Six Months in Montana (Montana Sweet Western Romance Series, Book 1) (9 page)

T
heir first guests
were due to arrive any time after 2pm. Molly, her mother and aunt arrived at Rose Cottage at about 11am. They made sure that all the rooms were ready, pillows fluffed, shades opened to make sure the natural light streamed in and the perfect jazz CD selected for soft background music in the lobby. They only had two rooms booked for tonight, but both parties were staying through the weekend and Molly was actually glad that they weren't full. Having just a few rooms let was ideal, as it would give them a chance to work the kinks out and make sure everything went smoothly.

That morning and for the past week, Molly had had the inn's main number forwarded to her cell phone, so that callers would be sure to reach a live person. As of tomorrow, she'd be at the inn early to greet the guests for breakfast, and she had an answering service lined up for after hours. If there was any kind of emergency at the inn, the service would call her and she'd be able to run right over if need be.

Surprisingly, they'd had quite a few calls in the week before the inn was officially opened, with people wanting to reserve rooms or just ask questions about rates and availability. The website and PR releases she had sent to the local papers, as well as her mother and aunt telling everyone they knew, had all done a great job in getting the word out. Her mom and Betty had insisted on helping Molly out at the inn, by baking and filling in as needed. Today they'd be staying the entire time, to keep her company and see how everything was supposed to go. Though the beginning of next week was slow, they were already almost completely booked from the following Wednesday through the weekend, and Molly was hopeful that they weren’t just getting curiosity visitors, but rather this was a sign that they were meeting a real need and things would only get better.

After a quick vacuum of the main hallways and lobby that wasn't really necessary, but that made everyone feel better, they sat down to have lunch in the kitchen. Molly's mother had brought Maine lobster rolls and potato salad, as a special treat to celebrate and bring them luck on opening day. While they were eating, Molly filled them in on Isabella's plans, and Aunt Betty didn't hesitate to voice her opinion on the matter.

"Who does she think she is? That's the most absurd thing I've ever heard." Molly reminded her that supposedly it wasn't Isabella's idea.

"Phil Thompson should know better. I think he's going a bit daffy. Do you know he told me the other day? That he wants to put smiley faces on his truck too? Said he likes the attention he gets."

"Phil's sharp as a tack, and you know it," Molly's mother said, as she helped herself to more potato salad.

"Well, now I know what people were buzzing about this morning at the Muffin. We were there having our coffee, and Isabella was making the rounds a bit more than usual. I didn't think anything of it at the time, figured they were talking about her outfit. I don't think I've ever seen that girl in the same thing twice. She had new shoes on too. Don't know how she manages to walk in those things; the heels must have been at least four inches."

"Molly doesn't have anything to worry about," her mother said matter-of-factly, and Molly smiled back at her. Nothing ever really ruffled her mom, and it was one of the things she admired most about her.

"Thanks. I'm not worried, more like a little irritated. If she chooses to, Isabella could be a nuisance once she opens and starts steering people her way."

"That's true," Aunt Betty agreed. "She's certainly not shy."

"Honey, all you can really focus on is doing a great job here, so people start to spread the word. Remember, you know how to do this and you do it really well." Her mother gave her arm a pat, and then stood up to start clearing the plates.

Once the dishes were taken care of, Molly mixed up a batch of chocolate chip cookie dough and popped a tray of walnut sized balls in the oven at a little past 1:30 pm. That way, the welcoming smell of baking would greet their guests as they arrived and the cookies would still be warm. Aunt Betty mixed up a pitcher of fresh lemonade and, once that was ready, they set it on a long side table in the lobby. When the cookies were done, Molly set a platter full of them by the lemonade, and also put a guest book out so people could sign in and leave comments when they checked out.

Precisely at 2, the front door opened and an older couple in their sixties came in. Molly guessed that they were the Browns. They had told her on the phone when they’d made their reservation that they were coming to Beauville to visit their relatives at a family reunion. After they checked in and Molly gave them their room key, she encouraged them to help themselves to the cookies and lemonade.

