Page 27

I t was obvious to Rory that Kate had settled into her tasks for Endeavor Street.

By the next morning, she’d presented the press releases for his review and set up a Zoom meeting with Nolan, during which she and Nolan discussed procedures for moving forward.

Rory recognized that he was now superfluous.

Kate had it all under control. He didn’t even need to be part of it.

It was out of his hands, and he should be glad.

But stalker-girl following him to town was a problem.

“I’ll leave Hazard.” The words just popped out of his mouth, followed by a moment of startled silence.

“No,” said Nolan, with all the patience of explaining something to the simple-minded. “ You will lay low and write songs.”

“She found me.”

“And if you run, she’ll find you again. Stay put. Write songs. Katrina and I have this handled.”

Frustrated, Rory grabbed his jacket and launched himself out the front door.

He trudged along Hazard Street, kicking up leaves and stomping them into bits with each step forward.

Wishing he’d brought the gloves Kate gave him, he shoved in his hands into his pockets.

Maybe if he could find Sunny Briscoe, he could talk sense into her.

Instead, he found Whitney Hopewell putting up signs for her run for mayor.

Rory stopped and watched as she pounded a sign into the lawn in front of the realty office. When she looked up and dusted her hands, he grinned. “Don’t you have campaign staff for that?”

“I do. But they’re not here.” She peered through her glasses, and her lips tipped in a smile. “Want to give me a hand?”

Grateful for the distraction from his own problems, Rory said, “Sure.” They walked companionably, working their way around the square putting up posters and signs at local businesses that supported her candidacy. “You’ll be terrific,” he told her.

“Thanks. You’re pretty terrific too. What brings you out here today?”

“Ah…”

“Problem with the valiant innkeeper?”

“Why would you say that?”

“I heard about your meeting in the tea shop.”

“Already? It was yesterday.”

Whitney shrugged. “Welcome back to Hazard. My advice?”

“I’ll take it.”

“Go spend some time with her.”

Simple and to the point. That was Whitney. “Kate doesn’t want that. Her dad turned me into a client. Long story, but now that’s all I am to her.”

“I don’t believe that for an instant and neither do you. If nothing else, you’re a guest in her inn and her friend. Kate Mayfield needs friends.” With a knowing smile, Whitney gave him a wave and turned left to head down the street to the library.

Rory took his time walking back, thinking about what she’d said.

How could he be a friend to Kate? What would be the best way to help her?

He slipped into the inn and could hear her talking on the phone—not with her work crews, but solving his problems, setting up yet another podcast interview.

One that his bandmates would attend without him.

He’d been left out of the rotation. Write songs, Nolan had said, like it was just that easy.

Songwriting had never been easy. Being creative never came easy, but it was a compulsory part of who he was at heart.

So Rory sat down at the piano and began to play.

A little ditty trailed through his mind, and he picked out the notes.

Within moments it transformed into the tune from the musical score. Fine , he thought, and fell into it.

The music flowed out of him. He ignored the fact Kate had told him it was too risky to perform with her at the Harvest Festival.

Instead, he focused on the score in front of him.

He practiced until he had his part of the duet down to perfection.

The trick, of course, would be merging his part with Kate’s.

Could they work that well together? Now, after her father had inserted himself between them and upset the rapport they had built?

He bet they could. If they could get back to where they’d been, they could move forward. All it would take was…

Kate slid onto the bench beside him, and he instantly relaxed.

The heat from her body flowed into him. “I shouldn’t encourage this,” she murmured, but he felt her hip pressed against his, and when she set her fingers on the keys beside him and began to play, nothing ever felt so right.

Music flowed from their fingers, right up until they got near the end.

Once again, the notes jumbled up. Their hands got tangled up together. They bumped into each other, tried to crisscross their hands to reach their notes, but collided. Discord finally brought them to a standstill.

Kate let out an exacerbated sigh and dropped her hands in her lap. “Ugh, it’s impossible. I don’t think it can be played together at all, not that last bit anyway.”

Rory shook his head. “I’ll figure it out. Maybe I’ll redo the parts at the end. I’ll play yours and you play mine.” When Kate refused to meet his eyes, Rory almost laughed. It had sounded suggestive. “Trust me. I’m trusting you.”

