She knocked lightly, cracking the door open an inch. “Grandpa, it’s Ellie.”
“Everyone gone?” he asked, his voice gruff.
She walked into the room. “Yes. I wondered if you wanted me to heat you up some soup for dinner.”
“I’m good. I had enough sandwiches and scones to last me until next week.” He stood in front of the stone fireplace holding a framed photo of her grandmother. His hand trembled as he returned it to the mantel. “Mary would have enjoyed today. It was like it used to be.” He glanced at Ellie. “You did a good job. She would have been proud of you.”
“I had a lot of help.” Ellie walked to his side, taking his work-worn hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze as she looked at the family photos lining the mantel. “She’d be proud of you too.”
“I don’t know about that, Ellie my love. I let you down today. I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t let me down. Come sit. There’s something I need to talk to you about.” She led him to the chairs by the window with a view of the lake, noting the way he dragged his left leg.
“Your mother hasn’t given up, has she?” he said, lowering himself onto the chair.
“No, but I guess we shouldn’t have expected her to. She’s stubborn, just like you.” At the moment that was the kindest thing she could think to say about her mother.
He looked at the lake, the sun setting behind the mountains in the distance. “Your mother never liked the inn, you know. She was after us to sell it for as long as I can remember. It didn’t matter to her that it had been in the family for five generations or that your grandmother and I were happy here. We didn’t care that we didn’t make a lot of money, didn’t mind the work either. Miranda blamed me, me and the inn, for her mother’s heart attack. Probably thinks it’s the reason I had my stroke.”
Ellie wished she believed that. If concern that Joe was working himself into an early grave were her mother’s only motivation, Ellie would be able to understand and forgive her. But that was the thing about being psychic. Ellie knew exactly what was motivating her mother. She just didn’t understand why.
“Grandpa, I need to ask you something, and I don’t want you to get upset. It’s just a hypothetical question.”
“Nothing you could ask would upset me, Ellie my love. I know you only have my best interests at heart.”
“I don’t know about that. You weren’t happy when I was thirteen and asked you about the birds and the bees.”
He laughed, and she wished they could sit here and reminisce about the happy memories she had of visiting him and her grandma at the inn, but what she had to ask him was important. “Grandpa, if you didn’t have to go into a home or leave Highland Falls, would you want to sell the inn? Don’t answer me right away. I want you to think about it before you do. We’d get a place here. You’d live with me. Jonathan could live with us too if he wanted.”
Her grandfather sat there, still and quiet, while memories of his life at the inn played out like a movie in his head. A small smile lifted the corner of his mouth as the images of him fishing with his grandfather, swimming in the lake with his friends, and building the dock with his father ran through his mind.
His face softened, and his eyes grew shiny when he thought about Mary, his wife. Images of them as newlyweds and all the hopes and dreams they’d shared. Their love for each other and Mirror Lake played out before Ellie. Their long walks, picnics under the shade tree, gardening together, working side by side at the inn. Her grandfather’s memories included Ellie too. Their holidays together. Her grandma Mary calling out directions to Ellie and Joe as they put up the now-faded red floral wallpaper in the dining room.
Her grandfather cleared his throat. “I promised my father, just as he promised his father before me, that the inn would remain in our family, and it’s a promise I mean to keep. But even if I hadn’t, I’d fight until my dying day to hang on to this place. There’s something about this land, this lake, that once it has you in its hold, it won’t let go. It’s home, Ellie. Mine and yours.”
That was all she needed to hear. She stood up, leaning over to kiss his grizzled cheek. “All right, so we’ll fight, and we’ll keep fighting until we win, Grandpa.”
Chapter Five
Ellie’s bravado faded ten minutes after she left her grandfather’s room. She’d gotten carried away in the moment. Her grandfather’s memories had fired her up, reigniting her determination to protect him and the inn. But now, as she stood in the dining room watching the evening sky reflected on Mirror Lake, her mother’s threat as she’d left the inn threw cold water on that inner fire, and Ellie worried she wouldn’t be able to protect either her grandfather or the inn.
She’d practically been shaking in her shoes at the promise of retribution in her mother’s eyes and the contempt in Richard’s. They didn’t believe she had the spine to stand up to them. They certainly knew she didn’t have the money to fund the legal battle they’d vowed to wage.
“You have the truth on your side,” she told her watery image in the window. Surely that had to count for something. Except there were a few lies mixed in with the truth. Namely that the inn was a going concern.
The door to the inn opened, and she panicked, thinking her mother had returned, this time with lawyers and the law as she had promised.
“Anyone here? I’ve got an order for Ellie MacLeod,” a young male voice called out.
She berated herself for letting her imagination run wild and hurried to the reception area, forcing a smile. “Sorry. How much do I owe you?” She paid him, including a generous tip. Her winnings from the poker game came in handy.
“Wait a minute,” she said when he went to leave. “I just ordered a pizza.” There was a large takeaway bag sitting on top of the box.
“Nope, that’s included in your order,” he said, and left.
She peeked in the bag, the smells of dark chocolate, powdered sugar, and tart raspberries wafting up to greet her. It smelled so good she wanted to dive inside the bag but restrained herself, ignoring her grumbling stomach.
She picked up the box and bag and locked the front door before taking the red-carpeted staircase to Nate’s room. Jonathan had a key, and if someone wanted a room for the night—unlikely, but she could always hope—the buzzer was connected to her phone.
Standing outside the door at the far end of the dimly lit hall, she contemplated leaving the box and bag outside Nate’s room. But unlike her, he couldn’t read minds. He wouldn’t know that besides wanting to bring him a pizza, she craved a small dose of the feeling she got every time she stood close to him. Being near him was like drinking a cool glass of water on a hot summer’s day.
She lifted her hand and knocked. “Hi. I…,” she began when the door opened, the rest of the words getting stuck in her throat at the sight of Nate standing shirtless with a towel draped around his neck. So much for her hope his mere presence would calm her worries and fears. Her pulse was racing like she’d run up and down the stairs ten times.
“Hey. Whatcha got there?”
Unable to look away from all that bronzed muscle and the swirls of dark ink on his arms, she shoved the box and bag at him. “Pizza.”