"There are menus of our local restaurants over there as well, and please join us for pre-dinner cocktail hour. We'll have several different wines and cheeses available."

"That sounds wonderful, dear," Mrs. Brown said. "We will definitely see you back down here then. We're meeting the relatives for dinner, and a glass of wine before we go sounds perfect."

Within minutes of the Browns departing the lobby, the front door opened again and their other party arrived. The Fergusons were a much younger couple, closer to thirty, Molly guessed. While Joe Ferguson gave Molly his credit card to check in, his wife Emily dived onto the chocolate chip cookies, inhaling one and then bringing a plate with several more back to her husband.

"These are amazing," she said to Molly. "Thank you so much! You have no idea how hungry I am. We've been driving for hours."

"We're in town for the weekend to look at houses," Joe explained.

"He just got a great new job here," Emily said proudly.

"I'm supposed to start in a month, so we need to move fast. Our realtor says she has a great lineup for us to look at, so hopefully everything will work out."

"Who's your realtor?" Molly couldn't help asking.

"Isabella Graham, do you know her?" Of course it was Isabella. Why did she even ask?

"She's very good at what she does. I'm sure she'll take excellent care of you." Molly said, and then invited them to stop by later for wine and cheese.

"This is so great!" Emily said, as she started on her third cookie. "We will see you soon." Molly handed them their key and they headed to their room.

Now that their guests were all set, Molly's mother and aunt got busy in the kitchen, making a caramelized onion and wild mushroom quiche and a walnut coffee cake. Once baked, and then cooled, they put the quiche in the refrigerator so that Molly would be able to quickly heat it up the next day. She was also planning to cut some fresh fruit when she arrived in the morning, and put out a few cold cereals and bagels, so there would be a nice assortment of options.

At about 4:20, Molly set out several bottles of wine, a nice red blend, and a smooth Pinot Grigio that she set in a pretty ice bucket to keep it chilled. For cheeses, she went with a smooth cheddar and a fluffy, mild goat’s cheese, along with some crisp rosemary and olive oil crackers. She had decided to make 4:30 the official starting time for cocktail hour, figuring that if her guests were heading out somewhere for dinner they would have plenty of time to get there, especially if their preference was to eat early.

So, she wasn't surprised when, at 4:30 on the dot, the Browns walked into the lobby, followed soon after by the Fergusons. She directed everyone to help themselves. Once they were all set, Molly poured half-glasses of wine for her mother, aunt and herself, and they chatted with their guests for a while, before Molly excused herself to take a call. A few minutes later her mother and Aunt joined her in the kitchen, put their glasses in the dishwasher, and then said their good-byes. Once they left, Molly settled on one of the padded stools at the island, pulled out her laptop and was thrilled to discover that another online reservation had come in, for Monday, so now they wouldn't be completely vacant on any day next week.

She checked on everyone a little later and the lobby was empty. They'd evidently all left for dinner, so she put the cheese and crackers and wine away and then got ready to go home herself. She left a note at the front desk for her guests to call if they needed her, and then grabbed her purse and headed to her car to drive home.

But she didn't get very far. When she turned the key, her engine made an awful clicking sound. She tried a few more times to no avail, and then called Christian, who said he'd be right over. Though it was still light outside, the air was bone chillingly cold, so Molly scurried back inside to wait in the warmth.

She opened her laptop back up again to kill time while she waited for Christian to arrive, and although she'd checked the reservations calendar several times that day, she clicked on it again and checked her email once more. A query had come in, asking about availability for the following week, and Molly was typing up a reply as Christian walked in.

Molly smiled as she saw him, and said, "Thanks so much. Sorry to be a bother." Christian's hair was still a bit damp, and Molly knew he'd likely just taken his after-work shower. It was the first thing he usually did when he got home if he'd spent much time outside, which was often.

"Don't be silly, it's no bother. How did it go today?" Christian leaned against the kitchen island and glanced at the laptop. Molly had just hit send, which brought up the reservations screen.

