Healing Hearts

An unsual inheritance leads to an unexpected love.

Recent culinary graduate Bailey Jameson is taken by surprise at the sudden death of the beloved great-aunt who raised her. When she travels to a tiny New Hampshire town to claim her inheritance she begins to realize she holds the key to making all her dreams come true.

Burned out from his role on an elite Search and Rescue team, Luke Adams is laying low in the last place he thinks life could reach him, the quiet Northeast town of Wolf Creek.

While Bailey is busy building her dreams, Luke starts to realize a few dreams of his own, and for the first time he sees a path to the future he’s always wanted. But, is his future big enough to hold both Bailey and his demanding job?

Chapter 1

Is this for real?" Bailey Jameson sat back and held the notarized document in front of her eyes. Her hand was shaking. She'd known, of course, that her great-aunt Jane never married, never had children of her own, but it never occurred to Bailey that she would leave the bulk of her estate to her.

Though it was printed on the page waving before her, the lawyer enumerated the details of Aunt Jane's estate. "As you can see, there's a large sum of cash left after settling her living and medical expenses. In addition to the cash, she has a financial stake in a start-up business in Wolf Creek, New Hampshire called Fresh Cuts. She also owns a building.

Photo Credit: Monica Bourgeau

Judging by the address, I'd guess it's right next to the flower shop."

Bailey lowered the paper, letting go too soon so that it floated across and landed on the lawyer's side of the desk.

With a kind smile, he righted the paper and looked at her. "It is a lot to take in. Jane Michaels was a wonderful woman. Outspoken, but kind-hearted."

Bailey smiled too. "She was. I hadn't seen her in months." She looked down at her short clean fingernails. "I was in Italy when she passed away. I didn't even know she'd been ill. I would have come home sooner." She stopped before her quaking voice betrayed her.

"She was very proud of you. Each time we met she entertained me with stories of her Bailey."

"I'm sorry. That must have been tedious."

The lawyer waved that away. "She was lovely. And she loved your mother and you a great deal."

Bailey bowed her head again, studying the signature of the woman who had given her everything. And left her everything. "She raised my mother, you know. She was so much more than a great-aunt to me."

The lawyer nodded, sympathy in his eyes. "I was sorry to hear about your mother's passing as well." His voice was soft, understanding.

"Thank you. She fought hard, and for a while we really thought she might beat it. But the cancer was too much."

"Is there anything you need, Miss Jameson? This must feel like a lot to take on right now. You're just finishing school, I understand?"

"I-yes. I mean no. I don't need anything. I just finished school this semester so I'm at loose ends anyway." She had no job, and now, no family. She turned her eyes to the list of her aunt's assets in front of her. "I haven't been to Wolf Creek since I was a child. She took us camping there a few times in the summer."

"She liked it there. She wanted to see the town revitalized. That's why she invested in the flower shop, bought the building beside it. I think she had grand plans for that place."

For the first time, Bailey let out a short laugh. "Yes, I imagine she did."

An hour later, after signing for her inheritance and providing the necessary information for the transfers, Bailey headed back to her Boston apartment. Everything about her ached from her head to her feet, but especially her heart. Everyone in her life was gone. Her mother, the aunt that had been more like a grandmother, everyone special and devoted in her world had passed on. She'd been left enough to live, to be very comfortable in life. But what good was that life when there was no one to spend it with? What would she do for Thanksgiving? For Christmas?

She tossed her purse on the counter and tucked her shoes onto the tray near the door. She thought about calling one of her friends, but decided against it. It wasn't in her nature to whine, and she didn't wish to bring someone else down just to share her misery. So, she settled for a peanut butter sandwich and a movie on TV. She found an adventure movie and prepared to lose herself in the battle between man and dinosaur. That had never failed to keep her attention. Before long, though, even the threat of being eaten alive couldn't keep Bailey's mind from the path before her. Where did it lead?

Bailey had only returned from Italy a week earlier, and her immediate plan had been to find a job as an under-chef somewhere. She had big dreams, but she wasn't naïve enough to think she could walk out of school and open her own restaurant. Except--she sat up fast, and then stood and started pacing her small apartment. Except now she could!

With the money Aunt Jane left her, it was possible. She paced faster as her mind raced with ideas. Five steps to the window. Five steps to the door. Back and forth she went on the creaky floor until her downstairs neighbor pounded on his ceiling. She stopped mid-step and dropped into her battered and comfy old recliner.

