The Inn at Rose Harbor

by Debbie Macomber

  “I’d appreciate that. One question. Did my age move me up or down the list?” I teased.

  He grinned. “Do you want me to go ahead, then, with the sign?”

  “Please,” I said, the decision made. Peggy thought highly of Mark and his work. He was local and I liked doing business with the neighboring merchants. It was good practice. I wanted to establish myself in this community, especially since I planned to live here a good long while.

  Mark removed a stubby pencil from his shirt pocket and listed my name in his little black book. “I’ll do a good job. I guarantee all my work.”

  The new business sign wasn’t the only job I had in mind. “Do you know anyone who’s willing to do yard work?” I asked. While he leaned back I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the tabletop.

  “I can.”

  He didn’t seem overly keen on the idea, though.

  “You sure?” His body language said otherwise.

  “If it’s something I’d rather not do, I’ll tell you, okay?”

  “Fair enough,” I said. “Perhaps you’d like to recommend someone else.”

  “First tell me what you want done.” Another cookie disappeared and he reached for a third.

  “A rose garden,” I explained. “I want to plant a big, beautiful, and rather elaborate rose garden.” I handed him the sketchbook I’d used and flipped it open to the appropriate page. I’m no artist, but I felt I’d done an adequate job of illustrating what I wanted done. My idea would require a large portion of the lawn to be removed. I wanted an arched entry into the garden and a stone pathway between the flowering bushes. In addition, I hoped to have benches along the pathway, and perhaps, if it wasn’t too elaborate, a gazebo. Not right away, but once I was more established. A gazebo would be perfect for special occasions, even weddings.

  Mark studied my drawings for several moments. “This is quite the rose garden.”

  “I know. It’ll be a large project.”

  He nodded. “It makes sense you wanting a rose garden planted seeing that you renamed the inn Rose Harbor Inn.”

  I agreed, but didn’t mention Paul. “Do you think this is a project that would interest you?”

  He frowned. “I don’t know that much about roses.”

  Fact was I didn’t either, but I certainly intended to learn what I could. “I’ll purchase the roses and plant them myself. I want to get as many antique rosebushes as I can find.”

  “Antique roses? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

  “They’re older, obviously, stock from before growers started cross-breeding them. The flowers tend to be smaller but they’re especially fragrant. I’d also like to plant a few hybrid bushes. I thought it would be a nice touch once the garden is complete to place a bouquet of roses in the rooms of my new guests.”

  “That would be nice; a little something extra; a welcome to Cedar Cove and your inn.”

  “So, what do you think … about the garden I mean?” I’d need to get an estimate from him regarding that as well. This would be a large project requiring lots of time and it’d be expensive.

  “I’d say I’m your man.”

  “Great.” I relaxed. “Put together an estimate and I’ll look it over.”

  “I might see about finding someone else to come in and remove the lawn and prepare the soil. And if you plant the bushes yourself it’ll cut down on the expense.”

  “I’d like an arched trellis leading into the garden, too,” I said and pointed to my drawing. “Maybe more than one … but I’ll need to get a price first.” It would be easy to go overboard on this, and I’d hoped to keep the costs down as much as possible.

  “No problem; I can build you as many as you want.”

  “What about benches? Could you build those, too, or would it be more economical for me to just buy them ready-made?”

  He mulled over the answer. “If you’re looking to save money, buy the benches, but I need to tell you that if you decide to have me build them, then I guarantee it will be as solid as they come and will last longer than anything you could purchase.”

  Again, it depended on price. “Add it to the estimate and I’ll make that decision later.”

  He nodded and reached for another cookie. The plate, however, was empty. He’d stuffed down six cookies, one after the other, with barely a pause in between. These weren’t small cookies, either. I wasn’t about to let him gobble up the entire batch so I didn’t offer to refill the plate. He was probably one of those fortunate people with a high metabolism who could eat anything they wanted and still remain as thin as a pogo stick.

