Falling for the Innkeeper

by Meghann Whistler

  He nodded, studying her.

  “I would have been here sooner,” she said, “but I was in Boston when she called.”

  Confusion flickered across his face. “You were in Boston? Why?”

  She rested her forehead against his temple. “I went to your office. To find you.”

  She felt his breathing speed up, felt the rise and fall of his chest get faster. “You went to Boston to find me,” he repeated.

  She nodded. She pressed her nose into his cheek.

  “Why?” he said again.

  She took a deep breath and straightened up so she could look him in the eye. “Because when you left this morning, you told me you were falling in love with me, and I didn’t say it back.”

  His hands, where they were holding her, gave a little tremor. “And did you want to say it back?” His eyes were dark and urgent and searching, and she could tell she had the power to break him with a word.

  “Yes,” she breathed, laying her palm on his cheek. He closed his eyes and pressed his face into her hand. “I love you, Jonathan. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you got the phone call, but I’m here now.”

  “You’re here now,” he murmured, a note of wonder creeping in, “and you love me.”

  “Yeah, Harvard,” she said, smiling. “I love you.”

  “Laura Lessoway.” He held her tighter. “I love you, too.” He kissed her, and it was both sad and happy, salty from the tears they’d cried and sweet.

  A little while later, she looked at the man on the bed—his father. “Did you make it here on time?”

  “I made it,” he said. “We talked.”

  “Was it—I mean, did he... Did he know it was you?” She wanted, so badly, for Jonathan to have received some peace.

  He nodded. “He knew.”

  “I’m so glad.”

  He picked up her hand. He kissed it. “I wouldn’t have found him, if it wasn’t for you. I would have waited, and it would have been too late.”

  She pressed her face into his neck again, her arms wrapping around him. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry for your loss.”

  She held him for a few minutes, then disentangled herself and said, “So, your office. They said you’re taking a sabbatical?”

  He snorted. “I tried to quit. My boss didn’t want me to. He told me to take the six weeks of vacation I have saved up and think about it. I said okay.”

  “Why’d you try to quit?”

  He pressed his forehead to hers, his voice going rough and quiet. “Because I’m tired, Laura. I’m tired of giving everything to a job that doesn’t give me anything back.” He took a deep breath, put a hand on the side of her face. “I want to have a life. I want to have a life here, with you.”

  She closed her eyes against the mix of emotions that were tangled up in his gaze—tenderness, hope, fear, love. She felt something large and buoyant bubble up inside her. “You want to stay here, with me?”

  “Yeah, I want to be with you and Emma. Really be with you. The way you want, and the way you deserve. I know you’ve been let down in the past, sweetheart, but love isn’t an empty word to me. I’ll be staying with Brett for the next six weeks. Let me show you what real love looks like, and if you still want me after that, I’ll put in my notice and stay.”

  “Are you sure? Your partnership—”

  He shook his head. “Was costing me too much. I thought my job could fulfill me, but it left me empty. You’re what I need, Laura. You. And I know this happened fast and it might sound crazy, but I swear, I feel like I’ve been waiting for you my entire life.”

  She was crying again now, happy tears dripping down her face. What they wanted was the same. They wanted the same things, after all.

  He leaned his forehead against hers again. He wiped the tears from her face. “Say something, sweetheart. Tell me you want me to stay.”

  She smiled and squeezed him tighter. Her heart felt like it would burst, it was so full. “I’d go anywhere for you, Harvard. Of course I want you to stay.”

  Epilogue

  The Sea Glass Inn’s summer season officially ended the second weekend in September. Laura and Emma had stayed until the very end, helping the chambermaids wash and fold bed linens, applying weather stripping to the windows in the guest rooms and packing up Gram’s personal effects.

