The Inn at Rose Harbor

by Debbie Macomber

  Their gazes clashed for several heartbeats. “I need some fresh air,” she announced, and reached for her coat on her way out the door.

  Josh thought to stop her. She was halfway outside when he raised his hand, but he didn’t know what to say. Perhaps this was for the best.

  His shoulders sank as the door clicked closed. Door after door had closed on him after his mother’s death. Why this one should bother him as much as it did was beyond him.

  Chapter 27

  I was looking forward to my visit to the library. I’ve always been a big reader and thought I might eventually volunteer as a Friend of the Library.

  Meeting Grace and Judge Olivia earlier over lunch had been a welcome surprise. I hadn’t thought I’d make connections in my new home so quickly. I’d worried I’d be a bit isolated in this town where I knew no one. I recognized right away that these two successful women would be excellent role models for me. I could learn a good deal about business and life from them, and hoped to cultivate their friendship.

  The walk to the library took only a few moments. The building was made of cement blocks with a large mural on the side that faced the marina. The wind blew off the water and boats gently bobbed in the swells.

  The library mural depicted a woman from the 1800s holding a lantern and looking out to sea, presumably waiting for the return of her husband, a fisherman or sailor. Two small children were at her side. It seemed to be freshly painted.

  The double glass doors opened automatically as I approached. Once inside I felt a welcome rush of warm air. I noticed a long counter for checking out books was set off to one side. An information booth was more centrally located. Both counters were manned.

  “Jo Marie.”

  I heard my name and turned around to discover Grace walking toward me.

  “Oh, hi! I came in to sign up for a library card,” I told her.

  “Wonderful,” Grace said, brightening. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you where you can fill out the form.”

  “Perfect.” She led me to a computer stand and brought up the appropriate page. She’d just finished explaining what I needed to do when an employee approached her with a request.

  “If you’ll excuse me for a moment,” Grace said.

  “Of course.” I hadn’t expected her to drop everything just for me. It only took me a few minutes to complete the form and submit the information. I was told that my name would be entered into the system and I would be issued a card within five to seven working days.

  Grace returned. “Would you like a tour of the library?”

  “That would be great if you have the time.”

  We started toward the back of the large open area that was clearly for children. “We recently started a ‘Reading with Rover’ program for children with reading difficulties,” she explained. “Beth Morehouse brings in dogs for the children.”

  “Dogs?” I asked.

  “Yes, the children read to them—it puts them at ease and helps them relax. A dog isn’t judgmental if they stumble over a word, and volunteers are available to help. I know it sounds funny, but you’d be amazed at how much this program has helped these slow readers.”

  “Do you need any more volunteers?” I asked.

  “How kind of you to offer, but thankfully we have more than enough volunteers. You never know when that could change, though. I’ll put your name down for the future. However, if you’re looking …” she paused and studied me. “How are you with animals?”

  I wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “Fine, I guess.”

  “Do you like dogs?”

  “I love them. But while I was working full-time it didn’t seem fair to have one that I left home alone all day.”

  Grace beamed me a huge smile. “How would you feel about adopting a dog?”

  “Adopting a dog?”

  “I volunteer at the local animal shelter,” she explained, “and we’ve currently got a large dog population. I was thinking you might want to adopt a pet.”

  Instantly a long list of reasons to reject the idea came to mind. First off, having a dog would limit my business at the inn—anyone allergic or simply not fond of animals would certainly pass me over. I’m fond of dogs but I haven’t had one since I was a kid. Did I really have the time to care for a dog? They could be labor intensive. I’d already made several big changes in my life and I wasn’t sure I was up to another.

  Grace must have read the reluctance in my expression because she added, “A dog, especially a larger one, would offer you protection and is such pleasant company.” She smiled. “Years ago now, when I was single, I got a sweet-natured golden retriever named Buttercup. She was my constant companion. It was the first time in my life that I lived alone and I can’t tell you what a comfort Buttercup was to me.”