"International." She smiled. She'd always dreamed of being a chef. Once she started school she found it difficult to settle on a particular cuisine. She took the long route with her culinary education and studied nearly all of them. Through her semesters spent in England, France, Germany, China, Mexico, and Italy she'd learned everything she could about what each culture had to offer. From this, an idea had been born. She'd open an international restaurant, serving a different cuisine each day of the week. Oh, she'd offer some common choices every day in case a diner was unaware of the theme, but she could treat the more adventurous or sophisticated eaters to something more than a burger and fries.

Bailey opened her computer and began to research what she would need to start a business. The essentials of running a restaurant were no mystery to her, so she dug into the research of permits, regulations, and business licenses. Working through the night she compiled a folder of resources and a checklist of the tasks that she needed to accomplish. In several online resources she saw so many references to how frequently new start-ups fail. The odds felt overwhelmingly against her.

She stood and stretched. She'd been in the chair for hours, and it felt better to be up moving around. She walked softly to the window and leaned her forehead against the cool glass, gazing down at the narrow street below. Sadness crept upon her. It felt wrong to receive all the worldly goods of the two women who had raised her and not have them around to share this adventure with. If her mother were alive Bailey would have called her to ask her thoughts about opening a restaurant. And her mother would have supported her, encouraged her, and told her to take the chance.

And Aunt Jane. Aunt Jane would have cheered her on. She would have been there on opening night. She would have advertised the business in every one of her social clubs, in every conversation she could have snuck it into. Bailey had no doubts about that much. But could she live up to their expectations? Could she build a successful business? And, do it alone? It occurred to her then, she was really and truly alone. The tears began to fall.

* * *

Some hours later Bailey awoke to the sun shining on her face through her eastern-facing window. Her tears were spent and the daylight had chased away her sadness, at least for now. It was time to blaze a path. She hesitated and picked up the phone.

"Brent?"

"Bailey! Wow. It's great to hear your voice. Are you back in the States now?"

"Hi. Yes. I've been back a week or so." She could hear Brent typing in the background. Multi-tasking was so much a part of his personality that she didn't think he could do anything without doing everything at once.

"And you're just now calling? I can see where I rank." His voice was teasing, but from experience she knew he meant the bite behind the remark. Their relationship had always been marked with that same passive-aggressive attention.

"Yes. Sorry. My aunt passed away unexpectedly so I returned a little early, and I've been pretty busy." Why was she defending herself? They'd broken up ages ago. Old habits died hard, she supposed.

"I'm sorry. Shoot. I really am sorry. First your mom, and now this." The typing stopped and he lowered his voice. "Is there anything I can do? Do you need me?" And there was the sensitive voice that had kept her going back to him time and again. Too many times. Why was she calling him now?

"No." She cleared her throat. She didn't have time to regret calling him. "Well, maybe. Can you meet me for lunch one day this week? I have some business questions that I think you can help me with."

Silence. "I can rearrange a few things and meet you today. I'm heading out of town tomorrow. I really would love to see you."

"Always the jet-setter," Bailey teased, though she knew that was why their relationship had lasted as long as it did. They only saw each other part time. "That'll work for me. How about The Tea Room at twelve? That should be close enough to your office."

"Sounds good. See you in a bit."

Bailey hurried into the shower and got ready to head downtown for lunch. The traffic in Boston during this time of day would be a struggle, and she knew that getting a cab just before lunch would be iffy. She was just as likely to have to walk.

As luck would have it, she only had to walk four blocks before she found a free taxi. Clutching her folder of research, she paid the driver and hurried into the quaint corner bistro to wait for Brent. He would be late. He was always apologetically late.

Knowing both of their orders, Bailey claimed a table for two and gave the waitress their selections. She was determined not to waste any of Brent's precious time, especially if he was heading away on business the next day. Bailey propped her chin on her hand and wondered at the emotion she was feeling. Was she making a mistake allowing him into her life again? A tiny part of her held affection for him, though it was just as likely because he was the last person in her life that she knew cared about her, even if it was a twisted and strangled sort of affection.

For all that they'd been dating on and off for years, there was very little emotional baggage between them. They knew each other's likes and dislikes, each other's schedules and backgrounds. But real, deep down feelings? That was something they'd really never discussed. She suspected his feelings for her were stronger than hers for him. After all, she'd been the one to walk away, something he hadn't accepted at the time.

