Yearning for Love Read online

  “Corey?”

  It’s several seconds before I’m able to allow a remote, disinterested, “Hmmm?” to come out of my throat. I stay busy, chopping vegetables and grating a large amount of cheese. We still have eleven guests, twelve counting Nate, to prepare for.

  “Will you come and talk with me?” Nate sounds . . . different.

  “No. I have too much to do,” I tell him coolly. I will not turn around.

  “Please?”

  I turn and the look in my eyes must convince him, because he backs out of the kitchen with both hands upraised. Once he’s gone, I return to grating cheese and chopping large amounts of onion and canned whole tomatoes.

  Needing to calm myself down, I pull my jacket and gloves on after working on dinner prep.

  “Mom, I’ll be back within an hour. I need a walk,” I tell her, gesturing upstairs at Nate’s room.

  “Okay, just be back before five, please,” Mom says.

  “I will.” I take off in the direction of one of my favorite trails. Walking uphill slowly, I conserve my strength, breathing easily and thinking, Nate’s here, and it’s obvious he wants to get me back into my desk next week. After his detached behavior the other day, I am definitely going to resign my job. I can find something comparable at a non-profit, and I can help the executive director keep things running smoothly. Looking around me to keep oriented, I measure the distance I’ve already walked. I still need to become calmer. I set off again, deciding to walk farther. I go over Nate’s refusal to accept my letter of resignation. What is his problem? He doesn’t love me – he refuses to commit to anyone, let alone a 20-year-old executive assistant. Therefore, it’s up to me to protect my heart, I tell myself. I know I need to come up with possible solutions. I got some good training while I worked for Drummond Oil. They’re well known in El Paso – heck, in all of Texas, so I know that having it on my resume will interest future employers.

  Finally, I look around. Wow! I’ve come quite a distance. Turning around, I trek carefully down the hill, wanting to get back home before it starts getting dark. As well as I know this trail, I do not want to be stuck out here after dark because I don’t want to meet some of the wildlife face-to-face. Inside the house, I clean my boots, and take my jacket and gloves off. I join Mom in the kitchen, helping her with the dinnertime preparations. Removing the baked enchiladas from the oven, I take them to the sideboard, and place them inside the recessed opening. Mom follows with the beans and Spanish rice.

  “Would you make two bean-and-cheese burritos for Ashleigh and Zack? They won’t be eating the enchiladas, because they aren’t used to the hot taste like we are,” Mom explains.

  I heat two tortillas and spread refried beans and a light layer of cheese, then roll them carefully, slipping them onto a heated plate.

  At dinnertime, I sit next to a really cute little girl and explain the food to her.

  “Ashleigh, these are pinto beans and this is Spanish rice. These are red enchiladas. I made a special enchilada for you with no chili.” Actually, it’s two corn tortillas fried in olive oil, then topped with cheese and a tiny amount of onion.

  “Is it good?” she asks me, with doubt in her eyes.

  I’m glad she’s talking to me, because that means I don’t have to look at Nate.

  “Yup. My mom and I made it all by ourselves in the kitchen. Here, try one bean . . .” I spear a bean, and place it between her lips. She chews thoughtfully. Next, I give her a small spoonful of the rice.

  Finally, she nods and says thoughtfully, “And this is Mesico food?”

  “Well, we say it’s ‘Mexican’ food. You like?”

  “I like. How’s my ‘chilala taste?”

  I give her a small bite of her tostada, and she smiles, relieved. She sits up in her booster seat, ready to chow down. I cut her mock enchilada into small pieces for her, and give her a fork. She digs in enthusiastically.

  Once I’ve introduced Ashleigh to the wonders of Mexican food, I talk with her parents and older brother about what they did in Ruidoso that day. They had visited some tubing runs for a few hours, then came back into Ruidoso, where they did some shopping. Ashleigh was tired after lunch, so they brought her back, and we kept an eye on her while she rested.

