The Inn at Rose Harbor

by Debbie Macomber

“I hope so, too.” She offered him a gentle smile.

  Josh had a hard time looking away. She really was a beautiful woman. She’d always been beautiful, both inside and out, but he’d been too blind to see it. Everyone had.

  She set her mug in the sink and seemed uncomfortable under his gaze.

  The atmosphere had gotten a bit thick so Josh filled the silence with words. “And I really appreciate how you and your parents have been keeping tabs on Richard. You were always good neighbors.” He recalled how Michelle’s mother had brought over meals when his own mother was so desperately sick.

  Michelle lowered her gaze. “Richard and my mother had a falling out a few months back. When she took a meal over to him, she found him on the floor and dialed nine-one-one. Richard got upset and ordered her out of the house and told her not to come back.”

  Foolish man. But that sounded just like Richard.

  “Your father’s been checking on him then?” Josh asked.

  “No. The only one he’ll allow in the house is me.”

  In response Josh shook his head and did his best to hold back a smile. Apparently his stepfather wasn’t immune to a pretty face.

  “I think it all goes back to my high school crush on Dylan. Seeing me makes it easier for him to deal with his loss somehow. I don’t know why, but mostly he’s pleased when I stop by.”

  “Does Brooke ever come around?”

  She snickered softly. “Never. She didn’t even attend Dylan’s funeral. From what I heard she spent the day getting drunk, crying in her beer.”

  “Is she still around town?”

  “Don’t know,” Michelle murmured. “I don’t really care to know.”

  Josh didn’t really care either. “Richard’s gotten all the more difficult, hasn’t he?”

  She didn’t bother to hide the truth. “I’m afraid so.”

  While Richard wouldn’t appreciate it, Josh felt he had to ask. “Is there anything I can do for him?”

  Michelle mulled this over, briefly nibbling on her lower lip. “I … don’t think he’d accept help from you.”

  Josh figured as much. Having her say what he already suspected did little to cut the disappointment. Despite their negative history, he did want to help the older man.

  “Have you spoken with his doctor?” he asked.

  “Some. I’ve tried to phone a couple of times. Like I said earlier, Richard shouldn’t be living by himself, but he insists that if he’s going to die, he wants to be in his own bed.”

  “Thank you for being such a good friend to him,” Josh said, and he meant it.

  “I would have done it for Dylan …”

  “You loved him, didn’t you?”

  She hesitated. “At one time perhaps, but you didn’t let me finish.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I did it for Dylan … and for you.”

  Chapter 7

  I was busy cleaning up in the kitchen when the doorbell rang. Setting aside the dish towel, I walked toward the front door. On my doorstep, smiling at me, was a striking woman with salt-and-pepper hair. She was dressed in a raincoat and a bandanna and she was holding a tray of what looked like muffins.

  “Hello, I’m Peggy Beldon.”

  Beldon, Beldon. The name rang a vaguely familiar bell.

  “I believe the Frelingers might have mentioned that I would be stopping by. Sandy called and asked if I had time to chat with you about the bed-and-breakfast.”

  “Oh, of course.” That was where I’d heard her name. The Frelingers had mentioned that they’d asked their friend and fellow B&B owner to stop by to answer any questions I might have about the business. They’d been eager to start their new life, but didn’t want to leave me without support. I appreciated their thoughtfulness.

  “Please, come inside,” I said, and opened the door for the other woman. It’d started to rain again, which certainly wasn’t uncommon for this time of year.

  “I brought you some freshly baked blueberry muffins. The berries are from my own bushes. I had to fight the deer for them last summer but I managed to get enough to freeze.” She pulled off her bandanna and stuffed it in her pocket, and then removed her coat. “My husband and I own Thyme and Tide on Cranberry Point.”

  “Welcome,” I said.

  “I meant to phone before I came, but I was headed this way anyway, so I thought I’d just drop by. My husband is getting his teeth cleaned and the dentist is just around the corner from here. I hope it’s not an inconvenient time?”

