Page 29 of Fetch Me A Mate (Shifter Mates of Hollow Oak #1)

DIANA

T he morning after the soft reopening, Diana found Miriam in the lobby with the inn's leather-bound ledger spread across the reception desk. Sunlight streamed through the front windows, illuminating pages yellowed with age and filled with careful entries spanning decades.

"Good morning," Diana said, setting down two cups of coffee. "Researching our celebrity guest?"

"Twelve people?"

"Storm hit without warning. Knocked out power, blocked roads.

We had a full house and nowhere for anyone to go.

" Miriam turned the page, revealing newspaper clippings tucked between entries.

"By the third day, they'd organized game tournaments and storytelling circles. Two of them got engaged that summer."

Diana studied the faded photographs. Groups of people gathered around the fireplace, playing cards at the parlor tables, helping in the kitchen. Strangers transformed into family by circumstance and hospitality.

"That's beautiful."

"The inn has a gift for bringing people together. Always has." Miriam flipped ahead several pages. "Here's another. October 2003. 'Siren sang in the lobby until dawn. Half the town fell in love with her voice, the other half with each other.'"

"A real siren?"

"Real as you and me. Traveling through, heartbroken over some sea prince. Keened until morning, and by sunrise three couples had gotten engaged." Miriam's eyes twinkled. "Magic has a way of revealing what's already there."

Diana leaned closer, reading entry after entry of moments when the inn had served as more than shelter. Sanctuary for the lost, catalyst for connections, keeper of stories that mattered.

"All these years, all these people."

"Each one left something behind. Joy, memories, pieces of themselves woven into the building's history." Miriam closed the ledger gently. "That's what you inherited, child. Not just a business, but a promise to keep providing that sanctuary."

"What kind of promise?"

"That there's always a place where people can belong, even temporarily. Where strangers become friends and the lonely find connection." Miriam handed Diana the pen she kept clipped to the ledger's cover. "Your turn."

"My turn for what?"

"To add your entry. First official record as innkeeper."

Diana accepted the pen, its weight familiar in her palm. The same fountain pen Miriam had lent her for the ward signatures, now offered for this more permanent purpose.

"What should I write?"

"Whatever feels true."

Diana thought about yesterday's success, the way skeptics had become supporters over tea and conversation. The community's embrace of her efforts, the satisfaction of proving herself through competence rather than promises.

But underneath the triumph, her empathic gift whispered unease. Rowan had returned from his evening errand last night with tension radiating from him like heat from a forge. He'd insisted everything was fine, but Diana felt the careful control he was maintaining.

Something was building. Something that would test more than her business skills.

She dated the page and began writing in careful script:

November 15th - Soft reopening exceeded expectations. Community support stronger than anticipated. The inn continues its mission of bringing people together. Today felt like home.

"Short and sweet," Miriam observed, reading over her shoulder.

"It's all that matters. This place, these people, this feeling of belonging somewhere."

"Even when things get complicated?"

The question carried weight Diana wasn't sure she understood. "Especially then. Easy times don't need sanctuaries."

"Wise words." Miriam reclaimed the ledger, sliding it into its protective case. "Remember that wisdom in the days ahead."

"Is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, dear. But change is coming. I can feel it in the air, the way you feel storms approaching." Miriam's expression softened. "The inn's weathered changes before. It'll weather whatever's coming."

"What kind of changes?"

"The kind that test what you're made of and force you to choose between safety and principle." Miriam gathered her knitting bag. "But you'll handle it. You've got the backbone for this work."

Before Diana could ask more questions, the front door opened. Rowan entered carrying supplies for the day's work, his pale eyes scanning the lobby with automatic wariness.

"Morning, Miriam. Diana."

"Morning," Diana replied, studying his face. The tension was still there, carefully masked but visible to her gift. "Everything okay?"

"Fine. Just want to finish the parlor trim work today."

"Good plan." Miriam headed for the door, pausing to pat Rowan's arm. "Take care of our girl, won't you?"

"Always."

After Miriam left, Diana confronted Rowan directly. "What happened last night? And don't say nothing. I can feel the stress radiating from you."

"Ran into an old acquaintance. Nothing I can't handle."

"The same old acquaintances who've been causing delivery problems and spreading financial rumors?"

Rowan's jaw tightened. "Yeah."

"What did they want?"

"Same thing they've always wanted. For me to come back and clean up old business."

Diana moved closer, her empathic gift picking up layers of protective fury and barely contained violence. "And you said?"

"I said no."

"And they accepted that?"

"They're still working on acceptance."

The careful phrasing told Diana everything she needed to know. The pack wasn't giving up. If anything, they were escalating.

"Rowan, if staying here puts the inn at risk?—"

"It doesn't." His voice carried absolute certainty. "I'm not running anymore, Diana. Whatever they throw at us, we handle it. No more pushing you away to keep you safe. No more making decisions without consulting you." He stepped closer, his hands finding hers. "We're partners in this. All of it."

"Then we'd better make sure the inn's ready for whatever's coming."

"Already on it. Security improvements, contingency plans, community support." Rowan's smile held grim satisfaction. "They think pressure tactics will break us down. They're wrong."

"Good. Because I didn't put my name in that ledger just to watch everything fall apart."

"What did you write?"

"That today felt like home."

"Does it? Still feel like home after everything that's happening?"

Diana looked around the lobby, at the work they'd accomplished together, at the community that had embraced her vision. Yesterday's success proved the inn's resilience. Today's challenges would prove her own.

"More than ever," she said simply. "Home isn't about avoiding trouble, Rowan. It's about facing it from a place you're willing to defend."

"Then we're home."

"Yes. We are."