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After exchanging polite greetings, Gordon explained, “Travis and I were just looking at a list of nearby attractions, trying to decide how to spend the day. We’re thinking about driving down to Wytheville and checking out a few of the museums.”
“Good choice,” Kinley assured them. The inn was located close to the Blacksburg-Christiansburg-Radford area, bordered by the Blue Ridge Mountains on the south and the Allegheny Mountains to the north. Historic Wytheville was less than an hour’s drive south. She would be sure and encourage Dan to mention the many local attractions in his article.
Travis and Gordon obligingly posed in conversation with Kinley for Dan to snap a few photos of the common room in use. Dan thanked them for their cooperation, but Kinley could tell the couple rather liked the idea of appearing in the magazine. Dan chose several angles to maximize the view of the room Bonnie had decorated in inviting Southern style. Kinley considered igniting the gas logs for the photos, but decided to leave it alone for now. Maybe they would take more photos in here before he left, perhaps with a crackling fire in the background.
Two games tables were positioned at the far side of the room, and an eclectic assortment of games were displayed on nearby shelves. As Travis and Gordon departed for their museum outing, Kinley explained to Dan that almost every evening guests gathered around those tables for games and socializing. “They tell us it’s nice to simply unplug their electronics for a few hours and play some old-fashioned board games, face-to-face with other people.”
“I’d like to get a shot of your guests playing the games, if no one objects. I happen to like game nights myself.”
That didn’t particularly surprise her. Dan seemed like the social type. That was probably a benefit to him in his travel-writing job, making it easy for him to draw out his interview subjects. Not that he’d had to resort to that talent with her. She’d had her sales spiel ready from the moment she’d received notice that the inn would be featured in the magazine.
Continuing in that vein, she motioned toward the doorway. “Ready to see the grounds?”
“Absolutely,” he assured her with a smile that almost made her forget her practiced presentation.
Okay, so she hadn’t expected the writer to be quite this interesting on his own. Hadn’t been prepared to get so lost in his vivid blue eyes that she had to pause for a moment to remember which way to turn upon leaving the parlor. Could not have predicted that her skin would warm and her breath would hitch a bit when he reached around her to open the back door, his arm brushing her shoulder with the gesture. It was so very rare that anyone managed to sidetrack her that she wasn’t quite sure how to process that.
* * *
Dan was obligingly attentive as Kinley led him along the paths through the gardens. She pointed out the invitingly placed swings and benches and the secluded, nicely shaded nook that would eventually be called the Meditation Garden, which would incorporate a koi pond and perhaps a couple of nice sculpture pieces. Beyond that section was the starting point for a moderately challenging hiking trail through the woods to the peak of Bride Mountain and then around to the bottom and back up to the inn, just over six miles start to finish.
He snapped a photo of the trailhead sign. “I suppose you’ve made that hike a few times.”
She chuckled. “I could just about walk it blindfolded by now. My brother and sister and I used to love hiking the trail when we visited here as kids.”
Lowering his camera, he turned back to her, studying her face as he leaned one shoulder against an oak tree trunk in a casually comfortable pose that suited his easy tone. “The inn was closed during most of your childhood, wasn’t it? Do you remember it being open to guests?”
She glanced toward the back of the inn. A row of wooden rockers lined the long back porch. Only the honeymooners sat there now, rocking, sipping tea, chatting and watching Kinley give the tour. She could almost picture her younger self and her late mom sitting there rocking and drinking lemonade and enjoying the sounds of a lazy summer afternoon while Logan tagged behind Leo doing maintenance chores and Bonnie played innkeeper with her dolls. The image was bittersweet, making her smile even as her heart ached with missing her mother.
“I was eleven when my great-uncle closed the place after my great-aunt died, so I have some vague recollections of it being open to guests.”
“Do you remember your great-aunt well?”
“Yes. She was a very sweet woman. Uncle Leo adored her. He never fully recovered from losing her, though he led a quiet, comfortable life here after she died. He always seemed to enjoy our visits. He and our mother—his only niece—were close, and he was very fond of us. He and Aunt Helen never had children of their own, so he sort of claimed our mom as his honorary daughter and us as surrogate grandchildren.”
