5. Chapter 5 #2
Rabble dropped the experienced duffle bag at his feet and waited, taking in the cream and navy floral wallpaper and the dark-stained wooden chair-rail that dressed the lower third of each wall.
Though the windows remained shut to keep out the summer heat, someone had drawn back the sheer curtains, allowing the natural light to illuminate the space.
The bed and breakfast boasted four bedrooms, three on the second level and one on the first, two shared bathrooms and two common gathering spaces, the living area and dining rooms respectively.
Even though their stay included breakfast and lunch, Mrs. Basket always made enough dinner to share with any of her guests.
After a minute or two passed, a teenage girl hurried from the direction of the kitchen, her ginger red hair falling free of her braid and tangling in her face. She brushed it away with an impatient hand and rushed to the rolltop desk that sat against the wall.
“Checking in?” she asked, carefully rolling back the top of the desk and grabbing a pen.
Rabble snorted. Based on the number of pens inside the antique desk, Mrs. Basket still preferred paper to any form of electronic management system.
“Yeah, three rooms if you have them. We’ll pay by the night, but let’s start with four,” he said, pulling out his wallet.
Rabble grabbed his driver license and the company credit card, then stood still and silent while the girl tallied the cost per night. When she gave him the number, he handed over his cards.
“Where’s Sylvie?” he wondered aloud.
“Who? Oh, Mrs. Basket? She’s around here somewhere.” The girl worked while she spoke, keeping her eyes focused on the papers before her. “She still wants to be involved in everything, but I try to make her take it easy when I can. Last I saw, she was hanging a load of sheets out to dry.”
The girl smiled as she spoke about the older woman. That someone cared for Mrs. Basket as much as he had warmed Rabble’s heart.
“I’m Olivia.” The girl held out her hand for him to shake. “I’m around every day after 3:00 p.m. and in the morning on the weekends. If you need help with anything housekeeping-related, I’m happy to help when I get out of school.”
Rabble shook her hand and returned her smile. “I’m Rabble. The other two rooms are for Declan and Dash MacAlister; they’ll be here later.”
Olivia handed Rabble a key to the Green Room and said she’d be cleaning the first floor for another hour or so if he needed anything.
After thanking her, Rabble took the steps up to his assigned room.
She would never know his thanks were less about the room and more for the care she showed Mrs. Basket while he had run off to the ends of the Earth.
The Green Room was aptly named, and Rabble couldn’t help but chuckle at the décor.
When Mrs. Basket had been redecorating, she’d asked his opinion on colors and furnishings.
Being a teenage boy lost in his own angst, he honestly hadn’t been able to muster enough energy to care about wall coverings or paint colors.
Later, he wished he’d had the heart to tell her that there was such thing as too much green.
The emerald rug centered under the four-poster dark-wood bedframe marked just the beginning.
She’d chosen bed sheets and pillows in differing shades of forest and army, while the walls were a printed pattern of dark leaves on a sage background.
The heavy wood furniture and the burlap wall prints barely made a difference in the overwhelming sea of green.
Rabble hoped he could catch the look on his brother’s faces when they arrived.
Declan and Dash would be equally confounded by their rooms, each similarly decorated in shades of blue and orange.
Throwing his duffle on the bed, Rabble set his laptop on the desk, pulled up the file on Bekah’s relocation, and reviewed the details, recommitting them to memory.
Declan and Dash had set up alarms and other sensors at the rental.
But despite Bekah’s desire for safety in her relocation, she had drawn lines at too many security measures, albeit politely, but they would continue to monitor her situation and make updates as necessary until a predetermined amount of time had passed without contact from her ex-husband.
As Rabble reviewed the rest of her plan, trying to root out any flaws or loopholes that might have slipped past him, he rubbed his eyes and shut the computer down. The words blurred together, and his eyes strained against the harsh blue light of his laptop.
Despite his fond memories of the bed and breakfast, he felt antsy and trapped, but outside—well, that might be worse.
Seeing Skye had been an unwelcome shock, one he hadn’t prepared for, assuming she’d left Shiloh Hills in the dust as surely as he had.
Instead, he found her, a woman in her own right now.
Her long hair a bit darker than it had been, her eyes a bit more wary.
He’d taken her in, like a man starving at a feast he couldn’t touch or taste.
She’d been beautiful before, all heart-shaped face and forgiving grace.
Now though, she moved beyond beauty, embracing the years with a radiance that shone around her.
Thinking about Skye grew his agitation and Rabble changed into gym shorts to run through a grueling regime, stretching and working his muscles to release some of the tension he’d built since arriving in town.
He was still counting push-ups when heavy boots sounded outside his room, nearby doors opened, and matching muffled expletives sounded through his closed door.
The twins had arrived and were now experiencing the wonder of the Sunny Morning Trellis bed and breakfast.