Page 2

“Not too small. Her stepbrother’s in town.”

The way he said “stepbrother” let Patience know the real reason he was going to see Kelsey. He wanted to check in but not only because of her loss. Kelsey had never gotten along with Kanon. Although her mother hadn’t married his father until their children were both adults—so they’d never lived in the same household—Kanon couldn’t get along with anyone. He had a chip on his shoulder a mile wide, was one of those boys her father had warned her about when she was growing up—along with Jack, who’d gotten her pregnant after a party when they were barely seventeen. She’d paid dearly for not listening to Carl’s advice when it came to Jack.

Actually, she wouldn’t have Ari without Jack, she reminded herself, so it was hard to regret being with him too much. What she regretted was that they’d had a child when they were still children themselves. She’d made so many mistakes as a teenage wife. And he’d made his share of mistakes as a teenage husband. Maybe without the pregnancy, he would’ve married Glenda in the first place and been as happy as he seemed now. She suspected that was what Glenda believed, how she justified going from Patience’s most-trusted confidante to snapping up Patience’s ex-husband as soon as he was available.

“Why would Kanon be in town?” she asked. “He didn’t even come to Suzanne’s funeral—or his own father’s, for that matter.” That’d been the talk of the town six years ago, when they laid Frankie to rest.

Carl made a face. “Rumor has it he’s inherited half the motor inn.”

Patience nearly dropped the coffee mug she’d just picked up. “What? How? That inn belonged to Suzanne before she ever married his father. Frankie had nothing when they met—was a drunk and a gambler—until she got him cleaned up.”

“I don’t understand it, either,” Carl admitted. “Seems grossly unfair to me. But Suzanne loved Frankie, and for some reason, she included his son in her will.”

Patience sank back into her rolling desk chair. “Kelsey must be devastated! She was so good to her mother, was at Suzanne’s side day in and day out, helping to run that inn since they first moved here.”

“Maybe she’ll try to contest the will. I don’t know. I haven’t talked to her yet. That’s why I want to go over, to lend my support.”

Patience blinked in surprise. “You think she should contest it? Can she do that with any hope of success?”

“I can’t say, not until I know why Suzanne included him to begin with.”

“This town has enough to deal with,” she mumbled, stating the obvious.

“Kanon Kincaid’s a troublemaker. Always has been.” Her father sighed and straightened his shoulders. “It might be hard to be charitable, but that’s what we need to do.”

Carl had once been more of a fire-and-brimstone preacher. That was the father of her youth. She remembered being scared of him as he thundered away. Fortunately, he’d never struck her. He’d just been so intense, so exacting, and afraid hell would get her if he didn’t set her straight on everything.

But the older he got, the more he softened. Thank God! As far as Patience was concerned, that was the only thing that enabled her to be such a big part of his life again. “Do you think I should go with you?” She checked her watch. “I could text Glenda to let her know I’m going to be a little later than I thought.”

He considered her. “That would be nice. A visit from both of us would seem a little less…official.”

Chapter Two

They parked the car under the porte cochere and walked into the small office with the red vacancy sign in the window. The room smelled of old coffee and pine-scented cleaner and had a high counter with a cactus plant and a service bell, as well as a stack of flyers advertising the upcoming Christmas festival—something Patience had created and distributed to all participating businesses. A plastic cat clock, eyes and tail swinging maniacally back and forth, hung on the far wall, along with several sepia pictures of the motor inn from when it was first built decades ago.

“Motor inn” wasn’t a term Patience encountered very often in the broader world, but it certainly fit this particular motel. The Lucky Day Motor Inn consisted of a semicircle of sixteen separate bungalows that hailed from the 1960s. It’d been boarded up and falling to ruin the day Suzanne moved to town—when Patience was only five and Kelsey was nine—and used her divorce settlement to buy it for pennies on the dollar. She’d done what she could to clean up the place, but she hadn’t had the money for any major renovations, so it was pretty much as it’d been. Although Suzanne probably would’ve made a different decision had money been more plentiful, Patience believed it was fortuitous she hadn’t. In recent years, retro had come back around, and the motor inn was as retro as a motel could get—so much so that when the downtown revitalization began three years earlier, no one wanted to change it. The Chamber of Commerce formed a work party only to install new carpet, paint and do a few repairs.

Except for the pool. Judd Pickering, a local contractor and chamber member, gave Suzanne a deal on replastering, so the pool and surrounding outdoor area looked new and would be open in spring after being closed the two previous summers. Jack, Patience’s ex, had even contributed to the downtown effort by donating a sizable sum to the fundraiser Patience had held at the church. His trucking business must’ve started making some good money. Too bad they’d been poor six years ago when they were still married. Perhaps she would’ve received a divorce settlement more akin to Suzanne’s. Then she wouldn’t be living with her father—practical or not.

The bell that’d gone off over the door brought Kelsey from the attached two-bed, one-bath apartment. “Well, look who’s here,” she said as Carl set the basket down and slid it toward her. “Is this for me?”

“It is,” he confirmed.

She seemed confused and then worried. “Why? Don’t tell me someone else has died…”

“No, no.” Carl made a comforting gesture. “Patience and I have just been thinking about you, wondering how you’re getting along now that it’s been a few months since your mother passed.”

Kelsey fingered the neatly tied bow securing the cellophane. “I miss her, especially now that it’s December and Christmas is on its way. Having Thanksgiving without her was hard enough. But I’m keeping busy and working hard, especially with the festival coming up. We have another meeting on Monday morning, don’t we?” she asked, peering past Carl to find Patience.

Patience stepped forward so Kelsey wouldn’t have to crane her neck. “We do,” she confirmed—and felt another pang of the anxiety that’d been troubling her so much lately. The festival had to pay off. She couldn’t imagine what would happen to Hard Luck—and the people in it—if it flopped.

Carl straightened the acrylic holder of Kelsey’s business cards. “I hear Kanon’s in town.”

Kelsey’s face grew shuttered. “Yes. He arrived a few days ago.”

“I haven’t seen him,” Carl said. “Where’s he staying?”

“Right here.”