A Valentine's Proposal--A Clean Romance Read online

  * * *

  THE BEDROOM WAS GORGEOUS. Not a surprise after meeting Abigail. Mariah decided to unpack later. She didn’t want to be late for dinner, and she was eager to talk to Abigail.

  She found Abigail on the porch, sweater now on to fight the cool of the autumn dusk.

  “Come, sit for a minute, Mariah. Did you find the room comfortable?”

  Mariah sat on a wicker chair with a plump cushion on its seat.

  “The room is beautiful. I’m sure I’ll be more than comfortable.”

  “Thank you, dear. Did you want to start talking shop tonight, or wait till tomorrow? I don’t want to press you, at least, not yet. Are you tired from the drive?”

  Mariah tamped down her own excitement. “Not at all. I’m ready anytime, but if you’d rather wait...”

  “I’m excited about it—oh, but that looks like Nelson coming now.”

  “Who exactly is Nelson?”

  “Nelson is my grandson. He’s the only family I have here in Carter’s now. He lives in the carriage house, and I insist he comes over for dinner regularly. I tell him it’s for his own good, but really, I’m happy to have the company.

  “He was called in to work earlier, but he just texted that he was on his way home.”

  Mariah saw a white van heading toward the house.

  “Is Nelson going to be involved in this project?” The information her grandfather had provided her about Abigail Carter had been sparse.

  Abigail allowed a small smile and shook her head. “Oh, no, this isn’t his kind of thing at all.”

  The white van turned in the drive. The lettering on the side read Carter’s Crossing Animal Hospital.

  Mariah’s excitement took a nosedive.

  “What does Nelson do?” But she knew the answer already.

  “He’s the town’s veterinarian. He was called in this afternoon to take care of Tiny, Mavis Grisham’s Great Dane.”

  Mariah swallowed a sigh. If she was a believer in signs, she’d be worried about now.

  * * *

  NELSON NOTICED THE car parked in front of his grandmother’s house as he drove around to the back. It looked familiar. Then he saw the plates.

  How had Miss I’m Not Lost ended up here? He’d like to see her explain that, but she’d probably get directions from his grandmother and be on her way before he arrived at the main house. That is, if she’d admit she was lost at all. Maybe she was stopping all over town trying to find her way again. She must be geographically challenged.

  Happy he wouldn’t have a second meeting with her, he pulled his van into the garage below his apartment in the former carriage house and took a moment to roll the kinks out of his neck. He didn’t have time to shower, since Grandmother was big on punctuality, but he had a few minutes to change. She wouldn’t let him come to dinner in scrubs. Once in his place, he threw what he was wearing in the laundry and pulled on a cashmere sweater she’d given him last Christmas and some dress pants. Grandmother would never allow jeans or sweats at her dinner table. A quick glance in the mirror assured him he’d pass muster, and he headed over to the house.

  He let himself in the back door and sniffed appreciatively at the aromas drifting his way. Coq au vin. His favorite. His grandmother loved the classic French dishes. It had been a few months since he’d enjoyed her coq au vin.

  His grandmother insisted he come to dinner a couple of times a week, and he was happy to oblige her. She said he needed to have a civilized meal occasionally. He knew she wanted company. He did, too.

  It wasn’t just that she was a good cook; he worried about her living here all alone. It was a big place, and he was the only family left in town. She had her staff who came in on weekdays, but evenings and weekends she was still alone.

  She’d been left a widow with four kids at a young age, and he admired how she’d handled her family and the family business on her own. He knew she was working on something new, but she hadn’t shared the details with him yet. She had a good mind for business, but he hoped her plan didn’t involve him. Especially not his personal life.

  There was a lot of grande dame about his grandmother.

  He heard voices coming from the living room and paused. Did she have a guest? She hadn’t mentioned it. Normally, it was just the two of them at dinner.

  Surely Grandmother hadn’t invited the rude stranger to stay. Better Mavis and Tiny.

