The Inn at Rose Harbor (27 page)

Josh’s head shot up. “He said that?”

“Yes, don’t look so shocked.”

For one wild instant it actually felt as though his legs were about to go out from under him. Josh sank back down into the chair. “What happened?”

“You mean what changed Richard’s mind?”

“Yes … just yesterday he seemed dead set against me getting that Bible, simply because he knew I wanted it.”

“You’ll have to ask him. Later though. He’s sleeping now.”

Josh reached for the Bible and opened it to the front page. Inside his mother had written her name in fountain pen. For as long as he could remember she had used a fountain pen. She said it was more distinctive. She’d certainly had beautiful handwriting that had lent itself to it. Her letters were filled with delicate loops and a
gentle flourish. It was as if she’d studied cursive from the men who’d signed the Constitution.

Staring down at her name, Josh felt sadness descend upon him. He missed his mother as much as he ever had since she’d died. He raised his hand and ran his finger over her name.

Turning the page, he saw that she’d listed the dates of her two marriages and Josh’s birth date as well. Richard—it could only be him—had entered the date of her birth and death. His abrupt, sharp-angled handwriting was in stark contrast to Teresa’s.

Turning through the pages of the Old Testament, he saw that many of the verses were underlined, with notes written in the margins.

“I wish I’d known her better,” Michelle whispered.

Josh had almost forgotten that Michelle was in the room. He wished he had known his mother better, too, but when she died he was a typical teenager, self-absorbed and selfish. He hadn’t fully comprehended what losing his mother meant. He did now, and the loss was tremendous.

He wondered if that was the way he’d feel at some point in the future when it came to Richard, and doubted it. For all the bad blood between them, it would take more than the return of his mother’s Bible for him to let go of the past.

Michelle sat down across from him and he offered her a weak smile. He paged through his mother’s Bible for a few more minutes and then decided to look in on Richard.

The bedroom door creaked softly as he opened it. Richard’s eyes fluttered open and when he saw it was Josh, he rolled his head to the side as though to avoid eye contact.

Josh entered the bedroom and stopped at the foot of the bed. “I suppose I should thank you.”

“Your mother would have wanted you to have it.”

Josh bit his tongue to keep from saying that Richard could have given it to him a long time ago.

“Why give it to me now?”

Richard looked at him. “I loved her. You can hate me if you want—I know you do. I suppose I’ve given you reason enough.”

“You have,” Josh said. They were long past the point of sugarcoating the truth. “I needed a father and you were so cold, so unfeeling toward me—it was worse than not having one at all.”

Richard briefly closed his eyes and said, “I may have failed you … I guess I did, but your mother was everything to me.”

For Richard to admit his shortcomings stunned Josh, but he said nothing.

“I had a bad first marriage. Dylan’s mother …” the rest faded as if he no longer had the strength to speak. “Teresa … was my soul mate.”

Josh longed to ask the old man why he hated him so much, but he already had the answer. In retrospect it was perfectly clear, perfectly understandable. Josh had been competition for Teresa’s attention. She loved them both and each one had wanted, needed her to love them first and foremost. His mother had been in a no-win situation, loving her husband and her son and left to deal with this battle of wills between the two of them.

“Thank you for the Bible,” Josh whispered.

“I kept it because I wanted to hold on to a piece of her.”

Josh understood that.

“I’d left instructions for it to be placed in the casket with me … but I just dictated a note to change that. You can take it.”

Josh planned to do exactly that, instructions or not. This Bible belonged with him, not in the cold ground with Richard.

Richard closed his eyes again. Whether it was because talking had exhausted him or he was asleep, Josh didn’t know. He had what he wanted, or at least part of what he’d hoped to collect, and for now that was enough. Turning, he left the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

Michelle looked up when he emerged from Richard’s bedroom.

“He didn’t plan to give it to me,” Josh told her. “He said he’d originally planned to have it buried with him.”

“I know,” she returned. “He had me write out a statement for him to sign that said he’d had a change of heart and wanted you to have the Bible.”

“Big of him,” Josh murmured.

