by Andrea Hurst
Madrona Island B&B
Andrea Hurst
Contents
A Note From the Author
Fall on Madrona Island
Also by Andrea Hurst
Excerpt of The Guestbook
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Recipes
About The Author
Acknowledgments
A Note From the Author
Welcome to Madrona Island, with all of its warmth and beauty. This novelette is the prequel for the bestselling GUESTBOOK series. Whether you are new to the series or have read all three, this Kindle Short prequel will take you back to Maggie’s inn, where she is welcoming her overnight guests, and introduce you to Grandpa John, her neighbor and true love. Don’t miss the recipes in the back of this and all of the books in the series!
“Evocative and heartfelt, The Guestbook is the profound story of one woman's journey toward hope, renewal and a second chance at love on a lush Pacific Northwest island. Curl up with your favorite cup of cocoa and enjoy.”
~Anjali Banerjee, author of Imaginary Men and Haunting Jasmine
© 2017 Andrea Hurst
All rights reserved.
First edition printed May 2017
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the author, except in the context of reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are a product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously.
ASIN:
Cover Design: Lidia Vilamajo and Rebecca Berus
Copy Editors/Proof Readers: Audrey Mackaman & Cameron Chandler
Developmental Editor: Cate Perry
Marketing: 2MarketBooks [email protected]
My great hope is to laugh as much as I cry:
to get my work done
and to try to love somebody and have the courage to accept the love in return.
-- Maya Angelou --
Fall on Madrona Island
Maggie gathered up the fallen daisies scattered throughout her garden and placed them in her basket. She cut a few sprigs of rosemary and added them to her bundles. The mixture of herbs and flowers in little glass vases had always worked well for placing on the breakfast trays in the morning for her guests. Tomorrow, her last visitors at Madrona Island Bed & Breakfast would arrive. It would be a bittersweet Labor Day weekend for her, welcoming some of her favorite guests from the past years for a closing celebration. Not long ago, she’d made the decision, and it had not been an easy one. Between her own aching bones and continuing fatigue, the B&B was becoming too much for her to handle. And she’d wanted to spend whatever quality time she had left with John, traveling, sitting by the fire, or just watching the sunset together.
She admired her pale yellow turn-of-the-century inn, the white trim glistening in the sun. The deep purple climbing roses still bloomed over the arbor, creating a fairytale feel to the entry. The view of the Pugent Sound and Olympic mountains never failed to make her smile.
With a sigh, Maggie picked up the woven basket and walked up the garden path back to her home. Her neighbor, Shirley, was heading her way with a luscious-looking homemade pie in her hands.
Shirley, perfectly coiffed and in a pastel pantsuit, waved. “Good afternoon. How about some fresh cherry pie and a cup of tea?”
Dizziness washed over Maggie. She dropped her basket of flowers to the ground and reached for a tree to steady herself.
Shirley rushed to her side. “Are you all right, honey?”
Maggie processed the word. All right. No, she certainly wasn’t. She’d been in remission for five amazing years, but yesterday she’d found out the devastating news; the cancer was back and had spread to both of her lungs. No one knew yet. Not even her beloved, John.
“I think I need to lie down,” Maggie said. She bent to pick up the flowers, but everything started to spin again.
“Leave it be,” Shirley said. “I’ll come back for it.”
They made their way up the porch stairs and into the sitting area in the cozy parlor. Maggie lay back on the fainting couch under the front window and took a deep breath. Shirley’s concerned face reminded her of what she needed to do.
“The cancer is back,” Maggie whispered.
Shirley gasped. “Oh no, I’m so sorry. More treatment?”
“Not this time,” Maggie said. “The doctor told me it was time to get my affairs in order. I want my last weeks to be comfortable.”
Shirley nodded. “I understand. And they will be. Does anyone else know?”
“I just found out yesterday and I haven’t told anyone yet,” Maggie said. “If I can just get through this last weekend before the inn closes…”
“And you will,” Shirley said. “I’ll rally the troops and you will have all the help you need.”
Maggie’s heart broke. “I don’t know how to tell John.” She gazed out the window at her rolling green lawn that dipped down to the sandy shore of Puget Sound. The water sparkled in the afternoon sun, deep blue against the snow-topped peaks of the Olympic Mountains in the distance. She and John had walked that beach, hand in hand, so many times. His farmhouse field bordered her drive, and they’d known each other for years. He was truly the love of her life.
“I understand,” Shirley said. “After he lost his wife, none of us thought he’d make it through the grief. And then the two of you found each other. It even gave an old eighty-year-old lady like me hope.”
Maggie smiled. “You’re only a few years older than me. Love may be just around the corner for you.”
“You never know.” Shirley shrugged. “Now seriously, when are you going to tell John? I don’t want to spring into action to help without him knowing first.”
The knock at the front screen door startled Maggie.
“Anyone home?” John said.
Maggie stared at Shirley. It was time. “Come on in, John. We’re in the parlor.”
Shirley rose to greet him. “I was just leaving,” she said.
