Chapter One
“Two months? You needto be gone for two months? Really, Aunt Ophelia?” This wasn’t happening to her. It couldn’t be. No way! She had barely started this job; she didn’t dare take that much time off work, but how could she ignore her aunt’s request?
Amaryllis North, Rill to her friends, rubbed her forehead with the fingers of her right hand and silently willed her aunt to say she was kidding. She listened a moment longer.
“Yes. I’ll come. I’ll be there. For you. For Sleigh Bells Inn.” She’d probably get fired; she was still in probation on her new job. But family was important, and the inn was her heritage.
Located a few miles outside the quaint small town of Snowy Hollow, the inn had been in their family for six generations. It had burned to the ground twice, once in 1893 and again in 1962, but that was long before her father had inherited it. After each fire, it had been rebuilt bigger and better. When her father took over, he had added ten cabins to the main lodge’s twelve rooms. The cabins were scattered through the trees on the five hundred square acre property which had been a cattle ranch until some enterprising ancestor decided that ranching was too much work.
Aunt Ophelia rattled on in Rill’s ear about guests, how her handyman would be there to help out, and about her friend Fern who was headed for cancer treatments and needed Rill’s aunt’s assistance.
“I promise. I’ll catch the next plane out of here.”And lose her job in the process. She had no qualms about helping her aunt, but losing her job was going to hurt.
It had taken years, but finally, after leaving Snowy Hollow for Saskatoon, she’d landed a great job that paid well. She loved working as an assistant to the owner of the up-and-coming Splitz Clothing. After only three months on the job, her boss, a no-nonsense go-getter, would probably fire Rill for taking unscheduled time off. Rill hadn’t worried about the company’s six-month probation policy before now. Asking to take two months off over Christmas and New Year’s would not go over well.
“I’ll just let my boss and my roommates know I’m away for a while. It’ll be fine.” She’d have career and housing issues to deal with once Auntie O got back, but family was important and Aunt Ophelia was the only family she had left.
Cancelling the inn’s reservations without notice would do irreparable damage to the inn’s reputation. The only solution was to go home. While she wasn’t enamored with returning to small town life, she didn’t want to lose the inn either. It was her history, her heritage, and someday maybe even her future. She just hadn’t planned to take over the inn for another decade or so. Her aunt rattled on in the background, interrupting Rill’s thoughts.
“Katmandu? What?” She pulled the phone from her ear and stared at it. “Why?” She hated the way her voice squeaked at the end of the single word question. When her aunt said she was going with her best friend Fern to her cancer treatments, Rill thought she meant a city hospital, not halfway around the world.
Another five minutes of monologuing ensued. Something about Zen, gurus, yoga, and revolutionary treatments. She was barely paying attention as she used her laptop to search for a deal on flights to Calgary. After that, she’d rent an SUV and drive the remaining two hours to Rocky Mountain House and then another three quarters of an hour to Snowy Hollow and the inn just north of town.
“Okay, I’m booked. It wasn’t easy. This close to the holidays the flights were full. I fly out the day after tomorrow. I should reach the inn by early afternoon. I’m taking a super early flight so I don’t have to drive at night.” She hated night driving ever since her parents had died after hitting a moose on the highway late one night. Rill and her aunt had been in the car and survived the accident. She understood that losing your parents at fifteen wasn’t world ending, just world shaking, but the memories lingered. She shuddered.Nope, no night driving in winter. E-ver!She tuned her attention back to her aunt’s voice.
“I have to give up my apartment because I’ll be gone for two months. I can’t afford to keep it if I’m not working. We’re roommates and friends, but it’s not fair to ask them to carry my share of the rent. They’re better off renting my room to someone else. I won’t have trouble finding another one,” she answered her aunt’s question, wincing at the lie.Room, ha. That was a laugh. She literally rented a large closet.With her new job, she’d been hoping to move to better accommodations, but when she found her current suite, it was all she could afford. It was small, but it wasn’t a dive; the condo was actually very nice, just crowded.
Luckily, she only owned a few boxes of books, three suitcases of clothing, and a huge tote of yarn and half-finished knitting projects. She’d courier it all home. Expensive, but no way was she parting with her first editions. Shipping would be less than renting storage for an indeterminate amount of time. Auntie O said two months, but who knew how long a boondoggle to Katmandu would take?
She paused in her tracks. It felt like her life was changing irrevocably, swirling out of control. Even so, Rill looked forward to returning to the inn. It would be nice to have a room of her own for a while. Instead of living in a storage room in a three-bedroom apartment shared with six other girls. She was twenty-eight and way too old to be living like a poverty-stricken university student or starving artist. She had managed to save a bit of money, but had never gotten around to moving into a place of her own and away from the crowd.
Going home for a few months could be fun. She’d still be working long hours, but she’d have space of her own. She’d have room to breathe. And if she felt like taking an unscheduled coffee break, she wouldn’t be risking her career.
“Auntie O, I will not take payment for working at the family inn. It’s my inn too. Apartments are easy to find in Saskatoon, I’ll get another one.” It was a good thing this conversation was over the phone and not in person. Her aunt would see her lies from five hundred yards.
She flipped her phone onto speaker and hauled a suitcase from under her bed. Her aunt’s cheery voice filled the room making Rill homesick. “We’ll argue over it when I get home. I’ll tell Owen to expect you,” her aunt said.
“Who’s Owen?”
“Owen Rose. My maintenance man. He went to school a couple grades above you. I’m sure you remember him.”
“Wasn’t Owen Rose a juvenile delinquent?”Okay, that was a bit of an exaggeration, but he’d always been in trouble. And too good looking for his own good, with those crazy, mesmerizing blue eyes and wavy long hair. He’d dated every girl in Snowy Hollow. Every girl except Rill. He wouldn’t give her the time of day. Not that her parents or aunt would have let her date him.
“Owen was a misunderstood teen from a broken home,” her aunt chided. “He’s a responsible adult now and my handyman. You’ll treat him with the respect he deserves.” Her voice held that blend of exasperation, kindness, and no-nonsense every parent seemed to perfect. Rill could almost picture her scowl.
“Yes, Auntie O.”
“Don’t Auntie O me, missy.” She chuckled. “Owen will mind the inn until you arrive. Fern and I are leaving at first light.”
“First light? Can’t you wait a couple days until I get there?” How could her aunt leave the inn in Owen’s hands? Could she trust him?
“Amaryllis, sweetie, cancer waits for no one. This could be Fern’s last chance. The doctors have given up on conventional medicine and have tried everything. Only divine intervention can help now. Katmandu is going to be Fern’s Christmas miracle. See you when we get back. Take care of the inn. Be nice to Owen. I’ve left you some notes and recipes. We offer a full breakfast now. Bye, sweetie. Love you the most.”
The room was deathly silent. Her aunt had hung up.
“Crap on a sandwich.” She glanced at her watch. It was only seven a.m. She could pack her stuff in minutes and head for the airport and trade her ticket in for standby. Maybe she could get to Snowy Hollow before her aunt left. Thank goodness she didn’t have a car to deal with at this end. Twenty-four hours to get home wasn’t much time, but it was doable; if she hurried.
The ticking of the kitchen wall clock urged her to hurry. It seemed to mock her.Late. Late. Late. She slammed her stuff together, stacked up the boxes she’d never gotten around to unpacking, and scratched a note for Tish who owned the condo they all shared. She left a check for a month’s rent then called and arranged for shipping of her few possessions. Tish ran the yoga studio on the ground floor of their building and would be around for the shipping company. Rill hated to leave without proper notice, but she had to get home.