She gazed out the window at the people passing on the sidewalk outside. Had she loved him? She shook her head even though she was alone. Definitely not. What was love anyway? Neither her mother nor her aunt had kept a man in their lives long enough for Bailey to recognize what it looked like. But, whatever she and Brent had didn't fit her definition of love.

Brent arrived fifteen minutes late with his usual harried attitude.

"Hard to get away?" she asked, arranging his silverware from across the table. The waitress delivered their drinks with a quick smile of greeting at Brent.

"It's always hard to get away. But, yes, I had to move a meeting so naturally the chair wanted to drop in and talk through the topic, you know, before I leave." Brent sighed and lifted his soda. After a quick drink and an even quicker glance around the room he focused on Bailey. "So, what's going on? You said you had business questions."

Bailey studied him for a moment, still thinking about love. His tone was direct. Not quite impatient, but maybe, yeah, disrupted. Maybe he'd gotten over his hurt feelings. Blinking once to redirect her thoughts, she pulled out her folder and got to business. "I'm thinking of opening a restaurant and I have some marketing questions for you."

Brent sat back as the waitress delivered their soups and salads, the look he was giving her slightly incredulous mixed with a heavy dose of patronizing. A dangerous combination for an only child like Bailey, who'd been raised to believe she could do anything in life.

"You finished school two weeks ago and you're ready to open a restaurant?" He seemed to read her defiant expression and retreated, his voice softening to something more intimate. "That's pretty ambitious, Bay. There's a lot to consider in starting a business. You'll need strong financial backing, a visible location, a product--a guaranteed product, not to mention all the legal work that needs to be done. That's a lot to bite off right out of the gate."

She snapped her folder closed and looked at Brent. "Let's say I already have the financial resources and the legal stuff all worked out. How could I tell if a location will bring in the right business? How can I know that my idea, my cuisine, will work?"

Brent stared at her for a moment. She could nearly see the cogs working in his brain. "What's your idea?"

Bailey considered lying to him to get his perspective without tipping her hand. He was, after all, a marketing director, but decided to be completely candid. Along with her best friends Cady and Rebecca, he was now one of a small group of people that knew her best, and she knew that he would be honest with her. "I'd like to open a restaurant that serves international dishes." He started to speak, but she held up a hand. "But not all at once. I want to do something like serve English Pub cuisine on Sundays, Italian on Fridays, Chinese on Thursdays, that sort of thing. Like a theme night."

Brent sat back and considered this. To his credit he didn't immediately laugh or discredit her idea. His continued concentration, however, chipped at her confidence a little bit.

"What do you think?"

He pressed his lips together and glanced down at the closed folder between them. "It's not a bad idea. Quaint, which might put you out of the attention of more sophisticated dining, but clever. And it would show off all the skills you've acquired over the last few years."

Quaint. She tried not to frown, but suspected she'd failed when his expression softened. She felt a lecture coming. "Go on," she urged him. She'd invited him there to get his opinion, she might as well hear it.

He leaned forward and braced his forearms against the table, ignoring his food. "Here's what I would tell a potential client. To open a restaurant like that, you'll need to find a location where these cuisines aren't readily available. You want to stand out in the market, not turn yourself into the supermarket of restaurants."

"You need a location where the patrons can support you full time, and where you would be bringing them something that adds to their lives. Most of all, you need to be fabulous." With a hint at the old feelings between them, he added softly, "I think you'll have no trouble being fabulous."

"Thank you." Bailey stayed hunched over her soup, not sure if she could swallow it down with her insides churning.

Brent leaned in and lowered his voice. "Are you sure you want to do this, Bay? It's a big risk. It's an even bigger expense, and you'll have to start from the ground up."

Bailey nodded, she could feel the doubt creeping in, but tried to hold it at bay for the sake of her pride. The word alone was floating around in her mind like a balloon losing its helium. "I'll be fine." She tried for a smile. "Trust me, this will turn out great."

Brent started to speak when his cell dinged a message. He read the message and hurried to gather his coat. "Damn, I've got to go. Listen, don't make any big decisions. You've gone through a lot recently, and I think you need some time to really think this through." His phone dinged again. "Just, please listen, okay? I'll call you later and we'll work on this together. I can help you." He gave a little wave as he hurried out the door. He'd stuck her with his bill.

Bailey sat back and sipped her tea as she watched him through the window. He thought she would fail. The same way most new business owners failed. But he'd given her some valid points to think about, and she could at least promise that she would consider his advice.