Inn at Last Chance

by Hope Ramsay

  Right at the moment, though, Bear was in the kitchen scarfing down the dog food that Jenny had put down for him. Mr. Raintree often forgot to feed the dog, so of course Jenny had taken on that responsibility.

  And since the dog wasn’t with him, the broody version of Mr. Raintree was now stomping through the upstairs bedrooms, his uneven gait quite distinct even through the soundproofing that she’d had installed in all the walls and ceilings.

  She didn’t fully understand him, but she did sympathize with his situation. It had to be difficult for him to watch her change the house he remembered from his childhood.

  If the roles were reversed and he was changing Grandpa’s farmhouse, she would be upset, too. Before the fire destroyed it, Grandpa’s farmhouse had been where her family had gathered for every holiday and special occasion. The farm had been the family’s home place. Maybe The Jonquil House was like that for Mr. Raintree.

  His footsteps sounded down the stairway, punctuated every third step or so by a muttered profanity. When he got to the bottom of the stairs and turned into the living room, the cursing stopped.

  “This is more like it,” he said. And then Jenny heard the sound of the recliner being activated.

  She headed off to the living room to see what he was up to. The room was in pitiful shape. The furniture the movers had just installed was about as plain and ugly as furniture could get. It consisted of a blue velour recliner, a dilapidated sofa, and a couple of cheap end tables with ugly 1970s-style lamps.

  For years, Mother had talked about how she would one day inherit Granny Carpenter’s living room furniture—and the beautiful Victorian farmhouse. But then the furniture and the house burned up, and Granddaddy came to live with them for a while, and then Mother got MS and started her long, slow decline.

  So Mother’s dreams burned up, but Jenny would make good on them. With Lucy and Sabina’s help, she’d contacted several antiques dealers in Charleston with a list of antebellum items she was looking for, including a camel-backed sofa, matching side chairs, and a marble-topped coffee table.

  But for now, her living room looked like a set for That ’70s Show. She entered the room to find Mr. Raintree sprawled in the recliner, his injured foot elevated. Something wicked sparkled in those great dark eyes of his. He followed her with his gaze, and his regard set her heart to thumping in her chest. Why on earth would he look at her like that? He had already identified her as a plain Jane spinster.

  “Do you have a remote for the TV?” he asked.

  “No, I’m sorry, I don’t.”

  “Jenny, don’t be sorry.”

  “I… Uh…” She didn’t really know how to respond, so she closed her mouth and turned on the television.

  Gray static filled the small-format screen.

  “Wiggle the rabbit ears,” Mr. Raintree commanded.

  She did as she was told and even changed the channels a few times. But nothing was coming through, except for the waves of masculine displeasure emanating from her guest. Or was it something other than displeasure? She couldn’t tell.

  So she apologized again. “I’m sorry. This television is very old, and we’re not going to get much with the rabbit ears. I’m going to get satellite installed in a day or two, but in the meantime, if you’re desperate for entertainment, there’s a box in the corner with some ancient video game equipment. I found it in the attic. I have no idea if it still works, but I suppose it once belonged to you. So if you want to hook it up to the television, be my guest.”

  “Is it a Nintendo system?” He turned his gaze on the dusty box as if it might be a snake coiling in the corner.

  “I have no idea what kind. It’s old, though. And please, don’t get too comfortable with this furniture because it has to be replaced with something before March first. I’ve got several antiques dealers looking for pieces that might be right. But if they fail me, I’ll have to buy reproductions.”

  “You’re getting rid of the recliner?” He seemed unusually put out.

  “That recliner is about twenty-five years old and threadbare. I can’t have guests coming in and seeing furniture like that. Besides I want furniture that will complement the dining room.”

  “Complement the dining room? Jesus, don’t tell me you’re planning to put some god-awful, prissy velvet sofa in here.”

  “Well, I was looking for a camel-backed sofa. Something antebellum.”

  He groaned and shook his head. “When that happens, please move the recliner into my bedroom.”

