“Sneaked?” Her laughter filled the room, its perfect acoustics turning the sound to silver. “That’s difficult on an island with only one escape route: the ferry.”
“You have to be creative. I forged a permission slip and slid right on that boat with the rest.”
“Why did you have to sneak?”
“Granddad insisted I stay home and play for the party, and my parents backed him. All the island locals were invited. But I thought it was unfair to make me stay home when my ensemble members needed me.”
Ariel ambled around the room and stopped at the front windows. Gazed out at the original entrance on what had become a side street a hundred or so years ago, with its giant cedars and an old, bubbling fountain. “Couldn’t you play both events?”
“I thought so at the time. But the ferry had mechanical problems, and we got home after dark. Granddad berated me in front of all the kids who’d gone to the contest, plus the music teacher I loved.” That night held more than one kind of darkness. “He wouldn’t listen to my explanation, and he never looked at me the same again.”
Her beautiful eyes clouded. “If that happened to me, I’d fear making another wrong decision and hurting someone else. He damaged you that day by treating you so harshly. But that was wrong, then and now. Love and forgiveness don’t act like that. You don’t deserve it.”
“Maybe I do. Doesn’t matter, since that’s what I have to work with.”
“You say that as if he can’t change.”
He wanted to laugh but held it back. “At his age? Slim chance.”
“No, it’s not. ‘A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you: and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you an heart of flesh.’”
Yeah, he knew the Ezekiel passage. “It also says two verses down: ‘Ye shall dwell in the land that I gave to your fathers.’ Or in my case, the hotel.”
Her playful smile lit the room like the eighty-light chandelier. “Doesn’t count. It says ‘land,’ not ‘hotel.’” Then she sobered. “Does it help you to come in this room again?”
Caleb ambled over to the old grand entrance. The place he saw his parents leave and never come back. “It does, but it stirs up the question that always hovers in the back of my mind. Should I stay here and keep the family legacy alive, or should I sell the place and return to the work I love? And no amount of Ezekiel Scripture twisting on my part will help.”
Ariel trailed behind him, touched his shoulder. “Caleb, you need something to call your own. You had a band, but it was Drake’s band. You have an inn, but your grandfather still runs it. It’s your legacy, but if you don’t make it your own now, you never will.”
How did she know exactly what he needed, even before he knew?
The answer came quickly. Even though they’d met briefly before and they’d known each other only three days, she got him. Understood him in ways no one ever had, even his parents. Or Stephanie, the woman he’d hoped to spend his life with.
He pushed aside the thought, preferring to watch her discover—rather, rediscover—this section of the hotel. “I’d like to hear your good memory of this room.”
Her eyes sparkled. “I came here the evening Aunt Dahlia would come to take me to Nashville and make me a star. I was ten, and it snowed that day, the first snowfall of the season. Soaccording to island tradition, school let out for the afternoon. At dusk, we all came here for games and hot drinks and?—”
She smiled and sucked in a breath and held her arms out wide. “And it was the first time I ever had hot sweetened milk with whipped cream. Your mom gave it to me because I told her I didn’t care for chocolate.” Ariel dropped her arms and wandered to the polished antique table near one of the bookshelf walls. “I felt so loved that day, so seen because of her and because an older boy let me unlock the door and hold it open for everyone while he gathered firewood. Those keys fascinated me.”
He stepped closer, remembering. “Ariel, I was that boy.”
“Yes, you were.” She smiled that heart-stopping smile of hers.
“I remember wishing I could give these to you that night, since you loved them so much.”
“I wouldn’t mind holding them now.”
He gave them to her, and when his fingers brushed her hand, Ariel’s eyes grew wide, and she stepped back.
“What’s wrong?”
“I just realized what Aunt Dahlia and Doreen would do if they knew we were alone in here.”
Seriously? “It’s not a date, and it’s a public place, sort of. I left the door to the garden wing wide open.”
She nodded, a little of the unease leaving her eyes. “You’re right. It’s probably okay. Please don’t feel offended.”
“I’m not. Your aunt knew what she was doing when she protected you.” He glanced over at the piano. “Want to play something? I doubt Granddad has had it tuned since the day he locked the doors.”
