The Welcoming

to have you.”
    Her wide face colored a bit, but she kept her voice brisk. “Around here, we got each other. You’re all right,” she added. “I wasn’t sure of it when you first came around, but you’re all right.”
    ***
    He was ready for her when she came back. Even as she stepped out of the van he was walking across the gravel lot, the wicker hamper in his hand.
    “Hi.”
    “Hi.” She greeted him with a smile and a quick kiss. Despite the two teenagers shooting hoops on the nearby court, Roman wrapped an arm around her and brought her hard against him for a longer, more satisfying embrace. “Well . . .” She had to take a deep breath and steady herself against the van. “Hello again.” She noted then that he had pulled a loose black sweater over his jeans and was carrying a hamper. “What’s this?”
    “It’s a basket,” he told her. “Mae put a few things in it for me. It’s my day off.”
    “Oh.” She tossed her braid behind her back. “That’s right. Where are you off to?”
    “Out on the water, if I can use the boat.”
    “Sure.” She glanced up at the sky, a bit wistfully. “It’s a great day for it. Light wind, hardly a cloud.”
    “Then let’s go.”
    “Let’s?” He was already pulling her toward the pier. “Oh, Roman, I can’t. I have dozens of things to do this afternoon. And I . . .” She didn’t want to admit she wasn’t ready to go out on the water again. “I can’t.”
    “I’ll have you back before the dinner shift.” He laid a hand on her cheek. “I need you with me, Charity. I need to spend some time with you, alone.”
    “Maybe we could go for a drive. You haven’t seen the mountains.”
    “Please.” He set the hamper down to take both of her arms. “Do this for me.”
    Had he ever said “Please” before? she wondered. She didn’t think so. With a sigh, she looked out at the boat rocking gently against the pier. “All right. Maybe for an hour. I’ll go in and change.”
    The red sweater and jeans would keep her warm enough on the water, he decided. She would know that, too. She was stalling. “You look fine.” He kept her hand in his as they walked down the pier. “This could use a little maintenance.”
    “I know. I keep meaning to.” She waited until Roman stepped down into the boat. When he held up a hand, she hesitated, then forced herself to join him. “I have a key on my ring.”
    “Mae already gave me one.”
    “Oh.” Charity sat down in the stern. “I see. A conspiracy.”
    It took him only two pulls to start the engine. Mae had told him Charity kept the boat for the staff to use. “From what you said to me the other day, I don’t think he’d want you to grieve forever.”
    “No.” As her eyes filled, she looked back toward the inn. “No, he wouldn’t. But I loved him so much.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll cast off.”
    Before he sent the boat forward, Roman took her hand and drew her down beside him. After a moment she rested her head on his shoulder.
    “Have you done much boating?”
    “From time to time. When I was a kid we used to rent a boat a couple times each summer and take it on the river.”
    “Who’s we?” She watched the shutters come down over his face. “What river?” she asked instead.
    “The Mississippi.” He smiled and slipped an arm over her shoulders. “I come from St. Louis, remember?”
    “The Mississippi.” Her mind was immediately filled with visions of steamboats and boys on wooden rafts. “I’d love to see it. You know what would be great? Taking a cruise all the way down, from St. Louis to New Orleans. I’ll have to put that in my file.”
    “Your file?”
    “The file I’m going to make on things I want to do.” With a laugh, she waved to a passing sailboat before leaning over to kiss Roman’s cheek. “Thanks.”
    “For what?”
    “For talking me into this. I’ve always loved spending an afternoon out here, watching the other boats, looking at the houses. I’ve missed it.”
    “Have you ever considered that you give too much to the inn?”
    “No. You can’t give too much to something you love.” She turned. If she shielded her eyes with her hand she could just see it in the distance. “If I didn’t have such strong feelings for it, I would have sold it, taken a job in some modern hotel in Seattle or Miami or . . . or anywhere. Eight hours a day, sick leave, two weeks’ paid vacation.” Just the idea made her laugh. “I’d wear a nice neat