Page 7

K ate frowned, disappointed in herself. This was her inn, her home. She was fixing it up to bring in guests to stay, and she was afraid of her own freaking basement. It was ridiculous. If she was the innkeeper with a capitalI, she needed to know every nook and cranny of her own inn.

Kate stared down the long hallway leading to the back of the house.

She had thoroughly cleaned the space under the stairs to the right, so she could use it for storage.

Now she needed to open her basement door and explore down there.

Yes, she had walked through the basement with the Realtor before she bought the inn.

But the process of purchasing her first property had been overwhelming, and she hadn’t paid the basement much attention.

She remembered it as dank and fusty, not her kind of place.

Kate shivered, but with a determined breath she started resolutely down the hall, only to veer left into her kitchen.

“Coward,” she muttered, and opened a cupboard to pull out a plastic bowl and fill it with water.

Next, she retrieved a small bag of dry cat food she had picked up the day before and filled a second plastic bowl.

If mystery cat hid in the basement, maybe putting out food and water would draw kitty into the open.

Clutching both bowls, she stepped carefully, so as not to spill, and headed toward her basement. Once at the door, she faltered.

“Don’t be a coward.” It was probably wasted effort.

Surely the cat was getting in while the workman tromped to and from their trucks.

Again Kate swerved off, this time toward the back porch.

She could set the bowls at the edge of the courtyard.

She bit her lip. Unless the free kibble invited other creatures to feast. She didn’t need to feed a family of raccoon—or, worse, rats.

Kate chewed her lip in frustration. She hated being ridiculous.

Still, making her way into the basement with her hands full suddenly struck her as a really bad idea.

Then again, neither did she need wildlife in the courtyard, so…

she sucked in a breath. Determined to brave her fears, she stomped back inside and went straight to the basement door, set the bowls down, and opened it.

The door creaked eerily on rusty hinges.

Tingles traveled up her spine, and she made a note to oil the hinges later this afternoon.

She stared into the darkness and waited.

Nothing happened.

No cat ran past. No boogie man jumped out. No weird noises emanated from the thick darkness. Kate released a slow breath. Everything was fine.

“Fine, fine, fine.”

She picked the bowls up and eased her way inside. Flicking on the light with the back of her hand, she peered into the cavern beyond.

“Innkeeper with a capitalI,” she said. “I am the innkeeper with a capitalI. I am amazing, and I can do this.” She took one step down onto the stairs and then another and another.

She was committed now, committed to stepping down the stairs to catch the mystery cat and to finding out once and for all if it lived in her basement.

But then her mind took off. It delighted in imagining everything that could go wrong.

What if the cat got in and out through the basement?

What if possums smelled the food and moved in?

“Stop. Innkeeper with a capitalI.”

Kate tread halfway down the stairs. Suddenly a loud pounding, louder than the pounding of her heart, made her jump and fling dry cat food everywhere as she managed to slosh water down the front of her shirt.

“Ugh.”

Disgusted, she dropped the bowls, which proceeded to bounce merrily down the remaining stairs. She brushed at the water on her shirt, now dotted with dampened pieces of kibble.

With a sigh, she trudged back up the stairs and ignored the fact that she was secretly relieved to be deterred from her purpose.

Still brushing at her T-shirt, concerned with impressions she would make if another would-be guest waited at the front door seeking to book a room, Kate took a steadying breath, stood straighter, and opened the door.

“Hi.” A tall, lean man with short auburn hair stood on her doorstep. He looked vaguely familiar, and when he gave a wry smile, Kate’s heart took a little leap. “Sorry to show up unexpectedly.”

She smiled back. It was hard not to at his open expression. “It’s okay.” Even to her own ears, she sounded a bit too breathless.

He nodded. “My granddad’s on a mission.”

She looked past his shoulder to see Seymour Throckmorton exit the cab of a very large U-Haul.

“Miss Mayfield,” he bellowed.

“Please, call me Kate. What can I do for you?”

“I brought your furniture.”

“My…furniture?” She flashed a confused look at the man on her doorstep, hoping for an explanation. He shrugged.

Seymour continued, “Yes, the period pieces for your inn. They were stored at Agate Point. I forgot to mention it yesterday when I saw you at the tea shop.”

“My…furniture.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” he said briskly. The younger man gave his grandfather a disbelieving glower.

