As she walked to the car, she tried to commit the moment to memory. The fresh scent of a Tennessee summer afternoon. The quiet coo of a dove. The strong hand wrapped around hers.
Ben opened her car door, and she turned to say she was sorry again, but the words stuck in her throat. This seemed very final. Cami looked up into Ben’s blue eyes and let her hand rest on his cheek. His close-trimmed beard was soft against her palm. She would miss him. She’d miss their connection.
He bent to her and pressed his lips to hers. A soft, gentle, goodbye kind of kiss.
Twenty-four hours had passed. Jack Bauer might be able to save the world in twenty-four hours, but Ben couldn’t seem to let go of the conversation with Cami.
When he’d pulled out the contract to give to her at Angelo’s, she’d seemed so surprised. He’d read that night all wrong. Rather than her excitement over the deal, had she been trying to figure out a way to tell him she no longer wanted the inn?
No longer wanted the inn.
Why hadn’t she told him if she’d known? He’d lost two precious weeks. He could have had a new buyer by now. Cami had been in a tough spot. Did it change how he felt about her? She’d been honest with him, and it wasn’t an easy conversation. He respected that. But the kiss before she left had felt like goodbye, and it had hurt to watch her drive away.
Sunday afternoon she’d texted the name of the couple in Georgia.
They are interested. Will check out the inn.
But could he sign over the inn to just any ole body? This put a whole new light on things. As much as he wanted the promotion Jim dangled in front of him, he wanted this inn to be in good hands. And those hands were his or Cami’s.
Standing in the middle of the lobby, Ben inhaled the familiar and welcoming scent of Walt’s snickerdoodle cookies. Soft piano music piped through the speakers. Two couples sat around a table in the dining area, drinking Walt’s coffee and enjoying the cookies. They’d checked in earlier, regaling him with stories of their past stays in the inn.
“Ben?” He turned to see Iris, the housekeeper. “The toilet in Room Eight won’t stop running. Can you please look at it? I’d call Ray but he’s off on Sundays. Also, the doorknob is loose, and the painting on the wall was down. It needs to be rehung.”
“Thanks, Iris. I’ll have to run to the barn to get some supplies. Can you sit at the desk until Myrtle May returns?”
The warm sun burned against his skin, the humidity thick, as he hurried to the barn. If he was going to keep this place, he’d make sure there were some tools in the inn so he didn’t have to trek out to the barn every time something was needed. He pulled at his collar as sweat dripped down his back. Especially in this heat.
Flowers swayed in the garden as the breeze whispered over the grounds. Overhead, thin wispy clouds drifted across the blue sky. Peaceful, tranquil, beautiful Hearts Bend, Tennessee, was vastly different than the hustle and bustle of Sydney.
Ben was almost to the barn when he heard a loud sneeze.
“Ray?” Ben followed another sneeze and found the gardener on his knees on a garden kneeling pad. His hands were covered in dirt with a trowel in hand, freshly planted lilies in a row in front of him.
“Iris said you were off today. What are you doing?”
“The preacher spoke on how the lilies neither toil nor spin but they are more regal than all of King Solomon’s garb. Made me think I needed to trust the Lord more with my life.”
“I’m right there with you, Ray.” Ben bent to examine the lilies. They were beautiful. And God took complete care of them with the sun, rain, and soil.
Wasn’t he at least as good as a lily?
“What brings you out to the barn today?”
“I needed a few things for Room Eight.”
“Ah, is the toilet acting up again? I think you’ll need to replace the flapper this time. I picked up a few from the hardware store last time I was there.” Ray clapped his hand on Ben’s shoulder. Little specks of dirt flew off and landed on the front of Ben’s shirt. He wiped it clean. “What’s on your mind? I can tell it’s more than toilets.”
“I was thinking of the lilies and how they don’t have to worry about anything.”
“Neither do you, Ben. Neither do you.”
“Easier said than done.”
“Want to tell ole Ray what’s going on?”
“Lots of things. Cami told me she isn’t buying the inn after all. So we’re back to ground zero. When I walked her out, we stopped in front of her mother’s painting. Ray, do you know what happened to the bench that used to be in the garden?”
“Can’t say offhand that I do. Why?”
