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  They’d had their marriage annulled, a complicated and painful process. The following New Year’s Day, Nerissa married a neurologist who wasn’t interested in sports. In addition, Mark didn’t really mind attending fundraisers and he wore suits to the hospital. Their first child was born on Ben’s birthday—they asked him to be the godfather.

  With a sigh, Ben hung the dish towels on the rack in the laundry room and came back into the kitchen.

  “Ben?” Her arms full of towels, Kate looked up at him, her expression serious. And longing.

  The longing broke his heart.

  “Don’t you still want kids?” she asked quietly.

  The question fell into a silence so heavy it felt like rain. He wanted to say what she wanted to hear. He wanted—more than anything in the world—to want what she wanted. But one thing they’d always counted on from each other was truth.

  He cupped her face in his hands, meeting her eyes before he bent his head and kissed her. “I wish I did, short woman,” he said gently, “but no.”

  * * *

  IT WAS AS though she’d lost him all over again, Kate thought, plying a hoe to the rows of green beans in the garden on Alcott Street. Not that he’d been hers to lose. But their friendship had grown and deepened in these days of spring. They’d cultivated it just as she was doing with these beans, with late-night visits to the Bagel Stop and working together at both the tavern and the bed-and-breakfast. They spent time with Jayson, played cards with Dan and Penny, and went to Little League games to watch Josh and Michael. Kate nearly fell through the bleachers in her excitement when Josh hit a grand slam and Ben had rescued her, cheering all the while.

  They’d kissed on the porch, in the kitchen, in his suite when she went over to change the sheets, and each time she’d felt that warming, curling feeling of the old magic. The ache of losing her house eased because as long as he was there, she felt as though she was home.

  “It’s pathetic,” she muttered, using short, chopping strokes with the hoe. “You’re on the ugly end of your thirties and the biggest thrill of your life is your high school boyfriend. He’s been working in Boston for two days and it feels like a month. Grow up, Rafael.”

  “Talking to yourself, Katy?” Penny’s voice came to her from the radish row. “I’m pulling a mess of these. Do you want some for the B and B?”

  “Yes. Hi there, Bill Joe.” Kate held out her arms for the toddler, who tumbled across the garden toward her. “How are you today?”

  She hugged him close, inhaling the sweet baby scent of him. “How could your mother let you go?” she murmured, rubbing noses with him and grinning when he giggled.

  “Don’t be so judgmental. His mother has two other children, one of them disabled, and a minimum-wage job. She just got rid of an abusive husband and she’s overwhelmed,” said Penny, frowning at Kate. “She calls Bill Joe every day.”

  “Oh.” Kate gave an embarrassed shrug. “Sorry. I think I’m at a poor-little-me point as far as children go. Seems as though everyone but me has some.”

  “Ben doesn’t have any. He doesn’t even have a dog. Or a cat. Lucy and Dirty Sally are so sorry for him it’s pathetic to watch.” Penny laid the bunches of radishes in Bill Joe’s wagon and stepped over to the carrots.

  “He doesn’t want them. Kids anyway. I don’t know about pets.” Kate set the little boy down in the space between the rows, handing him a shovel and pail from the wagon. “I was going to ask him if he’d give me a baby. We’re friends, we’re close, we know each other inside and out, so I thought it would be something he’d do. But he doesn’t want kids at all. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was.”

  Penny was silent, kneeling among the carrots, waiting. When Bill Joe crawled to her, she picked him up, nestling his head into her shoulder and dropping a kiss on his curls. Kate nearly choked on the love and the envy that rose in her.

  Penny swayed side to side in an unconscious mommy dance. “What are you going to do, Kate?”

  “I don’t know.” Kate took the hoe over to the garden shed that had appeared unexplained on the property a couple of days after they’d planted the garden. “And that’s a frustration, because I feel as though I’ve been saying ‘I don’t know’ ever since I lost my job. I don’t know where I’m going to work when Marce comes back. I don’t know where I’m going to live. I don’t even know how to go about having a family.” She smiled ruefully. “Poor little me.”