“Does your mother still spend time with you here?”
“We lost our mother three years ago, a little less than a year before Uncle Leo died. She was only fifty-eight. It was very unexpected.” She had tried to speak matter-of-factly, but she suspected he heard the faint catch of grief in her voice. She was still feeling a bit misty about that mental image of her mother on the porch.
The quick look of distress in his blue eyes let her know that he had, indeed, heard her pain. He reached out automatically to lay a hand on her shoulder, his palm warm and comforting through the thin fabric of her spring clothing. “I’m sorry, Kinley. I didn’t realize—”
With a hard swallow, she shook her head. “Thank-you. I guess I thought you already knew, for some reason.”
“No.”
She bent a bit too nonchalantly to gently brush a grasshopper off one leg of her slacks, which served the purpose of dislodging Dan’s hand from her shoulder. She found it difficult to think clearly and professionally with him touching her that way. Not that she minded, exactly, but better to choose prudence than to let an unguarded moment get away from her.
He shifted obligingly away from her, putting a more comfortable distance between. “Is your father still living?”
Nodding, she straightened, tucking her hands into the pockets of her sweater. “Dad’s somewhat of a restless spirit. He and Mom divorced when I was seven and he’s traveled a lot since, all around the globe. We see him once a year or so and he calls a couple times a month. He has zero interest in being tied down to any one place, such as running an inn.”
She and her siblings had long since acknowledged that their father was never going to change, and had learned to accept their relationship with him for what it was. Cordial, but distant. Disappointing, of course. She was certain that Logan had resented not having his father in his life, though he kept those feelings to himself for the most part, and she thought Bonnie had bonded so closely with Uncle Leo partially to fill that void. As for herself, she’d wondered occasionally if her unsatisfactory connection with her dad had anything to do with her poor choices regarding her unsuccessful marriage, but she didn’t let herself dwell on that too often. Now was certainly not the time to do so, she reminded herself, focusing instead on the conversation with Dan.
“None of his kids inherited his wanderlust?”
“I suppose not, though I enjoy taking vacations occasionally. Moving from Tennessee to Virginia to take over the inn was a big adventure for us,” she added with a wry laugh.
He fidgeted with his camera. “I guess I have something in common with your dad. I tend to get restless in one place, myself.”
She told herself she wasn’t disappointed to hear that. Why would she be? Keeping her expression politely interested, she said, “I suppose that’s why you chose to be a travel writer.”
He grinned. “Well, that—and the fact that my cousin is the managing editor for the magazine. Like you, I can credit family connections for my current career.”
Her eyes narrowed. He’d spoken teasingly, but she couldn’t entirely help getting a bit defensive. “We may have gotten our jobs because of family connections, but we are successful at them because of hard work and training,” she said, not quite achieving the light tone she attempted.
He seemed to realize his lame joke had fallen flat. “It’s obvious that you work extremely hard here. I didn’t mean to imply otherwise.”
She nodded somewhat stiffly.
Dan made a slow circle to study the grounds. “You’ve done a great job renovating the place. I can picture it looking very much like this back in the mid-1900s.”
He was trying so earnestly to make up for his gaffe that she couldn’t help softening a little. “That’s the goal. It’s an ongoing project, of course, but we’re pleased with the progress we’ve made so far. Let me show you our wedding facilities now.”
Shifting his camera to his other hand, he nodded with what might have been relief. “I’d like that.”
She backtracked to the deck, explaining that the wedding parties exited the inn through the back door, then descended the right-side stairs which led directly onto the wide, pebbled path to the Queen Anne gazebo. On wedding days, white folding chairs were arranged on either side of the path, forming a central aisle to the gazebo where the officiate would be waiting. Though subject to individual brides’ tastes, the decorations generally included garland, candles, flowers, tulle or fairy lights, she added. She didn’t mention that the Sossaman wedding would probably feature all the above and then some.
