For the next half hour, Caleb and Ariel unlocked rooms filled with leather and wood chairs, benches, tables, nightstands, vintage artwork, brass lamps, and antique area rugs rolled up in perfect condition—and mattresses.
Caleb ran his hand over a silk-and-wool rug in shades of blue. “This is nothing like your gold doubloons, but I think these treasures might help us save the inn from extinction.”
Ariel’s eyes grew wide as she turned from admiring the portrait of a woman with a Victorian-era hairstyle and dress. “What if the Lord meant this as your contribution to the family legacy? Not to run daily operations but to restore this place and save it for future generations?”
He could see it.
Once again, she understood him, knew his heart. His mind raced as he considered the idea, and for the first time, it felt as if things might work out with the inn, with Granddad—even with Ariel.
Letting an experienced innkeeper manage the hotel and publicity while Caleb focused on restoration? It felt a little like heaven on earth.
Except it would mean someone other than a Kennedy would run the inn.
And what part would his music play in this theoretical new venture?
She laid her hand on his upper arm, the gesture that always made him believe he could do the impossible. The simple touch—her special touch—brought an ache to his chest. Helped him believe he might actually turn this place around against all odds. More than that, it warmed a spot so deep and cold within him, he’d thought it would remain forever frozen—a place he’d kept locked since the night his parents walked out the parlor door. A space he’d reinforced when his own brokenness had driven Stephanie away.
Caleb wouldn’t let it happen again.
This time, he’d make it work. He’d hire Josie, if it seemed right, and if she agreed. He’d take her advice and work to make this old heap successful. Then, no matter what happened, he’d take the next step. Whatever that was.
Regardless, he realized he wanted to take those steps with Ariel. Make a life with her. Wake up with her every morning.
Then with sudden clarity he hadn’t expected, he knew he wanted to settle down. Not just to have a wife, but to be a husband—to this woman. Not a man traveling from city to city, bunking with musicians in five-star hotels.
He made up his mind. Time to ask Ariel for a date.
“Would you consider—spending some time with me one evening soon? Alone?”
A soft look crossed her face. “A date?”
He nodded. Stepped closer.
Her soft intake of breath nearly stole his. “I’d love it.”
“You would?” A smile crept across his mouth. “You’re sure? Even if we have to sneak away from your aunt?”
“I’m sure.”
Caleb gazed first at Ariel’s pretty, delicate lips, then her blue eyes. “Ariel, I don’t know what I’ll do when you leave.”
He’d spoken the truth. He couldn’t imagine rattling around this place without her to ground him, steady him. To help him find his way out of this maze the Lord seemed to have dropped him into.
Maybe He’d done so because the maze was the only place where Caleb had to admit he was lost.
Thursday morning turned warm as Ariel descended the inn’s porch steps, the air feeling more like Tennessee than a northern island. The familiar warmth came with a longing.
For the first time, she wanted a home. Not Daddy’s farm and the comfortable house. Not the big white Greek Revival–style mansion she shared with Aunt Dahlia, with its twenty-six Tuscan columns and wide porches wrapping around it. Not Island House Inn.
No, she’d begun to wish for her own home. A comfortable setting where her imagination could run wild, where she could either shut out the world or invite it in at will. A place to share with others and a place to come back to and seek the Lord in the quiet. A home of her own, with soft colors and comfortable spaces and antique furnishings and décor.
Maybe her thoughts turned in this direction because of her low-level anxiety about her date.
But for now, she hurried down Main toward the Grand Hotel and its pretty white gazebo, where Dani would soon arrive with their picnic lunch.
When she got there, Dani waited on the bench inside the little Victorian-style structure with its twinkle lights still on fromlast night, her long blonde hair in a casual updo. “I’m amazed at your new freedom. I’ve never seen you in public without the watchdogs,” her cousin said as she handed Ariel a sturdy disposable plate.
She’d set a small tray of ham and smoked gouda sandwiches on Hawaiian rolls, a bowl of fruit salad, and cans of cold Dr Pepper and root beer on the bench between them. “I’m sorry Doreen fell and got hurt. But I’m glad you get to have a more normal life for a while.”