  I’d been on my own nearly my entire adult life, so it wasn’t the same for me. Still, Grace brought up a good point. A dog, especially of a larger breed, could offer me a certain amount of security. The world is full of men like Spenser who would be eager to take advantage of me. And when it came to taking in guests, well, I couldn’t be sure what type of people they would be—having a large dog at my side wasn’t such a bad idea.

  “I think getting a dog is an excellent suggestion,” I said, mulling it over. I was tempted but concerned, too. “My only worry is that it might be an issue for my guests.”

  “Think about it,” Grace said. “I bet it’s something you could work around. For dog lovers, it would probably be a selling point for the inn.”

  “I do like the idea …”

  Grace appeared delighted by my interest. “Now is an especially good time. Like I said, the shelter has a big selection with several breeds available for adoption.” She led me over to the counter and wrote down the address and tore the sheet of paper from the tablet.

  A dog. Well, this should be interesting. I might take a look later and see what animals were available.

  My errands completed, I walked back to the inn, thinking long and hard about adopting a dog. I’d always heard German shepherds were excellent dogs. A German shepherd would make a superb guard dog. It wouldn’t hurt to check out the shelter and get the necessary information before I made a final decision. I’d also need to get the name of a dog trainer and find out about obedience classes.

  With a sense of purpose, I got into my car and entered the address in my navigational system. The shelter was only ten minutes away, and as I drove, I could almost feel Paul’s approval. Getting a dog would have pleased him. I remember him talking about his childhood pet named Rover, an Alaskan husky.

  As soon as I entered, I could hear dogs barking in the background. I approached the counter and was greeted by a volunteer.

  “Hello,” I said. “I’ve come to see the animals … I’m thinking of adopting a dog—preferably a larger breed.”

  “We have several. You’ll need to fill out the paperwork first. Once you’ve been approved you’ll be able to make your selection.”

  Approved? All I wanted to do was take a look, but it might make sense to get all the paperwork out of the way just in case I found an animal I felt I could adopt. Owning any pet was a responsibility, so I could understand why the shelter wanted to be sure the animals in their care went into healthy living environments.

  I was handed a clipboard with the application. I found a quiet corner where I could sit and fill it out. It took me a few minutes and when I was finished I had to wait to hand the clipboard back to the volunteer.

  “Thanks—a member of our staff will review the application and let you know in a few minutes. You can wait here if you’d like.”

  “Oh, sure.” I had to wonder if things were moving more quickly than I wanted them to. After all, I’d just come to look. I hadn’t made a decision, and yet I could feel myself leaning toward the idea. I wasn’t an impulsive person by nature, and yet I’d made a number of major decisions in the last few months based on emotion. That wasn’t like me. I suppose this sudden departure
from my usual behavior could be part of the grieving process, but I couldn’t say that for sure. I shifted, suddenly uncomfortable, and glanced toward the door, briefly wondering if anyone would notice if I simply left. My heart started to pound and my knees felt as if they wouldn’t support me. What did I really know about dogs? Very little. I’d had enough change in my life and I certainly didn’t need to add more.

  Feeling unusually warm, I unbuttoned my coat. I continued to waver, but just when I was about to leave, a volunteer approached me. He smiled and said, “Come this way.”

  “I … I’ve had a change of heart,” I said, stumbling over the sentence. “I mean I like animals but …”

  “Hmm … I understand, but why don’t you take a look at the dogs available for adoption, before you make up your mind.”

  “Ah …” Still, I hesitated.

  This young man wasn’t taking no for an answer. “This way,” he said, and ushered me into the back of the shelter. He held open the door for me, and I noticed the clipboard with my application was in his hand. “My name’s Neal, by the way.”

  “Hello Neal … I’m Jo Marie. Do you know Grace Harding?” I asked, to cover my nervousness. “She’s the one who recommended I adopt a pet.”

