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       Chapter Two

      “I’m sorry to call you so early, but I don’t know what to do.” Maggie cradled the phone against her cheek as she peered out the kitchen window.

      The Dumpster had arrived at eight in the morning. A Dumpster in Ida’s front yard. Kellen’s daughters buzzed around the cottage’s backyard without any clue that their father was in the front yard destroying a chunk of their heritage. Why couldn’t anyone understand that?

      Watching Kellen pull Ida’s belongings one by one onto the yard made Maggie’s throat clam up. It felt as if someone had tied a heavy rock over her rib cage.

      Paige, Maggie’s closest friend in town, yawned on the other end of the phone call. “It’s okay. I’m usually at school by now, but we’re still on spring break.”

      “It isn’t the weekend yet?” Maggie spun around to see her calendar fixed to the refrigerator with duct tape. It wasn’t even on the right month anymore, and if it had been, she wouldn’t have been able to see the date anyway because most of the calendar was covered by magnets holding up pictures, notes and recipes. Since she worked almost every weekend because that was mostly when guests came to the inn, she always seemed to have her days of the week wrong.

      “Still just Friday.” Paige’s voice started to sound more normal now. Maggie definitely woke her up. “What’s eating you, Mags? Bad guest? Is it that rude guy from Ohio again?”

      Rude guy from Ohio? Mr. Boggs? He wasn’t rude. Just a terrible flirt. He’d asked Maggie out on a date again the last time he was in town, but she’d said no. Mr. Boggs was nice enough in a bushy-mustache-and-balding sort of way, but he lacked the qualities on her list of things she wanted in a man. She’d fallen for a guy who didn’t tick off everything on the list before. To make matters worse, Mr. Boggs was an art teacher—she’d dated the artist type once before, and that had ended terribly. Never again.

      “Not that.” Maggie surveyed the mess she’d made while fixing breakfast. Eggshell pieces littered the counter. Flour spilled onto the floor making it look as if a pack of raccoons had ransacked the place. Sugar trailed along the edge of the huge sink. Dirty plates and spatulas covered every other spare spot. The sweet scent of the morning’s cinnamon rolls and maple sausage still lingered in the air. It mingled well with the sourdough bread turning gold in the oven.

      Guests didn’t go hungry while staying at the West Oaks Inn. Maggie made sure of that. She’d enjoyed her day off yesterday but sprung into action to make meals for today’s guests.

      The mess could be taken care of later. However, Kellen needed to be dealt with now. “Ida’s nephew moved in next door.”

      “Is he cute?”

      “Yes.” She pressed the tips of her fingers over her mouth.

      Why had that come out so quickly?

      Maggie felt heat on her cheeks that had nothing to do with the bread baking in the oven. But what else could she say? Kellen Ashby had the type of blond, mussed hair that looked as if he rolled out of bed that way but probably took him an hour of styling to accomplish. His strong jaw brought ample attention to perfectly shaped lips. When he talked, she’d fought the desire to watch his lips move—there was an art in the way he spoke and a melodic tone to his voice that had made her want to linger in their conversation. He struck her as the type of guy who popped up the collar on his coat even when it wasn’t cold out.

      Basically not her type. At all.

      He couldn’t even play a convincing Prince Charming in a B-rated movie. Well, in the looks department he could—but as yesterday’s ogre act about Ida’s appliances showed, the personality similarities were nonexistent.

      Paige growled on the other end of the line. “You can’t just say yes and be done with it. Describe him.”

      “He has two little girls.” She glanced around the curtain again. “I haven’t spotted a woman yet, though, so I don’t think there’s a wife. But who knows? Maybe she’s arriving later.” Better to assume he had a significant other and be proven wrong. “So let’s just say he’s attractive and once again another taken man in Goose Harbor.”

      “Well, if you didn’t call me to dish about the new guy and get dating advice, then what did you need?”

      “I think he’s getting rid of all of Ida’s things.” Maggie all but pressed her nose to the window to get a better look. Ida’s prized oven was out on the lawn. After Maggie told him how important it was. Did the man have no heart?

      “And that’s a problem?”

      “Paige, I don’t think you get it.” Maggie gripped the counter. “Those are Ida’s things.”

      “Technically, if he inherited the house, then those are now his things.”

      “No. They’re Ida’s. They’ll always be hers.” Maggie picked up a small porcelain rooster that had belonged to her mother. The painted feathers caught sunlight as she twisted the figurine around and around. “Shouldn’t he care about what was important to her?”

      “Maybe you should ask him about it.”

      “I can’t just walk over... Wait.”

      Kellen stalked down to the end of the driveway and stuck a garage-sale sign in the ground.

      “Oh no. No. No.”

      “What, Maggie? You’re starting to get me worked up. It’s like talking to you as you watch a horror movie.”

      “You might as well be.” It was one thing to think he was moving stuff outside to take stock or to part with a few of Ida’s belongings. But it was a whole different matter if he planned to sell all of Ida’s precious treasures. “I have to let you go. That man is about to get a piece of my mind.”

      “Hey, Mags—one thing.”

      Maggie patted her shirt, and a cloud of flour puffed into the air. “What?”

      “Well, please say you won’t be mad.”

      “Fine.” She tucked her shirt in. No time to change. Besides, arguing with Kellen didn’t require a wardrobe update. “Just tell me quick, because I need to get over there.”

      Paige СКАЧАТЬ