  “Not at all. In fact, it couldn’t be more perfect. I was just about to take a break.” I brought her into the kitchen and set about assembling a pot of tea. “I’m still bumbling around a bit.” Up until now, I’d been acting on instinct, and I welcomed the opportunity to speak to someone with more experience. I was sure there were tricks of the trade I needed to learn.

  My mother was a wonderful hostess and I’d inherited her knack of making people feel at home. I figured running a bed-and-breakfast couldn’t really be that much different from having overnight guests.

  Could it?

  I poured the tea and brought out a plate for the muffins. I’d served my two guests breakfast, but I hadn’t taken time to have anything myself beyond a glass of orange juice. Breakfast was my least favorite meal of the day, and I was usually satisfied with a latte or juice. By ten-thirty, however, my stomach had started to growl.

  Peggy blew into the teacup, trying to cool the steaming liquid. Her elbows rested comfortably on the tabletop. “So, how are you settling in?”

  “Everything seems to be going well thus far, but it’s only been a few days.”

  “Good. I hope you don’t mind if I make a few suggestions.”

  “Oh, of course. You’re the one with the experience.” I settled back in my chair with my tea, savoring the ginger-mint scent, and reached for a blueberry muffin.

  “Have you gotten your food handler’s license yet?” Peggy asked me.

  I was ashamed to admit I hadn’t. “Not yet, but I plan to soon.”

  “The sooner, the better,” Peggy urged. “It doesn’t take as much time as you’d think and you can take the training that’s offered online easily enough.”

  That was welcome news. I’d had it on my to-do list to research the options, but I hadn’t gotten there yet. With so much to do, it’d been easy enough to put that off.

  I could see that Peggy had a lot to offer in the way of experience, and I didn’t want to rely on my memory. “Excuse me for just a moment, I want to take notes.”

  “Oh, sure.”

  I scooted out of my chair and went into my office, where I collected a small yellow tablet and a pen.

  Peggy waited until I’d settled back down before she spoke again. I noticed that she’d helped herself to a muffin while I was away. I took a bite of my own and it was delicious.

  “I understand you’re new to the area,” she said as she peeled away the paper wrapper from the muffin.

  “To Cedar Cove, yes, but not to Puget Sound.”

  “That will help.”

  “Oh?” I asked.

  “It’s important to familiarize yourself with Cedar Cove. Bob and I grew up here, and although we’d been away for several years we thought we knew this town. We did, but not as well as we should have. You need to view it through the eyes of your guests.”

  I licked crumbs from my fingertips. The muffin was still warm in the center. “I’m not entirely sure I know what you mean … through the eyes of my guests?”

  “Take the time to become acquainted with local businesses and the area’s attractions. Visit the Chamber of Commerce or, better yet, join yourself. We have a Visitors Center, too. Get to know the local restaurants and make a binder with their menus. That will give your guests options when they need a recommendation. Bob and I had small maps made so our guests will have an idea of where they are in town.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea.” Reaching for my pen, I made a note on the pad.

  “Find out wha
t you can about local events, too,” Peggy advised. “We discovered that our guests thoroughly enjoyed Concerts on the Cove last summer. They take place every Thursday night at six. Various entertainment groups are brought in and are paid for through donations from local businesses. You’d be amazed at the talent and the variety. People bring lawn chairs because the seating fills up so quickly. And a lot of families take picnic baskets as well.”

  “That does sound like fun.”

  “It is and it’s a good way to meet your neighbors. We all tend to get busy and isolated. Because Bob and I live out on the Point, we don’t have close neighbors, and I miss that.”

  Being in town, then, was a bonus for me. “I haven’t had the chance to meet anyone just yet.”

  “You will,” Peggy assured me. “Sandy and John were such a wonderful couple and they were much loved in town. I’m sure they spread the word that you’d be taking over for them. People will want to meet you.