  He sipped his coffee and studied me as he raised the mug to his lips. “You’re younger than I expected.”

  “Funny, I was just thinking the same about you.”

  He shrugged. “Most people assume I’m older, retired, making a little extra income on the side. Fact is I’m busy all the time. I’ve got more projects going than I can handle.”

  “Where did you work before?” I speculated that he’d been an employee at one of those big box hardware stores. From what Peggy Beldon told me, Mark knew enough about electricity, plumbing, and carpentry to build his own home, which he’d apparently done.

  “I didn’t.”

  “You’ve never had a job?” I found that hard to believe.

  “I was military.”

  That caught me by surprise. “That’s a job.” I’ve always had huge respect for the men and women of our military and the service they provided for our country, even before meeting Paul.

  “In a manner of speaking, being in the military is a job, but it’s much more than that. I had a few issues when I was discharged so I decided I preferred to be self-employed.”

  “Thank you for your service to our country,” I said simply. Whatever his issues had been, he clearly didn’t want to elaborate. That was fine by me. Everyone had issues. I certainly had my own and it seemed my two guests did, too.

  He looked away as if my appreciation made him uncomfortable.

  “What’s your story?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “Nothing special. I came into an inheritance and decided to make a career change. The idea of opening a bed-and-breakfast appealed to me and so I went for it.”

  “With no experience in this particular area?”

  “None.” I had to admit it did sound rather foolish. “I’m a quick learner and I’ve been reading everything I can get my hands on about owning and operating a bed-and-breakfast.”

  “So you’ve met Grace?”

  “Grace? No, sorry, I can’t say that I have. Who’s Grace?”

  “Grace Harding, the head librarian. You should introduce yourself. I did some work for her after her husband disappeared. I get a lot of my work from widows and single women.”

  “Her husband disappeared?”

  “That was years ago now. She’s since remarried. Harding is the name of her second husband. Good people, you’ll like Grace and Cliff.”

  “Thanks.” I’d intended to get down to the library before long.

  “At some point you’ll probably meet Grace’s best friend, too. That would be Olivia Griffin. Her husband’s the newspaper editor.”

  I doubted I’d be able to remember all these names. “Where does Olivia work?”

  “Courthouse. She’s a family court judge. Have you eaten at the Pancake Palace yet?”

  “No.” I’d been cooking, trying out new recipes I hoped to serve at the inn, so I hadn’t been to any of the restaurants in town.

  “Try their coconut cream pie when you do.”

  “I will.”

  “Best in town.”

  “Good to know.” I was rather fond of coconut cream myself. The handyman took another sip of his coffee. “I’ll have the estimate to you before the end of next week.”

  “Perfect.”

  “If you decide you want to go ahead with it, I’ll need to know when you’d like it completed so I can get it listed in my book.”

  That little black
book of his. I hadn’t researched when the best time was to plant rosebushes, but spring sounded like a good time. “March,” I told him. “Maybe April, after the last frost.”

  Mark stood, reached for his mug, and carried it over to the sink. “I’ll get those figures to you first chance I get.”

  I walked him to the foyer.

  “Have to tell you, I’ve tasted a lot of chocolate chip cookies in my day, and yours are some of the finest.”

  I blushed with his praise. “Thank you.”

  He left then, following the walkway. The parking area was empty, which meant he’d come on foot. Then I remembered that Peggy had told me he lived just a few blocks over. He was an unusual man, that was for sure. If I were to guess his age, I’d say mid-forties. And I couldn’t help but think that there was much more to him than met the eye.

  Time would tell.

  Chapter 12

  Abby checked her watch and saw that she was right on time. Her brother had asked her to meet him and his fiancée at a coffee shop—a place that had opened after she moved away. So much had changed over the years. The coffee place was in a strip mall that had been a vacant lot the last time she was in Cedar Cove.

  Abby parked in front and she immediately spotted her brother just inside the shop. He looked wonderful; happy and a bit anxious as he paced the area, waiting for her and Victoria to arrive.

