ON MONDAY AFTERNOON, Nathan headed into town to run some errands.
He dropped off a copy of the skaters’ contract with Rob, and then showed him the progress he’d been able to make with the inn’s weekly expenses. To Nathan’s surprise, Rob was optimistic about the skaters. But Nathan sensed that the results from next week’s expense report would tell the tale. Between now and then, Nell needed a big push on publicity to raise the inn’s bookings—and therefore revenues—for the Christmas season, or else they were all in trouble.
The rattletrap car that Nathan drove back to Prescott Inn belched smoke as he pulled into the parking lot, making him think longingly of his Jeep. Emilie had that, of course.
Put her out of your mind, he told himself. Continue with the plan.
He pulled into a space by the valet parking stand and waited for Frank.
Frank rushed over, poking his head inside the rattletrap’s open window.
“Oh! It’s you, Mr. Prescott!” Frank looked confused. “Where is your Jeep?”
“The skaters are using it this month, Frank.”
“Okay.” The other man nodded. He eyed Nathan’s ride. “That’s a sweet twenty-year-old Monte Carlo you’re driving, isn’t it, sir?”
Sweet? The battered sedan had once belonged to his late father. “Yes,” Nathan answered curtly, and then handed Frank the keys.
The only reason Nathan hadn’t sold the car two years earlier was that Nell had been using it. When she’d bought her own car last month—a used Honda—he’d tried to sell the Monte Carlo, but maybe because it needed extensive body work, he hadn’t found a buyer yet. “Please park this for me, Frank.”
“In your regular spot in the front?”
“No.” Though the car was inspected by the State and deemed road worthy, it didn’t exactly give the appearance of “country luxury” he hoped to convey. “Put it far in the back, where customers can’t see it.”
“Right, Mr. Prescott.” Frank nodded solemnly.
Nathan got out of the car and stretched. He couldn’t help asking, “Are the skaters practicing up at the ice rink?”
“No, sir.”
Nathan’s neck tightened. He hoped that Emilie and her troupe weren’t hanging around the lobby. Or worse, congregated in a loud group, laughing at a table in the restaurant.
“Nell is with them today,” Frank added. Then he stepped inside the car, shut the door and backed out the Monte Carlo.
Thoughtful, Nathan strode toward the curb. The Christmas lights over the entranceway twinkled brightly.
He frowned. It was still daylight. He’d thought he’d asked Guy to keep the lights off during the daytime. The electrical costs added up...
But before Nathan could head inside to find Guy, an SUV zoomed in front of him, cutting him off and making it impossible to take another step.
Irritated, he brushed his sleeve and glanced up. It was his own Jeep that had nearly run him over.
He walked over to the driver’s side, censorious words on his lips for Emilie.
But it was Nell who was driving. His niece opened the door and hopped out. “Hi, Uncle Nathan,” she chirped.
On tiptoe, she peered over him and called to Frank, who had stopped the Monte Carlo to see what she wanted.
“Frank! Could you please help me bring the props inside? They’re in the back! This is a last-minute thing, and we’re really rushed!”
“Sure thing, Ms. Lewis!” Frank shouted back. Abruptly, he parked the Monte Carlo and left it in the front loading lane beside the hotel. He hopped from the car and then rushed over to where Nathan and Nell stood beside Nathan’s Jeep.
“Thank you, Frank,” Nell said, breathless. Her cheeks were pink. Nathan noticed that she’d put on red lipstick and smoky eye makeup that made her look like she was going someplace special.
“What’s going on?” Nathan asked.
“Like I said, it’s a last-minute initiative, otherwise I would’ve explained everything to you.”
“I know I said you should take the initiative, but—”
“Don’t worry, Uncle, it’s not costing you a penny.” With a mischievous twinkle, Nell went over to the rear of the Jeep and pulled out a bag from the back, and then tucked it under her arm and hurried after Frank, who was teetering under the awkward load of a yard-size plastic snowman.
What the...?
Before Nathan could decide what to think, a shiny black town car pulled into the unloading lane beside Nathan’s abandoned Monte Carlo. From the driver’s side of the sleek conveyance stepped Paul, the town’s limo driver and a friend of Nathan’s since high school.
Paul tipped his cap to Nathan. He wore a black livery suit and his best professional demeanor. Paul often taxied travelers both to and from the regional airport in Manchester and the international airport hours away in Boston. There was also an Amtrak station in the state capital that he sometimes served.
“Got two guests for you today, Nathan.” With a flourish, Paul opened the passenger door and held forth his arm to assist a woman out of the car. “This is Vera. She has a reservation at the inn.”