  He made his way to the doorway and stopped in surprise.

  “Oh, Nelson. There you are. Nelson, this is Mariah Van Delton. Mariah, this is my grandson, Nelson Carter.”

  Abigail smiled at him as if she’d just given him a pleasant surprise.

  Mariah smiled, as well. It was patently fake. “Oh, we met earlier, though we didn’t exchange names.”

  Nelson had never worried about his grandmother being scammed before, but his Spidey senses were tingling now. Somehow, he knew this woman, with her I’m not lost and fake smile, was going to be trouble.

  He wouldn’t admit that part of that certainty was because she was also much too pretty for his own good.

  Abigail raised her eyebrows delicately. “Oh?”

  “I offered to give Ms. Van Delton directions.” Which, he could acknowledge to himself, might not have been necessary if she was heading to see his grandmother.

  But why was she?

  “I thought you said you’d found your way without any problems, Mariah?” Grandmother asked, frowning.

  Mariah sat a little straighter. Her eyes were flashing. “I did. I merely stopped to make some notes and your grandson assumed I was lost.”

  Nelson narrowed his own gaze. “Not many people stop in at my clinic on a Sunday afternoon to make notes.”

  Abigail was watching them with an amused smile. Very grande dame. Nelson quickly changed direction.

  “You didn’t tell me you were expecting a guest, Grandmother.”

  “No, I didn’t, did I? If we’re going to keep each other posted on every little thing, then let me tell you that Mariah is going to be staying here for a while, helping me with a project I have in mind. We’d just started discussing it.”

  Nelson felt the hair on the back of his neck lift. That look Grandmother had on her face meant trouble. And he already knew Ms. Van Delton was going to be a pain.

  Abigail rose to her feet. “Let me bring in dinner, and I can hear more about this new idea of yours, Mariah. It’s time we went public, so we can let Nelson in on it.”

  Mariah insisted on helping and followed Abigail out of the room.

  Nelson frowned. He shouldn’t be the one feeling left out here. It was his home, his town, and yet he was the last to know what was going on.

  Grandmother discussed things with him. At least, the major things. She’d had to shut the mill not long after he’d returned to Carter’s Crossing, and he knew how difficult a decision that had been for her.

  He couldn’t readily imagine Mariah as the savior for the town’s economic woes. She didn’t look old enough to be the CEO of any well-established business. It was undoubtedly prejudice on his part, mostly as a result of being told to get lost, but he wouldn’t trust any business she was touting. His grandmother had been the town leader for so long, she’d come to believe herself a benevolent despot. But sometimes her ideas were a little...unconventional.

  He made his way to the dining room, already set for dinner for three, and poured the wine she’d left out. Then he headed for the kitchen. He could help carry in the food.

  He didn’t make a lot of noise. He’d spent enough time in this house to avoid the squeaky boards by habit. Just before he reached the door, he heard them talking and paused.

  The phrase that eavesdroppers never heard any good about themselves wasn’t quite accurate. Eavesdroppers didn’t hear good, period.

  Mariah was speaking, responding to something his grandmot
her had said.

  “In that case, you could say that working for Sherry Anstruthers taught me everything I needed to know about wedding planning, and I’ve taken those lessons to heart.”

  After that, all Nelson heard was white noise. He made himself move back to the dining room just as quietly as he’d left, but he was on autopilot.

  Sherry Anstruthers was one person he despised, almost as much as he despised himself, or at least the man he’d been three years ago. He could not believe Grandmother had invited anyone connected to that woman to her home.

  Maybe she hadn’t known that Mariah Van Delton had a connection with Sherry. He sat back in his chair. Right. She hadn’t known. She couldn’t have. And now she’d send Miss I’m Not Lost packing.

  He found his fists clenched so tightly on the chair arms that his knuckles stood out, white against the oak. He relaxed them, with an effort, just as he heard footsteps in the hallway. He stood up when Grandmother and Mariah came back in, bearing hot dishes.