  “Yo, ladies!”

  They both looked up to see Dan walking across the lot with Jayson at his side. The officer was in uniform and his cruiser was parked at the curb.

  “What’s up?” asked Kate, giving Jayson a one-armed hug and squinting at Dan.

  “Debby’s working a double at the Bagel Stop.” Dan took Bill Joe from Penny and kissed her in the process. “Jayson was there last night, which was okay, but he’s getting a little antsy this morning and she was having some trouble keeping all the balls in the air. I figured he could stay with one of you,” he finished apologetically.

  “With me,” said Kate instantly. “Jayson, do you want to weed the flowers while I finish the vegetables?”

  “Sure!” He looked delighted. “Do you think Ben will give me another bicycle lesson today? It’s Saturday, isn’t it?” Ben gave him lessons on Sunday afternoons and one weekday evening, but Jayson hadn’t yet conquered the concept of days of the week. He thought every day was Saturday and that he should have a lesson on all of them.

  “Not today. He’s in Boston and won’t be back till Friday. That’s two sleeps, so you’re stuck with me. We can watch Cars again.” Cars was Jayson’s favorite movie—he knew most of the dialogue by heart. So did Kate, by osmosis.

  “Can we have popcorn and apples together?”

  “No. It’s lunchtime, so you have to eat some soup and a sandwich. We have popcorn and apples together at night.” This was not strictly true—Kate had been known to have them for breakfast—but she didn’t mind fibbing in the interest of being a good influence.

  “Okay,” he grumbled.

  When they finished, Penny walked back to the inn with Kate, Jayson walking ahead and pulling Bill Joe in his wagon.

  “You’re so patient with him,” said Penny quietly, nodding toward Jayson. “I think I’m a good mom, but when it comes to any kind of special needs, I’m a total loss. If I can’t put a Band-Aid and a kiss on it, I can’t fix it. I used to wonder if I could have dealt with our own kids if they’d had problems other than being just like their father.”

  “You could, if that’s who you were caring for,” said Kate. She smiled at her friend. “It just takes a different kind of Band-Aid.”

  * * *

  IT SURPRISED KATE how much she missed Ben while he was gone. Wednesday had been very busy, spent in the garden and with Jayson, so it had gone quickly. The second day, the inn had been empty of guests and she hadn’t seen anyone all day. She had even dusted all the collectible figurines in the glass cases in the dining room, something she would take care to avoid doing again. Dinner had been a bologna sandwich and a glass of sweet tea while she watched reruns of Big Bang Theory.

  Ben leaned into the bed-and-breakfast’s kitchen when he got back on Friday afternoon, and her heart quickened, beating a tattoo against her ribs that made her a little light-headed.

  “I’m off to the tavern pretty soon,” he said. “Morgan’s talking mutiny, so I’m working the weekend. See you later.” He ducked out, only to stick his head back in a moment later. “If I need you, will you come and help?”

  She thought for a moment of her weekend plans. There was a trip to the wholesale grocer tomorrow afternoon and church on Sunday. At some point, she would most likely clip her toenails and work highlights through her hair.

  She could probably spare the time.

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll take you bowling Sunday night,” he promised. “Not that you could beat me, but it will be fun.”

  She snorted. “On your best day, if I gave
you twenty pins, you couldn’t beat me.”

  “Those are mighty big words for such a little woman who probably doesn’t remember where the bowling alley is,” he drawled.

  She laughed. “You forget, tall guy, I stayed here while you went to the big city. I bowl on a league in the winter and teach it to kids on Saturday mornings from January through March. Winner buys dinner? Just remember how much I like steak.”

  “Uh-oh, I’m scared.” With a wave, he was gone, loping across the yard to his apartment, and Kate sighed, feeling the emptiness he left in his wake. She kneaded dough for the weekend’s cinnamon rolls, pushing and pushing and turning over and trying not to hurt.