  Neal broke into a big grin. “Grace and I both volunteer on Saturdays. She got called into work this morning unfortunately. I see she’s still doing her best even when she’s not here to find good homes for the shelter animals.” He led the way down a long hallway with cages on both sides. The dogs inside lay sprawled out, most of them napping. Water and food dishes were set off to one side of the enclosure.

  “It’s like they’re in jail,” I commented, instantly sympathizing with the canines.

  “They’re only in the cages for part of the day,” Neal assured me. “Volunteers walk them regularly and see to it that they have food and water. You don’t need to worry—every animal in this shelter is well loved and cared for until we can find them a permanent home. Unfortunately, we have an overabundance lately. With a slower economy, some families can no longer afford to keep their pets.”

  “Like I said, I’m not sure about this.”

  “Don’t make a decision just yet, okay?”

  “Okay,” I murmured.

  Slowly we progressed down the wide hallway. “What about a German shepherd?” I asked.

  “We have a few.”

  “Could I see them?” I asked, thinking I was wasting both his time and mine.

  “Of course. Shep and Tinny are on the left-hand side about three-quarters of the way down.” He stepped up his pace.

  Apparently the dogs were accustomed to people walking past because only a handful seemed to even notice me. A couple lifted their heads but then they put their chins back down on their paws and closed their eyes.

  With one exception.

  As soon as he saw me, a small dog of mixed breeding instantly leaped to his feet and raced to the front of the cage.

  “Well, hello there,” I said, crouching down so that I could get a better look at the black and white dog. “And who might you be?” He was a cute thing, but much smaller than what I was looking to adopt. If I did adopt.

  “Oh my,” Neal said.

  Perplexed by the volunteer’s reaction, I glanced up. “Is something wrong?”

  “That’s Rover.”

  “Rover?” Paul’s dog had been named Rover, too.

  “Not very original, is it? We sort of run through a lot of names here and it looked like he’d been roving for a good long while, so that’s what we picked.”

  “Oh.” My gaze went back to the scraggly looking pooch who stared back at me with dark brown eyes. His gaze was unwavering, as if he expected something from me in return. I had nothing to give him.

  “Rover was abandoned and was half-starved when he was found. It’s the first time I’ve seen him react to anyone. I think he must like you.”

  “Well, Rover, I’m sorry but I need a much bigger dog.” Slowly I straightened. I started to walk away when Rover let loose with a pitched howl that startled both Neal and me.

  I turned around. “Is he all right?”

  “I don’t know,” Neal admitted. “I’ve never seen him do anything like that before. In fact, I’ve never seen him show interest in anyone the whole time he’s been here.”

  “Has that been long?” As cute as he was, in a scruffy sort of way, I had to assume if Rover hadn’t been adopted before now, then there must be a good reason.

  “Well, longer than most dogs his size. Because of the shape he was in when we found him, it took us several weeks to get him to the point, health-wise, where he could be adopted, and …” Neal hesitated.

  “And?” I said, wanting him to supply the information.

  “He seems to be a bit prickly.”

  “How do you mean?”

  Neal shrugged. “He takes a disliking to some people and a liking to others, but you’re the first he’s responded to like this.” I guess I should have been flattered.

  “Actually, every time any potential owner showed interest, Rover did something that caused them to choose another dog,” Neal elaborated, “that is, until he saw you.”

  I shrugged it off. “He probably smells my lunch or something.”

  Neal didn’t look as if he believed me, but he seemed willing to accept my explanation. We continued down the wide aisle and the further we got from Rover, the louder he howled.

  I ignored him until we reached the pen that held the first of the two German shepherds. “What’s his name?” I asked.

  “This is Shep.”

  “Hello, Shep,” I said and squatted down.

  Shep lifted his head and gave me a disinterested look, and then nestled his chin on his paw once more.

  In the meantime, Rover was up on his hind legs, his paws against the lower bar, howling and making all kinds of a ruckus.