  Finally, dinner is over, and I sequester myself in the kitchen, scraping dishes and loading them in the large dishwasher. After that’s done, I run up to my room, where I grab my e-reader. Thankfully, it’s loaded with lots of good books, so I can stay occupied in the living room. Back downstairs, I choose a seat as far away from Nate as possible – by the tree. Ashleigh plops herself on my lap, and asks me about myself, so I indulge her. Stuffing my e-reader between my thigh and the arm of my chair, I tell the little girl that I live and work in El Paso. Unfortunately, that leads to a succession of questions about my work, and Nate decides to jump in with the gem that I work for him. Thank you. Mr. Drummond!

  Ashleigh’s parents get confused looks on their faces, as they haven’t seen me interacting with Mr. Drummond at all. When Ashleigh’s dad tries to ask, my mom intercedes, introducing another topic. Mom, I owe you!

  “I’ll be staying here, celebrating with anyone who wants to ring in 2013. We’ll have drinks, sparkling cider and snacks, as well as noisemakers,” Mom says. “Corey, what will you be doing?”

  “I have no plans to go out. I just want to stay close to home,” I say. It’s the truth – mostly.

  Mom’s guests all weigh in with their plans – staying at the B&B, or going to the Inn of the Mountain Gods to celebrate, dance, and drink the night away.

  I take this opportunity to remind our guests that the road between Ruidoso and the Inn is winding and dangerous at night, especially if black ice builds up. “If you’ve had too much to drink, please make sure you have reservations at the Inn. When you’re sober again, your room will be right here,” I tell them.

  Nate: I’ve arrived in Ruidoso and I’m settling into my room. Corey is steadfastly refusing to look at me, much less talk to me. Can I blame her? Hell, no! She’s stayed in the kitchen, brought her Kindle down with her, and spoken almost exclusively with that little girl’s family. She won’t even sit near me. God, I fucked up! Looks like I’m going to have to stay at least through New Year’s Day, if not longer. Fortunately, two can play this game. I can ignore her just as easily as she’s ignoring me. I’ll just make myself indispensable to her mother. Oh, shit, what’s that smile on Corey’s face all about? She looks . . . relieved about something.

  Corey: When I go to bed, I’m working through the details of my idea to stay and work here. I want to look at everything, and think of all the objections mom could come up with. I take my Kindle back upstairs with me, and after I brush my teeth and shower, I settle into my lonely bed with a book to read. I chose a cute and engaging – and gripping YA novella to read. I grow absorbed in a story called “My Betrayal.” I read about Lily’s mistake in dating a boy from her high school while she’s dating Gabe. She’s quickly pulled into a spiral of stalking, isolation and a near date rape, before she is able to outwit Tyler, the boy she went out with.

  Finally, my eyes begin to grow heavy. Turning my reader off, I put it away, and turn the light out. I must be totally exhausted, because I sleep heavily, even though Nate is in another room. When my alarm goes off at 5:30 in the morning, I’m feeling slightly better. I dress warmly because it’s cold and threatening to snow. With my hair worn down and minimal makeup on my face, I hurry downstairs to help my mother get breakfast ready. As we work on the French toast, pancakes, scrambled eggs and toast, I broach my idea to her.

  “Mom, I’ve decided that I’m going to resign my job, no matter what. I’d like to give up my apartment and move up here with you. What do you think?”

  “Why would you isolate yourself up here? I enjoy it because that’s what I want. You’re not even 21, Corey. I’d love to have you up here! But not if you’re going to feel isolated and locked away from the activity I know you enjoy.”

  I reply,“
I thought about that. Las Cruces is three hours away, and the Inn, thirty minutes. If I need to go have the fun that’s not available up here, I can make arrangements with you and go. I’d love to be here and work with you – and, let’s face it – I can work on the business side, and allow you to take care of the guests.” I say this with triumph, knowing she’d love to turn some of the workload over to me.

  “I can’t deny that’s a very attractive idea, hon. Let me think about it . . . Well, good morning, Nate! Did you sleep well?”

  My neck muscles tense up. I make a beeline for the coffeemaker, and pour myself a large, steaming cup of coffee, and add sweetener and cream to it. Returning to the stove, I steadfastly ignore Nate as I pour pancake batter, and dip bread slices in the egg mix for the French toast.

  “Yes, I did, thank you. Is there anything you’d like me to do?” he asks. He’s not looking at me at all – wow.

