The inn was half empty.
As Beverly Overholt scooped up the last of the Hilty boys’ sheets, she knew that she should be breathing a huge sigh of relief. The boys had been well-behaved and mannerly, but they’d still been boys stuck on the top floor of a bed-and-breakfast. The youngest, especially, had been growing rather restless. He needed room to run and play.
But now they were at their new farm and the inn was far quieter. Yet instead of feeling a renewed sense of peace, Beverly felt the same as she had when Leona, Mattie, and Sarah had left the attic room four months ago . . . a little blue.
She had no reason to be, either.
Business at the Orange Blossom Inn couldn’t have been better. It was a rare day when they had one room vacant, let alone several. Rarer still when she wasn’t booking reservations, baking scones and cakes for afternoon tea, or feeling the need to weed her front flower garden.
But today was one of those days. With half of her guests checked out and the remaining having informed her that they wouldn’t be back until dark, Beverly had been able to forego her usual afternoon tea service. And since she’d given Tricia most of the day off so she could spend it with Penny Knoxx, Beverly had unexpected time on her hands.
After depositing the sheets in her washing machine and turning it on, Beverly poured herself a Mason jar full of iced tea and went outside to her front porch. She ignored the inviting trio of white rocking chairs and simply sat on the stoop, content to smell the lingering scent of orange blossoms on the trees and watch the occasional bicyclist pedal by.
As the minutes passed, Beverly knew that she needed to face the facts. She wasn’t fretting about the Hilty boys leaving or simply relaxing after a busy couple of days.
She was missing Eric Wagler.
A good portion of her brain was shouting that such a thing simply didn’t make sense. Eric had first appeared in her life earlier this year to inform her that he rightfully owned the inn she’d thought belonged to her after her aunt, the previous owner, had passed away. In the beginning, she’d resented him something awful. Beverly had arrived at the inn during a time of need and for years it had been her haven. When he’d told her about his plans for the inn, she’d been angry. Why, she’d even called her lawyer to straighten things out!
But eventually, she’d discovered that her aunt Patty had merely been leasing the inn. Beverly still had no idea why Patty had never told her. Maybe it had slipped her mind. Maybe, after running it for so many years, Patty had actually thought of the Orange Blossom Inn as hers, and when she’d known she was about to pass on into heaven she hadn’t thought to explain to Beverly how things really were.
Whatever the reason, Eric’s news had stung.
Eric, too, had been surprised by things. At first he wasn’t sure he even wanted to run an inn in Florida. But after spending some time at the inn a few months ago, he had decided to move from Pennsylvania to Florida.
They’d also come to an agreement about running it: She was going to manage the day-to-day operations while he would handle the finances. She’d been so relieved to know that she was going to keep her job.
But she’d been even happier to realize that, as time passed, Eric had become a good friend.
Now, however, he was a distant one. He’d returned to Pennsylvania in order to put his house on the market. His plan had been to sell it quickly and then move to Sarasota, but the Lord hadn’t seen fit for that to happen yet. His house hadn’t sold and he was still in Pennsylvania.
And she’d come to truly miss him.
They’d taken to calling each other on occasion, presumably for work reasons. But usually, after dwelling on inn business for a few minutes, they would simply chat. It was funny, but their distance seemed only to bring them closer than ever.
Noticing that her Mason jar was empty, Beverly took it to the kitchen and filled it again. Then she finally did what she’d been wanting to do for the last hour. She picked up the phone and dialed his number.
As it rang, Beverly tried to tell herself that it would be a good thing if he didn’t answer. She could leave a message and do something productive instead. There were always chores to do around the inn. Why, she could clean out the pantry!
“Hello?”
“Hi, Eric,” she said quickly, so very happy that she wouldn’t have to tackle that pantry anytime soon. “It’s Beverly.”
“Hey. What’s going on? Is there a problem?”
“Not a single one.” He didn’t sound all that happy to hear from her and now she felt foolish. “I, uh, was simply wondering how your house sale was going today.” She frowned, realizing how she sounded: awkward!
“It’s the same. Which means my house is still on the market and hasn’t received an offer.”
“Oh, dear. I am sorry.”
“I am, too, but I haven’t given up yet. My real estate agent promised that things usually pick up this time of year. I guess a lot of families move around the end of summer.”
Thinking of the Hiltys, she said, “We recently had a family stay here for that very reason. Well, actually a widower and his three sons. He is going to take over an organic farm on the outskirts of Sarasota.”
“Poor guy. I can’t imagine raising three children by myself.” His voice sounded warmer now, his words easier, as if he’d settled into their conversation.
“I did feel sorry for him, though I never heard him complain about his situation. Oh! Guess what?” she added.
