Hometown Cinderella: Hometown Cinderella\The Inn at Hope Springs (26 page)

Chapter Four

A
dam was finishing the fireplace when Emma showed up again. He’d found several others stones that needed repair and noticed a half dozen tiles on the large hearth with cracked grout. No one had asked him to repair those, but he couldn’t leave a job half-done. Emma had purchased the mortar. The least he could do was get her money’s worth out of it.

He remained on his knees by the hearth as he waited for her assessment of his work. She stepped up to run her hand along the repaired tiles. It was then he noticed bits of straw clinging to the back of her skirt and her dark socks.

Frowning, she gestured toward the top of the fireplace. “The repairs don’t match the rest.”

“The mortar is still damp. When it dries it will be hard to tell the old from the new. Hand me that rag and I’ll finish evening out these grout lines.”

Picking up a red cloth in a small basin behind her, she held it out. “This one?”

“Jah.”
He gestured toward her skirt. “You have some straw stuck on you.”

To his surprise, her cheeks turned bright red. She brushed at it quickly. “I was seeing to our horse.”

Like many Amish who no longer found employment on the farm, she still maintained a small stable and a buggy horse to carry her and her mother to church meetings and other gatherings. He had seen their neat white house and little stable on the street behind the inn. Why was she embarrassed about a little straw on her skirt? Taking the rag from her, he began to wipe the tiles free of the excess mortar.

“You missed a spot.”

He leaned back and looked over his work. “Where?”

Taking up a second rag, she knelt beside him and began wiping at a spot he had already done. Finishing, she leaned back to study her work, then began wiping again. As she concentrated, her tongue peeked out from between her lips. How kissable she looked.

He pulled his gaze away from her face as his neck grew hot. Why on earth was he thinking about kissing her? That kind of loose thinking belonged to his past. She was a respectable Amish woman. Maybe his father was right and he couldn’t give up his English ways after so many years.

Nee,
I refuse to accept that.

Returning to his Amish family was the best decision he’d ever made. It wouldn’t be easy, but it was what he believed God wanted him to do.

He concentrated on his work. When Emma followed behind him going over the same places he did, he finally stopped and sat back on his heels. “You don’t get a discount for helping me.”

She gave her spot a final swipe. “Perhaps I should.”

“If the work isn’t to your satisfaction, you may say so.” He held his breath. He really needed this job. He was determined to prove to his father that he could live Amish again. Earning a living was a first step.

“The work looks good enough,” she admitted slowly.

His hopes rose. “I can start with the shutters now, if you like.”

“Come back in the morning. And be careful taking that ladder out of here.”

“I will. I don’t want to break any of Grandma Yoder’s delicious jams,” he teased.

Folding her rag, she casually began wiping the tiles again. “You like Grandma Yoder’s products?”

“They’re the best. Especially the gooseberry jam.”

A tiny smile flashed across her face. It disappeared quickly, but not so quickly that he missed it. He had been right. It made her plain face almost pretty.

Chapter Five

T
he following morning, Adam was waiting in the lobby when Emma came in to start her day. She glanced at the tall grandfather clock in the corner. It was three minutes until six.

Adam shot to his feet, a bright grin on his face. “
Guder mariye,
Emma. Have you a list of jobs for me?”

Her mother was right. He did have a nice smile. And he was eager to get to work. She liked that. She tipped her head toward him. “Good morning to you, too. Yes, I have a list of things that need doing.”

Behind the front desk, Mr. Parker leaned his elbows on the polished oak countertop. “Make sure he gets the ice off those gutters before they tear loose.”

“It’s on my list, Henry,” she replied.

To her surprise, some of the color left Adam’s face.“I won’t be able to do that for you,” he said.

Henry blew out a huff of exasperation. “Too bad, because they’re calling for more snow this weekend. Are those the breakfast rolls, Emma?”

Henry came around the counter to take the basket of muffins and rolls Emma carried. Their four guests would be down soon for their continental-style breakfast. When Henry lifted the heavy towel to peek inside, the aroma of the hot cinnamon rolls filled the air.

