Spring Comes To Barncastle Inn (4 page)

**

The smell of burned tomatoes, vegetables, and beef still hung in the air when Peter entered the kitchen. He paused to offer Sadie a hand as she negotiated the threshold. With her nose wrinkled, she paused for a moment on her crutches on the inside doormat. Marin came in behind her, unwinding her scarf.

             
“I, uh, tried to make beef stew in the slow cooker, and it scorched. Which is why I swung by Wok Stars for takeout before I picked you up.” He set the large brown paper bag on the edge of the dining table. “It was either that or the last few slices of leftover pizza in the fridge.”

             
Sadie laughed. “I've had cooking disasters of my own. Chinese is fine, just fine with me.”

             
“I thought,” he said, stepping to the kitchen window and opening it a few inches, “that the smell would have disappeared by now.”

             
Marin shrugged out of her coat. “Air freshener. I think we're out of it. You know the kind that they sprayed inside a car and left in a parking lot in Texas. And the car was full of garbage, in  July? Well, we need that.”

             
“You can add it to the shopping list.” Peter pointed at the notepad on the fridge. It was the easiest way for him to remember what to buy.

             
“You seem organized,” Sadie observed, making her way to the nearest chair.

             
“Please, sit down.” He pulled out the chair for her. Manners, manners. But then he wasn't used to company yet. With both him and Marin being busy, he hadn't ventured any invitations to anyone locally. First time for everything.

             
Sadie smiled up at him as she settled onto the wooden seat. “Thanks.”

             
“I try to stay organized. We manage. I try to not have to keep running to the store. My budget likes it better that way.” Her smile did crazy things to him, so he directed his attention to Marin. “If you could get us some plates, and silverware, please?”

             
“Country china, Dad?”

             
“No, real plates. We have company today.”

             
“What's country china?” Sadie asked.

             
“Paper plates. Neither one of us are fans of doing the dishes.”

             
“My nana calls them country china,” Marin said.

             
“So, how are your parents? Where are they living?”

             
“Florida, full time now. The climate is better. They took the plunge this fall, and I wanted to make sure we held onto the family homestead, so to speak. So I moved here in November with Marin.”

             
“Ah, that's good you're keeping it in the family. So where were you before this?”

             
“Newburyport, Mass., by the coast.” The stab of memory and all they'd left behind pierced his heart anew. But it was better this way. Much better now. He headed for the cupboard. They needed glasses, and he needed to compose himself.         

             
“It's beautiful out there. I used to live close by—in Andover. As close to the coast that I could afford, that is.”

             
“I miss it, but Vermont has its own appeal, especially the chance to raise Marin where I grew up. I still have the place in Newburyport, rented it out.”

             
“So, you think you'll go back eventually?”

             
“I miss the beach,” Marin observed. “But I like the mountains, too.”

             
Peter paused, settling down onto the chair at the head of the table, with Marin and Sadie sitting across from each other. “Maybe, someday. We had a busy life there. A good church, circle of friends. A lot going on. I write software, but also work in remote tech support for a company and conduct employee training, so I can work almost anywhere.”

             
Sadie nodded, a frown flickering across her features, then vanishing.

             
“Sometimes I miss my old room,” Marin said. “Another little girl is staying there now. She likes pink and purple, just like me.”

             
“Well, maybe someday, like your dad said.” Sadie glanced at him.

             
“We have a lot of memories in that house.” The words were out before Peter could stop them. It was Easter time and this year, he was glad they weren't in Newburyport, in the Nineteenth-Century home that he and Kate had begun to lovingly restore when Marin was a baby.

             
Marin nodded. “Mommy died the day before Easter Sunday.”

 

 

Chapter 4

 

The air left the room with a whoosh, like someone turned a turbo vacuum on high. Sadie glanced at Peter again.

              “How—how long ago?” she let herself ask.

             
“Two years.” The two words sounded as though they'd struggled from Peter's throat.

             
Sadie nodded. Yesterday Marin had mentioned losing her mother in a matter-of-fact way, just as she'd done seconds before. “I'm sorry.”

             
“It happens. Cancer happens. More now, it seems. And not just to older people.” Peter jabbed at his beef with broccoli. “But, here we are. I have Marin, my sunbeam.”

             
“Aw, Daaad.” Marin sighed.

             
“Anyway, we're here for now, and Castlebury has been good for us.”

             
Although it probably couldn't be that good, not with Easter rushing upon them. Sadie made an inner note to call her parents tonight and thank them for being supportive of her, in spite of her not moving back home. This time, she wouldn't rush off the phone, either.

             
“What about you? You said you've only been here for a few weeks.”

             
“Yes. I, uh, lost my job in Boston. I tried to find something else, but couldn't. My savings were shot and my lease was up, so Jayne and Luke said I could come here. Which led to the gift shop idea.”

             
“What did you do? Maybe my company has an opportunity for you to work remotely.”

             
“I was a digital content manager. Facebook, Twitter, web site, blog, you name it. I helped write campaigns and edited copy, coordinated online promotions with the marketing department.” She took a bite of her General Tso's chicken. Not as good as the pho that she loved from her favorite Thai place back home, but it still tickled her taste buds

             
“Ah, social media, that's something I don't spend much time on.”

