Local Hero

Hope even as she wagged a finger.
    “What are you doing down here, young lady?”
    “It’s nearly ten.”
    “And your morning off.”
    “Which I spent—so far—sleeping until eight, doing yoga, and putzing.” She helped herself to a mug of coffee, closed her own deep brown eyes as she sipped. “My first cup of the day. Why is it always the best?”
    “I wish I knew. I’m still trying to switch to tea. My Darla’s on a health kick and doing her best to drag me along.” Carolee spoke of her daughter with affection laced with exasperation. “I really like our Titania and Oberon blend. But . . . it’s not coffee.”
    “Nothing is except coffee.”
    “You said it. She can’t wait for the new gym to open. She says if I don’t sign up for yoga classes, she’s signing me up and carting me over there.”
    “You’ll love yoga.” Hope laughed at the doubt—and anxiety—on Carolee’s face. “Honest.”
    “Hmmm.” Carolee lifted the dishcloth again, went back to polishing the granite countertop. “The Vargases loved the room, and as usual the bathroom—starring the magic toilet—got raves. I haven’t heard a peep out of the newlyweds yet.”
    “I’d be disappointed in them if you had.” Hope brushed at her hair. Unlike Carolee, she was experimenting with letting it grow out of the short, sharp wedge she’d sported the last two years. The dark, glossy ends hit her jaw now, just in between enough to be annoying.
    “I’m going to go check on Donna and Max, see if they want anything.”
    “Let me do it,” Hope said. “I want to say good morning anyway, and I think I’ll run down to TTP, say hi to Clare while it’s still my morning off.”
    “I saw her last night at book club. She’s got the cutest baby bump. Oh, I’ve got plenty of batter if they want more pancakes.”
    “I’ll let them know.”
    She slipped into The Dining Room, chatted with the guests while she subtly checked to be sure there were still plenty of fresh summer berries, coffee, juice.
    Once she’d satisfied herself that her guests were happy, she started back upstairs to grab her purse—and ran into the newlyweds as they entered from the rear porch.
    “Good morning.”
    “Oh, good morning.” The new bride carried the afterglow of a honeymoon morning well spent. “That’s the most beautiful room. I love everything about it. I felt like a princess bride.”
    “As you wish,” Hope said and made them both laugh.
    “It’s so clever the way each room is named and decorated for romantic couples.”
    “Couples with happy endings,” Troy reminded her, and got a slow, dreamy smile from his bride.
    “Like us. We want to thank you, so much, for making our wedding night so special. It was everything I wanted. Just perfect.”
    “That’s what we do here.”
    “But . . . we wondered. We know we’re supposed to check out soon . . .”
    “If you’d like a later check-out, I can arrange it,” Hope began.
    “Well, actually . . .”
    “We’re hoping we can stay another night.” Troy slid his arm around April’s shoulders, drew her close. “We really love it here. We were going to drive down into Virginia, just pick our spots as we went, but . . . we really like it right here. We’ll take any room that’s available, if there is one.”
    “We’d love to have you, and your room’s open tonight.”
    “Really?” April bounced on her toes. “Oh, this is better than perfect. Thank you.”
    “It’s our pleasure. I’m glad you’re enjoying your stay.”
    Happy guests made for happy innkeepers, Hope thought as she dashed upstairs for her bag. She dashed back down again, into her office to change the reservation, and with the scents and voices behind her, hurried out the back through Reception.
    She skirted the side of the building, glancing across the street at Vesta. She knew Avery’s and Clare’s schedule nearly as well as her own. Avery would be prepping for opening this morning, and Clare should be back from her early doctor’s appointment.
    The sonogram. With luck, they’d know by now if Clare was carrying the girl she hoped for.
    As she waited for the walk signal at the corner, she looked down Main Street. Ryder Montgomery stood in front of the building Montgomery Family Contractors was currently rehabbing. Nearly done, she thought, and soon the town would have a bakery again.
    He wore jeans torn at the left knee and splattered with drips of paint or drywall compound or whatever else