She glanced at Adam. His eyes brightened. “Those smell
wunderbaar.
Makes me wish I was a guest here.”

How could she resist such a blatant appeal? “Help yourself, Mr. Troyer.”

“
Danki,
but call me Adam.” He selected one. When he bit into it, his eyes closed and he made a small sound of satisfaction that did her heart good. He liked her baked goods.

She might be a plain old maid but she could cook. The prideful thought brought her back to earth with a thud. Every gift was God-given and not of her making. Humility was one of the cornerstones of her faith. Pride was a sin.

Heading to the sideboard in the dining room, she began setting out plates, cups and juice glasses. With everything arranged to her satisfaction, she spun around and almost collided with Adam. She couldn’t back up with the sideboard behind her. Those crazy butterflies took flight again in her midsection.

After licking the last bit of icing from his finger, he said, “Are you the
goot
cook or is it your mother?”

“I’m sure my mother is the better cook, but I made the rolls this morning.”

“It would be hard to make a better cinnamon roll than that.” Reaching out, he brushed at her temple. Shocked, she pulled back and saw he held a long piece of straw between his fingers.

He smiled softly. Her heart faltered. “Wouldn’t want the guests to think you’ve been rolling in the hay.”

“Danki.”
She sidled past him and hurried toward her office. Inside, she shut the door and leaned against it as she worked to calm her racing pulse. “How am I going to work with that man around?”

Chapter Six

W
hat was it about Adam Troyer? Why did he have such an unsettling effect on her nerves? He was a simple handyman. He wasn’t even that handsome.

Okay, he was, she admitted, but she’d never been susceptible to such shallow things before.

It wasn’t even that he looked like William. Will had been only a few inches taller than she was. He hadn’t towered over her making her feel small. His white-blond hair had looked like a sleek halo in the sunlight, not like the curly mess that topped Adam’s head. Where Adam was always smiling, Will had been serious and earnest. As she always tried to be.

No, she was not attracted to Adam Troyer. There was nothing about him that reminded her of William. Perhaps that was the problem.

A knock on the door made her jump. This would never do. She had to regain control. Marshaling a frown, she yanked open the door. “What is it?”

Adam stood with his thumbs hooked casually in his suspenders. His bright blue eyes sparkled with humor. “The list?”

“What list?” Her traitorous heart jumped into her throat, making her sound breathless.

Chuckling, he said, “The list of things I am to fix.”

“Oh, of course.” Feeling the fool, she pulled the paper from her pocket and handed it over.

He read it and nodded. “I’ll give you an estimate once I’ve looked at the projects. If we can agree on a price, I’ll do the work for you.”

“Fine.” Anything to put some distance between them. As soon as he turned away, she closed the door, determined to concentrate on her own work.

She had less than half an hour to compose herself before Adam reappeared with an estimate. By keeping the wide front-desk counter between them, she was able to remain composed as they settled on a price. Hopefully it wouldn’t take long for him to complete the repairs. Then she’d never have to deal with him again.

Adam went to work fixing the loose railing and broken spindles on the narrow staircase that led to the second-floor landing and the guest rooms. Emma had to pass close beside him several times during the day. Each time, she prayed he wouldn’t speak because she didn’t trust her voice. He didn’t. He merely nodded and flashed her a grin that sent her pulse skipping like a schoolgirl’s.

Late in the afternoon, she rounded a corner to find him working on a lamp fixture for a pair of her guests. It wasn’t on her list. Her mother and Henry stood beside them. They were all laughing at something Adam had said.

The oddest sensation of being left out settled over her. Normally, she avoided social situations. Staying in the background, making sure everything ran smoothly, that was what she did well. She didn’t belong in the group laughing at her handyman’s jokes, so why did she wish to be included?

Hearing the clock chime downstairs, she put away her stack of clean linens and quickly made her way to the back door. She slipped into her coat and hurried outside into the cold where four tiny lives were depending on her.

Chapter Seven

O
ver the next two days, Adam worked on the various projects Emma had given him. He repaired three leaky faucets and a toilet in the guest rooms, mended the dining room pocket doors, tacked down the loose runner on the stairs and replaced a broken windowpane in the pantry. Twice Emma’s mother came to him and added a few more tasks to the list. He didn’t mind. He needed the money. Besides, he found that he enjoyed watching Emma at work.

