Authors: Melody Carlson
Jane took in a deep breath. “I think that’s highly unlikely.”
“But don’t you think it could be a possibility?”
Jane bit her lip. Maybe it was a slim, very slim, possibility. “I don’t know.”
Louise took in a deep breath and stood straighter. “I suppose that all we can do is to wait and see.”
“Yes.” Suddenly Jane remembered Clive … in the hands of Belle. “Did you say anything to Belle about Clive, Louise? I mean in regard to her manhunt mission and how he should probably be off-limits?”
“Oh dear!” Louise put her hand to her lips. “I meant to say something. I just never found an opportune moment.”
“Well, perhaps Clive will actually find Belle appealing.” But, even as Jane said this, she secretly hoped it wouldn’t be so. It seemed as if Clive had found Jane appealing. And she had enjoyed his admiration. She would be disappointed if he showed Belle the same sort of attention. Still, she told herself that was silly.
“You should go and find them, Jane,” said Louise urgently. “Make sure that Belle is not monopolizing the poor man’s time.”
“Well, I did promise him a tour of the inn.”
“Hurry, Jane. There’s no telling what Belle may have told the unsuspecting man by now.”
Jane paused in the foyer, listening to determine which direction Belle and Clive had gone. Or perhaps Belle had whisked him away to points unknown in her pink convertible. Jane hoped not. She thought she heard voices and headed toward the library, where she discovered them. She stood in the shadows of the doorway, quietly looking on and trying to decide whether to intrude. Clive had donned a pair of tortoiseshell reading glasses and seemed to be examining the cover of one of her father’s old books. Then he carefully opened the leather-bound book and curiously peered inside without speaking. Meanwhile, Belle, less than a foot away, watched with wide-eyed interest and a pleased smile.
“Is it what you thought it was?” she asked.
He nodded. “This is quite a library. I’d like to know the person who collected it.”
Jane took this as her cue. “Hello,” she said, stepping into the library.
“Clive was just admiring your books,” Belle said pleasantly. “Oh, have you two met yet, Jane? Clive just arrived from Phila—”
“We’ve met, Belle.” Clive smiled at Jane. “I thought you’d forgotten your promise to give me the tour.”
“It seems you’re finding your way without me.” Jane returned his smile.
“Belle was doing her best,” he said. “But I’m afraid she hasn’t been able to get me past the library. It’s delightful.”
“It was my father’s.” She waved her hand over the shelves. “He loved books.”
“Good books.”
“Yes, well, his taste was diverse. He was interested in so many subjects.”
“Did you know this was a first edition?” He held out the book.
“I’m not surprised. He was a great one for finding treasures at garage sales and flea markets.”
“You don’t worry about your guests making off with any of these?”
She laughed. “Well, we don’t frisk them at the door, if that’s what you mean.”
He chuckled. “And I’m sure you must cater to an ethical sort of clientele.”
“So far, we’ve been fortunate.” She took out a copy of
Great Expectations
and sighed. “I remember when my father wanted me to read this. I was fourteen and full of myself and I naturally assumed this would be a stuffy and boring old book. But Father promised to take me to dinner, just the two of us, if I read the whole thing.”
“Did you?” asked Belle, staring at the thick book with a slight frown.
Jane nodded. “I did. And I absolutely loved it.”
“And your father took you to dinner?” asked Clive.
“He did. Just the two of us. And we discussed the book and Dickens the whole time.” She sighed. “It’s one of my happiest memories.”
“Your father must’ve been quite a man.” Clive frowned. “I assume he’s not with us anymore?”
“He passed away. And, you’re right, he was an amazing man.” Then Jane gave Clive a quick history of her father. “He left a rich legacy.”
“And you should see the sweet little chapel where he was pastor,” gushed Belle. “It’s just the most perfect spot for a wedding.”
Clive nodded, then turned his full attention on Jane. “Well, you did promise me a tour, Jane. Are you still on?”
“Of course. I just got tied up with my sister and some inn business.”