Dan nodded. “Nice setup.”
“We’ve had some beautiful weddings here since we reopened. And quite a few more booked in coming months.” She tried to keep her tone more informative than boastful, but suspected a little of the latter might have crept in. She couldn’t help being proud of how much she and her siblings had accomplished in the past two and a half years. “We have several wedding packages available, from full-service with wedding planner, florist, caterer, music and officiate included or customized to the client’s specifications. The side lawn will accommodate a large tent that will seat up to 150 guests for a wedding meal. We can even provide chandeliers and an orchestra dais for the tent.”
Dan glanced in the direction she’d indicated toward the corner of manicured side lawn visible from where they stood, accessible by three stone steps and a wheelchair ramp. “Did your uncle leave the place in this condition? Eighteen years after closing?”
She grimaced instinctively, but quickly smoothed her expression into a bland smile. “He kept up the basic maintenance, but the decor and gardens had always been Aunt Helen’s department.”
“So, the answer is no. You and your brother and sister have put a lot of work into the inn and the grounds.”
“Yes, we have.” Her hands still bore a few small scars from some of the manual labor that had gone into those renovations. She, Bonnie and Logan had all put hours of sweat and effort into the restoration, saving money whenever possible by doing what they could themselves. She figured she would be manning a shovel for the planned koi pond eventually. Considering how much they’d had to do, they still considered it close to a miracle that they’d been able to open only a year after inheriting the place.
“A big investment, too. Must have been intimidating.”
“A bit,” she said, a major understatement. To help them with the transition, Uncle Leo had made them equal beneficiaries of a generous life insurance policy. Every penny of that had gone into the restoration, along with some extra contributions from their private savings. More than intimidating, the commitment had been terrifying, but Bonnie’s persistent optimism had persuaded her siblings to stay the course.
Dan made another, slightly tentative attempt to turn the conversation again into a somewhat more personal direction. “What did you all do before becoming innkeepers? Was it always your plan to reopen the inn?”
She knelt to snap a broken branch from a rosebush. Had someone stepped on the branch? Or was this the work of her brother’s dog, Ninja, the bane of her existence? She looked around suspiciously for the mutt, but saw no evidence of him. Logan had promised to keep the dog penned up for the weekend, but Ninja was notorious for escaping the most seemingly secure enclosures.
Remembering that Dan had asked her a question, she straightened and pushed her nemesis to the back of her mind. “Bonnie has a degree in hotel management. Since she was just a kid, it’s been her dream to reopen the inn. She worked for an established bed-and-breakfast inn in Knoxville from the time she was in high school all the way through college to prepare herself for this. Even though he didn’t want to run it alone, Uncle Leo loved telling stories of the inn in its heyday and it’s Bonnie’s goal to re-create that time. As you commented yourself, we’re well on the way to achieving that end.”
Dan nodded toward the tidy caretaker’s cottage just visible downhill from the gazebo. “And was it also your brother’s dream to run the inn?”
“My brother trained in computer software development and ran his own business for several years. He still works as a small business consultant, but he was ready for a new challenge and the inn came along at just the right time. He’s taken on the grounds, and served as the contractor for the construction and remodeling we took on. He’s designing plans for the Meditation Garden and another couple of projects we’d like to undertake in the future.”
Dan lifted an eyebrow. “Software developer, landscape designer, construction contractor and groundskeeper? That’s quite a range of talents.”
She smiled and shrugged. “Logan is what you might call multifaceted.”
“I look forward to talking with him.”
“Oh, I don’t think he’ll want to be interviewed for your article. My brother prefers to remain in the background.” Some people accused Logan of being downright antisocial. He had his reasons, but there were plenty of times when she was exasperated with her brother’s muleheadedness.
“You told me earlier that you enjoy the business part of running the inn. That’s your background? Business?”
She nodded, comfortable again now that the topic had turned to her work. She never should have let it stray into such personal areas in the first place. “I have a degree in business and a real-estate license. I worked full-time in real-estate sales in Knoxville, Tennessee, until we took over the inn, and I still work part-time for a broker in Blacksburg. I work the occasional open house, take a few listings, do some private showings.”
