One Snowy Night (Sweet Home, Alaska #1) - Patience Griffin Page 0,26

the back porch.”

Courtney took measurements of everything and recorded them in a notebook. “I’ll get you copies of everything I’m doing.” When she wasn’t flirting, she seemed very professional, and Donovan felt like the sale of the lodge was in good hands.

When he led Courtney into his grandmother’s sewing studio, Courtney sighed and turned back to him.

“You know, I only came a couple of times with my mom to the Sisterhood of the Quilt, but I really liked it. At the time I chose to spend more time with my friends. I guess I just assumed the Sisterhood of the Quilt would always be around.”

“Me, too.”

Courtney gave him a sad smile, and in that moment, she seemed more real than he’d ever seen her. But then the moment was gone. “We’ll have to think about how to stage the studio. It certainly can’t be a sewing room. That would only appeal to a small subset of buyers. It’s large enough to make it into an in-home theater with dark curtains to block out all the natural light from those large windows.”

He felt another twinge of guilt—actually more than a twinge. The studio had been his grandmother’s pride and joy. It was where the Sisterhood of the Quilt met. It was where laughter had reigned and memories had been made.

Courtney walked to the doorway. “Show me the bedrooms.”

He took her upstairs and answered all her questions, while she jotted down the details of each one. There were a lot of rooms to cover in the main building, and then there were the three cabins outside, and she wanted to examine every one of them. Donovan was beginning to worry that Rick would think he wasn’t going to meet him in town at all.

“How many acres with the property?” Courtney asked, looking at the view of the river out back.

“I believe a hundred,” Donovan said.

“I’ll check with the borough to be sure, and find all the boundary lines.” She stopped and looked at him. “Do you want to go into town for lunch before we get started on the hardware store?”

“Actually . . .” Donovan made a show of looking at his watch. “This has taken more time than I expected. I’m supposed to be on my way to Anchorage with Rick by now. Is there any way we can reschedule the hardware store for when I get back?”

Courtney’s pleasant smile faded. “I really can’t do it tomorrow or the day after. I have appointments with clients outside of Fairbanks the next two days.” She appeared conflicted. “I could try to reschedule with them.”

“No. I’m not in a super rush.” But Donovan could tell his dad was anxious to have him in Florida as soon as possible. Which brought up several more things he’d have to do to make things work, if he was going to put off selling the lodge until spring. Like finding that contractor, a manager to run the place, and a housekeeper.

“What about Friday?” Courtney offered. “Let’s meet up for coffee at the Hungry Bear. Nine a.m.?” It was amazing how quickly she’d switched from conflicted to completely in charge and in control. “Is it a date?”

Not a date. Donovan didn’t have the time or the inclination to do any canoodling—Nan’s word—while he was in Alaska. “I can meet you Friday morning.”

Courtney didn’t linger but went to her car, as if afraid he might change his mind. Or maybe she was being considerate, understanding that he was late. “See you at nine on Friday at the Hungry Bear.” She waved and got in her car.

But as soon as she did, he had a creeping feeling of doubt. Hope. Hope worked at the Hungry Bear, and seeing him with Sweet Home High’s biggest flirt would certainly make her jealous.

But they weren’t in high school anymore. They were adults now. They were nothing to each other. Just acquaintances. She’d had a whole life he knew nothing about. No way would she be jealous.

But the feeling still nagged that he would be doing something awful to Hope if he met Courtney at the Hungry Bear.

On autopilot, Donovan took Boomer’s makeshift bed to the SUV and set it in the back seat. Next, he put Boomer in, then locked up the lodge, though Donovan doubted there was a need. Besides, it seemed that someone in Sweet Home already had a key. The same someone who had left seasoned firewood by the hearth. He wondered if it was Hope. He decided Piney would