Chapter Nineteen
Zane yawned and stretched as he wandered into the kitchen the next morning. The dimly lit room was heavy with the scent of cranberry. It was barely six and Clara was already hard at work, even though they’d stayed up until after one chatting with Wren and Noah. He was exhausted, so Clara had to feel even worse. She got up before him almost every morning. How was she even still functioning?
He greeted her, wishing he could embrace her. She looked so lovely standing in front of the stove, a mug cradled between her hands. He could easily get used to seeing her every morning. For the rest of his life. It was already his favorite part of the day. “You’re up early.”
“No more than usual. Up at five gives me time to prep for the day. It’s already six. Muffins are ready and croissants are about to come out of the oven. After I have coffee, I’ll start breakfast.”
“And you aren’t dead dog tired? I know how difficult it is to follow a late night with an early morning. Investigations take long hours for days at a stretch. But that’s only short term. You have this responsibility for the duration.” He nodded when she gestured toward him with her coffee. She set her mug down to pour him some.
“Well, this isn’t an investigation and it’s only one late night, not a string of them. Besides, I’m much younger than you.” She winked as she handed over his mug.
He cleared his throat as if challenging her statement. “You’re not much younger than I am. I’m only twenty-eight.” Ouch. He knew better than to ask a woman her age.
“I’m thirty-one,” she crowed. “I’m older than you and this day isn’t going to kick my butt. Can you say the same?”
Her laugh trickled over him like warm honey. Her eyes sparkled with mirth. She had to be pulling his leg. She couldn’t be older than him. She barely looked twenty. Of course, she’d said she had a successful music career before coming to the inn. “This day is not going to kick my butt. In fact, I challenge you. Today is Saturday. What’s on your agenda? Today’s the first day of the holiday market in the community center. It runs every weekend from now until Christmas.”
“Yes, I know. I do live here,” she said dryly. “I have nothing on except the usual innkeeper stuff. What are you hinting at?”
“Want to spend the day wandering around the market, maybe do some Christmas shopping? I need a gift for my assistant at work, and something for the baby she’s due to have. I’m hoping to find something unique.” And he’d love to spend more time with Clara and her beautiful, invigorating smile.
“I need gifts for my cousins, and my aunt and uncle, of course. Later, I want to string the garland around the common room. I keep getting distracted and forgetting to do it. I’ve unearthed the ladder and sorted the boxes of greenery. Tomorrow, I’m doing the rest of the outside eave lights. My cousin Ken is coming to help.”
“So, is that a yes, or no?” he asked when she ground to a halt. “I’m thinking it’s yes?” He raised one eyebrow in question and sipped his coffee. It had a hint of hazelnut and chocolate. Dang, she made the best coffee. The stuff she brewed fresh was ten times better than the coffee of the pods. Must be the fresh ground beans. He needed her heavenly brew at work to keep him fueled up.
Work. He’d be going back in the new year and unless he kicked it into high gear, he wouldn’t be finished the rough draft of his novel. He was halfway through, but he’d stalled because the characters weren’t doing what he asked them to do. He really shouldn’t be taking the time to go to the Christmas market. He should probably order some gifts and pay to have them wrapped and then delivered to the office; but he wanted to spend more time with Clara. Wanting to be with a woman was unusual for him. He wasn’t much for dating beyond a few standby girlfriends, all three of whom were as casual and noncommittal as he was. They didn’t even sleep together; they just acted as each other’s plus one for events.
He shrugged it off. “Need help with breakfast?” Spending time with Clara would be fine. They both knew he wasn’t here for the long haul. He had a job to get back to, and she sure wasn’t going to walk away from Sweet Dreams.
“I’m good. Shouldn’t you be working on your book?” She poured herself more coffee. “I mean if you’re taking the day off to play hooky with me, you probably need to write first. Don’t you have a deadline?”
“I hope to complete the rough draft before I leave here, but I don’t have a formal deadline. It is why I decided to take a sabbatical away from home. I’ve been researching the creative process. There are many techniques, but I’ve read that being out of your routine can stir creativity. I’ve spent most of every day of the past two weeks holed up in my room writing. I’ve tried switching to working at the library without any success. I’m hoping a day off will jumpstart my brain.”
She tilted her head to the right and studied him. A slight furrow formed between her brows and her index finger tapped on the outside of her mug. “Okay. I’ll go with you. Just to stir up whatever is sleeping in your enormous brain. I’ll have to get my cleaning girls set up before I leave.”
He knew she’d hired two high school girls to clean on weekends. Clara was busier now than when he’d first arrived. Zane assumed she recognized the need to take time off now and then. She was also big on giving back to the community. She’d already donated cookies and brownies to two bake sales since he arrived. She probably felt like she was supporting Coyote Creek by hiring a couple teenagers as well as the yardwork company who was now keeping her walkways clear of snow. He missed seeing her pleased smile when he surprised her by shoveling.
“I’ll be back for breakfast and later, we’ll take off about ten, if that works for you?”
“That’s perfect. Do you want a carafe of coffee to take upstairs?” She was already reaching for one.
“No. I think I’ll be good after I refill my mug. I’ll have more at breakfast.” Clara did enough work without having to fret over extra dishes, and Zane was certain the carafes she used weren’t dishwasher friendly, as they were old school insulated plastic with glass interiors.
Back in his room, coffee in hand, he stared at his laptop screen. He’d reviewed yesterday’s work and made some minor edits, but new words were being elusive. He’d written himself into a corner and had no idea how to get out of it. This was the third time he’d done that. It was starting to feel like a pattern. What he needed was a critique partner. Someone to bounce ideas off.
* * *
“I’m so excited for this.”Clara clapped her hands like an excited child and grinned at Zane over the hood of his truck. “I’ve never been to a holiday craft market where I actually knew some of the vendors. Aunt Sue is here selling baking. Tricia is selling knit scarves and hats. Hurry, let’s get inside.” They stepped into the community center. A teenage boy sat behind a table in a short hallway. The happy tune of Frosty the Snowman was barely audible through the closed doors at the end of the hall past the coat check window. Zane had his wallet out and had paid the small entry fee before she realized what he was doing.
“Hey, I have money. I could have paid.” She grabbed his sleeve and pulled him to a stop before they reached the coat check.
“I’m sure you could have. But I invited you. I’ll pay. I’m paying for the coat check too, so don’t even think about objecting.”
“Neanderthal.”
He grinned. Clearly the insult didn’t bother him in the least. “Will you buy my gifts too? I mean, you invited me.” She laughed at his shocked expression. Sometimes, he was easy to tease.
“Nope. You’re on your own for gifts. If you’re lucky, I might buy you a cocoa or lunch. But only if you are well-behaved.”
