“Excuse me?”
“That all of you look so much alike,” she explained. “You look as if you’re seeing it for the first time.”
“Oh, yeah.” He was taken off guard, not only by her unexpected presence but by the softness of her breath on the back of his neck when she’d whispered to him. “You’re right. There is a really strong family resemblance.”
“Even Mia looks like the rest of you,” she went on. “Only prettier than you guys. No offense.”
“She is prettier than I am. Thank God. And certainly, Mia’s prettier than Andy here.” He pointed to his brother, who looked up at the sound of his name. “Our cousin Connor, though-I don’t know if anyone’s prettier than he is.”
The chairs emptied as the entire group rose with a collective whoop to descend upon Grady with hugs and slaps on the back. When the greetings had concluded and everyone gravitated back to their seats, Grady turned to introduce Vanessa, but she was gone.
From time to time throughout the evening, he caught a glimpse of her in the midst of this circle or that. It was clear that she knew everyone at the party, and was not only comfortable there, but an adept conversationalist as well, enough so that she chatted with each of the guests for what appeared to be more than a “hello, how are you?” Every once in a while, he caught the sound of her laughter, and he’d instinctively turned to it.
Once or twice, he’d caught her eye, but he never managed to speak with her again. When he left the party and returned to his room at the Inn for the night, he left alone. But he took with him the image of her face and the scent that had floated lightly around her, much as her dress had done, a scent that reminded him of some flower that his mother had liked so much that she always had them in the house when they were in season but he couldn’t recall their name.
Then there was the disturbing thought that-his protestations to his sister aside-he just might be more interested in Vanessa Keaton than he’d like to be.
In his mind he went back over the scraps of conversation he’d shared with her, and realized he’d learned nothing about her except that she was Beck’s sister, but he’d already known that-Beck’s half sister, he recalled Mia saying-and that she owned a shop where she sold what she called “girlie things.” Well, she was certainly girlie-in the way that Mia was, anyway. They were both pretty and soft and feminine. Of course, he recalled, Mia was also a deadly shot and had been top of her class in martial arts.
He opened the door and stepped out onto the balcony and caught the salty night air, and wondered what more he might learn about Vanessa Keaton before the week was over.
“Here you go, Miss Grace.” Vanessa stopped in front of the old Federal-style mansion that had tall columns reaching to the third floor. It had been updated sometime in the 1800s by one of Miss Grace’s late husband’s great-somethings, adding porches to the second and third floors to match the one on the ground level. “Door-to-door service.”
“I appreciate the ride all the way out here, dear.” The older woman sat with her purse on her lap. “I wasn’t ready to leave the party when my son was. Daniel had to get the kids to bed early. It may have been a party night for us, but it’s a school night for them.”
“I didn’t mind a bit.” Vanessa smiled. “I love to come out here. I love the drive down that long lane and seeing this beautiful house sitting there with the Bay behind it. I think it was wonderful that your family turned it into an inn so that everyone could enjoy it.”
“Well, it was my husband’s family, not mine. But yes, the old place makes for a fine inn. We spent many happy years here, running it, Dan and I did.” She nodded as if in satisfaction for those years. “Once he was gone, I didn’t mind turning it over to our son. Daniel has turned out to be an excellent innkeeper. He’s made some changes that I didn’t understand at first, but I bit my tongue. Turns out all that stuff-the playground, the guided nature walks, all those classes for children, the art classes, the yoga-it all made my head spin when Daniel first started talking about it, but I have to admit, it’s all been very profitable. Between all those activities and the children, he keeps very busy. Barely has a minute for a life of his own.” Grace stared out the window toward the Bay. “I’m sure you heard about his wife’s drowning…”
Vanessa nodded. “I did. It happened the year before I came to St. Dennis. It was such a sad thing.”
“It was a terrible tragedy.” Grace sighed as she unbuckled her seat belt. “I keep wishing that Daniel would meet someone. He’s too young to be alone for the rest of his life.”
“Well, maybe someday the right woman will walk through those big double doors and just knock him dead,” Vanessa said.
“Now that’s a happy thought for me to take with me tonight.” Grace reached over and squeezed Vanessa’s hand, then opened the car door. “You know, I’ve always prided myself on being quite the matchmaker-you wouldn’t believe some of the couples I’ve gotten together-but when it comes to my own son, I just don’t seem to have the right touch.”
“He’ll find the right person on his own, or she’ll find him,” Vanessa assured her.
“Of course, you’re right, dear.” Grace got out of the car, but before she closed her door, she said, “I’ve been meaning to tell you what a terrific addition Bling is to the shopping area. You’ve brought in some lovely things, Vanessa. Your windows are always such a pleasure to look at. We’re hoping you’re planning on staying for a good long time.”
“Thank you, Miss Grace. I appreciate that.”
“Will we see you for morning coffee tomorrow?”
“I’ll be there.”
“Good. And thank you again for the ride.” Grace slammed the car door and walked to the Inn’s front doors.
Vanessa drove slowly down the long lane between the Inn and the main road that led back into town. It was all she could do not to shout “woo-hoo!” as she peeled out of the drive, still smiling with pleasure at Grace Sinclair’s compliment.
It hadn’t taken Vanessa very long to figure out that there were two St. Dennises. There was the St. Dennis of the tourists and the summer people, and there was old St. Dennis. Miss Grace was about as old St. Dennis as it was possible to be. Not just her family, the Abernathys, but the family she married into, the Sinclairs, were land-grant families, here since the earliest days. Of course, Hal’s family was, too, and Vanessa was certain that this fact had guaranteed that most people in town would be polite to her, if not accepting, since Hal had claimed her as one of his. But Miss Grace had always been just a little more warm, a little more kind, than most of the others had, at the beginning, anyway. These days, things were fine for Vanessa, better than fine, actually, with just about everyone in town. But Miss Grace still somehow managed to go above the level of ordinary kindness, to make Vanessa feel as if she really did belong there.
On the drive home, she repeated the compliments.
… what a terrific addition Bling is… brought in some lovely things… windows always such a pleasure… hoping you’re planning on staying for a good long time.
Thank you, Miss Grace. Yes, I’m planning on staying. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
This is my home now, she thought as she parked in her driveway. Everyone and everything that matters to me… Hal, Beck, Mia, Steffie, my shop-my beautiful little shop-my wonderful little house… everything I love is here in St. Dennis.
Oh, yes, Miss Grace, I’m not going anywhere.
Diary-
Attended a lovely party on Sunday afternoon for our own Chief Beck and his beautiful bride-to-be, hosted by the father of the groom, my dear friend Hal. Nice to have met so many of the bride’s relatives, all in from out of town (and all booked at the Inn for the entire week-Daniel couldn’t be more pleased that Beck recommended us). Mia’s people are all in the FBI, except for one brother who lives in Montana and, if talk is to be believed, is a bit of a tragic figure. The story is that he’s mourning the death of his wife at the hands of his very own brother! Tragic indeed! That is, of course, if it’s true… Small-town talk being such as it is, well, who knows what the whole story-the real story-might be?