             
“Even though you live, eat and breathe computers?”

             
“I don't have time for Farmtown, or whatever.”

             
“Laugh if you want, but social media is a key marketing tool, especially for the younger crowd.”

             
“Younger? I'm only 29.”

             
“You know what I mean.” She grinned at him. He returned the grin and her stomach did a somersault. Not because of the spicy food, either.

             
“Well, opening a gift shop is a big switch from managing social media.” Peter glanced down at his plate, and Sadie's pulse decelerated a few beats.

             
“I've always had the idea in the back of my mind. I like supporting local craftspeople, and the shop will be for Castlebury, besides the inn's guests.” She'd had to convince Luke the efforts would pay off. Literally. “Oh, I meant to tell you. We have a bunch of activities planned for Easter week, and you're welcome to come.”

             
“Aren't those just for guests?”

             
“No, not anymore. I mean, some activities are. But the programs are open to the public. Luke wanted...Never mind.” Her brain floundered for the right words. No wonder she'd lost her job at the firm. Maybe she had a gift for words, but sometimes she bestowed the wrong words for the situation. Like now. As if talking about Easter festivities and activities wouldn't be raking nails over an open wound for Peter.

             
“It's okay. We still celebrate Easter. What kind of programs?”

             
“We have volunteer actors coming Thursday night to portray the Last Supper, and attendees get to participate in a Passover meal similar to what they might have had in the first century, followed by communion. Then there's a service on Good Friday evening. The weekend finishes with a sunrise hike to the lake with a service, followed by brunch at the castle. Luke and Jayne are hoping to draw people who might not want to go to a regular church.”

             
He nodded. “That's a good idea. For us, Easter doesn't just mean new life. It means hope. Maybe...maybe we'll join you.”

             
Sadie wasn't sure if she should go on. This year, she would celebrate one of her favorite holidays in a way and a place she didn't anticipate. The thought caused her some discomfort, yet she hadn't faced the same life-altering changes as Peter and Marin.

             
They'd nearly cleared out the food on their plates and a glow lit the kitchen window on the west side of the room.

             
Peter set down his fork. “Well, would you like to see the sugar house when we're done eating? That is, if your ankle's not too sore?”

             
She wiggled her ankle and tried not to wince. Yes, it ached some. But she had crutches and ought to be able to maneuver across the yard easily enough. “I'd like that.”

             
“Do I have to go, too, Dad? Can I stay inside?”

             
“Can or may?” 

             
“May I stay inside?” A dimple appeared in Marin's cheek.

             
“Yes, you may.”

             
Sadie finished the last few bites of her supper, and Marin collected their empty plates and stacked them beside the sink.

             
“Delicious,” Sadie said.

             
Within a few minutes, she and Peter stepped around muddy patches on the yard and headed toward the sugar house A tendril of smoke rose from its chimney. She'd seen photos of maple trees being tapped for their sap, and she vaguely remembered a field trip from elementary school.

             
Peter flung open the door to the wooden building. “Come, see where maple tree sap is transformed into maple syrup and all kinds of goodness.”

             
His flair made her stifle a giggle. “Thank you.”

             
As she passed through the doorway, Peter winked at her. At that, the room's walls seemed to close in around her, around him as he closed the door behind them.

             
The air felt thick and heavy compared to the dropping temperature outside. A fire's embers glowed beneath a massive rectangular metal pot, almost large enough to be a hot tub for eight, or even ten. Perspiration beaded up on Sadie's forehead.

             
She reached up to brush her brow, and her crutch fell over with a thump onto the concrete floor. “Ah, it'll take me a while to get coordinated with these things.”

             
Peter stood close enough to pull the crutch from the floor and help her tuck the cushion under her arm. “Here.”

             
Applejacks Appleman—

             
Sadie swallowed hard at his nearness. This was a bad idea. A bad idea to visit the sugar house

             
“Tell me, tell me how this is made into syrup.” The thought of maple sugar candy, a little sweet indulgence she enjoyed every spring, filled her mind. She licked her lips.

             
Peter began a fumbling explanation. But he stepped a few paces away as he talked about tubing that ran from maple trees throughout the woods, and how the sap “ran” from the trees all the way to the massive pot in the sugar house

             
For now, Sadie could breathe again. She needed to get on her feet again, not be faced with the complication of someone like Peter Appleman.

             

 

Chapter 5

 

Peter yawned, stirring the beautiful syrup. He checked the time on his phone. One a.m. on Sunday morning. Soon, very soon, the amber syrup would be ready to store in jars labeled Appleman's Maple Syrup, then sent out to shops throughout Vermont. Including next door, at Barncastle Inn.

             
Ted Barncastle, Jayne's aging father, had been an extremely helpful neighbor when Peter arrived with the Volvo packed to the gills, following a moving truck with all their worldly goods. Although more than ten years had passed since Peter lived next door, Ted—he no longer asked Peter to call him Mr. Barncastle—welcomed him back almost like one of the family.

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