1. Chapter 1 #2
“Wow. That’s an insane amount of ruffles,” Dom says, standing next to me, his eyes searching the space.
Okay, so my brother doesn’t appreciate it.
But his taste is lacking anyway. Emma would appreciate it.
It was her idea to make the rooms princess themed, since I loved all the princesses when I was young.
I was obsessed, to be honest. I grew out of that, of course, but when Emma suggested the idea after I bought the place, it seemed like a good plan.
“Come on,” I say, tugging on his arm. “I need you to hang up that picture.” And I need to do fifty million other things.
“Yes, princess,” he says, following me out the door and down the hall—the one I’ve got to remember to sweep—and down the grand staircase where, at the bottom, the check-in desk is nearly done.
“It looks amazing, Ben,” I say as we reach the front entry where Bennett Walker, town carpenter and cabinetmaker, is on his knees installing the molding around the base.
My anxious butterflies take a little break while the happy ones float in. The desk is going to be gorgeous. It’s tall with clean lines and a rich wood finish that matches the banister, wood flooring, and trim of the first floor.
Bennett looks up, his brown eyes warm and bright despite having been here installing since this morning.
“It’s coming along nicely,” he says in his deep voice.
“How long until you think you’ll be done?” I ask cheerfully, even if inside I’m willing him to say thirty minutes.
I need time to clean up all the dust and add the check-in sign I had made and the small brass bell I ordered. All so I can make this place look like it’s been running for years, rather than opening its doors for the first time today.
“I’d say in the next couple of hours,” he replies.
“Perfect,” I say, even though that’s not perfect at all.
“Aren’t you running out of time?” Dom asks me, his brow pulled down.
“I’m fine.” I give him a smile that says shut your stupid mouth. “Don’t you have a picture to hang?”
“Yes, your highness,” he says, heading over to the living area that has two sofas currently covered in sheets, which are facing a stone fireplace with a dark wood mantel.
I don’t need Dom’s energy right now. I need someone with positive, happy vibes who will tell me that it will all work out. Because it has to.
There’s a quick knock at the front door before it opens and Hal Rodgers, the bartender from the Maple Bar down the street, pops his head in.
“Hello,” he says, opening the door fully and walking inside wearing a plaid shirt that’s pulling at the buttons and a pair of jeans. “Glad you’re here, Rosie.”
I smile. Even though inside I’m a bundle of nerves because I don’t have time for anything other than getting this inn ready. “What can I do for you, Hal?”
“Quick favor,” he asks. “Do you mind stepping outside?”
I let out a breath, trying to keep a grin on my face because my mom taught me not to be rude.
“Of course,” I tell him.
We walk outside into the breezy last-bits-of-summer air and onto the long porch of the inn. The fresh sage green paint looks especially pretty in the afternoon light, even if the three white rocking chairs are still the only things making the porch look finished.
Guests will be able to sit outside and enjoy the changing colors. That’s what we’re known for in Autumn Ridge: leaf peeping. That’s what they call it around here. I’ve always hated the saying. We might as well call it leaf stalking, because that’s truly what it is.
But in the fall, thousands of people come to our little town to do just that, most of them during the first full week of October for our fall festival. Which I will concentrate on after I get my first guest settled in.
Oh, fun. The anxious butterflies brought their friends: the moths of dread.
It’ll be fine, though. Just fine.
I follow Hal to an older red truck that’s towing an even older blue one. It looks like something you might see in a classic movie, with round fenders and a split windshield.
“What ya got here?” I ask, pointing to the truck.
“That’s the favor I need,” he says. “You see, the wife wants me to get rid of it. Says she’s sick of seeing it in our front driveway. But I’m not ready to part with it just yet.”
“Okay?” I’m not sure how this involves me.
“So, I was wondering if I could keep it in your garage around back,” he says, pointing toward the direction of the single-stall, detached garage that the previous owners had built behind the inn.
I was planning to use that garage as a staging area for cutting tile and molding, since doing that inside with a guest staying here seems inadvisable. Especially when said guest could be cooped up in his room building a meth lab, for all I know.
Oh, gosh. I hope not. Then the police would have to get involved, and I’m not sure how that all works.
And then they’d probably have to shut the place down because aren’t those places toxic or something?
Then I’d miss out on money from the rent, and I’d have to tear down the entire house, and can you rebuild an inn in a week? I mean, it’s possible. But—
“Rosie?” Hal asks.
“Sorry,” I say, pulling myself out of my what-ifs.
“What do you say?” Hal asks, patting the hood of his old truck with his hand.
“I’m not sure—”
“It would just be for the week,” Hal cuts in, his bushy eyebrows drooping downward. “It was my dad’s. Can’t bring myself to sell it just yet.”
“Of course,” I tell him, this time without hesitation.
I have stuff from my mom that I’ll never get rid of. Sure, it’s not a massive truck that takes space in my only garage, but . . . I get it.
I’ll just make do for the week. I’m good at making do.
Hal’s crestfallen eyes brighten. “Thank you so much, Rosie. I’ll just get her parked in there, and I’ll be on my way.”
“Sounds good. I’d help, but I . . .” I trail off, hitching a thumb behind me, toward the inn.
He shakes his head. “Don’t you worry about me. Thanks again.”
I smile to myself as I walk back inside, the sound of a hammer mixed with a screeching drill coming through the front door. My mom was always the person who made room when someone needed it. I loved that about her. I still do.
Right now, though, I’ve got an inn to get ready, and it’s going to take every moment that I can spare to do it.
Everything will be fine. Because it has to be.