“Yes, it was,” she countered swiftly, heatedly. “What is it with you?” she demanded. “Don’t you appreciate anything?”

“Apparently the fact that the Bible should rightly go to me in the first place doesn’t mean anything,” he shot back.

Their gazes clashed for several heartbeats. “I need some fresh air,” she announced, and reached for her coat on her way out the door.

Josh thought to stop her. She was halfway outside when he raised his hand, but he didn’t know what to say. Perhaps this was for the best.

His shoulders sank as the door clicked closed. Door after door had closed on him after his mother’s death. Why this one should bother him as much as it did was beyond him.

I was looking forward to my visit to the library. I’ve always been a big reader and thought I might eventually volunteer as a Friend of the Library.

Meeting Grace and Judge Olivia earlier over lunch had been a welcome surprise. I hadn’t thought I’d make connections in my new home so quickly. I’d worried I’d be a bit isolated in this town where I knew no one. I recognized right away that these two successful women would be excellent role models for me. I could learn a good deal about business and life from them, and hoped to cultivate their friendship.

The walk to the library took only a few moments. The building was made of cement blocks with a large mural on the side that
faced the marina. The wind blew off the water and boats gently bobbed in the swells.

The library mural depicted a woman from the 1800s holding a lantern and looking out to sea, presumably waiting for the return of her husband, a fisherman or sailor. Two small children were at her side. It seemed to be freshly painted.

The double glass doors opened automatically as I approached. Once inside I felt a welcome rush of warm air. I noticed a long counter for checking out books was set off to one side. An information booth was more centrally located. Both counters were manned.

“Jo Marie.”

I heard my name and turned around to discover Grace walking toward me.

“Oh, hi! I came in to sign up for a library card,” I told her.

“Wonderful,” Grace said, brightening. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you where you can fill out the form.”

“Perfect.” She led me to a computer stand and brought up the appropriate page. She’d just finished explaining what I needed to do when an employee approached her with a request.

“If you’ll excuse me for a moment,” Grace said.

“Of course.” I hadn’t expected her to drop everything just for me. It only took me a few minutes to complete the form and submit the information. I was told that my name would be entered into the system and I would be issued a card within five to seven working days.

Grace returned. “Would you like a tour of the library?”

“That would be great if you have the time.”

We started toward the back of the large open area that was clearly for children. “We recently started a ‘Reading with Rover’ program for children with reading difficulties,” she explained. “Beth Morehouse brings in dogs for the children.”

“Dogs?” I asked.

“Yes, the children read to them—it puts them at ease and helps them relax. A dog isn’t judgmental if they stumble over a word, and volunteers are available to help. I know it sounds funny, but you’d be amazed at how much this program has helped these slow readers.”

“Do you need any more volunteers?” I asked.

“How kind of you to offer, but thankfully we have more than enough volunteers. You never know when that could change, though. I’ll put your name down for the future. However, if you’re looking …” she paused and studied me. “How are you with animals?”

I wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “Fine, I guess.”

“Do you like dogs?”

“I love them. But while I was working full-time it didn’t seem fair to have one that I left home alone all day.”

Grace beamed me a huge smile. “How would you feel about adopting a dog?”

“Adopting a dog?”

“I volunteer at the local animal shelter,” she explained, “and we’ve currently got a large dog population. I was thinking you might want to adopt a pet.”

Instantly a long list of reasons to reject the idea came to mind. First off, having a dog would limit my business at the inn—anyone allergic or simply not fond of animals would certainly pass me over. I’m fond of dogs but I haven’t had one since I was a kid. Did I really have the time to care for a dog? They could be labor intensive. I’d already made several big changes in my life and I wasn’t sure I was up to another.

Grace must have read the reluctance in my expression because she added, “A dog, especially a larger one, would offer you protection and is such pleasant company.” She smiled. “Years ago now, when I was single, I got a sweet-natured golden retriever named Buttercup. She was my constant companion. It was the first time in
my life that I lived alone and I can’t tell you what a comfort Buttercup was to me.”