  The summer had been a good one, businesswise—hot and not too rainy. The inn was full almost every weekend and usually close to capacity during the week. Laura had found that she liked running the inn on her own. She enjoyed getting up early and organizing the big continental breakfast. She liked hosting afternoon tea and watching the sun set over the dunes. She even liked the bookkeeping and the property maintenance, which—along with her burgeoning web design business—kept her busy during the long summer afternoons.

  When Pastor Nate had approached her at the end of August and asked if she wanted to stay on as property manager once the church took possession of the inn, she’d gasped and grabbed Jonathan’s hand. “You’re not selling?”

  The two men had exchanged a look. “We’re going to keep it,” Nate said. “Your grandmother and I talked about it before she died, and that’s what we agreed. Plus, it’s profitable, so it’ll fund our outreach ministries. If you’re amenable to working for room and board and a small stipend in the summer, there’s really no downside for us.”

  “I thought for sure you’d sell it,” she said.

  Nate grinned. “Do you want the job?”

  Laura shook her head, chuckling at the memory. Her grandmother would be happy with the outcome, she thought. They’d host church events at the inn, weddings and dances and retreats. Her mother didn’t want to hear about it at all, but then again, when had she ever really wanted to hear much about Laura’s life anyway? She was back in Hong Kong, and their relationship was in much the same place it had always been, though Laura felt better about it—she’d achieved some new level of acceptance, she supposed. She thought her grandmother would have been pleased about that, too.

  After spending a few days in Upstate New York with his mother and sister, Jonathan had stayed at Brett’s for the remainder of his six-week sabbatical, and then gone back to Boston for three months to finish up his work at the firm. Mike Roe, who had his hands full with the Carberry Hotels account, had taken full advantage of Jonathan’s three-month notice period, working his protégé to the bone all summer. Even so, Jonathan had managed to drive down to Cape Cod to see her and Emma every weekend, and every once in a while, when Chloe and Brett were available to watch the inn, Laura and Emma had driven up to Boston midweek for a Red Sox game.

  He’d moved back in with Brett after Labor Day, after his work at the law firm was done. Mike had used his connections to get Jonathan an interview with—and a subsequent job offer from—the Massachusetts Department of Children and Families, where he now served as a staff attorney in Barnstable County’s Juvenile and Probate Court. Although the job paid way less than he’d been making before, it was significantly less time-consuming, and significantly more meaningful. Ethan Malone and Talia Morgan—from their new dorms at UMass—had sent him a singing telegram his first day on the job.

  After his first week on Cape Cod full-time, he’d bought Emma a puppy, and he dropped by the inn every morning before work to help her daughter take the playful little Lab for a walk. He also came by for dinner most nights, after which he and Emma would walk the dog again, and sometimes fly a kite.

  Laura couldn’t remember ever feeling so happy. It was as though Jonathan’s love had lit a lamp inside her, and now nothing could switch it off.

  * * *

  The first weekend in October was glorious, crisp, bright and sunny. Jonathan had biked over to the inn after lunch and lured Laura down to the beach with a rakish smile. “It’s almost high tide,” he said. “Know what that means?”

  She arched an eyebrow,
remembering their first time out on the jetty and the way the waves had soaked his suit pants, leaving giant salt stains. “That you need to go home and change into a suit?”

  He laughed. “That would take too long. We’d miss it.”

  Hand in hand, they strolled down Sand Street Beach’s rickety wooden boardwalk, steeping themselves in the sun. A handful of local kids ran by, jubilant as they chased a colorful kite. Seagulls squalled overhead and waves lapped the shore in a sibilant whisper, but Laura was struck most by the stillness of the afternoon. It was as though they were wrapped in a giant cloak of seclusion. The two of them against the world.

  The waves weren’t big, but the dark rocks of the jetty were still slick and sandy, the occasional shattered crab shell or splotch of bird poop dotting the path.

  Halfway to the end, Laura turned around and smiled at Jonathan, her hair unruly although there was hardly any wind to whip it out of shape. “You’re getting better at this,” she teased.

