Chapter 29
Okay, now this had to be the right place. If the B&B’s name on a small wooden sign next to a cute yellow mailbox at the bottom of the driveway hadn’t been enough, the chickens and goats roaming the property added a level of charm that screamed bed and breakfast.
Gravel spit from beneath McKenna’s rental all the way up the long winding driveway. Hopping out as soon as she parked, McKenna heard loud voices filtering through the screen door as she started jogging toward the porch steps.
“Good riddance to her. Good riddance, I say.”
“Looks like our emergency Lottie’s Gotta Go meeting paid off.”
“And she says our committee never accomplishes anything. Ha!”
“Hello?” The screen door creaked open as McKenna stepped inside.
Her nose twitched at the scent of lilac.
Probably from the purple candle sitting on top of the tall wooden check-in desk.
She took a step closer, spotting a sign-in book for guests next to a display of purple teacups and a vase full of yellow flowers.
As the voices continued chattering off to the right, McKenna let her gaze sweep over a small sitting room on the left with peeling flowery wallpaper, faded upholstered chairs, glass-door bookcases, and doilies. Lots and lots of doilies.
She eyed the wooden banister leading upstairs. Looked like the owner was in the process of removing the wallpaper along the stairwell. Several patches were already removed.
Actually looked like the owner was in the process of a lot of things now that McKenna was taking a closer gander.
She’d just spotted a new curtain rod and light fixture sitting on the floor in the hallway when a man with a thick gray mustache and short stubble on his cheeks entered the foyer from what looked like the dining area to the right.
He halted at the site of her. “Well, howdy. Didn’t hear you come in. Are you looking to reserve a room?”
“I’m looking for Nate Lambert. Is he here?” Please say he’s here.
The man slowly gave her a once-over, stroking his mustache. “Say, you aren’t the lady who keeps calling, are you?”
Oh no. The senile man. Gus. “Is there someone else who works here? Someone a little more informative and less . . . you?”
“I’ve known Nate since he was a baby,” Gus said.
“How lovely. Is he around?”
“I’d give that boy a kidney.”
“He’s lucky to have you. Any chance I can speak to him?”
“If he doesn’t want to marry you, then I’m going to support him.”
“I don’t blame you. Wait. Huh?”
“He’s not giving you a ring, honey.”
“Oh, he is giving me a ring, honey. My sister’s boyfriend needs it so he can propose before he panics and moves to Germany.”
Gus stroked his mustache. “Well, darlin’, I’d say now you’ve lost me. Just how exactly do you know Nate?”
Good question. How did she know Nate? Felt like so much had happened since she first met him.
“He refused to give up the proposal bench, so then we had to pretend to be on a date in order to fool my sister, at which point we might’ve accidentally bumped lips, but then the bridge fell apart, and in all the chaos that followed I panicked and forgot that I’d hidden the ring in his pocket, so now I’m here to get it back. That’s the short version, anyway.”
Gus’s brows lifted. “I think I’m going to need you to expand to the full version. What was that about bumping lips?”
“Can you please just help me find Nate?”
Without taking his eyes off her, Gus twisted his head and yelled, “Nate? The wacky Nebraska lady’s here to see you.”
“Nate’s here?” Oh, hallelujah. McKenna could almost bump lips with Gus at hearing that glorious news.
Floorboards creaked and Nate stepped into the room a few seconds later.
McKenna’s breath hitched. “It’s you,” McKenna said on an exhale. “It’s finally you.” Before she could stop herself, she rushed forward, wrapping her arms around him.
“It’s you?” Nate’s voice next to her ear didn’t sound nearly as breathy and relieved. “What are you doing here?”
McKenna dropped her arms and stepped back. He could at least sound a little happy to see her again. He was scowling worse than the first time they met.
“Were you expecting a different wacky Nebraska lady?” said Gus.
“Yes, actually. This is Wacky Nebraska Lady Number One. I was expecting Wacky Nebraska Lady Number Two.”
“Did you bump lips with that lady too?” Gus asked.
“I said accidentally,” McKenna felt the need to point out. “And I’m not Wacky Nebraska Lady Number One.” She felt the need to point that out as well. Her joy at finding Nate was quickly evaporating.
Especially when he said, “You’re not here to steal more things from me, are you?”
McKenna shook her head at Gus. He wasn’t buying this, was he? She crossed her arms, looking at Nate. “Name one thing I’ve stolen.”