  “Mr. Raintree, there is no room for a recliner in any of the bedrooms. And speaking of bedrooms, which of the upstairs ones would you like to move into? I’ll help you move your things tomorrow.”

  “I don’t want to move upstairs.”

  “I thought you were unhappy about the heat in the back room.”

  “It’s been warmer the last few days.”

  “Oh, well, I’m glad to hear that. My electrician was out today, and he said there wasn’t anything wrong with the baseboard heat.”, She wondered if Mr. Raintree had been teasing her about the heat. “Oh, and I’ve had all the locks changed. I put your new keys on the kitchen counter.

  “I think it would be best if you moved upstairs,” she continued. “I’m planning to move in tomorrow, and the back bedroom is going to be mine. It’s close to the kitchen, and I—”

  “I’m not moving out of that room. And I’m certainly not letting you sleep back there.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that something very odd is going on in this house, and it seems to be happening mostly in the back bedroom. To be honest, I don’t think you should move in at all.”

  “Mr. Raintree, I’ve humored your suspicions by changing the locks on the exterior doors. But I’m not going to allow you to scare me into giving you the house back, or selling it to you, or whatever your game might be. I know people say this house is haunted, but I don’t believe in ghosts. Do you?”

  His mouth twitched, but he said nothing. Was he playing her for a fool?

  “So please pick one of the rooms upstairs, and we’ll get you moved in tomorrow.” She turned toward the dining room door.

  “No,” he said to her back. “I’ll take the ground-floor bedroom. And not because of any ghosts, but because I like that room. Besides, you don’t want me having to negotiate the stairs every day, what with my bum ankle and all.”

  She gave him another glance and was surprised to discover he was smiling at her. Damn that man. He was manipulating her, and she was going to let him get away with it.

  Wilma Riley would be so disappointed in her.

  Jenny turned and bustled from the room. There was no other word to describe exactly how she moved. She was alive and animated. Her energy infused the house in some way Gabe couldn’t quite describe.

  When she was here, the place seemed warm and happy. When she left, the old place seemed lost and alone.

  Or maybe he was projecting his own feelings on the house. In truth, he looked forward to her arrival in the mornings, and he’d been quite put out when she’d been so late getting here yesterday.

  He had forgotten that everyone in this neck of the woods went to church on Sunday. He’d actually paced his room waiting for the sound of her little Fiesta crunching up the drive.

  And yet, for all that, he was worried about her moving into the house. Someone was playing tricks. Were they trying to make him crazy? Or was this more sinister and aimed at everyone in the house?

  He didn’t know. But he sure knew that he didn’t want Jenny to be harmed. He’d become strangely protective of her. And he always seemed to know exactly where she was at any given moment.

  In truth, Jenny Carpenter was a huge distraction that he didn’t want or need. His only focus right now needed to be writing the book and making sure that his past mistakes didn’t catch up with him.

  He was brooding over this when Bear came bounding into the living room, gave the new furniture a glancing look, and then found a com
fy spot right by the recliner. He settled down and let go of a deep, satisfied sigh. No doubt, Jenny had put out some food for him. The way she fed the dog, Bear would be as big as a grizzly pretty soon.

  Jenny’s calling in life seemed to be feeding people and pets. Every morning, she left pastries for him and a can of dog food for Bear. Bear had already succumbed to this bribery.

  But Gabe was resisting the temptation, sticking to his Cheerios every morning like a good boy. He had almost slipped on Sunday when she’d fired up her oven and baked chocolate chip cookies. The aroma had invaded his room and driven him crazy.

  He gazed down at the dog. “She’s gotten to us right in our most vulnerable spots,” he said.

  Bear gave him a doggie eye roll and a halfhearted tail wag before he dropped his big head between his paws, closed his eyes, and went off to his dog dreams.

  Gabe sat there thinking about the little innkeeper until he heard the engine of Jenny’s car turn over and the sound of her tires on the gravel drive. He was alone now. The house was measurably colder.