I’d been on my own nearly my entire adult life, so it wasn’t the same for me. Still, Grace brought up a good point. A dog, especially of a larger breed, could offer me a certain amount of security. The world is full of men like Spenser who would be eager to take advantage of me. And when it came to taking in guests, well, I couldn’t be sure what type of people they would be—having a large dog at my side wasn’t such a bad idea.

“I think getting a dog is an excellent suggestion,” I said, mulling it over. I was tempted but concerned, too. “My only worry is that it might be an issue for my guests.”

“Think about it,” Grace said. “I bet it’s something you could work around. For dog lovers, it would probably be a selling point for the inn.”

“I do like the idea …”

Grace appeared delighted by my interest. “Now is an especially good time. Like I said, the shelter has a big selection with several breeds available for adoption.” She led me over to the counter and wrote down the address and tore the sheet of paper from the tablet.

A dog. Well, this should be interesting. I might take a look later and see what animals were available.

My errands completed, I walked back to the inn, thinking long and hard about adopting a dog. I’d always heard German shepherds were excellent dogs. A German shepherd would make a superb guard dog. It wouldn’t hurt to check out the shelter and get the necessary information before I made a final decision. I’d also need to get the name of a dog trainer and find out about obedience classes.

With a sense of purpose, I got into my car and entered the address in my navigational system. The shelter was only ten minutes away, and as I drove, I could almost feel Paul’s approval. Getting a
dog would have pleased him. I remember him talking about his childhood pet named Rover, an Alaskan husky.

As soon as I entered, I could hear dogs barking in the background. I approached the counter and was greeted by a volunteer.

“Hello,” I said. “I’ve come to see the animals … I’m thinking of adopting a dog—preferably a larger breed.”

“We have several. You’ll need to fill out the paperwork first. Once you’ve been approved you’ll be able to make your selection.”

Approved? All I wanted to do was take a look, but it might make sense to get all the paperwork out of the way just in case I found an animal I felt I could adopt. Owning any pet was a responsibility, so I could understand why the shelter wanted to be sure the animals in their care went into healthy living environments.

I was handed a clipboard with the application. I found a quiet corner where I could sit and fill it out. It took me a few minutes and when I was finished I had to wait to hand the clipboard back to the volunteer.

“Thanks—a member of our staff will review the application and let you know in a few minutes. You can wait here if you’d like.”

“Oh, sure.” I had to wonder if things were moving more quickly than I wanted them to. After all, I’d just come to look. I hadn’t made a decision, and yet I could feel myself leaning toward the idea. I wasn’t an impulsive person by nature, and yet I’d made a number of major decisions in the last few months based on emotion. That wasn’t like me. I suppose this sudden departure from my usual behavior could be part of the grieving process, but I couldn’t say that for sure. I shifted, suddenly uncomfortable, and glanced toward the door, briefly wondering if anyone would notice if I simply left. My heart started to pound and my knees felt as if they wouldn’t support me. What did I really know about dogs? Very little. I’d had enough change in my life and I certainly didn’t need to add more.

Feeling unusually warm, I unbuttoned my coat. I continued to waver, but just when I was about to leave, a volunteer approached me. He smiled and said, “Come this way.”

“I … I’ve had a change of heart,” I said, stumbling over the sentence. “I mean I like animals but …”

“Hmm … I understand, but why don’t you take a look at the dogs available for adoption, before you make up your mind.”

“Ah …” Still, I hesitated.

This young man wasn’t taking no for an answer. “This way,” he said, and ushered me into the back of the shelter. He held open the door for me, and I noticed the clipboard with my application was in his hand. “My name’s Neal, by the way.”

“Hello Neal … I’m Jo Marie. Do you know Grace Harding?” I asked, to cover my nervousness. “She’s the one who recommended I adopt a pet.”

Neal broke into a big grin. “Grace and I both volunteer on Saturdays. She got called into work this morning unfortunately. I see she’s still doing her best even when she’s not here to find good homes for the shelter animals.” He led the way down a long hallway with cages on both sides. The dogs inside lay sprawled out, most of them napping. Water and food dishes were set off to one side of the enclosure.