“If you’re too busy,” said Belle, “I’d be happy to show him around. I feel almost as if I live here now.”
“I’m not too busy,” said Jane. “But if you’d like to join us, Belle, you are more than welcome.”
Belle grinned. “Don’t mind if I do. I’ve heard bits and pieces of history, but I’m always interested in learning
more.” She turned to Clive. “Did I mention that I am moving to Acorn Hill?”
“How nice,” he said in a tone that sounded unenthusiastic.
“Yes. I’ve only been here a short while, and I feel just completely at home. Why, I’ve even found a house that I’d like to purchase. It’s a lovely little cottage that I plan to paint a soft shade of pink, the same color as the inside of a seashell.” She turned to Jane. “Don’t you think that would be pretty?”
“It would be a rather unusual color for a bungalow,” said Jane as she led them from the library toward the parlor.
“A bungalow?” repeated Belle in alarm. “Why, it’s not a bungalow, Jane. It’s a cottage.”
“Actually it’s a bungalow-style cottage,” said Jane.
“Bungalow
refers to a type of design that was popular after the turn of the past century. I think bungalows are charming.”
“Oh,” Belle nodded as if taking this in, and Clive winked at Jane. They continued the tour, and Jane sensed that Clive’s opinion of Belle was not entirely positive. Finally, as they were going out to see the garden, Belle, who had been growing increasingly quieter, excused herself.
“What an interesting character,” said Clive.
“She most certainly is.” Jane led the way along the foot path. “Sometimes she seems a bit much, but she’s actually a very sweet person.”
“Sort of like a sugared Georgia peach.”
Jane chuckled. “Well, you do have a way with words, Mr. Fagler.”
“Clive.”
She nodded, feeling her cheeks warm as she began to explain the basics of herb gardening. Perhaps it was simply the afternoon sun. Or perhaps it was something more.
Wednesday evening after supper, Jane went to Sylvia’s home to watch videos and catch up. Belle was over at the carriage house with Ethel, and Clive was treating himself to a fashionably late dinner at Acorn Hill’s fine restaurant, Zachary’s.
Louise and Alice sat companionably in the living room, Alice stretched out on the burgundy sofa and Louise seated on the matching overstuffed chair. Alice was engrossed in a new mystery, while Louise had just started knitting a tea cozy, using a pattern Jane had found for her on the Internet. The inn didn’t really need another cozy, but Louise had some rusty red wool left over from a scarf she had knitted for Alice and decided that the color would go well with the paprika-colored cabinets in the kitchen. Other than the soft classical music wafting from the CD player and the click of knitting needles, the inn was silent.
After a while, Louise put her knitting in her lap and cleared her throat. Alice continued to read and Louise knew that her sister was deep in a fictional world. Although she hated to bother Alice, Louise could not hold her tongue for another minute.
“Alice, dear, I’m sorry to interrupt, but we really need to talk.”
Alice’s eyes seemed reluctant to leave the page, but she eventually closed her book and focused on Louise. “Yes?”
“It’s about Jane and … well … Justin.”
“Oh, she told me what she did about his reservation.” A smile crept onto Alice’s lips. “I have to admit that I laughed. Canceling that reservation reminded me of some naughty tricks Jane pulled as a child.”
“Yes, well, I didn’t find it quite so amusing. However, truth be told, now that the act is done, I’m glad that we could accommodate the honeymoon couple. And I’m pleased for Jane’s sake that Justin won’t be staying here. That could have been awkward, if not painful, for Jane. But that isn’t what I want to discuss right now.” Louise let her glasses drop down to hang from the chain around her neck. “I want to talk about Justin’s coming East and what it might mean for us.”
Alice swung her legs off the couch and onto the floor. “You mean if he wants Jane to give their marriage another chance?”
“Exactly. Although they are divorced, perhaps Justin has changed. Maybe he’s realized what was lost and wants to regain it.”
“Actually, Louise, when Jane told me he was coming, I broached that idea with her.”
“And?”
