“Can't. Roads are probably flooded by now. I'll wait it out.”
So he joined their strange storm party. Pop woke periodically, confused but calm. Amy dozed in a chair with the practiced ability of someone used to broken sleep. Dani curled up on the couch, Tom worked on his laptop even at four in the morning, and James told stories about what it was like to grow up in the seaside coastal town of Kennebunkport, Maine.
Kate found herself sitting next to Ben on the floor by the fireplace, their backs against the couch, sharing a blanket Dani had thrust at them. The fire crackled, the storm raged, and the inn held steady around them.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “For coming. For the tree.”
“You don't have to thank me for that.”
“Yes, I do. You didn't have to come.”
“Yeah,” he said softly, “I did.”
The weight of what he meant sat between them. Kate could feel the warmth of his shoulder against hers. It would be so easy to lean into him, to rest her head on his shoulder, to let herself be held through the storm.
Instead, she sat rigidly upright, maintaining that last inch of distance.
Dawn came slowly, gray and watery, the storm finally beginning to exhaust itself. Through the windows, they could see the devastation, trees down everywhere, debris scattered like toys, the harbor churned brown with runoff. But the inn stood, damaged but not broken, still sheltering them all.
Ben stood to leave as soon as the winds died down enough to be safe. At the door, he turned back to Kate.
“The oak would have fallen anyway,” he said. “But it didn't have to fall on the inn. Sometimes you can't prevent the falling, but you can change where things land.”
After he left, Kate stood in the doorway watching his truck navigate the debris-strewn road. Dani appeared beside her, wrapped in a blanket, looking younger without her usual polish.
“He came here in a storm for you,” Dani said.
“He came to check the property.”
“Katie. He came for you.”
The morning light was gaining strength, revealing the full extent of the storm's damage. There would be insurance calls to make, repairs to arrange, a massive tree to remove.
But for now, Kate stood in the doorway of the inn that had survived another storm, watching Ben's taillights disappear, feeling the warmth on her shoulder where he'd sat beside her, and wondering if maybe some things were worth letting fall.
Pop's voice drifted from the sunroom, talking to Amy about boats and storms and Elizabeth coming home soon. The generator hummed. Her siblings moved through the inn doing helpful things. And Kate remained in the doorway, caught between the warm, chaotic interior and the storm-cleaned world outside, still maintaining that crucial inch of distance from everything that might hurt her.
But the distance was getting harder to hold.
CHAPTER 14
The insurance adjuster arrived at seven-thirty the next morning while Kate was still clearing branches from the parking area. His name was Paul Leavitt, and he had the harried look of someone who'd been assessing storm damage for the past twelve hours straight. He walked around the fallen oak with a tablet, taking photos from every angle, occasionally making small sounds of dismay.
“That's a big tree,” he said finally, which seemed like an understatement.
“It missed the building,” Kate pointed out. “The damage is minimal.”
“Lucky.” He photographed the scraped siding, the broken windows. “Could've been much worse. You have someone who can remove it?”
“Yeah, I think so. I’ll figure it out.”
Paul looked at her over his glasses. “Kate, that tree's going to cost five thousand minimum to remove. Maybe more. It's not a DIY situation.”
Five thousand they didn't have, even with Lillian's money covering the mortgage and repairs. The trust funds werespecific: Pop's care and essential inn repairs. Tree removal probably didn't qualify as essential.
“I said I'll figure it out.”
He put his hand up as if to give up. “Okay.”