Vera looked to be in her early eighties. Her hair was gathered in a distinguished silver bun, and she moved slowly with the aid of a cane. As she got out, she stood to her full height, sniffed the air and smiled at the gentleman who alighted onto the lane beside her.
Paul hastened to the trunk of the town car to remove two large suitcases and then set them on the walkway beside the brass cart Frank used to bellhop.
Except, Frank was inside the inn somewhere, helping Nell. Nathan cleared his throat. He wasn’t too big to do any task required of him at the inn. It was just that he was a little rusty. He hoped he did a good job...
Paul ducked inside the car again and came out holding a plastic pet carrier, which he placed on the curb.
“Fluffy!” Vera exclaimed. She smiled up at Nathan. “Young man, will you assist me with my cat, please.”
“Ah, certainly.” Nathan silently blessed the decision they’d made to set aside a number of rooms as “pet rooms.” It seemed this strategy was paying off. None of their major competitors allowed pets.
“Will you be checking in today?” he asked the couple, as Paul got back inside his black town car and zoomed out of the parking lot.
“Yes. We are booked for three nights,” Vera told Nathan. “We’re looking forward to a quiet stay in the country.”
Nathan nodded as he stacked their luggage onto Frank’s brass cart. Neither Vera nor her husband made a move to pick up Fluffy, so Nathan gingerly picked up the cat in its plastic crate.
Oof. Fluffy was heavier than he looked.
Vera inched her way forward up the ramp with short steps while her husband courteously held her elbow.
“Will the sleigh ride be operational this week?” Vera asked Nathan, as Nathan put down Fluffy’s crate and tried to figure out how best to get the feline guest inside safely. He didn’t fit on the cart, not with the couple’s large pieces of luggage.
“Ah...we need snow for the sleigh ride to be operational. But once it snows, yes, there will be rides later in the season,” Nathan answered. He figured that Guy would drive the sleigh. The horses came from the farm next door, as they always had.
Vera and her husband had reached the double doors that led to the inn’s entrance. Frank still hadn’t returned to open them for the guests, so Nathan hefted up Fluffy’s crate and left the loaded baggage cart where it sat. He strode over and opened the lobby door for them.
Loud noise drifted from inside the building—music and singing. Festive chaos, led by the skaters.
Nathan’s heart sank. So much for Vera’s quiet week in the country, he thought.
He cleared his throat again, deciding to stall the couple outside for a few moments. Maybe Emilie and her troupe would finish up and go away if he waited. “So, yes, as I was saying,” he repeated to Vera, covering for his delay, “as soon as there is a snowfall, then we will have sleigh rides. You can be sure of that.”
“With jingle bells?” Vera asked.
Nathan had seen the old bells on the hook in the barn. They still had them. “Yes, jingle bells will be present.”
“And hot chocolate?”
He smiled broadly. “We have a fully staffed kitchen, with hot chocolate and marshmallows.”
“And a shuttle bus so we can shop in the craft shops in town?”
His smile died. No, no shuttle bus. Vera and her husband were customers, though, who would presumably be purchasing meals in the restaurant each day, adding to his revenue. Nathan pasted a smile on his face and nodded to Vera. “We’ll arrange something so you can shop locally, yes.” Maybe he would ask Nell to offer space in the lobby to artisans and organize a crafts fair on the weekend.
“Wonderful! We used to come up every year during this week in order to celebrate our wedding anniversary,” Vera confided in him. “But then the inn changed hands and the quality of service went down.”
“We stopped coming altogether,” the husband interjected.
“I assure you, the inn is under new management and our quality of service is excellent,” Nathan replied politely. “May I ask how you heard about us again?”
Marketing research was always good. He wished Nell was here. Was she inside with the skaters?
Whatever they were doing, they hadn’t stopped making a racket. Even standing outside the building, he clearly heard even louder music coming from the lobby. Then loud, enthusiastic clapping.
“Why, we saw the ad, of course,” the lady remarked.
Ad? Nathan hadn’t approved any expenditures for an ad. Newspaper ads could be quite expensive.
“Which ad was this?” he asked nervously.
“The great big billboard by the highway.” Vera rubbed her arms. “My, it’s getting cold. May we go inside, please?”
“Yes. Certainly.” Nathan would deal with the question of the billboard later.
Just then Frank came outside. Nathan had never been happier to see him. Being a bellhop was harder than it looked.
“Mr. Prescott! Let me assist you with that!”
“Oh, you’re a Prescott!” Vera exclaimed to Nathan.
“One and the same.” Nathan tucked Fluffy under his arm like a football and then waved the couple through the doors ahead of him.
