The Archer House (The Archer Inn Book 1)

by Kimberly Thomas

  Had Roger called any of them? That lump in her throat grew larger at the thought of her siblings being there at the inn. Part of her wanted to see them, wanted to try to rekindle the relationship they'd once had. But the other part of her didn't want to face them. She didn't want them to know what a disgrace she had become.

  With any luck, maybe her sisters wouldn't be there. She was pretty sure Randy, her only brother, still lived in town. Last she had checked, he still owned the Bayside Marina, which was about twenty minutes north of the inn. She wouldn't be able to avoid seeing him at the very least.

  As if the universe enjoyed toying with her, the Jag jerked and started to swerve slightly. A warning light popped up on her dashboard, a pinging sound echoing through the small car's interior as if she couldn't tell when she had gotten a flat tire. Holly groaned out in frustration as the car started to slow. She pulled it off to the side of the road as it shuddered to a stop. For a moment, she sat there, hands tightly gripping the steering wheel. She tried to fight back the urge to start banging against it.

  Could anything else go wrong in her life? Because, the way things were going, it was starting to look like a meteor might come crashing down on top of her at any moment. And honestly, she wouldn't have been surprised if one did at that point. Everything else that could have gone wrong had gone wrong, so why not a cataclysmic event on top of everything else?

  Holly closed her eyes and forced herself to take deep breaths. This was starting to become a daily habit for her, she thought with a snort of laughter. If things kept up like this, she was going to end up needing anger management therapy or something.

  Maybe going back down to the Keys wasn't such a bad idea. A few days away from all the stress of life might've been what she needed to really reboot herself. That was if she could ever get there.

  As far as she knew, there was a spare tire in the trunk somewhere, but God if she knew how to put the danged thing on. She vaguely remembered her father teaching her and her siblings how to do it years and years ago, but those memories were just phantoms in her mind. Tears stung at the corners of her eyes as she once again resisted the urged to pound her fists against the steering wheel.

  She was so close to her destination, too. Couldn't the tire have held out long enough for her to at least get to the inn? But no, it had to decide to randomly die in the middle of nowhere on the side of the highway. But wasn't that her luck? Everything that could go wrong this year had gone wrong, so why was she the least bit surprised at this point?

  Pulling out her phone, she stared at it for a moment and then let out a soft sigh of relief. At least she wasn't stranded without any signal. That had to count for something, right?

  Thankfully, she also had the number for her insurance saved into the phone's contact list. But because that seemed to be the extent of her luck, after waiting fifteen minutes to be connected to an actual person, she was told it would take four to six hours before they could get someone out there.

  She ended the call in frustration as she blinked away the tears. I will not have a breakdown! she told herself sternly. She was stronger than this. No matter how grim or dark things were, she could muscle through it. She always had, hadn't she?

  But if the insurance couldn't get someone out there to fix her car or whatever for hours, what could she do? She didn't quite like the idea of sitting on the side of the road for hours on end, praying they'd show up sooner rather than later. With a sigh, she stared at her phone again.

  There was only one person she could call to come to get her out of this mess.

  Randy.

  She'd known she would have to face him at the very least, at some point, but this was not how she had pictured their fated reunion. But what other choice did she have? Uncle Roger was at least in his late sixties. He had no business coming out here to help her change a tire. And Holly wasn't sure what was going on with her mother and didn't want to risk trying to call her for help.

  This left her with only Randy as her option. Holly smirked as she pictured the look of annoyance that would no doubt be on his face after she asked him for his help. But Randy was her brother. No matter what history the two of them had together, they would always share blood.

  And blood helped blood, no matter what. That was one of the lessons her father had drilled into all of them. They didn't have to like each other, but they had to love each other. And while Holly may not have gotten along with her siblings in the last couple of decades, she still loved all of them, and she had no doubt they loved her too.

  So while Randy would be annoyed, he wouldn't leave her stranded out there.

  She hoped.

  Chapter Four

  Twenty minutes later, a large pickup truck pulled up behind her tiny Jag. Holly's breath caught in her throat as she watched as the driver's side door opened and a figure hopped out. When the door closed, her chest tightened as her brother made his way toward her car. Even in the mirror, she could see that annoyed look on his face as he shook his head.

  Holly risked the slightest smirk, knowing her imagination had been right about the sour look. When she stepped out of her car, Randy stopped a few feet away, and the two of them stared awkwardly at each other. Holly had no idea what to say to her little brother, and it looked like he was equally lost for words.

  At least they had that in common.

  After a few moments, Randy let out a sigh and then turned his attention toward the car. Holly may have been mistaken, but she was pretty sure he looked at the car with more admiration than he did his older sister. Finally, his gaze zeroed in on the flat tire on the rear passenger side.

  He walked over to it and squatted down in front of it for a moment, looking at it intently. When he looked back up at Holly, he raised an eyebrow. "All that money and you still can't change a tire?" he asked dryly.

  Holly shrugged as heat rushed to her cheeks. What else could she do? He wasn't wrong. She didn't think she would ever have to change a tire since the day her father had shown her how. She'd always either had Will or someone else to do it for her in the rare event she did have a flat.