“So both you and your brother have other professional responsibilities outside the inn.”
“For now,” she conceded lightly. “We both enjoy our other interests.”
Whether the inn would ever clear enough to fully support all three of them remained to be seen, but she was satisfied for now that most months ended in the black. The time and financial investments they’d made thus far seemed to be paying off for them. Dan would hear nothing from her that wasn’t cheerily positive.
“You put in a lot of hours here and you work part-time selling real estate,” Dan remarked after they’d walked together to stand beside the large fountain. Recirculating water spilled musically downward from the six-foot-high top into three increasingly larger fluted bowl-shaped tiers and finally into the shallow pool that surrounded the base. “You’re pretty much working seven days a week.”
“Pretty much,” she answered, smiling to show that she wasn’t complaining.
“And what do you do for fun?”
“I enjoy my work. That makes it fun.”
Dan shook his head with a chuckle. “Not what I meant.”
Absently fishing a leaf from one tier of the fountain, Kinley tried to decide what to do with him next. They had completed the basic tour; it was too early for any of the other scheduled events, and she had a few things on her schedule before lunch. Muffled sounds drifting from the front of the inn indicated that her brother and his crew had already started working on repairs to the portico, which would hinder access there for now. It wasn’t that she minded spending time with Dan—just the opposite, in fact—but she had other things to do.
As if in echo of her thoughts, her phone alarm beeped discreetly, reminding her of the meeting with the prospective bridal party who had stayed in the inn last night. She silenced it quickly.
“I don’t want to keep you from your plans for the day,” Dan assured her. “I know you weren’t expecting me until tomorrow. I can entertain myself for the next few hours.”
“Yoo-hoo, Kinley. There you are.” Eva Sossaman’s shrill voice sliced through the peaceful quiet of the gardens as she bustled toward them from the inn with daughter and grandson in tow. “Serena and I were just going to take a few more photos, but I wanted to make sure you remembered to order the patio garlands for the prerehearsal cocktail hour.”
Kinley wasn’t sure she was entirely successful in swallowing her low groan. Had Dan heard? She spoke quickly. “Yes, of course, Eva. Everything’s under control for the wedding. Now, if you’ll excuse us, Mr. Phelan and I have a meeting scheduled. Please let Bonnie or Rhoda know if there’s anything at all you need before you go.”
“Oh. Yes, of course.” Eva looked disappointed that Kinley was taking the handsome writer away when she would probably have loved to entertain him with endless descriptions of the upcoming wedding.
“I’ll see you later,” Kinley promised, edging toward the inn and nodding discreetly at Dan to accompany her.
“But I—”
Eva’s attempt at protest was interrupted by a splash from the fountain behind them. They all turned to see Grayson standing in the shallow pool at the base, stomping the water with his now-sodden sneakers, bending to reach for one of the pennies someone had tossed into the pool.
Eva shrieked. “Grayson! Oh, my sweet stars, what on earth were you thinking? Serena, get him out of there.”
But Dan had already moved to skillfully pluck the child from the pool. He held the dripping imp at arm’s length, his mouth quirked into a crooked grin that Kinley found almost impossible not to reciprocate when their eyes met over the boy’s head. With an effort, she kept her expression schooled. Pressing a button on her phone with her thumb, she lifted the phone to her ear, speaking to Eva as she did so. “I’ll have Rhoda bring out some towels and help you dry him off.”
Mumbling what might have been thanks or apologies or a jumbled mixture of both, Serena took her nephew from Dan and set him firmly on the pebbled path while Eva continued to scold the child, who looked not at all penitent. In fact, he seemed to be interested in climbing back into the fountain, being held back only by his aunt’s firm hands.
Kinley knew the boy would soon turn five, but she thought privately that he acted more like a toddler at times. Probably because his grandmother let him get away with so much, despite her show of fussing at him. Kinley didn’t have kids of her own, of course, and maybe never would, but she could tell when a child was being overly indulged.
