NOAH WHISTLED AS he entered the Bent Nickel.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d whistled or felt like singing. There was just something about Ella that awoke Noah. When they were together, he didn’t dwell on his physical deficit or his lost practice. He was too busy staying mentally on his toes. And if Ella had qualms about whatever was percolating between them, she was less intent upon it when their conversations started rolling. And when they kissed…
Noah stopped whistling as the door closed behind him.
There wasn’t a schoolkid in sight, not even Ivy’s.
Ivy, Mackenzie, Roy and Mitch sat at the counter on stools turned to face Noah, arms crossed, frowns out in full force.
“Well?” Mitch asked, although it sounded more like a demand. “We saw Ella head out on snowshoes.”
“Toward the old buildings,” Ivy added.
“With you,” Mackenzie pointed out.
Roy shook his head. “I shouldn’ta left her with ’em.”
“Why do I get the feeling I might be swimming with the frozen fishes in the Salmon River soon?” Noah crossed the room and filled a mug with coffee, not bothering to shed any of his snow gear since he might be heading back out depending upon what the local tribunal said next.
The foursome exchanged glances.
“Here’s the thing.” Lately, Noah’s patience didn’t extend much beyond Ella, Penny and Woof. “I agreed to keep an eye on Ella. I agreed to tell you what her intentions are, but all that ends if you don’t confess what’s going on here.”
Ivy smiled sugar-to-fly sweetly, the way she did at the schoolkids when she wanted them to behave without having to deliver a reprimand. “Harlan wanted his grandchildren to love Second Chance.”
Mitch sighed. “He thought their talent and business experience would revitalize the town.”
“Harlan also thought buying us out and offering low leases would encourage current residents to stay and invest in their businesses.” Mackenzie rolled her eyes.
“I bought a deluxe heating unit for the inn,” Mitch said defensively.
Mackenzie placed a hand over her heart. “And I bought a new car lift for the garage.”
“I bought me a new drill,” Roy said with complete sincerity, as if this accounted for a significant amount of change.
They all turned to Ivy, who was swiveling on her stool.
“Did you put your money in savings?” Noah prompted.
Mackenzie snorted.
“No.” Ivy narrowed her gaze at the town mechanic and store owner.
“She took her family to Disney World,” Mackenzie said, heavy on the sarcasm, light on the sympathy.
Ivy jerked in her seat. “Which is an investment in itself. My oldest learned firsthand about other cultures at Epcot. He tried sushi. It’s not like we have sushi here.”
“Oh, please.” Mackenzie wasn’t cutting Ivy any slack.
“Ladies, please.” Mitch held up his hands and then turned to Noah. “Most of us used the rest to supplement our income. So if the Monroes decide to sell the town, parceling it out to the wealthy for luxury ranchettes, we’ll have to buy our places back at a premium.”
“That was a risk you took when you signed your deals.” Noah grimaced and set down his coffee, untouched. “You had to know it wouldn’t last.”
“Maybe,” Mitch allowed. “But the same goes with your retainer. You had to know it wasn’t going to extend forever.”
In fact, his contract expired in six months.
Noah sat down, picked up his coffee and took a sip, needing to consider all of this. He hadn’t thought ahead to contract renewal, mostly because he avoided thinking about the future. Ever. “So, what you really want me to do is find out what the Monroes have in mind for the town and then if you disagree, use my influence with Ella—” what little there was “—to change her mind.”
“Exactly!” Roy got up and slapped Noah on the back.
Everyone looked relieved.
Everyone, he supposed, but Noah.
* * *
THE MONROES WERE hanging out in Sophie’s room.
Laurel was lying on one twin bed, complaining of food poisoning. Sophie was supervising a game of Candyland with the kids on the other bed. Shane stood vigil at the window, working on his frown lines.
And Ella?
She sat on the timber footboard and tried hard not to smile, not to glow, not to dream that she and Noah had a future together.
It’s just a winter fling. Those kisses mean nothing.
But she felt like laughing, shouting out Grandpa Harlan’s favorite saying—Are you ready, Hezzie?—and bursting into song.
Since she was a responsible single mom, her song would be something G-rated like “The Wheels on the Bus.”
“You and the doctor went out again, I see.” Shane pointed out the window toward the church and schoolhouse.
Had he been able to see them kiss?
Ella blushed. “Apparently, there’s a safety rule—no snowshoeing alone in the high country.” What a big fib.
Shane’s expression indicated he wasn’t in the mood to buy fibs today.
