Page 16 of The Cinnamon Spice Inn (Maple Falls #1)

TWELVE

MADISON

“Aha! You’re back!” her dad called out as she stepped into the lobby, a swirl of leaves blowing in with her.

George was tossing a tennis ball for Cocoa, who bounded through the room, yapping excitedly. Cocoa’s nails scratched against the worn runner, the center almost threadbare in spots. Even the sunshine filtering in through the front doors couldn’t brighten the room.

“Careful now—she might trip you up. Cocoa’s got a bit of energy today.”

“I see that,” Madison said, the tension from her encounter with Zach melting away.

She laughed as she had to sidestep quickly to avoid Cocoa pouncing on her instead of the ball.

Madison slid the baked goods, a second box, onto the side table next to a vase of dusty artificial sunflowers.

She unwound her mother’s scarf but didn’t hang it up. Not yet.

Across the room, the front desk bell dinged as a man in a fleece jacket and jeans leaned over the counter, glancing impatiently at his watch.

Gram came out from the back to assist him before George could.

“The Grants, checking out early,” her dad said to her under his breath. “Something about the heat being finicky in room four.”

Madison winced. Weren’t they their last guests? That wasn’t good. She added “radiator inspection” to her mental to-do list.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get to it,” George said, correctly reading his daughter’s expression before changing the subject. “So, tell me, what did you think of downtown? That storm rough it up a bit?”

“Not really. Looks like we’re the ones who took the hit,” Madison replied.

“Well, glad it wasn’t worse then, huh?” Her dad grinned, scooping up the ball before Cocoa could sink her tiny teeth into it.

“I suppose that’s true.” Madison exhaled, letting herself relax into the familiarity of home. “Speaking of which, I saw all the decorations downtown. It looks great; thought we should do the same.”

He blinked as if the thought had never crossed his mind. “Oh, you’re right. Your mom used to fix up the porch for the holidays.” A frown crossed his face.

Madison softened. “I figured I’d go through the attic and see what decorations are tucked away up there.”

“Knowing your mom, there will be bins full of them.” Her dad smiled.

“That’s what I’m thinking, too. I also stopped by the hardware store and ordered a few things for our porch. Tommy’s going to deliver them this afternoon.”

“Ah, just like your mom. She used to order dozens of pumpkins every fall.”

Once again Madison was grateful that her dad and Gram had understood how hard it was for her to come home.

They had never pressured her once in the last few years, never made her feel guilty.

They knew Madison felt her mom everywhere, from the cinnamon-scented halls to the soft quilt draped over the couch.

Being here meant facing everything she had lost.

The funeral was three years ago. But even before that, Madison had kept her distance, especially from the town, ever since leaving when she was twenty-two years old.

The few times she had come back to Maple Falls—Thanksgiving, an occasional birthday visit—she had kept to the inn.

She hadn’t felt ready for the inevitable small-town welcome, the questions, the reminders of how much she had missed.

And, if she was being honest, she hadn’t been ready to bump into a certain someone, either.

But now there could be no staying away, no more running. Dad and Gram needed her. The Cinnamon Spice Inn needed her.

Madison chose her next words carefully, not wanting to hurt her dad’s feelings. “I ran into Emily at the bakery. When I told her you were handling the cooking since Maurice retired, she offered to have the bakery deliver breakfast pastries to take one less thing off your plate.”

“Did she now? I don’t know, seems like that might be a bit expensive.”

Madison tried to keep her voice light. “Not at all. Emily gave us a great deal. Plus, your time is probably better spent taking care of the animals and the grounds, and being front of house, right? You’re so good at that.”

“I have been spending an awful lot of time in that kitchen,” he admitted grudgingly.

“Exactly. And you’re the heart of this place, Dad. You belong out front, not stuck behind a stove.”

That earned a small smile from him. “I suppose that’s true.”

Madison pressed on, still careful not to push too hard.

“Emily also said that Norma Steigler’s great-niece is staying with her.

She’s a chef looking for work. I’m going to chat with her this afternoon and see if she might be a good fit.

It might not come to anything, but if we can get someone cooking here full time, it could be a real draw for new guests. ”

She paused, hoping he’d come to the same conclusion.