  Nate: I’d love to talk to Corey. Hell, I’d love to carry her off, and make slow love to her for the next week! Instead, I’ve decided I’ll get to her through her mother. I’ll help Brenda around the place, doing whatever it is she needs done. I smile inside, seeing her shock when I ignore her. She’s busy with breakfast, and I notice her pancake-flipping rhythm falter just slightly, as she realizes I’m not going to talk to her. Good. That means there is something there – despite my monumental foul-up.

  After breakfast, I repeat my offer to Brenda, and outside, I chop a large pile of wood for the two fireplaces in the B&B. Once that’s done, I help her clean the public area of the B&B. I vacuum and dust the living and dining areas. As I do so, I spot small repairs that need to be taken care of. Once I put the vacuum away, I find Brenda.

  “Brenda, I noticed some loose screws on the window locks. These first-floor windows need to be as secure as possible. You have a lot of valuables here that a thief would just love to get his hands on. If you have some tools, I can find and make these repairs for you – and save you precious dollars,” I tell her.

  Brenda smiles gratefully, and gives me a large toolbox. With that box, I go through the house, finding and making needed repairs. Once the first floor repairs have been made, I run upstairs and repeat this process. I notice a bedroom door that is slightly off-kilter, so I correct that. I go through the bathrooms and tighten faucets and spigots. When that’s done, I run back downstairs, and ask Brenda what she’s planning to make for dinner.

  “Oh, don’t worry about that. Corey and I have that under control. If you’d like, I’m planning on grilled ham-and-cheese sandwiches for lunch. Along with chopped veggies and yogurt, that’s the menu for lunch.”

  “I’m your man,” I tell her. I spot Corey sitting in the small office working on the B&B paperwork. A sick feeling comes over me. What if she decides to resign – and work for her mother? I refuse to walk into the small office; my plan depends heavily on ignoring her. Still, Brenda must see the look of concern on my face, because she crooks her finger at me, and motions toward the living room with her head. I follow her.

  “I saw that look on your face when you looked at Corey. Nate, she’s hurting badly. She’s bound and determined to resign from Drummond Oil because she thinks you have hurt her by being so remote about your father. She talked to me this morning about moving up here and taking over the business part of the B&B. I told her I’d love to have her, but that I don’t want her to lose out on having a life of her own – going out and being with her friends, things like that. She told me that if she needs some fun, she can drive to Las Cruces or the Inn.”

  ‘Did she tell you what I said when we got to the hospital after landing in El Paso?” I ask Brenda.

  “Yes, she did. Nate, that was a huge blunder. You . . . became lovers. When you ‘informed’ her that your staff would update her about your dad’s condition, you put her firmly back in the employee role. If that’s not confusing, I don’t know what is. By the way, how is your dad?”

  “Improving, thanks. He’s in a rehab facility in El Paso, getting the therapy he needs so he can speak again,” I tell Brenda.

  “Listen. I’m going to be blunt with you. She’s in love with you, but won’t say anything. more about it to me. She’s hurting, especially after your ‘personnel’ remark at the hospital. Nate, you screwed up big,” says Brenda.

  I hang my head. She’s right, and I know it. Sure doesn’t make me feel any better, knowing that.

  “You’re right. Knowing that I was tied up in knots about my dad doesn’t excuse how miserably I treated her. I have some work ahead of me.”

  Brenda nods emphatically. “Yes, you certainly do. Now, it’s getting late, and we need to get those sandwiches made.”

  In the kitchen, I get to work, allowing myself to work on autopilot, while I think about what Brenda and I just talked about. After chopping the vegetables, I heat the griddle for the sandwiches and assemble them. Brushing melted butter on the bread, I grill them and stack them on a heated plate.

  “Lunch is on!” I call out. We have coffee because it’s insistently cloudy and still threatening to snow. After lunch, I continue making small repairs as I come across them. These old houses are very well-built, but they do need to be maintained constantly. As I work, I think about my situation with Corey. She still wants to resign – and move up here. That is not good. From there, my thoughts move to us – married and driving up here every few weeks to spend time with Corey’s mom. In my imagination, there’s a cute little baby sleeping in a car seat in the back. She has her mother’s vivid green eyes and curly auburn hair.