  He hauled himself out of the recliner, limped across the room, and opened the dusty cardboard box sitting in the corner. He recoiled from the contents the moment he flipped back the lid. The box contained a Nintendo Entertainment System, circa 1986.

  He remembered it.

  Which was saying something, because pre-hunting-accident memories were hazy and incomplete. He hadn’t thought about the game system since he was ten, but now the memories were right there in the front of his mind. He and Luke were forever bickering over video games. Gabe wanted to play The Legend of Zelda, and Luke was obsessed with Final Fantasy.

  He stared down at the mass of tangled wires and controllers. This system had once been attached to an old TV, which was shoved into the corner next to Grandma’s spinet piano.

  He turned to examine the front windows. That’s what was wrong with the room. The piano was missing. And the TV was in the wrong place.

  He couldn’t do anything about the piano, but Jenny’s TV was on a fake-wood stand with big plastic casters. He pushed the television into the right place, and just like that the room seemed better, as if he’d corrected its feng shui or something.

  Still, he missed the piano. His fingers suddenly itched for a keyboard where he could practice his scales, like he’d done as a boy.

  To distract himself, he pulled over a somewhat threadbare ottoman, sat down beside the TV, and started hooking up the Nintendo system. To his surprise, once he got all the wires connected and plugs plugged, the old video game system awakened. The TV screen came to life with the opening scene for Final Fantasy. The game system asked if he wanted to load the last saved game, which belonged to the player with the initials LER.

  Lucas Edward Raintree.

  He stared at the initials for a long time. A heavy sense of loss percolated deep in his gut. He had bickered with his older brother, but he had also adored him. Luke had been everything Gabe was not. He’d been athletic, and graceful, and handsome, and a great student. And in some ways, he’d been like a parent after Mother and Daddy died. Gabe had been so young he didn’t remember his parents.

  Everyone had loved Luke. And Granddad had had such high expectations for him. Gabe, not so much. Gabe had been the disappointment. He had been fat and awkward and lacked all of Luke’s social graces. He’d never been one of the popular kids at school. And Granddad, who wanted both of his grandsons to have careers in public service, hated that one fact most of all. Granddad was forever harping on the fact that a politician had to be likable to be elected.

  For a while, after Luke died, Grandma had been Gabe’s refuge. Gabe didn’t have to earn his grandmother’s love. She had simply always been there for him. But she’d passed away a year after Luke.

  That’s when Granddad decided to take all of his disappointments out on his one remaining, unworthy grandson. Gabe was required to flawlessly execute Granddad’s long list of expectations. And since he could never fully meet those demands, he was constantly criticized and bullied and abused in ways that didn’t show on the outside.

  Gabe grew up knowing he wasn’t loved. But then love was overrated in his experience. It was better to be alone.

  The dog stretched and gave an audible yawn. And suddenly Gabe remembered something he’d forgotten about his brother.

  Luke had a soft spot for animals. He was forever adopting stray cats and injured birds. It was the one thing about Luke that drove Granddad crazy. Luke hated hunting and fishing, and Granddad lived for those sports.

  Gabe closed his eyes. He could almost conjure up the old living room on the day of the accident. He and Luke had been sitting here in this room playing video games. Or, more correctly, Luke had been playing Final Fantasy, while Gabe watched and whined for a turn. No doubt Gabe’s whining had irritated Granddad, who was in one of his grumpy moods. He’d come down from his study and had bawled them out for sitting inside on such a beautiful spring day. Then he’d pulled Luke’s new rifle out of the gun case and told Luke to go practice his target shooting.

  Gabe could almost see Granddad scolding Luke about the gun in his mind’s eye, and Luke reluctantly saving his game and heading out the door. Zeph had been out in the garden doing a little weeding. The jonquils were in bloom. It was Easter break.

  Granddad had scolded Gabe, too, which wasn’t anything new. He had been told to get off his fat behind and go help Zeph in the garden. But by the time Gabe left the house, Luke had talked Zeph into coming along with him to the field where they used to practice shooting.

