“I can show you,” Holly offered.
Curiosity growing, he followed Holly through the lobby to the little sitting area. Once more he found himself sinking into an armchair as Holly took the one adjacent. Between them sat an old steamer trunk, the kind you only saw at antique fairs or museums. It appeared to have been assigned the job of coffee table, but he watched as Holly removed a set of keys from her pocket and inserted one into the latch. With a click and a pop, she lifted the creaky lid to reveal a small trove of items at the bottom.
Ezra leaned forward.
“This,” Holly said, lifting an album, “contains the only photo we have of the ship merchant’s daughter.” She opened to the first page. There, in a tattered black-and-white photo, Ezra recognized the old house right away, though its trim was painteda dark color and its door white. A solemn but smart-looking family lined up in front of it.
“This is Adeline.” Holly pointed to a little girl in a white dress, standing beside a handsome couple. Her blond head was pressed against her mother’s skirt. On the other side were two boys, a bit older, standing by the father. His eyes returned to the little girl: she had a large white bow in her hair.
“Adeline,” Ezra said. Holly closed the album and next retrieved a small box from the trunk. She opened the lid.
“This was found in the wall by my grandparents years ago.” Inside was a small white patent leather shoe with a stained ribbon. “I think this belonged to Adeline. She was the only daughter of the families that lived here before us.”
Ezra looked at the tarnished little shoe, trying to imagine the little foot that once filled it. “What happened to her?”
Holly pressed her lips together. “I don’t know. She’s buried at the Old North cemetery on Queen Anne Road. All we know is she died young, at age six.”
Ezra sat back in his chair. As Holly locked the trunk again, he looked over his shoulder across the lobby at the doorway to the parlor. Though he could not see the little goldfinch from there, he felt it flutter in his chest.
“I can help with your goldfinch,” Ezra said.
Holly looked up. “Excuse me?”
“I’m an artist.”
“I thought you were a doctor?” She regarded him quizzically.
“I am. Painting is just a hobby. But I’m quite good.” The words of his daughter’s gallery friend spilled from his lips. Never in his life had Ezra uttered them, and he couldn’t imagine what had gotten into him to allow it now, but the truth was the truth.“I can show you some of my work. If you decide I’m right for the job, I think I can help you with your goldfinch.”
This was not part of the plan. But again, Ezra was unprepared for the things he saw and felt at the inn. For the forgotten library with all that pink light, for the tiny yellow goldfinch on the wall, and, most of all, for the little white shoe.
Ezra’s awful plan was set for tomorrow, but it would have to wait. Just a bit longer. He would paint a goldfinch first.
Holly
Have you checked the mail?” Linus asked. The summer issue ofChatham Lifewas due, and Holly was desperate to get her hands on it. She had no idea which photo they’d chosen of her, and no idea what the final layout looked like, both things she’d hoped to get a preview of. Waiting to see it in print with everyone else who picked up a copy was proving torture.
“About ten times already today,” she replied snippily. “No luck.”
“Then I must be a four-leaf clover.” Linus dropped the magazine on the desk with a heartywhack. “Congratulations!”
Holly snatched it up. “Oh my God. We’re on the cover.” Right there, splashed across the front, was the view of Pleasant Bay from the Cranberry’s very own back patio. She threw her arms around Linus and shrieked. “We made the cover!”
Linus winced, putting a hand over his ear. “I can see that. Even if I can no longer hear. Well, don’t just gawk at the cover. Open it.”
She flipped through the first pages to the table of contents, and read aloud. “Page six. ‘New Keeper of a Next Chapter: A Tour of the Renovated Cranberry House.’?” Holly sighed happily. “Wait until Francine sees this.”
“AmIgoing to see it?” Linus asked impatiently.
“Hang on. I want to see which photo they used of me.”
“Why?” Linus threw up his hands. “It’s not like you can change it if you don’t like it.”
Ignoring him, Holly hurried to the sitting area and paged to their feature. There was a full-page photo of the inn, taken from the front with the hydrangea bushes in full bloom on either side of the cranberry-red front door. On the adjacent page, beneath the headline, was another photo of Holly sitting on the patio in one of their Adirondack chairs by the fountain. Through the treetops the bay glimmered. At least she wasn’t the focal point, she decided. The rest of the photos were interiors of the Harvest dining room and the Captain’s Suite guest room. They’d photographed beautifully. Holly exhaled with relief.
“Can I look now?” Linus called impatiently from the desk.
“Almost.” Quickly Holly read through the article, which was beautifully written and managed to capture all the highlights of the inn’s new offerings. Then she flipped the page.