  “Why don’t you host an Open House?” she suggested all of a sudden. She sat up straighter. “Really, you should. That would give the neighbors an opportunity to meet you and for you to meet them.”

  “Well, yes, that does sound like a fun idea, but there are a few things I’d like to take care of first.”

  “Of course. Anything I can help with?”

  My head was spinning with ideas and a list of items I wanted to accomplish. “Well, for one, I’ve changed the name of the Inn.”

  She nodded as if that was understood. “That will mean a few expenses but it’ll make it your own.”

  I understood a name change would mean having new brochures, business cards, and stationary printed and that sort of thing, but I’d never feel that the B&B was completely mine until I renamed it. “I’ve decided to call it Rose Harbor Inn.”

  “Rose Harbor Inn,” Peggy repeated and frowned slightly.

  “You don’t like it?”

  Peggy set her teacup on the saucer. “It’s not that—I think it’s a perfectly lovely name, but Sandy doesn’t have any rosebushes.”

  “I noticed. Rose is my surname. I’ve started a to-do list and I plan on planting a big rose garden, one with an arbor and a bench where my guests can sit. Some of my favorite roses are the antique ones … I have access to several plants and their scent is incredible.” I knew I was chatting on, giving her far more information than necessary, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.

  “You’ll need a new sign and those can be pricey; you should know that up front.”

  I’d already looked into having a sign made and been shocked at the cost.

  “Have you thought about hiring a handyman?” Peggy asked.

  “Not yet …” I’d known that eventually I’d need one, but hadn’t started looking just yet.

  “Let me give you the name of a reliable man. Bob does a good portion of the work around Thyme and Tide, so we’ve only needed Mark on rare occasions. Mark does woodwork as well. I’m sure he could give you a competitive bid for a new sign.”

  I reached for my pen once more.

  “His name is Mark Taylor. You’ll like him … but,” she hesitated.

  “But?” I prodded.

  “He can be a little prickly at times. Rest assured his bark is worse than his bite. He moved into town a few years back, but no one seems to know that much about him. While he might not be Mr. Personality, he does good work at a fair price.”

  Well, I mused, all I needed in a handyman is a skill with tools. I didn’t care if he was a conversationalist or not.

  “I have his phone number in my cell phone contacts.” Peggy reached for her purse and rummaged through it until she retrieved her mobile phone. Pushing a few buttons, she gave me his number. I’d give “Mr. Personality” a call later and perhaps arrange a meeting so he wouldn’t be an unknown quantity when an emergency arose.

  Peggy reached for her tea again and I did, too. It had finally cooled and I sipped the comforting brew.

  “Anything else I should know?” I asked.

  Peggy thumped her fingers against the tabletop as she considered my question. “Do you have a marketing plan?”

  I did, and we briefly discussed my ideas. She seemed to approve and I smiled at the way she had assumed a big sister role already, even with a touch of well-meaning bossiness.

  “You’ll soon discover that word of mouth is important. You’d be surprised by how much damage one dissatisfied guest can do. I have the name of a great website designer if you need one. Don’t overspend on this when you don’t need to, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Peggy relaxed against the chair. “Sorry, I get a bit opinionated at times. Just ask my husband.”

  I didn’t take offense. I’d already seen to that and had in fact been working closely with a web designer almost from the day I’d signed the final papers. At least that was one thing I’d accomplished. I was determined to make this venture successful, and yet I wasn’t going to let her make me feel overly anxious.

  “There are national, state, and local B and B associations. Join them.”

  “Do you belong?” I asked.

  “We do. My husband and I have been active on the local and state level. I’ll let you know when the next meeting takes place; I’ll bring you myself.”

  “Thank you, I’d appreciate that.”

  “My pleasure,” Peggy said. “One last thing.”

  “Yes?”

  “How comfortable are you around computers?”

  “Very.”