While she waited, Madison couldn’t help looking around the lobby with a critical eye.

Without her mom’s touch making everything feel warm and inviting, the oak trim and wainscoting, a hit in the 1990s, now looked dated.

So did the threadbare green carpet with its miniature rose pattern, worn from years of foot traffic.

Madison avoided looking directly at the faint cracks in the drywall around the windows she knew were there.

Just like she tried to pretend she didn’t hear the radiators rattling to life.

“And Dad…” She hesitated. “I think I should take a look at the finances. Just to get a better idea of where things stand.”

Her dad stiffened, his back going straight. Cocoa let out a sharp bark, echoing his sentiments. “Things aren’t that bad. Guests will probably pick up in time…”

Madison walked over and patted his shoulder. “I know. And you’ve done a great job holding everything together. Truly. But I really want to do this. As a project. For me. Please?”

“Well, now…”

Madison knew he was softening. “Just think, once we get this place all spruced up, word will get around, and we’ll have to turn people away.”

Her dad chuckled. “Now you sound like your mother. She could always see the possibilities in any situation.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Madison leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Now I’m off to the attic to see what treasures I can find. Wish me luck!” She waved over her shoulder and headed upstairs.

The alarm on Madison’s phone went off, startling her. She blinked down at the screen—her interview with Kit was in ten minutes. How was that even possible? She had been organizing the totes in the attic by holiday. So far, she had only made it through Easter.

Madison stood up and walked toward the oval-shaped attic window, which had been her favorite as a child.

Dust motes floated lazily through the sunlight streaming in from the window, turning the cluttered space into something magical.

The inn had always been bustling with guests coming and going, but the attic had been her own secret spot—a place where no one could bother her.

It smelled just the same, too. It was a mix of cedar wood and a trace of cinnamon that seemed baked into the walls.

Madison could still picture the checkered fleece blanket she’d lay out in the sunlight from the south-facing window and the tea party she’d have with her dolls and stuffed rabbit. Gram never seemed to mind that her shortbread went missing at an alarming rate.

She’d had her first kiss with Zach under that window.

It had been so soft and innocent. They were only twelve.

She’d been showing him the best hide-and-seek places around the inn, and the next moment, they were entirely alone.

For the first time in their lives, it had been just the two of them.

No Liam. No Jackson. No Emily. Just them.

Zach had held both of her hands, and they’d leaned in, like they’d watched people do in the movies. Madison still remembered Zach holding his breath. The whole thing had probably only lasted two seconds. But it had sealed their fate. From then on, they’d been inseparable.

The wood creaked under her footsteps. The attic was full of hidden memories and treasures.

The paintings her dad had collected from garage sales, extra furniture for the rooms, nightstands stacked against the walls, and an antique desk she was fairly certain hadn’t been used for decades—yet the space still felt warm and cozy.

It was organized up here, her mother’s doing. The decorations would’ve been too, if she hadn’t gotten sick…

“Madison, are you up there?” Gram’s voice called out.

“Yes, I’ll be down in just a second!”

“Oh, good. There’s someone down here who says she has an interview with you. I’m not sure who’s more excited—her or Cocoa.”

“She’s here early,” Madison muttered as she left the totes and headed down to the lobby.

The first thing she saw was Cocoa—rolling over onto her back, her tail wagging wildly as an unfamiliar woman scratched her belly.

Kit was petite, with dark hair cut into a bob that fell forward while she leaned down.

She wore a red wool coat over dark jeans and a plain black t-shirt, a pop of color against the muted tones of her outfit.

Her black high-top Converse peeked out beneath the cuffs of her jeans, giving her a playful edge.

“Aren’t you a gorgeous little girl?” Kit cooed, laughing as Cocoa squirmed with delight. She leaned in, letting the pup lick her chin. “Oh, I know what you’re after. You want some kisses? Is that what this is about?”

Kit must have been a dog lover, or she never would’ve been able to handle the amount of slobber Cocoa was dishing out.

“You must be Kit,” Madison said, striding across the lobby.

“I am! It’s so good to meet you.” She grinned, extending her hand. “Hope you don’t mind a little bit of puppy love.”

“Not at all,” Madison replied, accepting the handshake.