Lucy covered her face with her mitten. “I regret ever speaking to either of you.”
But she was smiling. A real, unguarded smile that caught me off guard.
When the last light was strung, we all stood together at the edge of the yard. The snow fell thick and steady now, softening the edges of everything. The inn glowed behind us, every crooked bulb and faded shutter turned beautiful in the light.
William wrapped an arm around Helen’s shoulders. “Not bad, honey. For a half-ruined money pit.”
“It’s an investment in joy,” she said, leaning into him.
Braxton and Jane exchanged shy smiles near the porch. Kitty snapped a photo on her phone. Meri muttered about frostbite. And Lucy stood beside me, quiet and still, watching the lights.
She rubbed her hands together for warmth. “You know, for someone who hates chaos, you’re fitting in.”
“I adapt,” I mentioned.
“Is that your secret superpower?” she asked, tongue in cheek.
“Adaptability and tragic cheekbones.”
She laughed again, the sound soft and genuine. “I’ll give you that one.”
The light caught her face, the faintest color rising in her cheeks. The cold bit in the air between us, but I barely felt it. The glow from the inn shimmered across the snow like a promise.
For the first time in a long time, I didn't feel like a man standing in a place he didn't belong.
Chapter Seven: Reservations and Revelations
Lucy.
For the first time all week, the inn was quiet. Morning sunlight streamed through the lace curtains of the kitchen, turning the table into a small island of calm. I sat with my coffee, a stack of expenses, and a hopeful heart. The wainscoting was sanded, the holes filled and ready for paint. We had dusted and cleaned the wallpaper and decided it was serviceable.
Plus it was a lot cheaper to keep it than replace it. If only soap, water, and some scrubbing power could fix our finances, we would be in good shape. I sighed over the numerous online estimates for electrical work and roofing.
I flipped my planner open and wrote Inspection in neat blue ink. Two months from now I estimated that we would finally be ready. I had blocked off all the tasks in neat little rows in my planner of when each item would likely be completed and come up with a date two months from now.
Jane looked up from the counter, where she was popping some muffins out of their tin so they could be placed on a cooling rack. “You’re smiling.”
“I’m feeling optimistic. I’m hopeful that as long as the money doesn’t run out, we can start booking in about two months,” I replied.
She grinned. “Imagine guests actually paying to stay here. It still seems surreal with all that green shag waiting to go into the dumpster.”
"That's going to be so satisfying to get rid of. Did you know Braxton pulled up a corner of the carpet in the reception room and said there was hardwood flooring underneath? There’s a chance we might get away with simple repairs, sanding, and refinishing. I’m so happy for our budget,” I mentioned with a relieved sigh. Just the thought of replacing all that flooring was costly and time consuming.
A voice rang down the hallway like a trumpet blast. “Good morning, family and accidental bystanders!”
I nearly spilled my coffee. Kitty burst into the kitchen, hair wild from sleep, wearing a sweater that could have doubled as a blanket. She waved her phone triumphantly in one hand.
“You won't believe what I did!” she declared.
I groaned. “That sentence never ends well.”
“Oh, ye of little faith,” she said, sliding into the chair across from me. “I solved all our financial problems.”
Jane froze. “Kitty, what did you do?”
“I listed the inn online! There is this adorable local booking site called StayInnASmallTown.com, and they were looking for new properties. So I uploaded photos, wrote a charming description, and bam! Our first guests arrive Friday!” she said brightly.
I blinked. “Friday as in… this Friday?”
