A heavy silence fell over the room. Eliza didn’t dare allow any opportunity for more questions she couldn’t answer.
“Mr. Archer sent word to the stage company about my inn.” It was as good a change of topic as she could manage. “If they agree to make it an end-of-the-day stop, we’ll be able to start building.”
“How soon is that likely to be?” Cecily asked.
The group apparently accepted the new subject.
Eliza looked to Katie. “Do you know?”
“Joseph expects to hear from them within a week or two.”
A week or two.So close.
“I heard talk of your inn at thecéilí,” Mrs. O’Connor said. “Word of your project has spread.”
“And are people excited?” Eliza asked.
“The feeling is mixed.”
Eliza’s heart dropped. She’d fully expected enthusiasm.
“What has the town concerned?” Katie asked.
“Having an inn would change Hope Springs,” Mrs. O’Connor said. “The worry ishowit might change.” She returned to stirring a pot on the stove. “Our valley has always been quiet and private. If stage passengers begin staying here, it won’t be so hidden. That worries people.”
“The place we want to build on is out by the existing stage road,” Eliza said. “The town and valley can’t be seen from there; the hill hides it.”
That seemed to reassure the room. The O’Connors, apparently, had shared some of their neighbors’ concerns.
“Would the stage passengers and drivers come into town often, do you suppose?” Ciara asked. “Having strangers wandering in and out all the time would be a bit uncomfortable.”
“I can’t say that none would ever venture over the hill,” Eliza said. “But they’d have no need to.”
“What if they’re in need of something at the mercantile or from the blacksmith?” Biddy asked.
Eliza didn’t have an answer for that.
“A great many roadside accommodations, especially out west, are taverns and saloons,” Mrs. O’Connor said. “There’s a lot of worry about that.” But she was quick to add, “I can’t imagine you’d run a questionable establishment, of course, but we’ve not had much liquor here in Hope Springs. Having it so easily bought and drunk would—couldlead to trouble.”
Here was another complication Eliza hadn’t considered.
The Charred Oak had always served beer and ale, though never anything stronger. Not doing the same hadn’t occurred to her.
If doing so would turn the town against her inn, then perhaps hers should be a dry establishment. On the other hand, travelers and drivers would most certainly expect that option. Disappointing them wasn’t good business; travelers mightn’t stay at her inn at all.
But if the town resented her inn . . .
She had to come up with a solution. She knew all too well the devastating impact of resentment—what it did to people and connections—and she couldn’t bear to be a source of regret in the lives of people she cared about.
Not again.