  “Good. Get familiar with your software programs. You’re going to need them for accounting and for record-keeping purposes. There’s a wonderful program Bob found for taking reservations. I’ll get the name of it for you.”

  “Perfect. That would be great.” I thought about the Frelingers’ reservation book and agreed that I could probably afford to be brought into the twenty-first century.

  “There’s also some excellent software available for property management.”

  I took a deep breath and renewed my vow not to panic at the to-do list. One step at a time.

  Peggy finished the last of her tea and then checked her watch. “Bob should be finished by now, so I’d best get back to the dentist’s office. It was a real pleasure to meet you, Jo Marie.”

  “You, too.” I resisted the urge to hug her. Although the visit had been quick, I felt as if Peggy and I had been friends for a long while. Her take-charge manner was comforting, and it made me smile. “Thank you for the muffins, too.”

  “I’ll pass along the recipe if you’d like.” She reached for her coat and then started for the front door.

  “I would love the recipe,” I said, trailing along after her. I was convinced my guests would enjoy these wonderfully flavorful muffins. Then again Peggy might not take kindly to me sharing her special recipe with my own guests.

  As if she read my mind, Peggy grinned. “Not to worry, I’ve handed this recipe out all over town. The secret, at least in my opinion, is the home-grown blueberries. That’s one of the reasons I’m willing to fight off the deer every summer. Deer might be lovely creatures, but they can be real nuisances.”

  I hadn’t seen a live deer in more years than I could remember—not since I’d been a teenager. I’d thought they were magical creatures when they appeared at dawn or dusk. It surprised me that people who lived outside the city thought of them as pests.

  “By the way, you might want to do something to protect your roses, once your garden is planted. Roses happen to be one of deer’s favorite eats.”

  “Deer venture into town?”

  “They do. They’re more prevalent outside the city, but it certainly isn’t unusual for them to make their way from one backyard to another, munching on everything in sight.”

  I’d find a way to protect the roses. This garden was too important for me to willingly hand it over to the area wildlife.

  Peggy slipped her arms into her coat. “Be sure and give Mark a call. He’s always busy, so it would be a good idea to giv
e him a heads-up about the sign. I know he’ll do a good job. Just don’t be offended if he barks at you.”

  “Okay, I won’t.” I held open the front door for her.

  I watched as Peggy quickly walked to where she’d parked her vehicle. Our visit had lasted less than thirty minutes, but I felt as if I’d gotten a year’s worth of information and advice. I planned to put everything into action as quickly as possible.

  Energized by Peggy’s visit, I headed back into the house and, reaching for the phone, punched in the number for Mark Taylor, the handyman she’d recommended.

  He answered on the fourth ring, just before the phone switched over to voice mail. “Yeah, what is it?” he demanded breathlessly, as if he’d rushed to get to the receiver in time.

  “Oh hi,” I said, “my name is Jo Marie Rose.”

  “Who?”

  “Jo Marie Rose. I’m new in town,” I babbled nervously. “Peggy Beldon gave me your name.”

  “What do you need?” he asked with more than a hint of impatience.

  “Well, as it happens, I need help with a number of projects.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Excuse me?” The man certainly didn’t lack for nerve.

  “Your age,” he repeated. “Frankly, you sound like you’re still in high school.”

  “Well, I’m not and what should that matter anyway?” I got the distinct feeling that I wasn’t going to like this man. He was far too brusque to suit me, but then again Peggy had warned me.

  “Your age will tell me how far down to put you on the list.”

  I grew more agitated by the moment. “I don’t think my age is any of your business.”

  “Okay, fine, don’t tell me.”

  “I have no intention of doing so.”

  I heard him mutter under his breath, “Would you like me to guess?”

  “No, what I’d like is an estimate for a new sign for the B and B I recently purchased from the Frelingers.”

  “When do you need it?”

  “The estimate or the sign?”

  “Both.”

  “As soon as possible.” I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to work with this man. “Have you done work for the Frelingers before?”