"Are those the current reservations?" He asked.

"Yes, we've had quite a few calls and bookings already."

"No kidding? That's great." Christian leaned in for a closer look and, as he did, his arm brushed against Molly ever so slightly.

She glanced his way and was shocked to see his expression had changed: his face was completely drained of color and he looked like he needed to sit down. Molly pushed a stool towards him and he sat slowly looking like he was in a daze.

"What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost, as clichéd as that sounds." She'd never seen him look like this. "Are you feeling sick?"

Christian was quiet for a moment and looked like he was gathering his thoughts. "For a minute there, I thought I did see a ghost, sort of. That name, the Olander reservation, kind of threw me. It's not a common name, and I once knew an Olander."

Molly felt the hair stand up on her arms. She knew without him saying anything that his ex-girlfriend, the one that had run out on him right before their wedding, was an Olander. She hoped it was a coincidence. A moment later, Christian confirmed her hunch.

"Heather, the girl I almost married, her last name was Olander. I haven’t seen or even heard anything about her in years."

Impulsively, Molly put her hand on his arm and gave it a light squeeze. "Well, I don't know if this person is related, but it's definitely not her. The woman who booked it sounded like she was in her seventies, maybe. Her first name is Agnes, and she's coming with another woman named Helen."

"That's her aunt, and her aunt's best friend."

"Do you still think about her?" Molly asked, and immediately regretted it, thinking it was too personal and that he wouldn't want to go there. But he didn't seem to mind.

"No. I haven't in years. I'm long over it, but it was a pretty horrible time for me. It made me question everything." He looked at Molly and then explained, "It just threw me, seeing the name."

"Does she ever come back to Beauville? Have you run into her over the years?" Molly was curious, wondering if he ever really had gotten closure.

"No, I haven't seen her since then. Her family is still here, but the guy she married worked for a big four accounting firm and took a transfer to Australia shortly after their wedding. As far as I know, they are still living there."

Molly couldn't help but wonder how Christian would feel if he ever ran into his ex again? It had been a long time, but she had done some damage. Molly was glad to hear Heather was out of the country, so running into each other wasn't likely.

Christian stood up and started walking toward the door, "Let's go get your car jumped and head home."

Once he’d charged her car for a bit, the motor started easily, and Molly drove back to the ranch with Christian following her, just in case something went wrong.

"Have you eaten yet?" he asked, as they walked into the kitchen.

"Just nibbled on some cheese and crackers." Molly realized she was starting to get hungry.

“Mrs. O'Brien made a beef stew for us. She left instructions to turn it down to a low simmer, and I was doing that when you called.”

"That sounds wonderful." Molly got out two bowls, as Christian sliced several pieces of crusty bread for them from the loaf Mrs. O'Brien had also baked earlier.

"A little wine to go with?" He asked as he reached for a bottle of Merlot. When Molly nodded, he opened the bottle and poured them both a glass.

They chatted easily during dinner, catching up on how their respective days had gone. The stew was delicious, just the thing for the cold winter weather, and the Merlot was smooth and easy to drink. Molly was a little surprised to find her glass was empty when they finished eating. She wasn't planning to have a second glass, but Christian refilled his and when he asked if she wanted more, it suddenly seemed like a good idea. She could feel all the tension melting out of her body and realized she had been a bit on edge, more worried than she'd realized about the inn's opening day. It was such a relief that everything had gone so smoothly.

"Feel like a game of pool?" Christian asked, after they'd cleared the table and put the dirty bowls in the dishwasher.

"Why not?" It was still early and a Friday night, so it sounded like a good idea and something different. They hadn't played yet since she'd arrived at the ranch. Christian had a finished basement that was set up like a game room, with a tournament-sized pool table, dart board, big screen TV and a small bar.

"I will warn you though, I haven't played in years, and I never was very good."

"Pool is like riding a bike, it will come back to you." Christian said, as he grabbed the bottle of wine to bring along to the basement.