Jill Weatherholt - A Father For Bella

He was certainly striking. At five feet and eight inches, she’d always considered herself tall, but next to him, she felt tiny. He’d be about six foot three, she guessed. It was difficult not to stare at him, with his closely cut dark hair and chiseled features, but his looks were a good reason why she needed to keep her distance. Obviously, he’d captured Bella’s heart. Most nights, Faith overheard her daughter saying her prayers. Bella always prayed for a daddy and a new husband for her mommy.

“Mommy, did you hear me?”

She jumped at the sound of Bella’s voice. “I’m sorry, sweetie, what did you say?”

“Can Mr. Joshua come to our house for dinner tonight?” Bella gazed at her newfound hero with starry eyes.

Faith bit the inside of her cheek and glanced toward Joshua, who appeared completely at ease with the question. “Bella, don’t be silly. We’ve taken up enough of his time. He hasn’t even checked into his room.” She noticed the empty mug. “Speaking of, Mrs. Watson typically checks in our guests, but if you’re finished, I can take care of that.”

Bella hopped off her stool. Plato, who’d been asleep on a fluffy brown pillow by the back door, jumped up. His toenails scrabbled as he scurried along the hardwood floor, his tail moving like windshield wipers in a driving rainstorm. Bella grabbed Joshua’s hand. “I can show him!”

He smiled at Bella before turning to Faith. “I appreciate your hospitality, but I don’t want to keep you from going home.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost dinnertime, and isn’t tonight a school night, Bella?” He rubbed the top of her head.

Faith walked to the sink. “Yes, it is.” She poured the rest of her hot chocolate down the drain and rinsed the cup under some warm water. “Let’s get you settled into your room.” She dried her hands on the striped dishtowel and flung it on the granite counter.

“Oh, man, school ruins everything, even if I’m only in kindergarten.” Bella scooped Plato into her arms and kissed the top of his head. “I’m going to go watch Mr. Watson. He’s building something in the basement.”

“Don’t bother him while he’s working. We’ll head home as soon as I get Mr. Joshua checked in.”

“I won’t bother him.” She skipped out of the room with her dog tight in her arms, whistling a random tune.

Joshua turned to Faith and smiled. “You’ve got your hands full with that one.”

“You’re not kidding. I think the child was born whistling.”

They headed out of the kitchen and into the foyer. Chatter from the dining room echoed across the foyer. The aroma of tangy mustard and brown sugar tickled her nose. Home-style meat loaf smothered in onions was Chef Michael’s specialty, and Faith’s favorite.

“The Black Bear must have a great chef. That’s quite a crowd.” He pointed toward the dining room. “And the food...it smells wonderful.”

Her heart sank as the newspaper article she’d read before Bella took off seeped back into her mind. Would Michael lose his job? Would she lose hers? And what about her home? The inn couldn’t be going up for auction out of nowhere, but according to the paper that was the owner’s plan. Why hadn’t she been told? As the manager for four years, she should have been informed.

She couldn’t think about that—not now. “Yes, Michael came from a popular restaurant in New York City about three years ago. He gave up the frantic pace of city life. We’re grateful we hired him. He knows how to bring in the crowds.”

“They’re not all guests, are they?”

She shook her head. “No, we’ve got a lot of the locals who love his food.”

Where would everyone eat after the inn was sold? The paper said there were rumors of an upscale resort and condos. What would happen to the quaint cottage she rented on the property? Bella called it their gingerbread house. It’d been their home since the fire.

Faith stepped behind a mahogany counter and tapped her fingers on the keyboard. “Oh, I see you have reservations for four weeks.” Her head tilted to the side. “Our guests normally don’t stay that long. Many are weekend warriors who come up to hit the slopes. You must be a great skier.”

He examined his fingernails. “I’m okay, I guess.”

Faith scrolled through the information and took notice of the Bethesda address he’d mentioned earlier. Her best friend from high school had graduated from George Washington University in DC. Real estate in the surrounding area wasn’t cheap. She wondered what Joshua did for a living, but didn’t want to appear nosy by asking. “It’s nice you’re able to take so much time off from work.”

He nodded and pulled his credit card from an eel-skin wallet. “I assume you take this? Or would you rather have a different kind?”

Faith grabbed the card and swiped it through the machine. “This is fine.”

The click of the equipment printing the receipt filled the air while they waited.

“Earlier, I heard an advertisement for the inn on the radio. Do you do any other form of advertising?” He slipped his credit card into his wallet.

He was certainly curious about the business. Perhaps he was only making conversation. “Not really. Word of mouth works well for the Black Bear.” She tugged the receipt from the machine and slid it across the counter for his signature.

She stole a quick glance at the signature—Carlson. Why did the name seem familiar? “Do you have any family in the area?” She waited for his answer as he pulled a pack of peppermint gum from his pocket.

“No, my family’s all from Bethesda.” He extended the pack of gum in front of her. “Would you like a piece?”

Her cheeks warmed as she accepted the offer. “Thank you.” She peeled away the foil and slid the cool stick on her tongue. Peppermint had always been her favorite, too.

“What about you? Any family in the area?”

“Only my twin sister, Joy, and she’s a schoolteacher here in Whispering Slopes.”

“Joy and Faith... I like that, and twins, too. When I was a kid, I always thought it would be great to have an identical twin. You know, to play tricks on your teachers and other kids.” He flashed a smile.

She forced her eyes away from his rugged good looks. Why did he make her so nervous? “We’re not identical twins. Except for our hair color, we’re nothing alike, but we’re closer than any twins you’ll ever meet.” She rolled the gum wrapper between her fingers into a tight ball, anxious to get home.

“I guess that made it easier on your parents. Do they live in the area?”

Ready for him to leave, but not wanting to be rude, she answered. “They died in a car accident while driving to the Outer Banks of North Carolina to celebrate their anniversary.” She paused when a shiver ran down her spine. “Joy and I were only two years old, so our grandparents raised us—here in this house.” The sound of her parents’ voices or the feel of their touch was something she couldn’t remember. All that remained were a few boxes stuffed with crinkled photographs. Except for the past four years, she felt she’d barely had roots or a home—another reason why she couldn’t lose the inn.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to reopen old wounds.” His voice cracked.

Faith shook her head. “No, it’s okay.” But it really wasn’t. Sharing pieces of her personal life with a strange man—what was she thinking? It was wrong. “Listen to me rambling on. You’re probably exhausted.” She stepped out from behind the counter with his room key in her hand. “Do you need help with your luggage?”

“No, thank you. I can handle it.” He turned and headed toward the front door.

With a stack of credit card receipts, Faith scuttled to her office, which was located off the foyer. The massive cherry desk that faced a floor-to-ceiling window provided her with an amazing daytime view, especially on snowy winter days. She slipped behind her desk and opened the lateral file drawer. She fingered through the manila file folders before placing the receipts inside. As she started to push the drawer closed, her eyes locked on a folder labeled “Our Dream.” She slammed the drawer shut. Our dream, baby—we both wanted it so bad. You’d still be alive if we’d gone after it sooner.