  "Spare in the trunk?" Randy asked next. Holly nodded. Before he could ask, she went back over to the driver's side door and pressed the little button to pop it open.

  Randy hefted her suitcase out of the trunk with ease and then lifted the carpet liner to reveal the hidden compartment hiding her spare tire. Holly had known it was in there, but she had never actually laid eyes on the thing. She hoped it was still in good condition, but considering her car was only about a year and a half old she figured it was a pretty safe bet. Though, with everything else going wrong, it really wouldn't have surprised her if Randy had pulled out a spare tire that was shredded to pieces.

  But her luck held this time, and after a few more minutes, the normal tire was off and the small spare was on in its place. Randy stood and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and looked at her.

  Holly had the urge to offer to pay him for helping her out, but she knew it would be a futile offer. He'd had the same upbringing she had. You didn't take money from family. You helped them out just because they were family.

  "It won't last forever," Randy said, still all business-like. In all the time since he had gotten there, he hadn't said anything to her that wasn't related to the job at hand. "But it'll get you to town where you can either get this one fixed or get a new one." He gently kicked the offending tire, then lifted it and brought it over to his pickup truck, tossing it in the back. "I can drop this off at the shop later for you. Doubt you wanna try to squeeze it in the back of the Jag."

  Silently, Holly nodded as she stared into the brown eyes of her brother. God, he looked so much like their father that it sent a chill down her spine. Then she thought the tire might fit in there, barely, but that meant she would have to put her suitcase in the passenger seat. The Jag wasn't exactly designed with storage in mind. But that had been one of the reasons she had gotten it. With the kids grown and off on their
own, she didn't need a big SUV that could hold a half dozen kids and their sports gear anymore.

  When Randy went to get back into his truck, though, Holly took a step forward. "Wait," she called out, her voice cracking as her heart thundered. Randy froze, one hand on the truck's door, and looked at her. "Why don't we get a cup of coffee or something? Get caught up with each other?"

  Holly chewed on her bottom lip as she waited for Randy to respond. For what felt like an eternity, he stared at her, frowning. Would he outright reject her olive branch? Or would he at least give her a shot? Finally, he let out a sigh and a half nod. "How about a beer instead?" he asked.

  Holly raised an eyebrow, but she didn't comment. It was after lunchtime, at least, so hitting a bar wouldn't be that bad of an option. Besides, if she was going to try to patch things up with her younger brother, she thought a glass of wine might be in order. At the very least, it might help the two of them loosen up enough to get past the awkward silence.

  "Sure, that's fine," Holly said, forcing a smile.

  After all, if they were going to sit and talk, did it really matter if it was a coffee shop or a bar?

  Just as Holly suspected, as they sat in the old beach sidebar that had been there since before either of them was born, things were tense and quiet. Both of them sipped their drinks and watched each other, only making the briefest of small talk.

  God, how had things gotten to this point? As kids, they had always been able to talk about anything and everything. They'd had each other's back and trusted each other implicitly. And now, each time Holly opened her mouth to tell Randy about what a mess her life had become, the words stuck in her throat.

  Randy was the first one to broach anything remotely personal. "How are the kids doing?" he asked, leaning back in his chair.

  Holly nodded and looked at her little brother. That was a safe question, at least. "They're doing fantastic. Both are engaged now, and Sean's baby girl has to be the cutest three-year-old in the world!" Her life may have been a wreck, but she could gush about her kids and grandbaby all day long.

  Randy nodded and smiled. "I don't know, Sarah and Emma were pretty cute at that age too," Randy said with a slight laugh, and Holly laughed alongside him. He had two teenagers, Holly remembered.

  She also remembered he had gotten divorced a while back as well. So it wasn't like she was the only one in the family with a failed marriage. And yet, she still couldn't bring herself to tell him the truth. She could see in his eyes he still had this vision of her as the woman who could conquer the world.

  She didn't want to shatter that illusion, not for him and not for herself either. Deep down, she knew her dream life was over, but she still didn't want to admit it. To her, if she did, that was like finalizing it once and for all.

  They talked about their kids a bit longer, the atmosphere lightening up bit by bit. Now that they had found a safe topic of conversation, and the alcohol had started to loosen them both up a bit, they were both more comfortable sitting at a table together. Even though it had been years since they had done anything like this, it wasn't long before they were smiling.

  Finally, Holly had to broach the elephant in the room. "What's going on with Mom and the inn?" she asked. Roger hadn't given her many details, and she really didn't want to go into the situation blind if she didn't have to.

  But Randy shrugged and took another long sip of his beer. "Don't know. I haven't been to the place in ages. I've got my own business to run and don't have the time to be worrying about the inn."

  Holly peered at him. She may not have been close with her brother anymore, but she could still see right through his lie. She had no doubt he hadn't paid much attention to the family business, but she knew it had nothing to do with worrying about his own business. Holly could see it in his eyes.

  He still hadn't recovered from their father's death. He still harbored his resentment toward their mother since he had always claimed she favored the girls over him. Holly knew that wasn't true, though. But either way, losing their father had been a massive blow to Randy. Even back then, when she'd still had her perfect life and her own things to worry about, she had seen the sunken and hollow look on his face at the funeral.