  He grinned. “Practice makes perfect.” They’d made a habit of walking to the lighthouse and back every Sunday afternoon all summer—most of the time with Emma, although her daughter had stayed home with Chloe and Brett today.

  At the end of the jetty they sat with their backs against the small lighthouse, looking out to sea. Laura nestled her head on Jonathan’s shoulder, and he smoothed his hand over her hair. She could have stayed out there with her head on his shoulder forever, breathing with the rise of his chest, witnessed by the light and the waves and the gulls.

  After a time, Jonathan shifted, reaching for something in his pocket.

  Laura felt her stomach lurch, though her heart was soft and expectant.

  And then it was happening: the velvet box in his hand, him kneeling in front of her, the expression on his face hopeful, and vulnerable, and a little bit scared.

  “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, Laura, and you make me so incredibly happy. Will you marry me?”

  “Oh, Jonathan,” she whispered, vaguely aware that he’d popped the lid of the ring box open, but too consumed with happiness to look. “Yes!”

  A sound of joy and relief escaped him, and then he had her in his arms, hugging her, squeezing her, lifting her off the ground.

  “Careful!” She laughed and clutched him tightly—they were awfully close to the edge.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’d never let you go.”

  He set her back on her feet and took her left hand. It was shaking. He slipped an antique emerald engagement ring with distinctive three-leaf shoulders onto her finger. “Gram’s ring!” she cried, her voice full of wonder. “Where did you get this?”

  “Your grandmother left it with Nate for safekeeping. He was supposed to give it to you when you took over the inn, but I convinced him to let me give it to you instead.”

  Laura stared at her hand in disbelief. The emerald wasn’t big—it was less than a carat—but it was clear and vibrant. The small diamonds in the leaves on the sides shone dazzlingly in the sun, and the millegrain edgework on the band was delicate and fine.

  “We can get you something more modern if you’d like.”

  “Not on your life! It’s beautiful,” she said fiercely. “Exactly what I wanted.”

  “You’re beautiful.”

  She swatted him playfully on the chest. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

  “That’s what I’m hoping,” he said, “because I’ve got one more surprise for you.” He took an envelope out of his back pocket. “Up for some ice cream?”

  She opened the envelope and laughed. “Pretty sure of yourself there, Harvard.” It was an invitation to their engagement party. At The Sundae School. Tonight.

  He smiled and gave her a playful tap on the nose. “Optimistic, I’d say. Hopeful. And desperately, madly in love with you.”

  She grinned at him and went up on her tiptoes, sliding her arms around his neck. “You don’t say?”

  In response, he circled her waist with his hands and kissed her. Then he released her waist but tugged at her hand. “Well, come on, Mrs. Soon-to-Be-Masters. Party starts at six, and Tiny needs her ice cream. We haven’t got all day.”

  She laughed. She let him lead her off the jetty. He was her fiancé now, her family. She would follow him anywhere he wanted to go.

  * * *

  If you enjoyed this book,

  be sure to check out these other titles:

  Child on His Doorstep

  by Lee Tobin McClain

  Raising Honor

  by Jill Lynn

  Ready to Trust

  by Tina Radcliffe

  The Orphans’ Blessing

  by Lorraine Beatty

  Available now from Love Inspired!

  Find more great reads at www.LoveInspired.com.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Her Amish Chaperone by Leigh Bale.

  Dear Reader,

  I hope you enjoyed your trip to The Sea Glass Inn in the fictional town of Wychmere Bay, Cape Cod! I grew up spending my summers at a cozy Cape Cod inn a lot like this one—one that my mother and her sisters still own to this day!

  More than the setting, though, I hope you enjoyed Laura and Jonathan’s journey. These characters and their struggles are dear to my heart, and I am beyond humbled that God chose me to tell their story.