  Neal stood with his clipboard pressed against his chest. “I’ve never seen Rover behave like this.”

  “I don’t want a small dog,” I emphasized. I was looking to adopt a watchdog that would give the likes of Spenser reason to pause. An eleven-pound mixed breed dog wasn’t going to frighten anyone beyond the postman.

  “This one is Tinny,” Neal said, moving down one pen. “Like in Rin Tin Tin.”

  “Tinny,” I repeated. Tinny was sprawled out, too, and couldn’t have cared less that company had arrived to inspect him as a possible adoptee.

  Rover continued to howl.

  “Perhaps you should take Rover out for a walk,” Neal suggested.

  “I don’t want Rover,” I insisted.

  Neal grinned and shook his head. “Apparently Rover wants you.”

  “Oh for the love of heaven, all right, I’ll take Rover out for a walk.” As far as I was concerned all this fuss was probably because Rover was housebroken and knew enough to let someone know he wanted outside.

  Neal retrieved a leash and opened the pen door. I half expected Rover to race out of the cage and exercise his freedom. Instead he walked out with all the dignity of visiting royalty, and stopped directly in front of me. He sat on his haunches and looked up.

  “Well, all right,” I said, and took the leash from Neal’s hands and connected one end to Rover’s collar. Neal led the way to the door and that was where we started. I felt a bit ridiculous, walking this silly dog around the grassy area outside the shelter.

  We had just crossed through the door when Rover turned his head and looked at me. Our eyes connected and it felt as if an electric shock jolted through me. Neal had joked about Rover choosing me, but I could see that this was no exaggeration. This dog had already claimed me as his owner. He was determined to go home with me.

  I pulled my gaze away and returned to the shelter where Neal waited. “That was quick,” he said.

  “Tell me more about Rover,” I asked.

  “Well, like I said, he was half-starved and in poor shape physically when he was found.” He flipped the pages and paused with a frow
n. “We believe he was an abused animal.”

  “Abused in what way?”

  “It’s difficult to tell, but the notes here suggest that he was physically and psychologically harmed.”

  “Which explains his reaction with other potential owners,” I murmured softly, thinking out loud.

  A dog that needed healing. I wondered if it was possible that Rover had recognized the pain in my own heart. Rover continued to hold my gaze, his look intent. I knew I should give this decision more thought—factor in the issues it might cause for the inn, especially if it turned out that he had a prickly personality. Yet something inside me said it would be okay … more than okay. Rover belonged with me at Rose Harbor Inn.

  I squinted down at the dog and blinked back tears. “Did Paul send you?” I whispered.

  Rover’s gaze remained unwavering. It was because of Paul that I was living in Cedar Cove. He’d sent two wounded souls to be the first guests at the B&B and now he had thrust a dog in my path. Not just any dog, either, but one wounded in spirit and heart. The decision was made. I would bring Rover home with me.

  Chapter 28

  Abby and her mother pulled into the parking lot at the Pancake Palace where Patty had suggested they meet for lunch. Already Abby’s heart palpitated as she mentally prepared herself for seeing some of her old schoolmates. Friends she’d once considered sisters but had blatantly ignored since Angela’s funeral. She wondered if they’d be as welcoming as Patty, or if they would be so bold as to bring up the accident. Did people still think she might have been drunk or reckless behind the wheel that night?

  Her mother seemed unnaturally silent, too. She appeared to feel Abby’s hesitation and doubts. Linda Kincaid placed her hand on top of Abby’s. “You ready?” she asked softly.

  Abby nodded, although dread built up like bile in the back of her throat. It shouldn’t be this hard, and it wouldn’t be if she hadn’t shut everyone off so completely. Despite Patty’s reassurances, Abby’s fears ran rampant. What would she say if someone brought up Angela or the accident? She decided she would just be honest and tell them the accident had changed the course of her life. Perhaps she’d need to defend herself against their accusations; if that happened, she wasn’t sure what she’d do.