  When he saw Abby, Roger swung the door open and held his arms out to her. “Abby.” He embraced her, squeezing hard. “You look … fabulous. I’m so pleased you’re here.”

  “I am, too.” And she meant it. The time she’d spent with Patty Morris—oops, Jefferies—had gone surprisingly well, and meeting up with her classmate had encouraged Abby. Maybe, just maybe, she could put the accident behind her for at least this one weekend. The wedding was supposed to be a joyous occasion. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—allow her fears to rule every waking minute. So what if someone mentioned Angela or the accident? If they did, Abby would deal with it like an adult instead of running away or hiding under a rock.

  “Victoria will be here any minute,” Roger said. “She said I should order a latte for her.”

  “I’m so looking forward to finally meeting this paragon who has managed to steal my brother’s heart.”

  “She’s anxious to meet you, too.” The siblings walked inside and out of the cold. The latte line was long. It always surprised Abby to read how popular these places were in the Pacific Northwest. She couldn’t think of a single latte stand in Florida, other than Starbucks, and in Cedar Cove there was one on practically every street corner. Coffee was hot stuff here.

  “When did you get in?” Roger asked, joining the line.

  “A while ago,” she said vaguely. Roger would feel bad if he knew she’d been in town for nearly twenty-four hours without contacting him.

  Her brother reached for his wallet as they approached the counter. “What would you like?” he asked.

  Because she so rarely had anything other than plain old black coffee, Abby wasn’t sure what to order. The menu on the wall listed a number of drinks and she found it all a bit confusing. “Just a latte, I guess.” As it was, she’d already had three cups of coffee this morning.

  “What about mixing it up a little?” he suggested.

  Abby kept her gaze focused on the menu. There were dozens of different flavors to choose from. Dozens. “Just get me what you’re ordering for Victoria,” she said, fearing her hesitation was holding up the line.

  “Good idea.”

  The barista was ready for their order. “Three hot vanilla chai lattes with a shot of espresso plus a mocha twist with caramel, no whipped topping.”

  The woman grabbed three cups and quickly wrote out the order in shorthand on them, and then her fingers flew across the cash register’s keyboard. The total could have bought them lunch.

  Roger paid and then they scooted down to where the drinks were being assembled and delivered. The sound of gurgling milk filled the compact room. After they collected their drinks, Roger found them a table by the window.

  Abby tasted her vanilla chai tea with espresso and had to admit it was good. The drink probably had as many calories as a full sandwich, which was fine. She hadn’t planned on eating lunch anyway.

  “So how does it taste?” Roger asked, watching her expression.

  “Not bad,” she admitted.

  Her brother had only just sat down when he abruptly stood again. “Victoria’s here.” His eyes brightened as he focused his gaze at the parking lot.

  Abby glanced over her shoulder to where her future sister-in-law was climbing out of her car. She’d parked next to Abby’s rental car. Victoria was just as lovely as her picture, perhaps even more so. Her hair was as dark as Roger’s, shoulder-length and tucked behind her ears. She was petite and slim and she wore a soft pink sweater and white slacks under a long gray wool coat that she’d left unbuttoned. Abby took another sip of her drink and then stood to meet the woman who’d snagged her brother.

  Roger greeted his fiancée with a gentle kiss on the lips and then, with his arm around her waist, he led her toward the table where Abby waited.

  “Victoria, this is my sister, Abby. Abby, my soon-to-be-wife, Victoria.” His eyes were warm with love and pride.

  “I’m pleased to meet you,” Victoria said. “Roger has told me so much about you.”

  Abby frowned, instantly afraid that Roger had told her about the accident. Naturally he would have. Victoria was to be his wife; she would need to know, if she didn’t already. It seemed to Abby as though her entire life had been rent in two by that fateful night.

  Before the accident.

  After the accident.

  And between that chasm, was a huge pile of “what ifs.” Abby stuffed down the regrets, the guilt, and the pain, refusing to allow the feelings to surface.