  Since Zeph wasn’t weeding anymore, Gabe took that as permission to tag along. He got his air gun and followed his older brother to the grassy field where they set up targets. Gabe remembered that he was jealous of Luke and his rifle. Gabe wanted a rifle, too, but he was too little for one, according to Granddad. He had to be twelve, and he had to go to the shooting range for mandatory NRA safety training before he would be allowed to practice with real ammunition. Until then he was limited to his air gun and BBs.

  Of course all of that changed after Luke died. Granddad sold all his hunting rifles and never went to a shooting range again. So Gabe never got that rifle he had wanted so badly. Instead his dreams were filled with nightmares about guns.

  He tried to remember what happened after he’d tagged along, but it was all a blur. Obviously something terrible occurred, because Luke ended up shot in the chest. But Gabe couldn’t remember, and everyone said it was a blessing.

  Gabe wasn’t all that sure about that. He had a feeling the empty place inside him might not feel so cavernous if he could just remember.

  He opened his eyes, not even surprised to discover that tears smeared his vision and his hands were shaking. He studied the opening screen of Final Fantasy.

  The game system had been waiting twenty-five years for Luke to come back and finish his game.

  CHAPTER

  9

  Jenny arrived at The Jonquil House early Tuesday morning as part of a convoy that consisted of one ancient Fiesta (hers) and two pickup trucks belonging to Sheriff Rhodes and Kyle Connors. The sheriff was not driving his truck; his “little” brother Clay was behind the wheel. Kyle and Clay were members of the Wild Horses country and western band that played a few nights a week down at Dot’s Spot.

  The two men had been roped into helping Jenny by Jane Rhodes, the manicurist at the Cut ’n Curl, a member of the book club, and Clay’s wife. At a book club meeting a month ago, Jenny had complained about the high cost of hiring a moving company, and that was the end of that. Before the meeting was over, Jane had volunteered Clay to round up the requisite number of pickups for the job.

  There being a large number of trucks in Allenberg County, and Clay being a co-owner of the hardware store, he probably could have commandeered dozens of pickups if it were necessary. Clay was the original good neighbor Sam. He went around doing good deeds and on any given day, half the county owed him a favor.

  As it turned out, she
only needed two pickup trucks, which was almost pitiful, seeing as she’d been alive for thirty-six years.

  She killed the Fiesta’s engine and hopped up the front porch. “Y’all are a godsend, both of you,” she said to her helpers with a big smile. She was feeling as light as a balloon today. And the day had dawned perfect. The cold weather had vanished, and a January thaw had settled in. It was a great day to move into the house of her dreams.

  The two big men smiled at her and nodded, then started picking up boxes. Jenny slipped her key into the new front door lock and propped the door open for them.

  She took two steps into the foyer, and her elation deflated a tiny bit. The house seemed bitterly cold again, colder than it was outside.

  She was about to cuss the electrician when she heard the computer-generated music and sound effects wafting from the living room. She headed in that direction only to discover that the room’s furniture had been rearranged. The TV was in the corner and the recliner had been pulled away from the wall so that Mr. Raintree could sprawl in it while simultaneously playing video games.

  He was now fast asleep while the game seemed to be playing on without him. He looked a bit more disheveled today than he had yesterday. Meanwhile, Bear was sitting up, his big head cocked to one side as he watched the action on the TV screen.

  Clay Rhodes came striding through the front door. “Hey, Jenny, where do you want this box marked linens?” he asked in a big voice.

  Bear decided it was time to defend his territory, and like a good watchdog he charged at Clay and started barking.

  Mr. Raintree startled awake, and at the same moment the game that had been progressing on the television seemed to reach a conclusion as well.

  “Hush, Bear,” Jenny directed, but the dog paid her no mind, and she had to snag him by the collar to keep him from knocking over Clay Rhodes. Although Clay was such a big man that Bear probably couldn’t have actually knocked him over, but Jenny didn’t want to risk it.

  “Bear, be quiet,” Mr. Raintree said as he folded the recliner. And, of course, Bear followed his orders without delay. He sat down and looked over at his master, awaiting his next command.