Quiet, efficient, always in charge of whatever situation arose, the woman was an excellent innkeeper and an outstanding cook if he could judge by the scones, shoofly pie and breakfast rolls she brought in fresh each morning. Her shoofly pie was the best he’d ever tasted.

At the moment, he was supposed to be fixing a loose shelf on the jam display, but in truth, he was admiring the way Emma was handling an upset customer. Suddenly, her mother stopped beside him. “She is a treasure, my Emma.”

He agreed. “She seems to know the business.”

“If only there was more business. The inn hasn’t been full in weeks.”

“Surely the summer months are when you have the most visitors?”

“
Jah,
that is true, but sometimes, without a steady income, it is hard for Emma to make the mortgage payments in the winter.”

What was she angling for? He braced himself and said, “I can wait for my pay if that would help.”

“Bless you, Adam, that won’t be necessary, but it was a generous thought. Are you going to the Yoder auction on Monday?”

“I’ve been thinking about it.”

“The Yoder family needs to raise money for their son’s medical bills.”

“I heard that. I did want to check out some of the tools they’re selling.”

“I don’t want to impose, but could you drive Emma there? Our horse is old and doesn’t like the snowy roads and neither do I. I want to send one of my new quilts for them to sell.”

Adam glanced toward Emma. A social outing would be fun. Perhaps he’d even see her smile. “I would be pleased to drive her. I will be at your house bright and early Monday.”

“
Danki,
Adam.” Naomi grinned happily, then walked away.

After the upset guest checked out, Adam finished his task and took a jar of gooseberry jam from the display. He laid it on the counter in front of Emma. “That fellow wasn’t very nice, was he?”

“A slight misunderstanding, that’s all.” She rang up his purchase.

Impressed that she hadn’t taken the chance to complain, he thought more highly of her for her restraint.

“You are spending all your pay on jam. At this rate we will be out by the end of the month,” she said.

“When a man finds the best, he won’t settle for less.”

Placing the jar in a paper bag, she handed it to him. Her eyes sparkled as if he’d done something amusing. Suddenly, he couldn’t wait for Monday to roll around.

Chapter Eight

T
he front door of the inn opened and two young English women entered. Adam was forced to step aside as they approached the counter to speak to Emma. One of the women gave him the once-over and a sly smile. Not so long ago he would have angled for a date with her, but not now. That kind of life was behind him. He had come back to the faith, as was God’s will.

Walking back to the shelves, he picked up his tools. If he wanted to date someone he’d look for a good solid Amish woman. Someone like Emma.

The thought brought him up short. When had he started thinking of her as a woman he’d like to go out with? Would she even consider it? The more he thought about it the more he liked the idea.

He looked toward her, but she was nowhere in sight. Her mother was checking in the women. Naomi chatted happily with the
Englischers,
answering their questions with ease.

That was one thing about Emma that troubled Adam. She never seemed to visit or joke with her guests or the other staff. In a business that had people around her all the time, she seemed to hold herself apart.

She seemed lonely.

And where did she go when she rushed out every two or three hours during the day? It was none of his business, but he couldn’t help being curious.

Late in the afternoon, he was clearing the snow from the back steps of the inn and studying the second-story guttering along the roof. The icicles hanging from the gutters were several feet long. It was a sure sign that the downspout was frozen shut. Someone needed to do more than knock them down. He’d need to go up a ladder and rake what snow he could reach off the roof. Then he would have to put socks full of ice melt in the gutters. If the downspouts weren’t opened, the meltwater could back up under the shingles and damage the walls inside.

The problem was, he couldn’t do it. Climbing a ladder inside the building hadn’t bothered him, but outside was a different story. No, he couldn’t go up there. Not yet.

Turning away, he saw Emma come through the garden gate at the back of the property. He leaned on the shovel handle and waited for her to approach. Once again, she had hay sticking to her coat.

His curiosity got the better of him. He arched one eyebrow. “What have you been up to, Miss Emma?”