, and we want to take advantage of it. We don’t want Carter’s Crossing to be a center for weddings.”
Nelson’s shoulders relaxed. He finally agreed with the woman about something. They didn’t want Carter’s Crossing to be a center for weddings, especially the kind of weddings that would be connected to people coming from elsewhere. Those wouldn’t be the small local weddings the town was used to. The usual, ordinary, happy events. The ones couples planned for themselves, with help from friends and family.
He didn’t mind those.
It was the big-production, showstopper weddings that he was opposed to. The ones that required a wedding planner, like Sherry Anstruthers. He’d had personal experience with those, and it had been a nightmare. His nightmare.
He didn’t want that for his town, or the people who lived here.
But Mariah didn’t finish the sentence the way Nelson would have.
“No, we want Carter’s Crossing to be the Center for Romance.” She said it that way, like romance had a capital R on it. Like Romance was also a big production.
Like it needed a planner.
No way.
Before Nelson could interrupt, his grandmother was asking, “What do you mean?” Nelson had a bad idea he knew what she meant.
Mariah wasn’t looking at him anymore. She was focused in on Abigail. “I want Carter’s Crossing to be the place people go for romantic getaways. For anniversaries. The place they come to propose, to get married, to fall in love. We find the romance in every season. Lemonade and boat rides in summer, cider and leaf season in fall, snuggling around the fireplace in winter, drinking hot chocolate...”
Nelson was distracted for a moment, trying to decide what beverage she was serving in spring.
“Oh, that’s incredible,” Abigail said. “I like that. You’re right—if we do this well, it’s business for the town year-round.”
“And,” Mariah added, “we can get started before you have the mill ready.”
Nelson finally found his voice. “The mill?”
His grandmother gave him a big smile. A beautiful, elegant, phony smile. She knew. She knew exactly how much he was going to hate this.
“Yes, I’m converting the mill to an event venue.”
An event venue? When did his grandmother start talking about things like event venues?
“We’ll have a kitchen for catering, and space for indoor and outdoor events.”
“Events?” he asked, his voice high and tight.
“Yes, like weddings.”
Just kill him now.