Kate tilted her head, trying to gauge the dynamic going on between them. “I don’t have furniture.”

“Only because it was at my home.” Seymour threw a pinched-lip warning glance at his grandson, who rolled his eyes and shook his head before turning back to her.

“I’m sorry. Let me introduce myself. I’m Rory…”

“Throckmorton,” finished Seymour with a grin, “come to town for a visit. So, my Margot…”

Kate knew she looked perplexed.

“His wife, who died,” Rory explained in a low voice.

“…was storing the inn’s furniture at our home, you know,” he coughed, “during the inn’s turbulent years when it was empty and abandoned.”

“Empty because Grandma took all the furniture,” Rory murmured loud enough for his granddad to hear.

Seymour scowled at him and continued. “She didn’t want the pieces to be damaged. Such beautiful craftsmanship…well, you’ll see.” He raised his voice to bark. “Rory, let’s unload.”

Rory closed his eyes as if in prayer. “I hope this is all right,” he said to her. “There really is no stopping him when he’s like this. Just let me know where to place each piece, and I’ll make sure it goes where you want it.”

Kate followed the two men to the back of the U-Haul. Rory rolled up the door with a flourish.

Kate gasped.

Floor to ceiling, the back of the U-Haul was packed with beautiful wood furniture.

“All the pieces are from the eighteenth century. And they’ve been well-lov….” Seymour trailed off, then coughed, “well-cared for. My Margot wouldn’t do any less than keep an antique in pristine condition. I promise you, she took excellent care of your furniture.”

Kate couldn’t fathom why Seymour kept calling it her furniture. There had been no furniture included in the sale of the inn. That she would have remembered.

The two men pulled out the base of a highboy dresser. Kate had done her research on period furniture and knew immediately that it was valuable.

“Tell us where you want it,” said Rory.

Shoving all hesitation aside at accepting this astonishing windfall with no questions asked, she said, “Second floor, first bedroom on the right.” Questions could come later. Right now, she’d welcome this miracle with joy.

So it began. The highboy base was followed by the top with all the drawers. Bed frames and cedar hope chests. Eight bedside tables and a single dining table that could easily seat twelve.

And then a multitude of chairs: Captains’ chairs and padded chairs clearly recently reupholstered in muted calico. Six leather wingback chairs that made Kate catch her breath. She directed Rory to place two in the downstairs drawing room and one each in the larger guestrooms.

She really hoped she could afford everything she was looking at in awe. Surely Seymour wasn’t bringing it to her for free. She had money set aside to purchase furniture, so she could willingly negotiate a deal with the eccentric old man once it was inside her inn.

Her heart fluttered in excitement at this boon.

Yes, it fluttered at this magnificent blessing, not at how easily lean, muscular Rory Throckmorton hefted each piece with a mere modicum of assistance from her and Seymour.

Rory was tall, strong, and, well…a whole lot of wow.

The sense that she should know who he was tugged at the back of her mind.

He definitely looked familiar to her, but maybe she had seen him in town.

She certainly didn’t know everyone, even though Ivy assured her it was only a matter of time before she was familiar with the entire population of Hazard, Rhode Island.

Once all the pieces were placed, Kate got down to business. “Seymour, thank you so much. This is extraordinary. I don’t even have enough words to express my gratitude.”

Seymour flushed in embarrassment, looking everywhere but at her face.

“What do I owe you for all of this? Now that it’s inside, I hope we can agree on…”

“It’s yours. All of it. Yours. It always was. Margo was just storing it for you. He emphasized storing . “So it wouldn’t be ruined. That’s all.” His eyes rolled wildly, like he was desperate that she take him at his word.

“Yours, all yours. I need to return the U-Haul.” He turned to hustle back to the box truck.

“I can drive it back, Granddad.”

“No, no, I drove it when I picked it up. It’s easy to drive empty. You’re staying here now, anyway.”

“What?” Rory narrowed his eyes at his grandfather and stated decisively. “I’m staying with you.”

“No, no, I told you. I don’t have anywhere for you to sleep, just that old lumpy couch, and the Boy Scouts are hauling it off tomorrow for their clubhouse. The furniture’s all here now.” He gave Rory a wide-eyed, pleading look.

Rory gave him an annoyed, pointed look back. “Don’t do this.”