  She liked being a temporary innkeeper. It was interesting meeting guests from faraway places and walks of life she knew nothing about. After nearly twenty years of living alone, she enjoyed sharing space with other people, especially since she had plenty of room and time to be alone if that was what she wanted.

  But it wasn’t enough. She wanted a family. She wanted children she didn’t have to give back and she wanted to be in love. She wanted a man to look at her the way Dan looked at Penny.

  She thumped the dough into a greased bowl and placed it on top of the refrigerator.

  Standing at the sink, washing her hands, she watched Ben’s bicycle ride away. He’d been wearing a helmet all the time lately as part of teaching Jayson to ride. It made him look a little goofy, and she’d laughed uproariously the first time she saw it. His response had been to buy her a matching helmet and refuse to ride with her unless she was wearing it.

  What a great father he would be.

  There’s an emptiness to it, she remembered her sister Sarah saying during the couple of years she and Chris had had fertility problems. It seems as though everyone we know is either pregnant or they already have children. I don’t know what to talk about anymore.

  Kate had seldom felt that kind of emptiness. She had friends, such as Joann, who had chosen to remain both single and childless and were perfectly happy that way. Kate had never minded it, either. Until recently. Until the doctor reminded her as kindly as he could that her reproductive time was running out.

  She didn’t have a “why me?” personality. She’d even printed “Why not me?” in a 72-point font and stuck the paper to the front of the inn’s refrigerator to remind herself that she wasn’t the only person whose dreams had been deferred. She hadn’t really cried over her house until Penny poured her a pint Mason jar full of wine and told her no one liked a martyr. Then, of course, she had wept buckets. She didn’t like martyrs, either.

  The truth was she didn’t want to be a single parent. She didn’t think it was wrong—some of the best parents she knew were doing it on their own—but it wasn’t right for her. She wanted not only a basketball hoop in the driveway, but a tall guard to partner up with her small forward in the game of parenting.

  The thought drew her glance to the front of the refrigerator. Beside her self-directed “Why not me?” sign was a snapshot of Ben and Jayson on the inn’s driveway. Jayson was mid-dribble with the basketball, his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth as he concentrated. Ben’s arms were up, and only someone who knew him well could tell he wasn’t really trying to stop his opponent.

  What a great dad he would be, she thought again. What a great guard.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “IS HE GOING to be here?” asked Mrs. Hylton-Wise.

  The woman’s voice—and the words she said—sounded as though they’d come from a 1940s B movie. She wasn’t that old, probably mid-sixties, and she was beautiful. Her hair was shiny silver, deliberately tousled around her perfectly made up face.

  Startled, Kate looked up from where she was entering credit card information into the inn’s computer. “Excuse me?”

  “That young man.” A forefinger with an extremely long rose-colored nail stabbed through the air in the direction of where Jayson sat in the parlor with a guest, perusing flash cards. “He doesn’t live here now, does he?”

  “No, ma’am, but he’s in and out. He’s one of our best neighbors.” Kate felt anger working its way up the back of her neck. “Does that present a problem?”

  “If Mrs. Comer were here, she would never permit an outsider to make himself at home among the guests the way he is.”

  “I’m sorry if it makes you uneasy,” said Kate evenly, “but Jayson is a frequent and valued visitor at Kingdom Comer. If you like, I’ll be happy to call Traveler’s Rest and see if they have a vacancy.”

  Mrs. Hylton-Wise drew herself up very straight. “I will stay here, as I always do, but Mrs. Comer will hear about this. You might very well find yourself unemployed. Not a good situation in this day and age. Please see that my bags are brought up immediately.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Kate handed the woman her credit card and her key. “You’re in the suite at the back, where I believe you always stay. Is there anything we can do to make your visit more pleasurable?”

  “Bring coffee up, too, with cream and sugar and cookies if they’re fresh.” The woman stalked away to the small elevator at the end of the hall, and Kate waited, certain she would demand that someone operate it for her.

  She didn’t, however, and Kate went over to where the woman’s elderly and arthritic driver had left her considerable luggage.