  Mariah was here. But not for long.

  * * *

  NELSON HAD JUST swallowed his first mouthful when the hammer hit.

  Mariah led off. “Abigail, I think you have a good idea, but you’re thinking too small.”

  No one had ever accused his grandmother of thinking too small. If Mariah was thinking bigger than anything his grandmother could come up with, it was going to be a nightmare. Even if Mariah wasn’t going to be staying here, she could do a lot of damage before she left.

  He glanced at his grandmother, but she wasn’t offended. Her eyes were sparkling as she waited, her fork resting on her plate.

  Why wasn’t she freezing out this interloper?

  “Carter’s Crossing would be a beautiful wedding destination, but I don’t think we should stop there.”

  The chicken went down the wrong way in Nelson’s throat, and he started choking. Mariah frowned at him, and he’d swear his grandmother was holding back a laugh. It would serve her right if he did choke. He managed to swallow his food, and grabbed his wineglass, needing to soothe his throat so he could talk.

  Because no way was Carter’s Crossing going to be wedding central. Not if he had anything to do with it.

  “Wedding traffic would drive business mostly in the summertime. This is a beautiful four-season location, and we want to take advantage of it. We don’t want Carter’s Crossing to be a center for weddings.”

  Nelson’s shoulders relaxed. He finally agreed with the woman about something. They didn’t want Carter’s Crossing to be a center for weddings, especially the kind of weddings that would be connected to people coming from elsewhere. Those wouldn’t be the small local weddings the town was used to. The usual, ordinary, happy events. The ones couples planned for themselves, with help from friends and family.

  He didn’t mind those.

  It was the big-production, showstopper weddings that he was opposed to. The ones that required a wedding planner, like Sherry Anstruthers. He’d had personal experience with those, and it had been a nightmare. His nightmare.

  He didn’t want that for his town, or the people who lived here.

  But Mariah didn’t finish the sentence the way Nelson would have.

  “No, we want Carter’s Crossing to be the Center for Romance.” She said it that way, like romance had a capital R on it. Like Romance was also a big production.

  Like it needed a planner.

  No way.

  Before Nelson could interrupt, his grandmother was asking, “What do you mean?” Nelson had a bad idea he knew what she meant.

  Mariah wasn’t looking at him anymore. She was focused in on Abigail. “I want Carter’s Crossing to be the place people go for romantic getaways. For anniversaries. The place they come to propose, to get married, to fall in love. We find the romance in every season. Lemonade and boat rides in summer, cider and leaf season in fall, snuggling around the fireplace in winter, drinking hot chocolate...”

  Nelson was distracted for a moment, trying to decide what beverage she was serving in spring.

  “Oh, that’s incredible,” Abigail said. “I like that. You’re right—if we do this well, it’s business for the town year-round.”

  “And,” Mariah added, “we can get started before you have the mill ready.”

  Nelson finally found his voice. “The mill?”

  His grandmother gave him a big smile. A beautiful, elegant, phony smile. She knew. She knew exactly how much he was going to hate this.

  “Yes, I’m converting the mill to an event venue.”

  An event venue? When did his grandmother start talking about things like event venues?

  “We’ll have a kitchen for catering, and space for indoor and outdoor events.”

  “Events?” he asked, his voice high and tight.

  “Yes, like weddings.”

  Just kill him now.

  CHAPTER TWO

  SOMETHING WAS GOING on here. There was a current underscoring this conversation strong enough to tow swimmers out to drown, and Mariah didn’t know what it was. But as soon as Abigail said weddings, Nelson growled. Honestly, she couldn’t think of a more accurate word to describe it.

  It gave her pause. The romance destination idea was good. More than good. This town could be perfect; it had lots of big old houses that Abigail swore were set for bed-and-breakfast locations. There were four lovely churches and the town gazebo for wedding and vow-renewal ceremonies, as well as the mill that Abigail was renovating. The small river that wound its way along one side of the town might not be big enough for yachts, but it was pretty, and could handle canoes and kayaks. A couple of nice restaurants, a few more activities for visitors, and this could be stellar.

