When he released her, she patted his cheek. “So I’ve heard. I take it this means I helped?”
“Darn tooting you did.” Ideas flashed into his brain. Probably not the same ones she would have figured on triggering, but that was fine. He was no longer looking for a way to burn off his pissy mood. Now he needed to get home and make some plans. “You mind if I run?”
She grinned. “Go. I’d never stand in the way of a man’s progress.”
He stopped beside his bike and rummaged through his pockets. He could have sworn he’d shoved the letter in there after he’d read it that morning.
His letter of recommendation. His firing papers. An old grocery list. Finally, the one he was looking for.
A very expensive envelope containing the letter that had made him laugh out loud over breakfast. The out-of-the-blue offer to buy his house. The potential buyer hadn’t known about the clauses that made their plans impossible.
But if he made a few adjustments to the offer, maybe there would be a middle ground where they could meet. He couldn’t sell out, but he could see his place as an awesome B&B location.
Mark Weaver, the habitually unemployed was ready to become Mark Weaver, chief resort-maintenance coordinator. And he wouldn’t even have to leave his own home to do it.
Chapter Two
A loose strand of hair flapped in front of her face until Tessa tucked it behind one ear. She stared at the approaching shoreline. She’d chosen to arrive via the ocean from Skagway over to Haines instead of driving the six hours from Whitehorse. Not only did it make the trip shorter, it gave her another glimpse of the spectacular house.
Even though the slow rise and fall of the water was muted on the ferry, she was hanging on to her stomach control by a thin thread. Motion sickness made it tough to linger on deck, but she wanted one more confirmation her idea was more than a wild fantasy.
She shoved a piece of gum into her mouth and chewed rapidly to distract herself. Nothing had been finalized, but she’d made a decision. She was determined to establish a B&B in Haines, somewhere. Her first choice of location was still first on the list. Hopefully dealing with this Mark Weaver fellow in person would help smooth the roadblocks she’d hit.
His email response to her offer to buy his house had been unexpected. It wasn’t an outright no, which was positive, but she hadn’t expected a maybe type answer. She knew better than to dismiss his counterproposal out of hand. The best business ideas usually went through a couple modifications before resolving into a working solution, so she’d packed her bags, taken the bulls by the horns, yada yada yada, and arranged a trip to settle the details one way or another.
The ferry rounded the point and the vista changed. Tessa grabbed the railing with both hands and leaned forward, eager to spot her target.
Here the northern portion of the Pacific Inside Passage opened into a wide bay, with the town of Haines spread over the center left section. The harbour sat as the base, houses and buildings rising in neat layers up the gentle mountainside. Traces of civilization poked through the trees lining the road as it meandered up the valley to the distant mountain pass. Drivers taking that route would eventually hit Haines Junction and the intersection that led back to Whitehorse or into the bulk of the Alaskan landmass.
Her goal sat farther to the east. The town continued to spread in a thin line along the narrow highway up to Chilkoot Lake, one of the destinations each fall for thousands of spawning salmon. The pretty river descending from the lake sparkled in the sunshine like a beacon. She glanced to the right of it, sighing as her target came into sight.
The enormous paddle wheeler sat crosswise to the waters of the bay. It should have looked out of place tucked into the trees, but it was as if the boat continued its journey up a river, the dense northern forest on either side passing slowly as the ship carried cargo and passengers toward various remote destinations.
Tessa rested her chin in her hands and grinned. There was a full deck circling the second story, just like she’d remembered. It would be perfect for making individual sitting areas for the cabins she would turn into high-class staterooms. The third story had a raised back section that would be her private living quarters, while the front contained the spectacular window-filled area that would be the feature room of the entire B&B.
She could picture it now—a long communal dining table on the right side, and easy chairs and cozy private seats gathered around the massive fireplace she would have built at the far end of the room.
There would be dorm and entertainment rooms on the lower levels, along with storage for all the outdoor play equipment people could want. Tessa caught herself bouncing on her heels as ideas flooded her brain.