Page 6 of Wynns of Change (Wynn Harbor Inn #3)

Five years earlier.

“The papers are in a manila folder on the desk.” Ginger Wynn tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and gazed at her husband, noticing new creases on his face, what she called “worry lines” etched on his forehead.

The last six months had taken their toll.

Wynn Harbor Inn’s plummeting room reservations, which meant a dip in income, the notice from the IRS about opening an investigation.

Both weighed heavily on the couple’s minds.

Factored in were their recent arguments over scaling back and working less. Ginger wasn’t getting any younger. Neither was David. Keeping the current pace and wearing so many hats had aged them both.

But her husband, a proud man who lived and breathed his beloved inn, refused to consider hiring someone to manage it, giving them a much-needed break.

Harlow was spreading her wings with a promising career in modeling and movies. It was only a matter of time before she left the island. Their small nest was almost empty.

Ginger wanted nothing more than to enjoy their golden years, enjoy the fruits of their labor. Instead of planning for the future, they were saddled with a problematic inn. If she had her way, they would sell it lock, stock and barrel, buy something smaller and live happily ever after.

The couple's polar opposite vision of what their future looked like had become a sore spot. Only days earlier, they’d gotten into a huge argument, one of the worst she could ever remember.

Ginger found David seated at his desk. When pressed, he confessed he was having chest pains.

His doctor had warned him that he needed to reduce his stress or he was headed to an early grave.

When she finally got up enough nerve to throw down the gauntlet: Choose me or Wynn Harbor Inn, he clammed up, refusing to discuss it.

It was then she knew she was engaged in a losing battle.

Ginger packed a suitcase and moved into the small manager’s apartment. On the surface, they still functioned as a team. On a personal level, husband and wife were miles apart.

Until the other day, when David showed up on her doorstep with a bouquet of her favorite flowers and an invitation to dinner. A small sliver of hope welled up in Ginger.

“Thank you for inviting me to dinner.” She sipped her drink, eyeing her husband over the rim of her glass. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” David gruffly replied. “I got to thinking about the doctor and what you said. Do you really think it’s possible for us to find a way to compromise?”

“Carving out more time and letting someone else help with running the day-to-day operations?” she asked.

He nodded, noting the look on his wife’s face.

Ginger was as miserable as he was. Both knew they had nothing to hide from the IRS.

Their books were in perfect order. Yes, they had some overdue taxes and a few expenses the agent had red-flagged, but David had scraped together the money and planned to ask for the penalty to be waived. The discrepancies could be explained.

If they budgeted carefully, they would have enough to make it through until the height of tourist season kicked in and they could replenish the funds.

“It’s what I want, what we need,” Ginger replied. “We aren’t getting any younger. Wouldn’t it be nice to spend more time on Winnie, go fishing when we want, maybe even take a real vacation?”

David reached across the table. “Let’s do it, Ginger. We can make it work. We’re a team.”

“A team.” She squeezed his hand.

The rest of the dinner conversation was easy talk, about Harlow, about going fishing. After it ended, David asked his wife to return home. “You belong here, with me. We’ll hire a manager. As part of their package, they can live in the manager’s unit.”

“Tomorrow, after I pack and clean the place up.” Ginger covered her mouth to hide her yawn. “It’s past my bedtime.”

David escorted his wife back to the lodge. After a brief word with the clerk on duty, he took the long way home, a long walk to clear his head. He and Ginger would be okay. They always found a way to work through their issues.

Maybe she was right. Maybe it was time to slow down, to let someone else do the heavy lifting, yet not step away completely. There was no way he would turn his beloved inn over to someone else.

Harlow’s career was skyrocketing. He and Ginger should enjoy what they had. They both worked hard, and he was relieved to hear she planned to return home.

A beam of bright light flashed off in the distance. At first, he thought a storm was rolling in. A closer check of the night skies—clear and filled with stars—meant the flash wasn’t lightning.

It wasn’t unusual to see lights. Guests regularly roamed the grounds after dark, couples taking a romantic stroll down by the bay, families catching up and congregating by the pool after hours.

Dismissing it as a guest, David finished his walk, backtracking past the lodge. He noticed the lights were on in the manager’s unit.

Because Ginger was typically an early to bed, early to rise person, he was surprised to see the lights blazing brightly through the clerestory windows. She had mentioned working on a project during dinner. When pressed, his wife had pointedly changed the subject.

The flash of bright light beamed again, followed by a metallic clanking sound.

Thinking someone might be lost or need help, David changed direction and began following the light.

As quickly as it flashed, it was gone. He wasn’t able to track it down, so he finally gave up, returned home and climbed into bed.

He fell fast asleep until the sound of an alarm and sirens woke him. Bolting upright, he ran to the window.

“The lodge!” Flames filled the skies around the inn’s main building.

A surge of adrenaline ran through him. David raced toward the stairs, nearly colliding with Harlow in the hallway.

“The lodge is on fire! Where’s Mom?”

“I’m not sure.” He flew down the stairs and flung the front door open, stopping in his tracks at the horrifying scene unfolding. Fire. Flames. Smoke.

“Dad.” Harlow pushed past him and repeated her question. “Where is Mom?”

David started to feel lightheaded. Ginger. Ginger was inside the lodge. As if in slow motion, he ran down the street. Cutting through the gardens, he raced toward the building. As he drew closer, the flames and smoke forced him back.

Sucking in the thick smoky air, he screamed at the top of his lungs. “Ginger!”

Unable to see clearly in the dark, David tripped and fell. Scrambling to his feet, he took off toward the unit’s side door. Once again, the fiery inferno forced him back.

Small clusters of guests huddled off to the side. The fire alarms wailed loudly. Water from the lodge’s sprinkler systems was no match for the massive flames.

Fire trucks, alerted by the automated sprinkler system, arrived within minutes. Forcing himself to focus, David took a headcount of the guests. A sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach when he discovered Ginger wasn’t among those who had escaped.

During the chaos, he’d lost track of Harlow. Working his way around the building, he finally found his daughter. She stood near the covered patio, as close as she could get to the unit her mother was in. Dazed and with a stunned look of disbelief etched on her face.

“Did you find Mom?” she whispered.

“Not yet. I can’t get close.” David took off again, thinking by some miracle Ginger had made it out. More than once, he tried getting inside the unit. Each time, the firefighters and flames forced him back.

He kept circling around and around, praying for a miracle, desperately searching for a spot the fire hadn’t touched yet, until there was no hope left. Wynn Harbor Inn was now fully engulfed.

David’s steps dragged. He moved in slow motion in the direction of the covered patio where he knew Harlow stood waiting, hoping and praying for a miracle.