A wide smile spread across John’s face, lighting up his blue eyes. “Don’t go leaving because of me.”
“I’ll just put the pie in the kitchen,” Shirley said. “Call if you need me. I’ll be back soon with reinforcements.”
John, followed by his black lab, Gretel, took the chair beside Maggie and took her hand. “Resting up before the big weekend?”
Maggie smiled. If only that was the simple reason she was so tired. “It will be the last weekend of guests and I want it to be extra special.”
“With you, it always is,” John said.
Gretel sat up and lifted her paw to Maggie. “Okay, girl,” she said. She pointed to a jar on the mantel. “There are some fresh dog treats I made this morning for Gretel.”
John stood, and the minute he lifted the glass lid, Gretel leapt up and took a sit–and-stay position in front of him. “Good girl,” John said. He petted her head before slipping her a few goodies. “She sure loves these.”
Maggie smiled at him and patted the chair beside her.
He settled in the chair, reached over, and took Maggie’s hand in his. “Now, how can I help?”
She hesitated and fought back the tears already spilling from her eyes. If only she could prevent John from losing another woman he loved. But the doctor had said there were probably only a few months’ time left at most. And her breathing was already so labored.
John’s face paled. “What’s wrong, Maggie girl?”
“It’s back,” she said, watching his face.
At first he looked confused. Then the
full impact of what she had said registered. “The cancer?”
Maggie nodded. “It’s bad, John, and…” She couldn’t bring herself to say the words.
He shut his eyes and let out a long breath. “Whatever you need, I’m here.”
Her tears came in earnest then. John moved beside her, took her in his arms, and held her tight. She wished this moment would last forever.
⌘
John walked back slowly across the field that separated his home from Maggie’s B&B. Gretel ran ahead, a bag of fresh-baked dog treats from Maggie hanging out of her mouth. She bounded up the steps to the back door, waiting to be let in. She looked up at him, her brown eyes soft and dewy. “You’ll miss her too,” John whispered.
Once in the kitchen, John poured himself the last cup of lukewarm coffee from the pot and took a seat at the table. His mind whirled with the new information Maggie had revealed today. When she’d told him she was closing the B&B and did not have the energy for it anymore, he’d assumed it was just aging. They could share retirement together, perhaps some travel. But all his plans fell to pieces as the impact of how little time she had left bulldozed over him. What would he do without her? Could he go through this again and come out the other side?
The ringing of his phone startled him and he hurried to answer it. At the sound of Shirley’s voice he was alert again. “Of course,” he said. “Just get me a list and I will make sure it gets done. My grandson, Ian, will be here this weekend and I’m sure he’ll help out.” John took a deep breath. “And thanks,” he stumbled on his words, “for organizing all of this.”
Shirley filled him in on the plans she and her sister, Betty, were already putting into place. Their niece, Mary, who helped with the running of the B&B, was taking on extra duties. They’d called Jude, the owner of Island Thyme Café in town, to let her know too. Each of them had a job—to help Maggie through the weekend guests.
John dumped the bitter coffee into the sink. In another hour Ian would be arriving with his young son, Jason. John hated to tell them about Maggie. They loved her too. Everyone did. And Ian was finally beginning to get over his grief of losing his own wife a few years back. Life could be very unkind sometimes. His gaze drifted out the window, across the golden field, to Maggie’s inn. Memories flashed through his mind. The two of them together, laughing over a meal, strolling on the beach, or just sitting on her front porch swing, hand in hand, watching the sunset. Love could be beautiful too. Perhaps you could not have one without accepting the inevitability of the other?
⌘
The tantalizing smell of hot, baking chocolate filled the kitchen. Maggie took the last batch of her famous brownies out of the oven and placed the pan on the blue tile counter.
“Let me help with that,” her assistant, Mary, said.
“I’m fine, really I am. You go ahead and see what else needs to be done.”
Mary hurried off to finish any last minute details. Check-in time was 3:00 p.m., and that left only another hour for Maggie to get cleaned up and ready to greet her guests. Mary had all the rooms sparkling and filled with flowers. Jude was bringing over her special bacon and thyme quiches for Maggie to serve for breakfast, and Shirley had baked enough strawberry scones to feed the whole island. Local island coffee and iced lavender lemon tea and brownies would be served for Afternoon Tea in the parlor.
Maggie took a seat at the oak table in the kitchen. She could almost fall asleep and was running on adrenaline, but nothing was going to make her miss this last weekend. Her inn had been voted the best in the Pacific Northwest several times, and guests had traveled from all over the world to enjoy her famed hospitality and comfort food. She loved her country kitchen, with its white, glass-doored cabinets and curtained windows facing the garden. Her refrigerator overflowed with casseroles neighbors had brought, farm fresh eggs, and vegetables, all of which would last her and John a long time after the guests left. She’d worked so hard to make all of this happen and hadn’t let being a widow slow her down. The B&B had been her dream for years, and it had come true beyond her wildest imagination. But her son, Jerold, had been the hardest challenge to face. And losing Lily.