“I suppose I didn’t put it quite right. I was trying to say that if she wanted to go back to San Francisco with him, to sort things out and start over, I thought she should be free to do so. But I did a poor job because she thought I was urging her to leave.”
“Oh dear.”
“Well, we got over that little misunderstanding and agreed that if it’s God’s will for them to reunite, then Jane will know it.”
“That’s precisely it,” said Louise, leaning forward and waving a knitting needle for emphasis. “We have to be prepared for that possibility. If Jane feels led to give her marriage another try, we don’t want her to be torn. We don’t want her thinking that she’s deserting us. She must make the decision without feeling we have any claims on her.”
“And how do we assure her of this?”
“I’ve been giving it a lot of thought. I believe that you and I are happy here and even if Jane left us, we’d want to continue with the inn as best we could.”
“Yes, that’s what I’d want too. But could we manage? Jane does so much, adds so much.”
“We certainly couldn’t run the inn the way we do now, but I think if we lowered our standards a bit, we could manage.”
“Lower our standards?” Alice’s eyebrows rose in surprise.
“Oh, I simply mean in regard to the food we serve. Certainly neither you nor I will suddenly develop into a chef of Jane’s caliber. And we can’t afford to hire someone who could fill Jane’s shoes. But if we relied on the Good Apple for breakfast breads and pastries, and if we advertised continental rather than full breakfasts, then I think we could make do.”
“Yes, breakfast is the biggest hurdle. We could hire help with linens and cleaning during the busy seasons, and I could cut back my work at the hospital. And I suppose we could get help for the grounds and garden as well.”
“Exactly. And I, of course, could begin to limit my number of students. Perhaps I’ll stop teaching during the summer, our busy season. So many children go on vacation during that time anyway.”
“But then we’ll need to be extra careful of our budget and expenses. We’ll need to tighten our belts to cover paying for outside help and cutting back on our jobs. Not only that, we should send Jane her share of the profits to cover her investment.”
“I know, Alice, but I’ve tentatively worked out most of
those considerations.” Louise put her glasses back on and reached for a yellow legal pad that was tucked into her knitting bag. She reviewed the numbers and sighed deeply. “I think we can do it. It will be tight, and we won’t have much set aside for the unexpected.”
“God has always taken care of us,” Alice reminded her.
“Yes.” Louise firmly nodded. “And even if it’s not easy, it might be interesting. We might need to become more creative about filling the inn during off times, but I do believe we could do it, Alice.”
“That’s good news, I—I guess.” Her voice broke just slightly.
Louise looked over at her sister, seeing the tears glistening on her slightly flushed cheeks. “Oh, Alice.” Louise got up and sat next to Alice on the sofa. She put her arm around her sister’s quivering shoulders. “Oh dear, I know this is hard. I don’t want to lose Jane either. But we must be supportive of whatever choice she makes.”
“I know.” Alice sniffed, searching in her jeans pocket for a tissue. Louise removed a fresh, neatly folded hankie from her sweater sleeve and handed it to Alice.
“Somehow we will get through this,” Louise said with confidence she did not feel.
“I do understand,” said Alice. “But I’ll miss Jane so. It seems we’ve had her back for such a short time.”
Suddenly Louise’s eyes were brimming with tears too. “I know how you feel. She was gone for so long. It seemed she lived at the end of the earth. But I know that we both agree about the sanctity of marriage … the solemnity of marriage vows.”
Alice nodded sadly, dabbing at her nose.
“And if Jane and Justin can come together again, this time in a happy, healthy and godly union, it is our duty to do all we can to help Jane.”
“Y-y-yes,” Alice said. “You know you can count on me, Louise. I’ll do whatever I can.”
“I am certain you will.” Louise brushed a tear off her own cheek. “And who knows, perhaps Jane might open a Grace Chapel Inn out in California. Perhaps we could take turns going out there to substitute for her while she returned to Acorn Hill to visit.”
Alice responded with a weak laugh. “You know I hate to be selfish, Louise, but I’d insist that you go first. I would want to be here in Acorn Hill with our dear Jane.”