  He looked so much better, at least. His brown hair was a little disheveled. He wore a five o'clock shadow across his chiseled chin, and he was pretty fit for a six-foot guy that loved his beer, but she could still see some of the pain in his brown eyes. Holly wondered how well he had coped over the last two years. And then, she kicked herself for not having kept in touch. She was the oldest, and it was her job to keep tabs on everyone, wasn't it? But if that was the truth, Holly knew Randy would have pushed her away if she'd tried to mother him at that point. She'd long ago absconded from her role as the big sister.

  The biggest question was, could she ever repair her relationships with her siblings? Only time would be able to tell.

  "Why don't you come to the inn with me?" Holly suggested. That was where this all started. Shouldn't it be where they rekindled everything?

  But Randy wasn't having any of that. He shook his head, his frown deeper than ever. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'm sure you can handle whatever's going on there. You're the successful one out of all of us, aren't you? If there's a problem, you're more than capable of dealing with it." Randy picked up his beer, then downed the rest of it in a single, long swallow. "I've gotta get back to work. It was good to see you again, sis. I'll drop that tire off for you."

  Holly sat silently as she watched her brother leave. Once the door closed behind him, she picked up her own glass and swallowed the rest of the wine. Even that didn't help fill the emptiness inside her, and she wasn't sure if anything ever would. It was tempting to order another glass and see if that helped, but she didn't want to risk going down that road.

  Besides, whatever was going on with her mother and the inn; Holly was pretty sure she would need her wits about her to handle it, especially since it looked like she was going to be doing it all alone.

  Holly sighed and flagged down the waitress to pay her tab. Randy had always been more of a fan of drinking than her, but something told her she would be back to the little bar at some point. With the headaches she knew lay ahead, she would probably need a drink or two just to stay sane.

  Chapter Five

  Holly's nerves stood on end for the remainder of the drive to the Archer House. Even though it had been years since she had last visited, she still knew the way there with her eyes closed. Not much had changed in Islamorada in her absence. In a way, the town felt frozen in time. And yet, somehow, nothing looked outdated or old-fashioned. The town had its own little charm and appeal, which brought tourists there in droves every year like clockwork.

  But the moment she pulled up in front of the Archer House, Holly knew why her uncle had called her. The main family house (the Archer House) appeared to be the only thing that had changed. It still stood right where Holly remembered it, but the dilapidated exterior looked nothing like she remembered. The paint was faded and chipped in places. One of the shutters hung lopsided like it was ready to fall at any moment. Even the roof looked like it was overdue for a replacement.

  The grounds were a bit better. The grass was at least cut and green, but the flowers and bushes her mother had carefully maintained over the years were gone, leaving everything bland and boring compared to how it used to look. God, how long had it been like this? And why hadn't Roger called her sooner?

  Was Mom just overwhelmed? Holly wondered as she stepped out of the Jag. She and Dad had split the responsibilities before he'd died. Had Mom not hired someone to help her out? Was she trying to handle everything herself and getting burned out? There was no way a single person could handle maintaining this place. Heck, it was always a daunting task for two people!

  Holly shook her head, then let out a sigh and headed into the lobby of the inn. There was a young woman Holly didn't recognize at the front desk, and she grinned cheerfully the moment Holly walked through the door.<
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  "Good afternoon! Welcome to the Archer Inn! Do you have a reservation?" The girl was positively bubbling with energy. Holly froze in place and stared at her for a moment, trying to regain her composure.

  "Erm, no," Holly managed to stammer out. She had never felt this flustered before, but somehow the sight of the deteriorating inn and the woman's unusually perky attitude had her brain a jumbled mess. "I'm looking for Mrs. Archer. I'm Holly, her daughter."

  The girl blinked, and then her eyes suddenly went wide. Somehow, it seemed like she was bursting with more energy than she'd had only a few moments ago. "Oh, my gosh! Your mother has told me so much about you! I feel like I already know all of you so well!" Yep, she definitely had more energy. She looked to be practically vibrating. "Your mother went to speak with a guest. Room 109. It's... well, I guess I don't need to give you directions! I'm sure you know this place better than I do!"

  Holly forced a smile and gave a polite nod, then headed in the direction of Room 109. The girl wasn't wrong. Holly did know the place inside and out. She had grown up here, helping her parents run the place as a kid. She had helped with housekeeping and gardening and had run the front desk as a teenager. All the Archer siblings had had to chip in around the place, each having his or her own duties.

  It didn't take long to find her mother. Holly could hear the irate guest from the other side of the hallway. "I don't care!" the man shouted, his deep, booming voice echoing clearly for anyone around to hear. "I've been here for three days now and the shower still doesn't work. I've told you more times than I can count and you still haven't gotten someone here to fix the issue!"

  Holly picked up the pace. When she reached Room 109, she found her mother at the entryway. If the sight of the inn had taken her breath away, her mother's appearance really threw her for a loop. Her skin was sunken and colorless. Her hair was frizzy and dry, hanging loose around her shoulders, so very different from the neatly maintained bun the woman had always worn at the base of her neck.