  I smell the delicious scents from downstairs – roast beef, I believe, with potatoes and some kind of vegetable. I smell something chocolatey for dessert. Man, when I leave here, I’m going to have to lose some serious weight! My stomach pulls me downstairs. I can continue looking for and making repairs tomorrow – even on New Year’s Day.

  Downstairs, I find Brenda and Corey bringing, yep, roast beef with roasted potatoes and corn to the table. The food is simple, but very well-made. After dinner, I offer to bring in several loads of wood. The storm that’s been threatening all day long has finally arrived. I load the wood holders next to both fireplaces, while Corey cleans the kitchen, and loads the dishwasher. Again, Ashleigh sits with her in the big armchair, and Corey welcomes the child with a wide smile. I’d love to talk to Corey. In fact, it’s killing me not to talk to her! But I want her to realize on her own that she loves me as much as I love her.

  Seeing her cuddle and giggle with Ashleigh makes me return to my fantasy about Corey as the mother of a sweet, dimpled baby with auburn, curly hair and big, green eyes.

  We drive up to the B&B with the baby snoozing in the car seat strapped into the center of the back seat. As we pull up, I get out and unsnap the baby seat from its base, as Corey gets her diaper bag. I know she’ll want to check the baby’s diaper and change it, if need be. She opens the front door and smiles at Brenda with her arms wide open.

  “Oh, you two look wonderful! Let me see that little one. She needs Grandma to hold her. Will she cry if I take her out of the seat?” Brenda asks

  “She’ll stretch, then fall back asleep,” Corey says. “Before you take her, I need to check her diaper and make sure she’s not wet or dirty. That’ll wake her up, so as soon as I’m done, I’ll bring her back downstairs, okay?”

  Five minutes later, Corey’s back with a freshly changed four month old heartbreaker, who gazes around her with large, solemn eyes. Brenda melts, and takes the baby from Corey.

  “Hey, Natalia, it’s Grandma! Did you like your trip? You did? You slept the whole way? Well, let’s hope you sleep tonight, and allow Mommy and Daddy to get their sleep, too! You know what? I’ll wear you out and you will sleep. I promise you that,” says Brenda, as the baby looks at her and coos.

  We visit for the entire long holiday weekend, allowing Brenda and baby Natalia to get to know each other. We try to make these visits every few weeks, and Brenda stays up-to-date with Skype conversations. By the time Natalia
is able to move a computer mouse, she will know her grandma very well! I look at my beautiful wife, Corey. I lucked out in the beauty and love departments, as I have both of these with Corey. I am so fortunate and I know it – especially after my champion goofs a few years ago.

  Chapter 7

  Yes. I said it – I am head over freakin’ heels in love with Corey Temple. I’d love to climb to the roof of this old house and shout it out – but I’d be more likely to break my damn neck, so that’ll have to wait. I take my cup of coffee and sit on the sofa next to Brenda, where I ask her where some of her guests are.

  “Ashleigh’s parents have gone to the Inn of the Mountain Gods to celebrate New Year’s Eve, so we agreed to watch the kids for them. Our other guests from Canada have gone into Ruidoso, where they’re celebrating at a hotel or a restaurant with a bar. What about you?”

  I whisper my answer to her. “If I can’t go with Corey, I’d rather have a quiet evening here.”

  Brenda lowers her voice as well. “Ah. I think you both have it bad. I just hope the two of you come to your senses before long.”

  I blush. Her zinger hit home. She’s right. I smile and say, “I’m going to try getting her to talk to me tomorrow, actually. Do you have other repairs that need to be done?”

  Brenda’s voice rises to its normal tone. “You’re going to do work around here? On New Year’s Eve?”

  “Why not? You will be. You have guests here, and you’re not going to expect them to do things for themselves.”

  “Good point. Actually, I do have a can of paint stored away. I’ve been planning on painting the door frames to the Mescalero room – a previous guest’s son decided it would be fun to take a sharp object to the paint, and while I’ve made some short-term fixes to that, it needs to be properly painted to look right. I had a workman sand off the ruined paint and prime it, but he never came back to finish the job.”