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СКАЧАТЬ would. Ida had family to give her things to—even if that family had never visited her. Even if Maggie had been the one to take care of Ida every day since Mr. Ashby had passed away. A lawyer showed up on Maggie’s doorstep a week after the funeral and told her she was allowed to stay...for now. That was it.

      Real comforting.

      Why hadn’t she been saving money for an event like this? With not much in her savings, she didn’t have many options if she was told to vacate the inn. If she hadn’t given her money...

      She shook her head. Thinking of him wouldn’t help. It never did.

      Her hair probably looked fearsome. Thirty-some odd years of life hadn’t been long enough to learn how to tame her curls. No matter. She would just pin it here and there and put on some jeans and head over to meet whoever was in Ida’s home. Perhaps they were just stopping in to check on the place. Or maybe they’d turn her out on the street the instant they met her.

      On second thought...her bed still looked like a pretty good place to spend the day.

      No. Be strong. Put on a brave face. Like always. Don’t let them see fear.

      She needed to stop hiding.

      She needed to see how bad her future was about to become.

      * * *

      Kellen Ashby couldn’t stop groaning.

      When the lawyer contacted him to say he’d inherited all of his aunt’s belongings—including her home in the picturesque tourist town of Goose Harbor—he’d envisioned something grander than a cottage. Much grander. The squatty house with its low ceiling looked as though it belonged on the set of the movie The Hobbit. Rounded front door included. Thick vine plants snaked over the side of the house and up onto the roof. If he took a machete to those, would they grow right back? Being raised in Arizona and then living in Southern California gave him little experience when it came to vine tending. Or any sort of greenery, come to think of it.

      What had he gotten himself into?

      Kellen scrubbed his hand down his face.

      Would moving to Michigan just be one more mistake in his life? First rejecting the upbringing and religion of his parents, and then leaving home with his band to tour. The parties.

      He shook his head.

      The groupies—at least the one. Cynthia. Trusting that she cared about him had been his biggest mistake. She’d wanted his money. Wanted the fame that was within the band’s grasp. But not him. And not their daughters, either.

      How could a woman walk out on her children? He’d never understand that.

      Yes, there was a lot of wrong in his past. But two years ago when he finally gave up trying to live up to the world’s standards and instead, gave himself over to God—the mistakes had been washed away.

      Right?

      He fisted his hands.

      Goose Harbor wasn’t a mistake. It was a provision. Plain and simple. Aunt Ida had no reason to leave her possessions to him, so the events had to be what his brothers always called a God thing.

      Honestly he couldn’t remember what Aunt Ida even looked like. A picture inside would hopefully solve that mystery for him. He’d met the woman twice in his life. Both of those times had been in his childhood before he took off from home right after his eighteenth birthday.

      His three brothers had questioned why their aunt had left him everything and hadn’t mentioned them in the will. But Kellen had no answer for them. He hadn’t kept in touch with her. Hadn’t thought about her over the past twelve years. Not once.

      Yet here he stood on her property—now his property.

      “Dad! This place is so cool.” Skylar, his oldest, rushed past him and yanked open the door. Her light red, crooked pigtails bobbed as she darted inside. She peeked her head back out the door again. “Do you think the Seven Dwarves lived here? It looks like their home, doesn’t it? Like the pictures in my book. Don’t you think so, Ruthy?” Skylar grabbed hold of her younger sister’s chubby hand and gently led her inside.

      Kellen took a deep breath. He could make the tiny cottage work. For them. He’d have to. For the good of his girls he’d do anything. After everything, they deserved a safe life—and more. He’d moved here for them. Left a high-paying job managing the elite Casa Bonita Restaurant in Los Angles for them.

      No. That wasn’t true, either.

      He needed the move—the change of pace and the time together that life in a small town would afford—just as much as they did.

      Maybe more.

      If he squinted and didn’t pay attention to the cracked drainpipes, the paint-chipped shutters, the overgrown trees with branches pressing against the home and the sixty-some-year-old original windows—sure, the place looked like a hidden fairy-tale house. The kind a secret princess might visit or run away to for safety. No wonder his daughters both stared at it in gap-mouthed wonder when he’d pulled up the drive. At ages five and three, they would see the cottage as a playhouse come to life.

      The charm he’d imagined only a moment ago faded away upon entering.

      His family couldn’t live here. Not in its current condition. Doilies covered every inch of the front room. It smelled like mothballs and as if someone had spilled tea on the carpet countless times. A mauve color covered what he could see of the walls, but he couldn’t see much of them for the amount of old belongings stacked so high. The kitchen was mustard yellow. Everywhere. Mustard-yellow appliances, counters, linoleum floor and painted walls. He tried to turn on the oven. It clicked, but the burner wouldn’t start.

       So it doesn’t work, probably like 90 percent of everything in the house. Excellent.

      He yanked at his hair.

      Maybe the will hadn’t been a way of God providing. What if it had been a test? What if he’d failed?

      Kellen clenched his teeth. What made his aunt think the place would be a good home for a young family of three? It would take him a weekend just to childproof the place, let alone bring it up to code. Electricians and plumbers cost money. Ida had left him her savings—and there was a lot there. But without knowing what type of revenue the West Oaks Inn brought, he didn’t want to start dipping into funds he might need to live on at some point.

      “You have to lean your weight into the knob to get it to start.”

      The voice came from the doorway of the kitchen. He turned around and raised his eyebrows to the owner of it.

      A woman with vivid, pale blue eyes stood there. Her eyes were the exact shade of the snow-fed streams high up in the Rockies where his parents used to take the family hiking every summer. A clear, pure color. She wore little or no makeup, something he could unfortunately spot after being around women in LA who painted beauty products all over their faces. Her skin had a healthy glow without the stuff. She looked—dare he say?—real. Her hair, on the other hand... She could have a lifelong career as the stand-in for the person who played Mufasa in The Lion King musical.

      Kellen cleared his throat. “Excuse СКАЧАТЬ