  “Jayson, will you answer the phone if it rings?”

  “Sure, Kate.” He came over to where she was loading herself down with bags. “I can help. Ben says I’m strong.”

  “And you are, but I can do this.” Jayson was afraid of the elevator and she was unwilling to carry everything up the stairs. She also didn’t want to put Jayson in the way of any more of the new guest’s vitriol.

  She reached to ruffle his thin brown hair. “If you dropped the heavy one, you’d fall through the floor.”

  “You’re goofy, Kate.” He beamed at her, and she had to blink back sudden tears. How could the nasty guest upstairs be mean to such a sweet person?

  In the next half hour, Kate managed to deliver everything to Mrs. Hylton-Wise’s room. She also took up two pots of coffee because the insufferable woman insisted the first one was cold. Then she went into the kitchen and called Marce.

  “I’m afraid I’m not being good for business,” she said without preamble when the other woman answered.

  Marce laughed. “What’s going on?”

  “Do you remember a Mrs. Hylton-Wise?”

  “Oh, dear.”

  Kate explained about the woman’s objection to Jayson. “I know I can take him home, but it’s such a godsend for Debby if he can spend a few hours here. I like having him around, too, but the inn is still yours. I want to handle this the way you would.”

  “Well, the first year she came to stay at Kingdom Comer, the girls were roller-skating through the center hallway when she came down the stairs. Mrs. H-W had a fit. Frank just walked up to her and said, ‘Ma’am, you will not insult my family in their own home. You may shut up or you may leave.’ She chose to shut up and has come back every year since and stays for weeks at a time.”

  Kate frowned. “What does she do here? I can’t quite imagine her riding or hiking the trails. I love Fionnegan, but unless you’re a leaf peeper in the fall, we don’t have all that much to do.”

  “She has a home somewhere on Wish Mountain. She goes there when she comes to the inn, but she never says anything about it and she never stays there. I have no idea why. She has a good heart—even helped at the inn when Frank died. We were right in the middle of the fall rush and I was useless. I wanted to close the B and B for a few weeks, but she said I shouldn’t—she knew I needed the money. She just stepped up and did what needed doing. I didn’t want to take payment for her being there, but she insisted. I know she can be difficult sometimes, but she’s by way of being a friend, too.”

  Marce was silent for a moment, and Kate felt grief in the gap, but then she went on. “Jayson may not be family, but the truth is that Frank wouldn’t stand for anyone
being insulted at the inn. You don’t have to stand for it, either. I don’t care how good a customer or friend she is.”

  Kate breathed a relieved though unsurprised sigh, but the hushed sound of Marce’s sorrow gave her pause. “Marce?” she said. “Are you ready to come home? Because you can, you know—I’m only keeping your spot warm. It’s still yours.”

  Again the hesitation. “Yes,” said Marce, “and no. The girls are having the best time. One of them is working as a lifeguard and the other is waiting tables at the resort. There are boys and dances and fishing and sitting on the porch late at night.” She laughed tremulously. “They’re old enough to stay here by themselves, but I’m too old to let them. They’re so close to being on their own, I hate to give up this time.”

  “Just remember that you don’t have to stay away because of me. I can get an apartment anytime.”

  “Thanks, Kate. So, is Ben still there?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “How’s that going?”

  “Fine. He’s tending bar and working at the emergency room occasionally and back in Boston a day or two each week. Lucy and Sally spend all their time either with him or waiting for him to come home. Penny thinks they’re sorry for him because he doesn’t have any pets of his own.”

  “And what about you? Are you either with him or waiting for him to come home?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Marce’s laugh was soft. Empathetic. “You’re a terrible liar.”

  Kate laughed, too, though it sounded a bit hollow to her own ears. “Another talent I can’t lay claim to. Well, waiting or not, there’s a baby shower here in another hour and I need to get the buffet set up before Penny gets here with the food. Have fun, Marce.”

  “You, too.”

  That wasn’t going to happen. Kate hated baby showers. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, they reminded her of what she didn’t have.