“This, coming from you?” She tilted her head. “How many hours do you work a day, Dr. O’Neil?”
“I don’t keep count but there are times when I think the daily average comes to more than twenty-four.”
She smiled and then she was gone, striding across the deck with a bounce in her step, remarkable given the fact she had to be running on adrenaline and not much else.
He watched as she disappeared inside the Boathouse and then turned to find his grandfather standing next to him.
Sean tensed. The past few days the atmosphere had improved, but still there had been no opportunity to bring up the issue both of them were avoiding.
“That boy has been coming here since he was three. I lent him a pair of Tyler’s old skis on the family’s first winter trip.” His grandfather watched as Brenna taught Sam to handle the kayak. “Look how he loves it. When he’s grown he’ll bring his children back here and they’ll enjoy doing the things he did as a child. It’s how things work around here.”
Here we go, Sean thought, and braced himself for the inevitable lecture about tradition and family.
Hadn’t his father had to listen to the same lecture from his cradle to his grave?
Grief punched him hard and along with the guilt came the frustration and anger.
“Maybe they’ll want to do something different as the kids get older. Maybe they’ll want to try other things or travel to—” He broke off as Sam gave a yell of delight, the boy’s laughter so infectious that Sean found himself smiling, too.
His grandfather grunted. “Maybe they will. Because I’m pretty sure he’s having a horrible time out there and he’s never going to want to do it again.”
Sean sighed. “It will be good for the business if they come back.”
“It’s not just about business. Not everything can be measured in dollars and cents. Your great-grandfather didn’t set up the resort because he wanted the money. He believed Snow Crystal was too special to keep it just for the family. It’s the air, the scenery, the local food—he thought somewhere like this should be shared and appreciated with people who felt the way he did.”
“I know the story, Gramps.”
“He loved this place. He and your great-grandmother started by letting out a few rooms. Bed-and-breakfast. Then they built the main lodge. He taught me all of it so that I’d be able to take over. By the time I was sixteen there wasn’t a single job in the place that I didn’t know how to do.” Pride rang in his voice. “By the age of eighteen I was running the place.”
It was a story they’d all heard a thousand times, gathered around the kitchen table while their mother cooked.
“What about you?” Sean turned to look at his grandfather. “Was there ever a time when you thought you might want to do something different?”
“This place was my dream.” Walter’s voice was gruff. “Living here was all I ever wanted. I knew it was a privilege. I’d been given this piece of land to tend and nurture and she was my responsibility. I used to wake up in the morning, eager to get to work. When a man feels like that, he knows he’s doing the right thing with his life.”
It was the first time Sean had ever felt he and his grandfather were speaking the same language. “That’s how I feel about being a surgeon.” He’d never tried to explain himself before and he was cautious about doing it now because he knew his grandfather had tunnel vision when it came to Snow Crystal. “People come to me broken and I do my best to fix them. Finding different ways, better ways, is what I love doing. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”
“I know. I watched you grow up. Knew you were going to be a doctor when Tyler fell out of that tree. Jackson was as white as the snow. You? You just handled it.” His grandfather watched as Sam’s kayak rocked in the water. “It’s just a shame you have to be doing the job so far away. Your brothers could use your help around here. If you were closer, you could come back more often.”
Sean felt sweat prick the back of his neck because he knew the reason he didn’t come home had nothing to do with distance. “I’m busy.” That, at least was the truth. “Working long hours.”
“Don’t know how you can bear to live in a city. Too many people and not enough space. I wouldn’t be able to stand it, having to fight for my own patch of air to breathe.” Walter waved again at Sam. “So are you going to finish in time for the party or are you still going to be fixing this place at Christmas?”
Sean glanced sideways, relieved to see his grandfather had more color. “I’ll finish in time for the party.” He could have finished days ago. Could have been back in Boston, enjoying his life, thinking only about himself instead of having to juggle a schedule that would have made a grown man cry. “I’m out of practice. Slow.”
His grandfather was still watching little Sam. “You worked so hard not to finish this damn deck your brain almost burst with the effort. But it was fun to watch. How long did it take you to undo what you’d already done?”
Sean stared at him. “You—” Shit. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I may not be a doctor, but that doesn’t make me stupid.”
Sean rubbed his hand over his jaw. “Was it that obvious?”
“I was the one who taught you to work with wood. You were good. If I’d really thought the deck was taking you that long I would have dropped you in the lake myself.”
Sean shook his head, realizing how badly he’d underestimated his grandfather. “If you knew, then why the hell didn’t you say something before now?”
“Because for once in your life you were putting something ahead of your work.”