  But if Nelson was opposed, she didn’t know if the plan would go ahead. She had no idea how much influence he wielded over his grandmother or the rest of the people in the town. She had the definite impression he didn’t like her.

  Well, he hadn’t liked her when she told him to get lost. And yes, that was fair. But since they’d served dinner, she’d felt his animosity like a force field around him.

  Could he torpedo this whole idea?

  There was one way to find out.

  Abigail and Nelson were staring at each other like tomcats considering a fight.

  “Is this a problem?”

  “Yes.”

  “No.”

  The answers crashed over each other.

  “Nelson,” Abigail said. It was the I’m the parent, you’re crossing the line kind of voice that mothers and fathers had used since Adam and Eve.

  “You know...” He was growling again.

  “I do. But it’s been long enough. I’ve been trying to find some way to save this town. This is our best opportunity. Can you get past it?”

  Mariah wondered if she should have excused herself. But the clash between them had come up so suddenly... She wasn’t sure what the issue was, but apparently, it was major. And whatever it was, it was going to have a big effect on her plans for this next year.

  Nelson stood. “It’s not up to me, is it? You’ve already made your decision. Just keep me out of it, please. Excuse me, Ms. Van Delton, Grandmother.” He turned and left, leaving Abigail and Mariah staring at the doorway where he’d disappeared.

  “I’m sorry,” Abigail said. “I shouldn’t have sprung that on him. You must think we’re crazy.”

  Mariah shook her head. “I’m not the one who’s upset here. But I need to ask, are you sure this is a good idea?”

  Abigail nodded firmly. “Absolutely. Your idea of a romance destination is wonderful. I’ll get the committee on board and you can tell us what we need to do.”

  Mariah’s glance drifted back to the doorway.

  “And your grandson?” Mariah wasn’t sure Abigail had any other family. She had no desire to find herself in the middle of a fam
ily drama.

  Abigail sighed. “As you can tell, he has an issue, yes. But it’s time he moved on. He won’t do anything to stop us.”

  Mariah was afraid her skepticism must be showing on her face.

  Abigail smiled. “I’ve known Nelson all his life. He’ll be fine, once he gets accustomed to the idea. And this shouldn’t affect him at all, should it? I don’t imagine any of your ideas for romance involve a veterinarian.”

  Mariah had a quick vision of Nelson, soft lighting, romantic music, and shook her head. No, she wasn’t thinking of any romance involving a veterinarian. Definitely not. And not in the way Abigail meant, either. She had limited her vision of romance to people, not animals. She didn’t foresee bringing any livestock into the picture.

  Though they could—and she slammed the door on any thoughts about indulging people’s pet wedding fantasies, Persians in veils or terriers in tuxes. Maybe later.

  “Nelson’s work won’t be affected, so he really has nothing to be upset about. He just needs time.”

  Mariah had the feeling Abigail was trying to convince herself.

  Abigail shook her head. “I should have known better than to make coq au vin. Please, enjoy your meal—I’ll take Nelson something later, when he’s cooled down a bit.

  “Now, what do you need from me to make this work?”

  * * *

  NELSON STALKED ACROSS the driveway to the carriage house. He could not believe his grandmother was doing this.

  He veered between frustration and anger. He was angry that his grandmother ruined what would have been a spectacular dinner by bringing up the one topic guaranteed to give him heartburn. He was frustrated that she had made such a big plan without talking to him. And he could not believe that Mariah—Mariah—was the one still at the dining room table instead of him.

  He wished Mariah had been truly lost.

  He stormed into his apartment. Yes, being angry with Mariah was something he could get on board with. She’d annoyed him when she turned down his offer of help. Maybe she wasn’t lost, but she could have been polite. And here she was, ready to bring the chaos and stress and havoc of elaborate weddings to Carter’s Crossing.