“My bench.”
McKenna turned to face Gus. “It was a public bench, so . . .”
“Kisses.”
“What?” McKenna said, returning her attention to Nate. “Never.”
“Try thrice.”
“Thrice? Who talks like that? Oh, wait. I remember now. Poet-pondering weirdos. And you call me wacky. Also, for the record, you gave me permission for that last lip bump. Now, can you just give me back my ring?” She held out her palm.
Nate stared at it, then met her eyes like she’d just switched languages.
“What ring?”
“The ring!” She pointed to her bare ring finger as if that explained everything.
He looked at her finger. Looked at her face. Glanced at Gus. Then back to McKenna. “And you think I have it because . . . ?”
“Didn’t you listen to my messages? I zipped it inside your pants pocket.”
“Seems like a pretty good reason to think you’d still have it,” Gus said to Nate with a shrug.
Nate gripped the front of his hair, then smoothed down his cowlick. “All those messages were from you?” He’d lost the scowl at least.
“Who else would they be from?”
“Wacky Nebraska Lady Number Two,” he said, reaching for his hair again.
“Just how many wacky ladies put something in your pocket that day?”
“Two too many, apparently,” Gus mumbled.
Nate started massaging the back of his neck. “Look, I didn’t know that was you. I definitely didn’t know you were talking about the ring. Especially since, as I recall, I specifically told you I didn’t want anything to do with that ring, then handed it back to you.”
“Then if you’ll further recall, we were in a stressful situation, so I basically had no choice but to sneak the ring inside your pocket while we kissed.”
“I really need to hear the full version of this story,” said Gus.
“Oh, I see,” said Nate as two older women and a pretty Hispanic woman peeked their heads around the corner, no doubt curious to see what all the commotion about kissing was for. “So you’re not only a crazy stranger-kisser, you’re a pickpocket too?”
McKenna tried ignoring the three women now leaning further around the corner. “I didn’t pick your pocket. I put something inside your pocket. The side pocket. The one with the zipper.”
“Sounds like she’s a put-pocket,” a woman with green glasses whispered.
“Is that legal?” the younger of the women whispered back.
“I think I would’ve noticed if you were hiding something inside my pocket,” Nate said, drawing McKenna’s attention back to him.
“Obviously you didn’t.”
“Well, I don’t know how. It wasn’t that great a kiss.”
“Hey, don’t blame that on me,” said McKenna. “You were the one standing there like a statue.”
“Because a stranger was mauling me with kisses. I needed a moment to think.”
“Can we just get back to the ring? I’ve flown across the country, stayed up all night in an airport, driven through a storm, lied to multiple people, and eaten lots of questionable gas station food.
Right now I just really need you to tell me that my mother’s priceless ring is still in your pocket so I don’t puke all over my shoes. ”
They must’ve known she wasn’t kidding. Everyone but Nate took a step back from McKenna.
“I don’t know if it’s still in my pocket.”
“How can you not know if it’s still in your pocket?”
“Because I never checked. Since my pants were still wet from the river, I changed out of them in the ER parking lot, then wadded everything inside a patient belonging bag so I could shove it into my carry-on before I got to the airport.”
A whoosh of air left McKenna’s lips as she bent forward holding her stomach. “But it should still be inside the pocket, right? Even if you never checked. Even if you washed your pants, which I’d sort of hope you’d have done by now, it should still be there.”
“In theory.”
She straightened and inhaled a couple of deep breaths.
“Okay. I no longer feel the need to puke. But can you please, please go get the ring before the feeling returns? I’d like to book a return flight as soon as possible.
I just want to get back to Nebraska.” Well, that was something she never imagined hearing herself say.
Nate stared at her for the longest five seconds of her life, then turned and walked away. But instead of returning with the ring, he returned with an empty brown paper grocery sack.
“What’s this for?”
“For when you puke,” Nate said. “Because I have no idea where those pants are. The airport lost my carry-on.”
She heard a squeaky-choking sound, sort of like an exotic bird getting strangled by a wild monkey, then realized by the wide-eyed looks on everyone’s faces that the sound was coming from her.
Probably explained why she was having trouble drawing her next breath.
“Is she okay?” someone asked.
“Maybe she should breathe into the paper bag,” said another voice.
“Is now a bad time to ask for more details about that lip bump on the bridge?”