She’d been so happy when Jerold married Katherine. And then golden-haired Lily was born, and a more precious grandchild did not exist. They’d been so close. Lazy afternoons were spent baking cookies here in this kitchen together. They hunted seashells along the beaches and laid in the damp grass on summer nights and watched for shooting stars. Then Jerold abandoned them for another woman and treated Katherine abominably. Maggie had tried to keep the family together. If only she could go back and do it differently. Lily’s mother, Katherine, had taken the child as far away from Madrona Island as she could get and told Maggie she was starting over and not to try to find them. Her heart broke thinking of this again. So many years had gone by, and she had respected Katherine’s wishes. Now, Maggie didn’t have any years left—two months at the most. It was time to do right by Lily.
⌘
“Show time,” Shirley said as she hustled through the front screen door, letting it slam behind her. Her sister, Betty, followed close behind.
Maggie took a deep breath and steadied herself before greeting them with a big group hug.
“Love you,” Shirley whispered in her ear. “You lean on me all you need.”
“I’m the stronger one,” Betty said, frowning at her sister. “You could knock Shirley over with a good wind.”
Maggie’s laugh filled the air. “You two, what would I do without you both?” A wave of dizziness caused her to sway.
Betty braced Maggie with her shoulder. “Enough of the sentimental stuff for now. We have work to do.”
Shirley huffed, straightened her back, and headed for the kitchen, where she would be in charge. Maggie had nothing left to do but greet her guests and enjoy the day. The sound of cars coming down the gravel drive signaled Maggie to take her place outside on the lawn.
“Time to go,” Betty said. “Just holler if you need me. I’ll be taking my job as bellman with Ian today. Now, where is that young man?”
Just as Maggie opened the door to leave, John’s handsome, young grandson, Ian, hurried up the porch stairs. He’d been looking a bit thin since his wife died, and Maggie always tried to fatten him up when he visited. That, and his sad eyes, always tugged at Maggie’s heart.
“I hope I’m not late,” he said. “The ferry line was backed up for miles with holiday traffic.”
“So glad you are here,” Maggie said.
Betty nodded toward the door. “You go ahead. We’ve got luggage handled.”
The afternoon sun spilled over the lawn, lighting up picnic tables covered with gingham tablecloths and hand-woven baskets of fruit. Mason jars filled with flowers acted as centerpieces. Local guests sat talking with friends and sipping their drinks. A familiar song from a local guitarist drifted over from under the Madrona tree. The long line of buffet tables was full to the brim. The blue-checked tablecloth was the canvas for platters of food donated by neighbors and friends. Fruit platters, salads, and fried chicken were piled high. At the head, putting everything in place, was dear Jude from Island Thyme Café. How close they’d become over the years. Maggie could still remember when Jude had stayed at the inn a few days when her heart was breaking. They’d bonded over love, loss, and grief. And eventually the shared courage to make it through together.
Rambling down the path were her first overnight guests, a couple who had first come for their honeymoon and yearly for every anniversary since.
“Maggie,” Lorna said as she wrapped her arms around her. “I can’t believe you are closing the inn. What will we do without you?”
Her husband, James, put one arm around his wife and one around Maggie. “We have to let this lady rest sometime,” he said.
Maggie tried to control the shaking in her legs and not cry along with Lorna. “You have each other and so much more. And we certainly will keep in touch.”
“And,” James sa
id, “I assume we can still order those brownies online?”
“Of course,” Maggie said. “I’ll have it on the menu for Sunday morning. ”She knew that was probably her last attempt at this luscious favorite.
Lorna leaned in close. “I don’t suppose you’ll share that recipe now?”
Maggie frowned, a smile still peeking out. “That’s for my granddaughter to decide. I will be sharing it with only her.”
A few more guests waited on the path to greet Maggie. She waved Ian over to join them. He took their suitcases and led the couple into the house to check in. “I put you two in my favorite Rose Suite,” Maggie said. “The one with the four-poster bed.”
It took Maggie a minute to recognize her next guest. Her name was on the register, but it had been almost ten years.
“Harriet, is that you?”
Harriet took Maggie’s hands in hers. “Let me look at you,” she said. “Maggie, you’re as radiant as ever.”
Harriet had gone through the loss of a husband and several bouts of illness with her only child. The pain showed on her face. Maggie longed to comfort her. She would make sure Harriet’s stay at the inn was a restorative time for her friend.
“Thank you,” Maggie said. “I am overjoyed to see you and spend time together again. I put you in the cozy English Lavender Room with a dormer window and water view.”
“It sounds lovely,” Harriet said. The smile on her face was worth everything.
There were only four rooms in the Bed & Breakfast, and it had been hard to limit the reservations for the last weekend. The sweet couple, Cynthia and Sam, who couldn’t have children, came every summer for a stay in the Peaches & Cream room with the canopy bed and a fainting couch overlooking the garden. This year they were celebrating the adoption of their first child, which would be finalized soon.
