Page 8

“I have to return the truck by three p.m. Bye.” Seymour moved faster than Kate would have thought possible for such an elderly gentleman. The U-Haul roared to life and Seymour drove away, Rory staring after him.

“Son of a gun, he left me.”

“Why would he give me all this furniture?”

Rory smirked. “Because Grandma stole it, but I’m not supposed to tell you that.”

“She stole it? When?”

“Back when the Hazard Inn was falling down and abandoned. What he said is probably true. She knew the furniture was valuable and wanted it. So she took it. And since no one called her on it, she kept it.” Rory shook his head.

“Sorry, Grandma was a pistol. I just never knew she was a thief. I’m still trying to wrap my head around that. ”

“So, this furniture is really all mine? For free? No questions asked?”

Rory shrugged. “Well, it’s inside, so yeah, it’s yours. Better not to ask questions with my crazy old coot of a grandfather.” He frowned. “I guess I should go.”

“Wait, do you really have nowhere to stay?”

Rory gave a halfhearted shrug. “I’m not some charity case.

I’ll work something out with Granddad. Agate Point is huge.

If he really wants me somewhere else, I’d bet there’s probably a bunk in the back of his grocery store.

I’ll be all right. I can always stay in Newport and come visit him.

” Rory quickly took the steps and strode for the street.

“Wait.” Kate was overwhelmed by her sudden bonanza, but she refused to forgo her manners.

Besides the sense that she already knew Rory from somewhere, she was an innkeeper.

“Stay here, please.” It was the least she could do to give back to the family who had saved her a small fortune.

She’d be able to open weeks earlier now.

“Really, I mean it. Please stay. A couple of those beds came with mattresses, and they might not be authentic, but…”

“I’d say that’s a good thing.” Rory grinned at her. “I don’t think your guests would welcome a night on a 250-year-old-mattress.”

Kate laughed. “They do look new.”

“Yeah, well I’m pretty sure all this furniture wasn’t stored in an attic. I recognize most of it from spending summers at the mansion. Grandma got plenty of use from it before she died. My apparently klepto granny.”

Kate bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Good thing I have linens. Come on, you can pick a room.”

Rory followed her to the second floor. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, or to make you feel obligated.”

“I’m an innkeeper.” With a capitalI , she finished in her head.

“Why would I be uncomfortable having a guest in my inn? I’m holed up on the third floor for now.

Later, once renovations are complete, I’ll sleep in the back by the kitchen.

Why don’t you choose a room here on the second floor?

That’ll give us some distance. These two rooms in the front have finished bathrooms. We can pull in these mattresses standing up in the hall and set up the beds.

“I bet these frames were adjusted to a double and a queen. Looks like they had a bit of repair work done to make them standard modern sizes.”

“So not completely authentic, which is fine. I don’t want my inn to be museum quality. I need it to be comfortable.”

Together they set about making the two rooms habitable. It took another hour of rearranging dressers, chairs, and bedding. They worked companionably, saying little.

“Come on down to the kitchen. I have cold drinks.”

“You will let me pay you to stay here.”

Kate waved a hand.

“No, seriously, like I said before, I’m not a charity case. Honestly, I’m stunned Granddad would dump me off like this with no warning. I’m planning to stay in Hazard until mid-November. I can pay for the room.”

“You’re my first guest and renovations are an all day, everyday situation right now. I can’t charge regular rates. I’m not sure about charging yet at all, really.”

At the determined set to Rory’s face, she capitulated. “Fine, let me cut you a deal.”

They dickered back and forth until they agreed on a weekly rate, decidedly reduced from what Kate would charge going forward but hey—furniture. And, even if Seymour thought it was hers by right, it had not been included in her real estate sale.

They took their cold drinks and headed to the courtyard. Kate shivered as they passed the basement. She gave it a wary glance, and saw Rory raise his eyebrows. “That obvious?” she said.

Rory glanced back at the door. “Is that where the bodies are buried?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” She gave a nonchalant shrug even as her shoulders tensed at another raised brow from her new guest.

They settled into a couple of dark blue Adirondack chairs on the courtyard lawn.

“It’s the only part of the inn I haven’t explored,” admitted Kate.

“Oh, sure, I walked through the basement before I bought the inn, but I don’t know, it feels portentous somehow.

Like my whole future hinges on the space down there, if that makes any sense. ”

Kate waited as Rory stared at the drink in his hand. After a moment of silence, he said, “Is that why you bought the inn, because it’s your destiny?”

She heard the hesitation in his voice and wondered about it. Kate took a long drink. “This inn is my calling. Better than where I was headed before.”

Another raised brow.

“I worked for my father and needed to set out on my own.”

“Is he in the hospitality industry?”

“Not hospitality per se, but his work is a little bit like being a concierge. He has a lot of wealthy clients who need specialized services. I worked as something of a personal assistant and media consultant, subject to their whims. It’s a bit more complicated than that, but…”

“…not so far from catering to the needs of guests at an inn?”

“Exactly, but here it’s my inn, and I set the tone. I guess I’ll find out once I get this place up and running how much of my previous experience will come in handy. My goal was to open after the first of the year, but now, with all the furniture in place, I’d love to be open for the holidays.”

Kate’s mind filled with visions of holiday breakfasts and Christmas decorations.

Maybe even a Thanksgiving feast. Could she learn to bake well enough to host something so grand only a few weeks away?

With pies and cakes and cookies? Not to mention a turkey.

She had never in her life cooked a turkey, or even planned to.