“What?”
“Tricia has a beau. His name is Ben and he’s one of that man’s sons.”
Eric’s chuckle on the other end of the line eased her, and for the first time all day, she felt like herself again. “Bev, don’t keep me in suspense! Tell me all about him. Do you like him? Do you think it’s serious?”
“Well, I think I like him. He’s mannerly.”
“Mannerly? That’s it?”
“Nee. Let’s see, he’s rather handsome. And strapping.”
“Strapping?” Eric laughed. “Bev, I do love your descriptors.”
She supposed she was sounding rather old-fashioned. “Let’s see, he seems mighty strong. Full of muscles. And he’s tall, too. Plus, he has blond hair and blue eyes. It seems he grew up on a farm in Charm, Ohio. He also seems quite taken with Tricia.”
“He sounds like quite the catch.”
“To be sure.” Smiling, she said, “Tricia noticed him immediately.” Sitting alone in the kitchen, Beverly rolled her eyes. Who wouldn’t have noticed Ben immediately?
“Are you worried about him breaking her heart?”
“A little, though I’m sure it’s just a little crush. You know how kids are.” Though, of course, neither Ben nor Tricia were actually kids . . .
When Eric chuckled and asked about Beverly’s best friend, Sadie, Beverly twirled the telephone cord around her finger and chatted some more.
She also decided that she was going to write him a letter that week. There was nothing wrong with having a friend to write to and talk with occasionally. Nothing wrong with that at all. After all, they needed to get to know each other better, since he was technically her boss now. Yes, getting to know each other better was a mighty good idea. And an important step in their friendship.
She simply needed to keep reminding herself that she and Eric were destined to be friends and friends only. Only a foolish woman would ever dream of becoming more than that with her boss.
Only a very foolish woman indeed.
AFTER WALKING HER GIRLS to Pinecraft Elementary, Emma decided to work on their new dresses when she got back home.
Thankful to have some quiet time to herself, she carefully cleared off the kitchen table and wiped down the surface with a rag. Most of the time, she merely handed down Lena’s dresses to Mandy and Mandy’s dresses to Annie—it made the most sense—but every couple of months she took the time to sew each of them a new one.
She’d ordered some beautiful fabric in shades of yellow for their new dresses. Emma loved outfitting them in coordinating colors, loved seeing how the three of them looked as they walked together, their similar frames and brown hair making them look almost like triplets. She imagined one day soon Lena would have enough of that and protest that it was time she decided what to wear. And Emma knew that when that day came, she wouldn’t blame her. But until then, she mused as she bent over the table and traced her pattern with a thick pencil, her three girls were going to match as much as possible.
A brief knock sounded at her back door, followed by the creak of it opening. “Emma, where are you?” her mother called out.
“Standing by the kitchen table,” she answered just as Frankie got to his feet and padded toward the kitchen. After hearing her mother greet Frankie, Emma grinned.
“Oh, no, Frankie. You stay out of my basket,” another voice chimed in. Rachel, Emma’s mother-in-law.
Rachel and her mother had been friends for years. Their friendship had grown after Emma married Sanford and had cemented in the years since. Now they were true blessings in Emma’s life. No two women could care for Emma and her girls more.
But this addition to her mother’s visit changed things. She loved her mother. She loved Rachel, too. But she found them to be exhausting when they paid a call on her together.
As Frankie trotted back in, circled Emma, then lay down to sleep under the card table, Emma mentally prepared herself to face them both. When they walked into the room, she noticed that they were both wearing gray. “Have you two decided to start wearing matching dresses like your granddaughters?” she teased.
Rachel chuckled. “Nee. We didn’t plan this at all. I was pretty surprised to see Mary Beth wearing gray like me.”
“You both look nice. Rather somber for a Tuesday, but nice.”
Her mother took a seat in one of the wicker chairs. “I’m not somber. Merely busy. Mighty busy.”
Rachel sat down in another chair. “I’ve been mighty busy, too. Joseph is courting!”
Joseph was Sanford’s youngest brother. “That’s wonderful-gut news. Who is he interested in?”
“Katie Byler.”
“I don’t know her.”
“You’d know her if you saw her. She’s a lively thing. She and Joseph are a gut match, I think. I hope he doesn’t mess things up.”
Emma knew better than to touch that comment. Rachel had a definite opinion on how most things should happen, whether it was making a bed, frosting a cake, or properly courting. “Ah. Well, as you can see, I thought I’d spend the day making some new dresses for the girls.”
Both of her visitors exchanged looks. “Any special reason you’re making them something new to wear?” her mother asked.