The din of music was overpowering inside the lobby. Nathan cringed. Maybe the couple was hard of hearing. It appeared so, because neither of them seemed bothered by the commotion in the least.
But then they rounded the corner and the surreal scene by the fireplace couldn’t be denied. Vera stopped in her tracks and put her gloved hand to her lips. “My goodness!” she exclaimed. “What is this?”
Nathan had no choice but to stand by helplessly with them and watch the show in progress.
And what a show.
The ten cruise ship skaters were decked out in what Nathan remembered as their “shipboard” uniforms. Formfitting black pants on the women, the men in jeans. They all wore long-sleeved shirts with the skating logo on the front. Must be their Christmas outfits, Nathan thought, because the T-shirts had a red background with a sprig of holly worked into the logo design.
Though the troupe wore sneakers instead of their usual skates, they danced and twirled and jumped in a carefully coordinated routine. The snowman that Frank had carried in earlier was paraded between them as they danced around the tree. In the front, in a position of prominence, a petite skater was being lifted and twirled aloft by a big, muscular guy who looked to be her dance partner. A male freestyle skater stepped out and, with two powerful introductory steps, leaped into the air.
Yeah, it was a quadruple toe loop jump. Nathan had learned enough about skating from Emilie to know what that was. It was also a skill that not too many guys in the world possessed.
A flashing blur in the air, and then the man solidly landed on one foot.
Cheers broke out from a group of assembled children.
Nathan had no idea the skaters had such an audience. But there they were. A whole crowd of kids, more than lived in the inn. Nathan supposed they were local schoolchildren.
Jason waved at Nathan, so he waved back. Jason’s gray tabby cat was perched in his lap. Nathan didn’t have the heart to do anything about that. Jason looked like he needed a friend, and if Prescott made him happy, then Nathan wouldn’t evict the little fur ball.
Five other young kids were squeezed beside Jason on the same couch—two boys and three girls. These kids definitely lived in Nathan’s inn, though they seemed to be a few years older than Nathan’s little friend.
And then Emilie walked past, doling out candy canes to the children in her audience, which they all too eagerly accepted from her.
His heart lurched in his chest. Emilie had always been good with children. Back on the ship, the performers had danced in a parade down “Main Street.” Before Christmas, they’d happily passed out candy canes.
Nathan swallowed the lump in his throat. Those had been good times.
Don’t think about those days. Don’t think about Emilie. Tend to your customers.
He turned back to the couple he’d helped inside. Luckily, they were smiling while they watched the skaters, who were now exiting the “stage,” taking their bows.
“It’s not usually as noisy as this.” Nathan apologized to Vera and her husband in a low murmur. “I’ll have a talk with the skaters and make sure it settles down for the rest of your stay.”
“Oh, that’s quite all right.” To her husband, she said, “Jaspar, these are the cruise ship skaters we saw on TV last week. Remember, they were looking for a place to stay? I think it’s nice they’ve found a place to perform.” She turned to Nathan. “We’re very impressed. It’s why we followed the ad on the billboard.”
“Look, darling, we’re on TV, too,” Jaspar remarked, pointing behind Nathan.
His head swimming, Nathan followed Jaspar’s gaze and spotted a camera crew. Nathan hadn’t even noticed them. A man with a professional-looking camera on a tripod was crouched beside the Christmas tree, filming a female newscaster Nathan vaguely recognized from a regional television station. The newscaster stood before Emilie and Nell and was holding a microphone out to them. An interview.
Nathan groaned. “I apologize for the cameras,” he murmured to Vera. How was this possibly the quiet week in the country she’d signed on for?
The newscaster signaled to her cameraman for a break. She was a stately woman who wore a modern wool suit and expensive gold jewelry. She looked like she had money—frankly, the kind of clientele Nathan hoped to attract to his inn, to spend lots of cash to help him move his business out of the red and into the black.
Nell zipped over to Nathan, glowing. He didn’t have the heart to reprimand her. He couldn’t be “Uncle Scrooge” to her when she seemed so pleased with herself.
“Uncle, the woman from the news wants to interview you next. Let’s go get you ready.” Without waiting for an answer, Nell straightened his tie and used her fingers to comb his hair.
He stepped back from Nell’s “fixing.” He had no intention of being part of their news story.
“We’ll talk in my office later.” For now, though, he eyed Vera and her husband. Frank had led them to the registration desk to check in. As Nathan observed them, Vera suddenly stopped and bent over, opening up the cat carrier that Frank carried, and retrieving Fluffy from his confinement.