That seemed beyond the scope of a B&B. But maybe she could team up with a local restaurant. She grinned at the thought.

“You look like you’re a million miles away, but in a happy place.”

“I’m imagining how great the Mayfield Inn will be.”

“Wait, you aren’t calling it the Hazard Inn?”

Kate shook her head. “Why would I? I don’t want to deter guests by making it sound dangerous. That would be almost as bad as calling it the Danger Guesthouse or Death Trap Hotel.”

Rory nodded in agreement, but Kate sensed he was holding back.

She laughed a little. “Who would want to stay in the Hazard Inn?”

“Not me.” His eyes got big. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.”

“You just proved my point exactly. Words are important. Names are important.”

Rory crossed his arms and leaned back as if studying her. She shifted under his scrutiny, suddenly self-conscious of her cat food-stained T-shirt. Way to make an impression, Katie, she thought to herself.

A half smile flitted over his very expressive face. “If you believe that, why did you move to Hazard?”

Kate gave him a wry smile of her own. “I know it sounds crazy, but I was drawn here. I was only passing through on my way from Newport to Manhattan when I stopped at the bakery. I took my coffee and my croissant and sat on that bench by the statue.”

Rory nodded. “I know the one.”

“It was still and warm outside, and all of a sudden a breeze kicked up and swirled the branches overhead…and I just felt like I belonged here. I took a little walk around the square. Kids were playing tag, and some guy was walking a little Scottie dog, and I just knew I was home. I was pondering how that could be. I’ve always lived in a large city, my whole life.

Then, when I walked past this place and saw the For Sale sign,” Kate shrugged.

“You knew.”

“It’s crazy, but I stood here and imagined what it would be like to be an innkeeper.

I figured it was just a harmless daydream, something to distract me before I headed into the city and back to my hectic life.

Then I strolled to the corner by this cute little realty office with a cheery red awning.

Without overthinking it, I stepped in and asked them to show me the inn.

By the end of the week, I’d made an offer. ”

“The only one, I bet.”

“No, actually, there was another interested party. I was given to understand he was very determined, but for some reason the owners accepted my offer instead. I think if they had waited, he might have countered and cut me out.” Kate shrugged.

“Sometimes it’s just meant to be.”

Kate nodded. “Anyway, I’m not sure why, but this town square with that green open space tugged hard on my heartstrings, and the wind, I really like wind.

It breathes life into a community. Also, the sea is close.

I prefer being near the ocean. I don’t like stuffy spaces.

And the way the wind whips through this community, well, I love it.

I think that’s what my basement needs. A good airing out. It needs a little more life down there.

“So nothing is living down there, then?”

“I hope not! I do worry about that.”

“Are there creepy noises? Creaking, groaning, chains rattling?”

“What, like in a Charles Dickens novel? Why would you ask that?” Kate half-smiled at the absurdity.

“You know, stories.” Rory gave a casual half-shrug, yet something in the tension around his eyes made the hair on the back of Kate’s neck stand at attention.

“What stories?”

Rory’s forehead creased. “You really don’t know, do you?”

Kate shook her head slowly.

“About the inn being a kind of focal point, where everything goes down.” Rory shook his own head. “I still can’t believe Granddad dropped me off here. Especially after what happened to me in high school.”

Kate got chills. What did everyone in town know about her inn?

And why was none of this part of the disclosures she’d been given when she bought it?

Had she been too rash? Moved too fast? Was there some massacre or uprising or terrible crime committed on what was now her property?

And yet, she loved it here. She loved her inn, even every inconvenient moment of its restoration.

“What happened?” She choked the words out.

Rory shook his head. “It was terrifying. Come on. This had to be part of the disclosures when you bought the inn.”

“No!” She was breathing fast.

“No? You really didn’t hear about the teenage boy who got trapped in here while it was boarded up?

Who fell down the stairs and lost consciousness?

Whose friends got so spooked by something, they took off and left him?

Something they would never speak of? How it was hours before the boy was found?

When he didn’t come home, a search began, but his so-called ‘friends’ refused to admit they’d been hanging out here and had abandoned him. ”

“Someone died in my inn?” Horrified, Kate nearly whispered it.

“Oh, no doubt,” Rory scoffed. “This place is ancient. There’re probably generations of people who breathed their last here. But no, I did not die in the inn. See, I’m right here,” he threw out his arms, “and I still can’t believe I’ll be sleeping tonight in the place of my worst teenage trauma.”

“You?” Kate blinked at him. “You were the boy?” she swallowed.

“You don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.

” She bristled. Despite being disturbed by what he was telling her, she remained strangely offended that anyone could find fault with her home.

She loved the vibe of the inn: warm, welcoming, with a hint of mystery.

Or maybe she was ridiculous. Maybe she’d been bewitched by the inn, the only hitch for her being the basement.

Everything else about it intimated coziness and security.

Odd that she had such a visceral reaction to the property, but it was why she purchased it in the first place, despite all the work needing to be done.

Slowly she met Rory’s eyes and realized he had been watching her as thoughts flitted through her brain.

He shifted in his chair, no longer relaxed, no longer joking. “Look, I don’t want to be the one to tell you this.”

She’d lost patience. She hated being kept in the dark, out of the loop. It’s what her father had done when she worked for him. He had always hidden the dangers involved, letting her in only on what he deemed necessary for her to know. She was through with all that. “Spit it out.”

Rory took a slow drink of the long-necked root beer in his hand. He shrugged. “Your inn is haunted.”