“Nee. None other than that they need some new dresses. They are growing tall.” Emma waited for the usual comments about how they had inherited Sanford’s height, but when nothing came, she straightened, set down her pencil, and pulled up a chair. “I’m starting to get the feeling that you two didn’t come over simply to say hello.”
“The truth is that we heard that you took Lena, Mandy, and Annie to another man’s home,” Rachel said, in a deceptively offhand way.
Which Emma knew wasn’t offhand at all.
Because she’d known that news traveled around their small community faster than lightning bugs in the woods, Emma had been mentally preparing herself for this since her visit to the Hilty farm. It was time to tread carefully. “Please don’t worry, Rachel. The girls and I delivered a meal to a new neighbor’s house. That’s all.”
“But that wasn’t all, was it?” her mother interjected.
“Pardon?”
Looking at her intently, her mother said, “We heard you ate with them.”
“That is true.” Looking from her mother to Rachel to her mother again, Emma attempted to allay their concerns—and, with any luck, change the topic. “Tricia Overholt from the Orange Blossom Inn was there, too. Tricia is seeing the man’s eldest boy. His name is Ben, and I have to tell you that they are smitten. It’s so sweet to see.”
Mamm leaned forward. “Ah, Emma, I’m sure you didn’t think about this, seeing how your heart still belongs to Sanford and all, but your visit could have been misconstrued by others.”
“I realize that, but I did nothing wrong. It was a simple, neighborly visit. That’s all.”
“That man is a widower, yes?”
“He is.”
“Some people in our community might think you are attempting to form a romantic attachment if you spend too much time with his family.”
“Who is worried?”
“I wouldn’t want to spread any gossip, Emma,” Rachel said. “We merely wanted you to hear what people might start thinking.”
Emma knew the easiest thing to do was nod politely and follow their advice. The women meant well, and people did gossip, but she wasn’t ready to give up her new friends. “I hope I can count on the two of you to set everyone’s doubts to rest,” she countered.
“I’ll do what I can, but you know how it is, dear. We mothers need to hold ourselves to the highest standards.”
“I think you’re both making mountains out of molehills. Nothing untoward is going on. Jay and I simply found that we enjoy each other’s company.”
“Does this mean you will see him again?”
“Well, I’m not going to avoid making a friend because I’m suddenly worried about gossip. The Hiltys have just moved here and they need to feel welcome. We’re going to be their friends.”
“All right. But just make sure you let that man know that your heart belongs to your husband.”
That stung. And to her surprise and dismay, the pain settled in and grew. Her mother was right. Her heart would always belong to Sanford. Ever since he’d died, she’d been doing her best to honor his memory.
But she couldn’t help feeling that she’d been a little forgotten in the effort to preserve Sanford’s memory. What about how she felt? What about her pain? Her loneliness? Sometimes it felt as though her in-laws and parents would never see her as anything more than Sanford’s widow.
Didn’t she matter anymore?
“I don’t need reminders about what is in my heart,” she blurted.
“Of course not.”
“I’m the one who lost a husband. I don’t need you reminding me about that.”
“I’m sorry if you thought I was inferring.”
“You were. I also know what you were inferring. For some reason, you both came over here to make sure I did nothing to ruin Sanford’s place in my life.”
Rachel’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m not sure why you are reacting like this.”
“Rachel, I know you care about me, and I am mighty grateful for that. But it isn’t fair for you and Mamm to think you need to remind me about how I should be feeling. Or what I have lost. If I want to befriend a man who I have much in common with, you need to let me do that. Both of you do.”
Her mother looked on the verge of arguing, but to Emma’s surprise, Rachel cut her off. “You are right, dear,” she said in her sweet way. “I’m so sorry if you thought we came over here to judge. I didn’t mean to. You have every right to keep making friends. You have every right to be yourself. I promise, both your mother and I only want you to be happy.”
“Is that true, Mamm?” Emma asked.
“Of course, Emma. Rachel is right. We might have overstepped ourselves today. Maybe.”
But Emma knew that her mother was only backing down because Rachel looked on the verge of pulling her out of the room if she didn’t.
It was time to make amends. The three of them had been through too much together to dwell on disagreements. “Would you two ladies like to have some tea or kaffi and help me make three little girls dresses?”
Rachel opened her purse and pulled out her glasses. “You cut, I’ll pin.”
“And I’ll sew on your treadle,” her mother announced. “Why, with our help, I bet you can have them done by the time the girls come home from school.”
“That would be wunderbaar, Mamm,” Emma said quietly. When her mother’s expression softened, she knew that her mother understood that she was talking about so much more than just the sewing project.
Emma hoped they’d feel the same way tomorrow, too.