  So often, we pick up false beliefs in childhood that we unconsciously carry with us into adulthood. For Laura, the idea that she isn’t good enough for lasting love makes her doubt her own instincts. For Jonathan, who’s been scarred by his father’s battle with mental illness, the idea that he can “earn” the life he wants by achieving great things in his career means that he’s never even entertained the possibility of falling in love.

  I’m thrilled that Laura and Jonathan were able to find happiness with each other. I pray that you, too, will seek help for anything that’s holding you back from becoming the person God wants you to be.

  Wishing you love and light,

  Meghann

  WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK FROM

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  Her Amish Chaperone

  by Leigh Bale

  Chapter One

  Caroline Schwartz didn’t dare take her eyes off her feet. If she did, she knew she’d fall flat on her face. At the age of nineteen, she should be able to run past this crosswalk on Main Street without even thinking about it. But after the buggy accident that nearly took her life, it was amazing she could walk at all.

  Thankfully, there wasn’t much traffic in the sleepy farming town of Riverton, Colorado. Caroline’s progress was slow. She gripped the handles of her elbow crutches and inched forward, taking several shuffling steps. The plastic sack of pencils and notepads she’d just purchased from the general store swung easily from her fingers. Pressing her tongue against the roof of her mouth, she concentrated on every step and vowed she would one day do this again without the aid of crutches.

  Ignoring her aching muscles and joints, she lifted her feet higher. The black asphalt emanated heat she could feel even through her plain Amish shoes. But she didn’t mind. At least it wasn’t snowing. She welcomed the dry August sunshine that beat down on her white organdy prayer kapp.

  The accident last January had crushed her pelvis and broken both her legs. And what had followed had been a long, depressing winter. She’d spent several months in the hospital with her legs and hips in traction, followed by weeks of excruciating physical therapy. The doctors hadn’t given her much hope of walking again, but she’d proved them wrong. Ignoring the screaming pain, she’d diligently pushed herself to stand and move her legs. Finally, she’d grad
uated to elbow crutches. And walking across the street today on her own power was a tremendous victory. It meant she could resume her teaching assignment at the Amish school next month and wouldn’t be a burden on her familye any longer.

  It meant freedom and independence.

  The narrow sidewalk extended past the general store but ended just a few feet beyond the post office. If she could make it there, her aunt Hannah would help her to the buggy. Caroline had insisted on walking to the store alone today, but she was tired now and desperately needed to sit down.

  The sudden blaring of a horn startled her and she jerked her head up. Two glass headlights and the shiny silver grill of a brand-new black pickup truck stood no more than twenty inches away. She lifted her gaze higher and saw Rand Henbury glaring at her from behind the tinted windshield. Rand was the eighteen-year-old son of the richest Englisch rancher in the area. Two of his Englisch friends sat in the truck beside him.

  Vroom! Vroom!

  Rand revved the engine impatiently and honked the horn again. In her haste to get out of the way, Caroline lost her balance and tumbled to the ground in a giant heap. Her crutches clattered around her and she cried out as small rocks dug into her knees and the palms of her hands. As she struggled to push herself up, she heard Rand and his friends’ raucous laughter.

  A feeling of absolute fear coursed through Caroline’s veins. The night of the buggy accident rushed over her in dizzying horror. With perfect clarity, she recalled every sickening sound of smashing wood and the screeching of her broken horse. When help finally arrived, the poor animal had to be put down. And when she’d awoken in the hospital, Caroline had been beyond grateful they didn’t shoot people, because her body was just as shattered.

  Not twenty minutes before the car struck her buggy, she’d seen the driver yelling and throwing things in the general store. Such a temper was alien to Caroline and her Amish people. They were pacifists, adhering to Jesus Christ’s teachings to turn the other cheek no matter what. She’d hurried to her buggy and was on her way home when the man had come upon her in his car. Because he’d been in a drunken rage, he’d been driving too fast and couldn’t stop his vehicle in time. But Caroline had learned firsthand why anger and violence were to be shunned. And even though it had happened eight months earlier, it felt like it was happening all over again. Right now.