“Let it go, Shane.” Sophie helped Penny roll the dice. “What did you find, Ella?”
“The two of you—” Ella pointed to Laurel and Sophie “—are going to want to poke around some of those buildings.”
“They left things?” Laurel perked up.
“What kind of things?” Sophie leaned forward so quickly she nearly upended the game board and lost her glasses.
“An old cash register. A pair of well-used dress forms. Tons of knickknacks. Boxes and barrels of stuff.”
“And in your estimation, what are the buildings worth?” Shane cut to the bottom line.
“Honestly?” Ella’s enthusiasm waned. “In this sleepy town, not much. The bones are good because Grandpa Harlan paid for maintenance, but everything’s outdated. What’s the draw to move here or to open a business? There is no clear positive, no sales nugget to say this is where you need to buy and why you need to pay top dollar.” Ella paused.
She sounded like… Like the old Ella. Pre-Bryce. Self-sufficient. Self-assured. Savvy.
“I thought so, too.” Shane’s expression toward Ella softened. “There are shops in the newer buildings, but Mackenzie said their owners go south for winter and from what I can tell, it doesn’t feel as if anyone’s running a booming business when there’s no snow on the ground in spring and summer, either. There aren’t any developed ski slopes for winter commerce, no luxury spa to get away to. In short, there’s no reason to come to Second Chance any time of year.”
“Other than for the fabulous view.” Ella sighed, thinking of Noah’s smiling face against the snowy Sawtooth mountain range.
“And the decent sledding.” Sophie grinned at Ella and adjusted her glasses.
“And the artisan quilter,” Laurel added.
The three women looked to Shane, but he had nothing to add.
“To each his own,” Ella murmured. And then she straightened, staring at Shane. “To each his own. Duh.” She thunked her head. “When real-estate developers create new communities, they always create space for businesses they feel people will need or enjoy. From their perspective, you come for a fabulous dinner, a unique shop or quirky theater and you see the great living options nearby, which make you want to move in.”
Laurel groaned and cradled her stomach. “I wouldn’t recommend the food at the Bent Nickel.”
“But Cam’s coming.” Sophie waved aside Laurel’s complaint. “He’s a terrific chef.”
“I like the way you guys are thinking, but you’re thinking small.” Shane paced. “I’ve been researching the nearby towns that are destinations—Hailey, Sun Valley, Challis. They don’t just have fine dining and interesting shops. They have special events, outdoor activities and—”
“No ski slope,” Sophie reminded him.
Shane stopped long enough to frown at his twin. “But there’s a lake around the bend that freezes over every winter. Visitors could ice-skate or learn how to curl.”
“Curling?” Ella touched her hair. “The sport?”
“Yes, not a hair-salon curl.” Shane’s dark eyebrows lowered in disapproval. “Although I suppose that’s important, too.”
“Order up one nice warm shopping mall,” Laurel said.
Shane chose to ignore her. “Ella’s been snowshoeing. There’s a huge meadow across the river where people can cross-country ski. This could be—”
“A playground for the middle-aged,” Laurel interrupted. “Snowshoeing. Cross-country skiing. That’s all tame stuff. What other ideas do you have? Stuff that might appeal to a younger crowd.”
“Fairs, concerts, a celebration of spring thaw. There are plenty of festivals of various kinds we could host.” Shane frowned at Laurel. “Second Chance used to host a winter festival featuring an ice-sculpture competition.”
“How eighties,” Laurel murmured.
“But we could up that.” Not appreciating his cousin’s sarcasm, Shane’s frown deepened into a scowl. “Take a new twist on an old theme. Like instead of ice sculpture, we get entrants to build ice and snow castles. There are towns who put on kite festivals with these huge kites that look like fish and dragons and cartoon characters, and rival the balloons in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade. I have contacts in entertainment. We could do whatever we want.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of mudders, Spartans and iron-man competitions to attract people who wouldn’t care their hotel room lacked amenities,” Laurel admitted. “But those sound interesting, too, I suppose.”
Ella raised her hand. “Just one question. Are you doing all this to help everyone in town earn a better living so you can increase their leases? Or are you going to do all this because you want to increase the value of the property to sell? Which will take years.”
Shane leaned against the windowsill. “We’ve owned this property for less than three weeks. I’m one vote of twelve. We have to keep our options open, but we have to protect our investment, too. All I’m asking is we begin to think beyond the next snowfall.”
“Wouldn’t those ideas mean we’d have to stay here?” Ella asked.
Shane nodded. “Someone would.”
Only Ella met his gaze.