“I’m good at what I do.” Kate said defensively, no longer talking about the music.

“I know,” Rory said softly, “and when you finish with my problem—and I know I can’t convince you to leave me to my own devices or tell your dad to take a hike—so when you solve all my looming scandal glitches, you will still be good at what you do, and that’s this inn.

It will be amazing, Kate. I know it will.

” She met his eyes. He could see how much she needed the encouragement.

She might be assured in her former role, but she was still building her confidence as an innkeeper.

“And what will be the absolute most fun is…”

Kate blinked at him. “What?”

He tilted his head and grinned. “Halloween! Are you ready? Because trick-or-treaters will start arriving in about an hour and a half.”

“Oh, I, yes! I need to get ready.” She jumped up. “I picked up the treats earlier this afternoon. I just need to get dressed and do my hair. I can’t believe I forgot that was tonight!”

“Go get ready. I’ll set the scene down here and then get into costume.”

“Set the scene?”

“You’ll see.”

*

Wondering what Rory meant by that, Kate dashed upstairs and took a quick shower.

She wanted to wash off her day as Katrina.

Yes, she was good at that job, but she needed a moment to reset her equilibrium.

Tonight was her first staging of the inn for visitors.

Even though they wouldn’t be coming inside, she needed to create the right impression.

So as she washed away the stress of the day and primped and powdered and transformed herself into an eighteenth century woman, she pondered again what Rory had meant by setting the scene.

Twisting her hair into a partial updo with loose curls tumbling down in the back and around her face, she studied herself in the mirror.

She used light makeup to enhance her eyes, making them appear large and luminous.

She powdered her complexion smooth and lightly rouged her cheeks and added just a touch of pink to her lips.

She stepped back to view herself in the full-length mirror.

The sea-blue of the striped gown gave her a sense of calm, despite the tightness of her laces.

But she stood tall and took a breath, adjusting the lace at her neck and wrists.

With one last touch, she added the lace-trimmed cap to her hair and blinked at her reflection.

She belonged to the past dressed like this.

She belonged in her inn, her home, the very home that had stood tall for centuries.

Oh, how she loved belonging to both past and present.

After lacing up her little boots, she fairly glided down the staircase and caught her breath.

Rory had turned off all the electric lights.

The inn was lit solely by candlelight. He had hung lanterns from ceiling hooks along the hallways, and candles flickered as she stepped down the stairs into the foyer.

She followed the sound of music to the parlor to find Rory dressed as a rebel soldier, playing classical music on her piano.

He must have heard her light steps because he turned and his fingers stilled.

“Breathtaking,” was all he said.

“Thank you. The lighting is…perfection. Surely you don’t plan to play the piano all night?”

“No, I cheated. I made a recording earlier this week.” He clicked his phone, and she could tell it was of him playing her piano.

“That’s lovely. I’ll grab the treats.” Kate glided her way to the kitchen and arranged the cookies that she’d picked up from the tea shop.

On a silver platter she arranged molasses crinkles, cinnamon chocolate chip, and pumpkin spice sugar cookies in individual sealed plastic packages with Ivy’s logo on them, hoping the display would be unique and memorable.

“And here I was hoping for full-sized candy bars, and you’ve outdone even that.”

“Well, I had help.” Kate shook her head and grimaced. “I still need baking lessons.”

The doorbell chimed. “Oh!” Kate hustled to the door, took a breath, and opened it up.

“Trick or treat!” shouted a tiny fairy princess, Spider-man, and a toddler ladybug.

Kate exclaimed over their costumes and let them pick one cookie each before waving to their parents on the sidewalk.

And so it began. The door chimed throughout the night, the children getting progressively taller as the evening wore on, transitioning from cute little superheroes to vampires, Freddy Krueger and Ghostface.

When the numbers dwindled, and the cookies began to run out about nine, Kate turned out the porchlight and motioned Rory to come back to the kitchen with her.

“What would you like? I have two left,” she asked him as she set about brewing a pot of her special tea blend made for the inn.

“Pumpkin spice or cinnamon chocolate chip?” When he hesitated, she said, “Really, choose.”