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“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him yet. I wanted to check with you first. But he hasn’t done anything with that piece since I left here over a decade ago, so I don’t think he’s in any hurry.”

She scrunched up her nose. “You really think a couple of golf holes will attract new guests?”

“I do,” he said. “All other things being equal, I believe most men would rather stay in a motel that has a place to practice golf. Maybe even some women.”

“How much would it cost to build?”

“Not much. Not if I did it myself and used artificial turf.”

She shrugged. “Then I guess it’d be worth a try.”

“Golf has really caught on with men my age,” he said to shore up her conviction. “Men of every age.”

“At least we won’t lose much if it doesn’t work.”

“I plan to make it work,” he said, and they finally went on to talk about the budget—how they could cut expenses to pay for some of his initiatives if he took over caring for the grounds and pool as well as repairs and maintenance of the inn itself.

Fortunately, the subject of Patience didn’t come up again. But when he went back to his room that night and created the ads that included the cookie, he kept returning to that selfie of her in the Santa hat—and even though he told himself he shouldn’t, he eventually caved in and saved it to his phone.

Chapter Fourteen

Patience didn’t go back to the church to work; she stayed at the coffee shop. She didn’t want to hear any more from her father about what she should or shouldn’t do. She’d lived and worked with Carl long enough to know how chilly things could get when he was upset with her. Usually, he gave her the silent treatment until she broke down and apologized or tried to get past the argument. She was always the one to make up with him because it wasn’t worth holding out; they spent too much time together.

But today she couldn’t make herself bend the knee.

At three, she was packing up her computer so she could get Ari from school when Jack texted her. Hey, would you mind if I picked up the princess today? It’d be nice to have a little father/daughter time.

Patience grimaced. He’d already had time with Ari this week. But she didn’t want to be ungenerous, especially now that she knew what he was going through. They’d become very flexible with custody arrangements because that benefitted them both.

With a sigh, she texted him back: You don’t have to work?

Took the day off.

That was unusual. He was a workaholic. Something special going on?

Just packing up Glenda’s things.

You’re not going to let her do that?

I don’t want her to come back here.

“Wow,” Patience muttered. That was harsh; apparently, the divorce was really happening. Have you talked to her?

She’s texted a few times.

Patience couldn’t help wondering if Glenda had been trying to reconcile, but she wasn’t going to be nosy enough to ask. It was none of her business. Sure, you can get our girl. But don’t keep her out too late. She has a big science test coming up—needs to study.

I’ll get her home in plenty of time.

Assuming that was the end of the conversation, she was about to put her phone back in her purse when she heard another ding.

She closed her eyes for a second before looking at it, listening to the espresso machine hiss behind the counter. She was still tired enough to feel everything twice as sharply as usual.

With a sigh, she forced her eyelids open so she could focus on the new message.

We’re going to work on volleyball for a bit, give her some practice. Then I’m going to take her to dinner. Why don’t you join us at the restaurant? It’s been a long time since the three of us had a meal together.

The three of them. They could have dinner without Glenda for the first time in five years, Patience realized. That alone tempted her to accept. So did the fact that she was reluctant to go home and cook for her father like she did every other night.