Oh, no! Prescott was seated only twenty feet away, in Jason’s lap. Nathan could just imagine the catastrophe if the pampered prince and scrappy Tom got into it in the lobby.
In an attempt to prevent a potential cat fight, Nathan dashed toward the pet carrier, ready to intercept Fluffy if need be.
But Vera scooped Fluffy into her arms, cooing at him, where the persnickety white Persian contentedly sat and blinked slowly at Nathan with his smug blue eyes. Fluffy seemed to prefer to ignore that there was another male cat anywhere near him.
As Vera noticed Nathan, who was perspiring heavily, she smiled sweetly at him. “I enjoyed the show, Mr. Prescott. It reminded me of days gone past at Prescott Inn. The early days, before you were born.”
Nell had wandered over, too, just to add to Nathan’s discomfort.
“You were here in the old days?” Nell asked Vera, while Nathan winced for what might come out of this little exchange.
“Oh, yes,” Vera answered Nell. “Jaspar and I came every year at this time for years, while it was still named Prescott Inn. That’s where we celebrated our wedding anniversary. But when the inn was sold, the quality went downhill, so we stopped our yearly visits. As I was telling this nice young man, we took a chance when we saw the advertisement for the skaters. We watched them on TV. They were so brave for helping all those passengers disembark from the sinking cruise ship.”
The wheels seemed to be moving behind Nell’s eyes. “Well, the official debut of their Christmas show is coming up soon. Will you return for it?” she asked Vera. “Please.”
“Why, yes, that would be lovely! I hope that means the ice rink is open this year. We came for the sleigh rides, too, of course.”
Nell gave Nathan a pointed, triumphant look. Then she asked Vera, “Did you ever skate on the rink, in the old days?”
“Of course we did,” Vera said. “In fact, Jaspar asked me to marry him on your little gated skating pond on the mountainside. I would so dearly love to see it again.”
Nell smiled more broadly. Nathan could guess where this conversation was heading. And he couldn’t disapprove. He stood by, shocked, watching his niece in action.
“I can certainly arrange that for you,” Nell was telling Vera. “My name is Nell Lewis, by the way. I’m the great-granddaughter of the original owner.”
“Oh, you’re Phil Prescott’s great-granddaughter?” Vera clasped her hands to her lips. “Jaspar, did you hear that?”
“Phil Prescott became a dear friend of ours. He was our youngest daughter’s godfather.” Jaspar nodded, his eyes clouding over as if remembering happy times.
“Such a great honor you gave him.” Nell touched Jaspar’s arm. “Sadly, I never met my great-grandfather. He passed before I was born. And I grew up on the West Coast, so I don’t have memories of the inn as it was in the past. But I do feel a kinship with those days now that I work here.”
And while Nathan stood, mouth agape at Nell, his niece gently led Vera over to the newscaster.
Nathan followed from a safe distance. The last thing he wanted was to be roped into an unscripted television interview. The reporter would no doubt dig into his reasons for reopening the resort, which would only lead to painful parts of his past that he did not want to revisit.
An interview with Vera and Jaspar, on the other hand, was good publicity for them. Nell was a genius.
He listened as Nell convinced the newscaster—Janet, Nell called her—to interview Vera and Jaspar.
Janet nodded enthusiastically. Nell jumped up and down, not hiding her youthful enthusiasm.
He felt a moment of pride for his niece. Yes, he would discuss the cost of the billboard with her later, but for now, he would let her enjoy her victory. She seemed to be hitting her stride.
Where he hadn’t connected with a guest personally, Nell had. Where he had avoided an opportunity to promote their inn because of his own reluctance to talk about the past, she had righted his error and was making the best of it.
He glanced once again at the skaters, disciplined performers that they were, circulating and speaking with other guests who’d gathered in the lobby. They handed out flyers for their upcoming shows. Despite the ordeal of the ship sinking, there they were, enthusiastically forging ahead.
“Uncle?” Nell waved at him from across the room and then came skipping over. “Isn’t this exciting?” she whispered in his ear.
Nathan watched as the camera turned on and Janet began conducting her interview with the Christmas tree as a backdrop. Vera and Jaspar were evidently reenacting the details of Jaspar’s proposal of marriage, because the gentleman had bent to one creaky knee and was lifting his hands, palms up, in a beseeching gesture.
Beside him, Nell sighed. “It is so romantic. And do you see how successful our efforts have been? I want you to note that it’s all free. It cost us nothing to bring in the news team.”
“What about the billboard?” He couldn’t help asking.
“Oh, the ice-skaters’ production company funded that.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Emilie O’Shea arranged it.” Nell grinned. “I like her, Uncle. I can’t tell you how much she’s been helping me every day.”