  It took an awkward moment for her to realize that Roger and Victoria were awaiting her response. “I’m so very pleased to meet you, too,” she finally managed to blurt out.

  Roger pulled out a chair for Victoria. “Did you get everything settled with the caterer?”

  Victoria expelled a deep sigh and nodded as she settled into the chair and shucked off her coat. “Thank goodness my mother kept the receipt.”

  “What happened?” Abby asked.

  “Nothing important, just finalizing everything for tomorrow.” Victoria reached for Roger’s hand. “My mother has been working on this wedding for weeks …”

  “Months,” Roger interrupted.

  “She’s the organized one in the family and it’s a good thing.”

  “What about the rehearsal dinner tonight?” Abby asked. With her parents living out of state, it would have been difficult for her own mother to arrange such a large dinner. Nor could Abby remember her mother mentioning it.

  “Not to worry, I took care of that.” Roger looked downright proud of himself.

  “You?” Abby asked, laughing.

  “Hey, it was a breeze. I booked the banquet room at the Lighthouse restaurant and—”

  “Just a minute,” Abby said, raising her hand to stop him. “I thought Mom told me that the Lighthouse burned to the ground.”

  “It did,” Victoria answered on Roger’s behalf. “But it was rebuilt.”

  “And under new ownership, too,” Roger added. “They have a large banquet room that will fit the wedding party plus an assorted group of relatives.”

  “I helped choose the menu,” Victoria whispered, “otherwise Roger would have ordered pizza and beer.”

  “They have great pizza,” Abby’s brother countered.

  “Pizza? You wouldn’t have?” Abby teased. “You’re not serious.”

  “I am serious,” Victoria said, smiling.

  Abby enjoyed the banter between Roger and his fiancée. The two were so obviously in love, so obviously right for each other.

  “Have you been down Harbor Street yet?” Victoria asked after sipping her drink.

  “Well
, yes … a ways, why?”

  “Did you see the Victorian Tea Room?”

  “Ah.” Abby didn’t think so. “I don’t know. Is it new?”

  “Very. It opened last year. The couple who owned the Lighthouse sold it and built the tearoom instead. It’s become one of the most popular places in town for breakfast and lunch. Be sure and give it a try before you leave … or at least drive by.”

  “I will,” Abby promised.

  “Where are you staying?” Victoria asked next, her hand gripping her latte.

  “Rose Harbor Inn.”

  Victoria frowned. “I don’t think I know it.”

  “It was originally the Frelingers’ place.”

  “Sandy and John’s? They sold?” Victoria sounded surprised. “Well, good for them. I remember Mom saying something about the place being up for sale, but that was months ago. Is it still as lovely as I remember?”

  “It’s amazing, and the new owner is very nice.” Thoughtful and considerate, too, but Abby didn’t want to sound like she was gushing, or let on that she’d been there long enough to become acquainted with Jo Marie.

  “I can’t tell you how pleased we are that you’re here,” Victoria said, holding Roger’s hand. “It means the world to us.”

  “I wouldn’t miss my big brother’s wedding.” Abby would never admit how difficult it’d been to make this simple decision. Her parents had more or less guilted her into attending. Guilt was one emotion she responded to well, although it was sad to admit.

  “When do Mom and Dad arrive?” Abby asked next. She already knew but she wanted to change the subject. It would be uncomfortable if Victoria started asking questions she didn’t want to answer. Questions about why it had taken so long for her to commit to serving the wedding cake. Questions about why she hadn’t booked her flight until it was almost too late.

  Roger checked his watch. “Their plane landed ten minutes ago.”

  “Was it on time?”

  Her brother pulled out his cell phone and typed in a few words. After a couple of minutes he glanced up and announced, “Right on the nose.”

  “When do you expect them to arrive?”

  “By the time they get the rental car and check into the hotel, it’ll be a good two hours. Mom said she’d phone if they were going to be any later than five,” Roger explained.