Assured that Rhoda was on her way with the towels, and that Serena had convinced her mother that they should take the boy home immediately, Kinley hurried Dan away before they could be detained again. She was not at all happy with the way the day had progressed thus far. She would feel much better once she had regained control and gotten back onto her carefully planned schedule.
“So, we have a meeting?” Dan asked as soon as they were inside the inn again.
She wrinkled her nose in response to his tongue-in-cheek tone. “It was the first excuse that came to me. I didn’t think you’d really want to spend the next hour or more hearing about Serena’s wedding plans.”
He chuckled, a rich, deep sound that made her tummy do a funny little tap dance. “I’m pretty good at getting myself out of things I don’t want to do. I’d have found an excuse for Mrs. Sossaman. But thanks for the rescue, anyway.”
She glanced past him when a foursome came noisily down the stairs. She greeted them with a smile. “Here you are. I’m ready for our meeting. Dan Phelan, this is Stephanie Engel, her fiancé, Richard Molaro, and Stephanie’s mother and sister, Faye Engel and Jennifer Vines. Stephanie and Richard are considering having their wedding here at Bride Mountain Inn.”
“It is a beautiful setting for a wedding,” he said with a flash of charming smile, earning himself a few more bonus points in Kinley’s esteem.
“We agree,” Richard said with a besotted glance toward his fiancée. “We’re ready to book the date and discuss options.”
Pleased, Kinley motioned toward a doorway behind them. “Let’s go into the office and get started, shall we? Dan—”
“I’ll catch up with you later,” he said, taking a step backward. “I have some notes to write. I’ll leave you to plan what will surely be a beautiful wedding for a beautiful bride.”
His easy tone and charming wink made the young bride-to-be giggle rather than groan at the blatant flattery. Her cheeks were glowing when she hurried through the office door Kinley had just opened for them. Kinley waited to follow them in, speaking to Dan. “Do you have plans for lunch?”
“No, I don’t.”
“If you like, we can meet here in the foyer at noon and I’ll take you to Bride Mountain Café for a meal and to answer more of your questions. My treat.” That would allow her an hour for the meeting, which she was sure would be sufficient. She considered her friend Liza Miller’s café another enticing reason to stay at the inn. Less than half a mile away, it was close enough to walk, if the guests desired, and provided food that always left them raving. Having Dan mention the café favorably in his article could only benefit both businesses.
He nodded agreeably. “See you at noon.”
With that, he turned and ran lightly up the stairs toward his room. Suddenly realizing that she was watching his tight backside, she blinked rapidly and turned toward the office. Time to get back to work, which meant putting all thoughts of sexy travel writers out of her mind for the next hour or so—though she couldn’t help looking forward to that lunch with an anticipation that didn’t feel at all professional.
* * *
The Engel-Molaro party checked out of the inn immediately following the very productive meeting. Kinley and Bonnie ushered them out the side door, repeating assurances that they would not regret booking their wedding here at Bride Mountain Inn. The sisters shared big, satisfied smiles when the door had closed behind their departing guests.
“That’s going to be a great gig,” Kinley predicted smugly. “Stephanie seems unlikely to turn into a bridezilla, Richard had some excellent suggestions and Stephanie’s mom and sister appear content to leave the arrangements to the bridal couple. Not to mention that they’re considering purchasing the full wedding package from us.”
They exchanged a quick, jubilant high five. A few more bookings like that, Kinley thought, and they could order the supplies for the Meditation Garden. Another good year after this one and they’d start thinking seriously about expansion plans—a couple of honeymoon cottages, perhaps. Knowing how driven she could be, her sister and brother expressed apprehension every time she started talking about those possible future developments, but that didn’t stop her from dreaming big.
“Am I interrupting a celebration?” Dan asked from the stairs.
Bonnie giggled, but Kinley transitioned smoothly into business mode. “Dan and I are going to the café for lunch. Do you want to join us, Bonnie?”
“Thanks, but I have things to do here. If you need anything or have any questions for me later, Dan, I’ll be around.”