Yes, he could see Emilie’s influence in his niece’s positivity and unflagging cheer. He’d always been attracted to Emilie’s knack for lifting people’s spirits.
But she was also helping get business for his inn. This he appreciated even more.
“What are you thinking, Uncle?”
“That you did a good job, and I’m proud of you.”
“You are? I’m glad you said that.”
He supposed he should say it more often. He just wasn’t naturally as expressive as Emilie.
“When will the newscast run?” he asked, changing the subject. “I assume they’re going to take the footage back to the studio to edit the segment?”
“Yes. The producer—” Nell gestured to a young woman holding a clipboard in the corner and talking on her phone “—is guiding the cameraman to take lots of action shots here at the inn. Then they’re going to piece together a general interest update on the plight of the shipwrecked skaters, who are heroes because they rescued so many others. We’re part of their story now, so that will be positive publicity for us all.”
“You did well, Nell,” he repeated.
“It was Emilie’s work, too. We did it together.”
He nodded. He ached to ask further what Emilie had been doing, but he didn’t want to divulge his interest.
“Janet told us they’re going to run the story tomorrow night,” Nell remarked. “Sometime during the dinner hour. Then, over the next several days, they’ll run it again at different points. She’s excited about the attention this will bring locally. Did you know that Emilie might be able to get the segment picked up by one of the evening news shows? She made connections with them when they interviewed her after the cruise ship sank. That would be a coup for us, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes.” Emilie was amazing. There was no doubt about that.
“It’s exactly the audience we need. Wealthy people with money to spend, who want an authentic winter-lodge Christmas experience.”
He nodded at her. “I’m sorry I ever doubted you.”
Nell beamed. “The candy canes were free, too. The village craft fair gave them to me in exchange for a plug on the show. The snowmen we’re displaying are part of the deal.”
“That’s great, Nell. I’m leaving the promotion in your capable hands. And now, I’m heading upstairs to do some—”
“Wait!” Nell clutched his arm, effectively halting his escape. “I have another idea! We should do a screening in the downstairs lounge on the big TV tomorrow night. Can’t you just see it? I’ll have Claude whip up some snacks, and we’ll let the locals know via a poster in the coffee shop in town. We can have the skaters come, and then we can...”
“Sure,” he said absently, his mind drifting off. Nell wasn’t even taking a breath in between her sentences, she was so excited by her plans. But his attention had wandered to Emilie.
She was sitting beside Jason now. She’d scooped her hair behind her ears and had bent over to look at what the boy was doing. Maybe admiring a drawing he’d made, or helping him with his homework.
“Emilie’s interview made me cry,” Nell was saying.
Nathan jerked up his head and stared at his niece. “I thought Janet interviewed you together. Did Emilie give a separate interview?”
“She sure did. She talked about landing on her feet and how our inn saved the skaters. Janet asked her lots of questions about their odyssey, and Emilie talked about the special show they’re going to design for us. Uncle, I think you should go over there and thank her for saving our butts.”
They weren’t saved yet.
“Uncle, do it.” Nell gave him a little push.
“Did...she say anything about me?”
Nell looked at him blankly. “Why should she?”
“Right. Never mind.” Part of him was relieved that Emilie hadn’t let on to anyone about her past relationship with him. If she had, Nell would have said so.
Still, his pride took a bit of a hit.
He hadn’t meant to be harsh with Emilie earlier. Just as he hadn’t meant to be harsh with Nell. It was just his way sometimes. He was no good with words; he preferred his actions to tell people how much they meant to him.
“So, will you thank her, Uncle?” Nell nudged him. “Come on, I’ll walk over with you.”
“No, I’m fine.” It was best that he keep away from her. That hadn’t changed.
“I think you should say something to her,” Nell continued, not letting up. “Compliment her like you complimented me. And just so you know, we filmed some great skating footage at the ice rink today. I had to work like a maniac shuttling everyone up and back, taking turns ferrying people and ice skates and cameras inside your Jeep. It needs an oil change, by the way. The red light is on in the dash.”
He groaned. “Right.” One more item to add to his to-do list. But more disturbing than realizing that Nell seemed to be taking Emilie’s side on all things Prescott Inn was the news of their small rink being shown on film. He hadn’t expected that.
Even he knew the facility looked old and run-down.
Seeming to read his mind, Nell said, “Just wait until you see the way Emilie transformed our rink in the woods. That’s all that I’m saying.” Nell gave him an enigmatic smile.
“What do you mean by transformed?”
But Nell had already glided away.
There was no avoiding it now. He’d have to talk to Emilie.