to me that the two of you will manage to mess it up
for a second time, if you're left to your own devices," she said with more
than a touch of impatience. "And I'd like to see my granddaughter
happy."
"What is it you think we're going to mess up?" Trace asked, though he
knew she wasn't talking about their new and mostly awkward business
relationship.
She merely rolled her eyes, as if she found the question ridiculous, the answer
obvious. "Go," she ordered.
Trace left, stripping off his shirt as he went. Nell carried in a tray filled
with the remains of their aborted lunch and set it on the counter, then took
the shirt from him and tossed it into the dryer.
"Shall we have a cup of tea while we wait?" she asked, not waiting
for his reply as she put cups on the table and started pouring.
Trace was smart enough not to object to the ritual. He'd learned years ago that
Abby's grandmother marched to her own drummer and it was best to go along.
Those who didn't want to do that at least had the good sense to stay out of her
way.
"That should warm you up," she said, as if it weren't nearly eighty
degrees outside and even warmer in the kitchen, despite the overhead fan
circulating the air. When she'd stirred a tiny bit of sugar into her own tea,
she leveled a look at him. "What do you want from Abby?"
"I want her to keep the renovations at the inn moving along on schedule
and to keep her sister on budget," he said without hesitation.
"Nonsense," she said. "That's your excuse. What you want is
another chance with her. At least be honest with yourself about that
much."
Trace frowned at her assessment. He didn't want Abby back. He wanted to
retaliate for the way she'd treated him, wanted to make her suffer the way he'd
suffered, wanted to turn her life inside out, the way his had been when she'd
walked off without a word of explanation.
"You're wrong," he said flatly. She had to be. Otherwise, it would
mean he was a glutton for punishment.
"Am I?" she responded. "Then this is about revenge for something
that happened ten years ago? You certainly do know how to hold a grudge, don't you?"
He didn't like hearing the truth, not from a woman who'd always been kind to
him, if not entirely approving of his relationship with Abby. "I wouldn't
put it exactly that way."
"Then how would you put it?" she inquired, her tone mild. "You
say it's not about wanting her and it's not about revenge. I say it has nothing
to do with securing the bank's loan on the inn. What does that leave?"
Trace wanted to squirm exactly the way he had years ago when she'd asked him
what his intentions were toward her granddaughter. He'd been honest then. He'd
admitted he wanted to marry Abby. He simply hadn't been willing to set a
timetable for it. He'd seen the disappointment in her eyes, but he hadn't been
willing to commit to something that life-altering, not when his goals for
himself kept shifting as he tried to find solid footing for fighting his father
and going after his own career.
To Nell O'Brien's credit she hadn't kicked him out or banished him from Abby's
life. She'd left the two of them to figure things out on their own, but he'd
sensed her displeasure every single time they'd crossed paths after that. He'd
always wondered if that unspoken disapproval from the woman she respected most
in the world had anything to do with Abby's abrupt departure.
"You used to have an answer for everything right on the tip of your
tongue," she said to him when he remained silent.
"I've learned that answers aren't always simple and that the first ones
that come to mind may not be the right ones," he told her.
"You're not being tested. There's not a right or wrong answer, just the
truth."
He gave her a wry look. "Maybe that's why I'm having so much trouble with
it. I'm not sure I know the truth."
She nodded, looking surprisingly satisfied. "Now we're getting somewhere.
It takes a certain amount of maturity to realize that things aren't always
black and white. Want
for a second time, if you're left to your own devices," she said with more
than a touch of impatience. "And I'd like to see my granddaughter
happy."
"What is it you think we're going to mess up?" Trace asked, though he
knew she wasn't talking about their new and mostly awkward business
relationship.
She merely rolled her eyes, as if she found the question ridiculous, the answer
obvious. "Go," she ordered.
Trace left, stripping off his shirt as he went. Nell carried in a tray filled
with the remains of their aborted lunch and set it on the counter, then took
the shirt from him and tossed it into the dryer.
"Shall we have a cup of tea while we wait?" she asked, not waiting
for his reply as she put cups on the table and started pouring.
Trace was smart enough not to object to the ritual. He'd learned years ago that
Abby's grandmother marched to her own drummer and it was best to go along.
Those who didn't want to do that at least had the good sense to stay out of her
way.
"That should warm you up," she said, as if it weren't nearly eighty
degrees outside and even warmer in the kitchen, despite the overhead fan
circulating the air. When she'd stirred a tiny bit of sugar into her own tea,
she leveled a look at him. "What do you want from Abby?"
"I want her to keep the renovations at the inn moving along on schedule
and to keep her sister on budget," he said without hesitation.
"Nonsense," she said. "That's your excuse. What you want is
another chance with her. At least be honest with yourself about that
much."
Trace frowned at her assessment. He didn't want Abby back. He wanted to
retaliate for the way she'd treated him, wanted to make her suffer the way he'd
suffered, wanted to turn her life inside out, the way his had been when she'd
walked off without a word of explanation.
"You're wrong," he said flatly. She had to be. Otherwise, it would
mean he was a glutton for punishment.
"Am I?" she responded. "Then this is about revenge for something
that happened ten years ago? You certainly do know how to hold a grudge, don't you?"
He didn't like hearing the truth, not from a woman who'd always been kind to
him, if not entirely approving of his relationship with Abby. "I wouldn't
put it exactly that way."
"Then how would you put it?" she inquired, her tone mild. "You
say it's not about wanting her and it's not about revenge. I say it has nothing
to do with securing the bank's loan on the inn. What does that leave?"
Trace wanted to squirm exactly the way he had years ago when she'd asked him
what his intentions were toward her granddaughter. He'd been honest then. He'd
admitted he wanted to marry Abby. He simply hadn't been willing to set a
timetable for it. He'd seen the disappointment in her eyes, but he hadn't been
willing to commit to something that life-altering, not when his goals for
himself kept shifting as he tried to find solid footing for fighting his father
and going after his own career.
To Nell O'Brien's credit she hadn't kicked him out or banished him from Abby's
life. She'd left the two of them to figure things out on their own, but he'd
sensed her displeasure every single time they'd crossed paths after that. He'd
always wondered if that unspoken disapproval from the woman she respected most
in the world had anything to do with Abby's abrupt departure.
"You used to have an answer for everything right on the tip of your
tongue," she said to him when he remained silent.
"I've learned that answers aren't always simple and that the first ones
that come to mind may not be the right ones," he told her.
"You're not being tested. There's not a right or wrong answer, just the
truth."
He gave her a wry look. "Maybe that's why I'm having so much trouble with
it. I'm not sure I know the truth."
She nodded, looking surprisingly satisfied. "Now we're getting somewhere.
It takes a certain amount of maturity to realize that things aren't always
black and white. Want
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