Christmas Home (The Coming Home #6)

21. Ruther

twenty-one

Ruther

T he following week flew by. I roused Corey every day to go to the café by nine in the morning to catch Clyde for his break. The two men seemed to get along fine, although Corey was often preoccupied with dealings in New York, meaning the ongoing renovations in my apartment.

“Oh, Lord, you should’ve seen it,” Clyde said in the middle of one of his engaging stories. Sometimes, one of the townspeople would pull up a chair to join us, but most had already come and gone by the time Corey and I got to the café. I liked it that way.

Besides, Jake and Lance had begun to pull Corey and me into their lives since we’d all gone to the winery together.

Lance invited us for dinner a few days after the winery trip and showed me his concept for a housing development at the motel site. It was impressive. None of the homes were larger than fifteen hundred square feet, and all of the little bungalows had front porches big enough for a swing or rocking chair. It all looked very homey and quaint in all the best ways.

“So, you want to recreate homes from the thirties or forties?” I asked after Lance showed me all his preliminary designs.

He nodded, as did Jake behind him. “If Crawford City instead of Mayville had grown into the town it should’ve, with a railroad coming through it, these are the kinds of homes we could’ve expected to see on the outskirts of downtown. Since the railroad all but abandoned Crawford City before that could happen, we have the land you are looking at, but we can still recreate that old-fashioned feel.”

I stared at the plans and could tell Corey was excited about the idea, but I wasn’t entirely convinced. “So, you think this is what people want? Not more modern designs?”

Jake stepped in then. “We have a lot of modern houses being built out in rural areas. Some rather large estates for people with money to burn. But for folks wanting to live close to town and who don’t have millions in the bank, yes, we both think more traditional designs would be better. Hardwood floors, wide plank woodwork, but with a modern twist. Open floor plans, for example.”

I almost elbowed Corey, who, in a very out-of-character way, said, “These are perfect. Charming with a historical feel but not dated. Brilliant.”

I nodded and sighed. “I agree. How many do you think we could put in that area?”

Jake and Lance glanced at one another, then Lance clicked another page on his proposal. “We think you should tear down the motel and add townhouses across the front. You could sell them, but you could also lease them out.”

Jake sighed. “We hate the idea of losing tourist money, and even though the motel is run-down, it is a place to stay for people who aren’t looking for what we provide here at the hotel. The finances don’t support me adding the next addition unless I can charge what we do now, but if you had a few units that could be used as vacation rentals, it could provide an affordable alternative and ensure the investment is worth it.”

“I have no intention of running a bed-and-breakfast. Who do you see managing this?” I asked, already assuming I knew where this was going.

“Catherine could manage them for you. She has been in the business since she was a child, and we already have cleaning staff.”

When they paused, I laughed. “Okay, I’m not going to fight you on this. I just need to see the numbers. I’m not opposed to keeping an asset, although, to be honest, if we build the vacation units, you should consider purchasing it yourself, let it become part of your portfolio.”

Jake and Lance looked at each other and exchanged some sort of unspoken communication. “We can talk to our partners about that,” Jake said. “Now, let’s discuss a possible builder.”

I listened as they sang the praises of Amos’s son, Todd. My father had liked Todd’s grandfather and had used him on multiple occasions to work at the estate. I forced the nerves to skim past that thought.

If all the praise Jake and Lance were giving Todd was any indication, it’d be worth talking to him. Being the third generation to provide quality workmanship in the same community also bode well.

“We need to warn you though. Todd is booked out for at least a year.”

“Do I have any other options locally?” I asked. “I’m guessing bringing in a builder from the outside wouldn’t be the town council’s preference.”

“The Richards brothers have experience building new construction, and I happen to know they’re about done with a joint project with Todd and Amos.” Jake looked at me thoughtfully, and I saw the shrewd businessman behind his charming persona. “Would you let us take point on this? I can find and recommend an available builder, one we trust and the town council won’t balk at.”

“No,” Corey interjected. “I’m happy to accept your recommendations, but we have a set way of doing business. However, if you’d like to help me as I set up a feasibility plan and meet with potential contractors, I’d welcome your assistance.”

I stifled a grin, having known instinctively Corey was going to nix all that.

“Yes, of course,” Lance said. “Let me make a couple of inquiries, and if the contractors are available, I’ll set up an appointment.”

“That’s acceptable,” Corey said, and just like that, we were off. I honestly didn’t think this project would get off the ground. There were a lot of variables. Not the least of which was me not officially living here or, more to the point, dealing with the monster on the hill that still haunted me.

However, Corey now had his claws into the project, and he’d be able to ensure it was done to his satisfaction, no matter where I factored into the equation.

With my sprained ankle on the mend, I cited needing to walk more as my reason for regularly showing up at the café around the time Clyde got off work. I knew he was tired, which made escorting him across town to his motel all the more important to me.

Corey and I had agreed we’d been eating way too much fried food, so he’d started cooking or prepping salads at the condo. But I still wanted to see my new friend whenever possible. Friend . I was trying to force myself to think of Clyde that way.

So far, I’d only been mildly successful in that effort. More often than not, I wanted to draw him into my arms and kiss him, but small steps were necessary here, for both of us. As predicted, spending time with Clyde and focusing on the new project were making me feel less anxious about the town.

Was I even close to being able to face my childhood house of horrors? Far from it. But at least I wasn’t constantly surfing a potential panic attack. I’d take any positive I could get, and that was a significant one.