The big badger gestured to the guest book Mona was reading. “A single guest’s praise outdoes ten who complain. But I’d rather no praise than a staff member in pain.” His eyes crinkled with concern. “When I heard what had happened, I hurried back. I didn’t mean to be gone so long. How are you feeling, Miss Mouse?”
“I’m fine, Mr. Heartwood,” said Mona, though she was feeling very tired.
“I’m glad to hear it,” he replied. “Though I am not glad to hear there were owls at the hotel.”
“It was because of the Splash. Are…are we in trouble?” stammered Henry.
Mr. Heartwood was serious for a moment before he said, “We all make mistakes, but it’s pointless to blame. Still, safety was forgotten and that’s a great shame. I won’t be leaving the hotel again anytime soon. I wanted to go to the grand opening, but I have decided not to.”
Even though they weren’t in trouble, Mona felt bad that they had let Mr. Heartwood down. And now he had to change his plans because of what had happened. She hoped there would be another chance later to prove they could look after the hotel and wanted to say so, when Henry piped:
“Grand opening of what?”
Mr. Heartwood held out the new wavy key. “My dear friend I was visiting is starting a new hotel, Beaver Lodge, for water animals.”
Could it be? The “splashy” hotel was a hotel for water animals!
“That’s the hotel we were so worried about?” cried Tilly, who clearly hadn’t heard this news either.
“Indeed,” said Mr. Heartwood. “Benjamin wanted my help organizing it, and I thought it would be a good chance to relax. Work for one is another’s fun. And there is nothing like helping a friend. I would have told you all, but Benjamin wished that I keep it secret, in case it didn’t work out. But oh, how it has! The Beaver Lodge truly will change the flow of Fernwood, for it requires a new dam at the top of the stream.”
“That’s not competition,” cried Tilly. “Not at all!”
“But even if it was another forest hotel, it wouldn’t be competition,” said Mona, glancing over at Henry. “Right, Mr. Heartwood?”
Mr. Heartwood nodded. “As long as we stick to what we do best, a humble hotel meant for rest, then we are sure to have plenty of guests….”
It was a three-part rhyme.
Mr. Heartwood was back and in fine form!
As he began to describe the hotel, from its otter manager to its muskrat maids, Mona couldn’t help but feel her eyes grow heavier and heavier. Before she knew it, she drifted off, dreaming of the new hotel with its bulrush blankets and lily-pad pillows and watery beds that rocked you in the waves. But instead of muskrat or minnow maids, there were mice, with whiskers that tickled her gently as they sang her to sleep.
Mona stayed in the penthouse for the whole week. Mr. Heartwood insisted. She felt as pampered as a guest! Everyone was really nice to her. Except sometimes Tilly, who humphed, “Really, how long does it take for a paw to heal? It’s impossible to get everything cleaned without you. I don’t know what I did before you were here.” Still, Tilly found time to sew a new heart on Mona’s apron.
Henry was always there, running errands for Mona, whether she wanted him to or not. Mostly she did.
Then one day he announced proudly: “Mr. Heartwood’s given me a job! I’m the Heartwood bellhop. At first I told him hopping’s for rabbits and frogs. But he said a bellhop can be anyone. Anyone who’s good at running errands. And I’ve been running so many!”
“You’ll do a great job,” said Mona. Even if it meant he’d be asking her lots of questions, she didn’t mind.
“Thanks!” said Henry, hopping almost as high as a rabbit, he was so excited.
Soon Mona was hopping, too, around the room on a twig crutch. The only place she didn’t go was out onto the penthouse balcony. Although she didn’t admit it to anyone, she was scared. The penthouse balcony was smaller than the stargazing one but otherwise very similar. Every time Mona looked out at it, she thought of the owl—and his big blazing eye.
Even so, from the balcony window, she could see the courtyard. Gone were the eggs, the flowers, the stage. Instead, it was a plain mossy area once more, framed with blackberries and dotted with mushroom-cap seats, just the way Mona liked it. Until she didn’t need crutches, however, it would be tricky for Mona to go down all the Heartwood stairs. So that’s why Mr. Heartwood decided to have the Heartwood Hop in the penthouse instead of in the ballroom. They couldn’t end spring, he declared, without a proper Heartwood fling. A humble one, this time.
Humble—and perfect.
There was music in the living room. No bands, just a single frog and one raccoon, playing tunes together. Gilles seemed slightly subdued both in color and in mood as he gave out medals to Captain Ruby and Florian for their bravery, but no other prizes. It was his last task as manager. Afterward, Mona saw him take off his badge and put it in his pocket. Mona felt a little bad for him, but then she saw Mrs. Higgins put her paw on his shoulder. “A good manager doesn’t need a show, only quiet skill, which you have,” said Mrs. Higgins. It was the nicest way of saying “I told you so” that Mona had ever heard.
The dining room was filled with Ms. Prickles’s food, of which Mr. Quillson ate the most (but Tilly and Henry, close seconds).
There were only a few guests invited. Skim would have been one of them, but he was already on his way to the water hotel. It turned out his birthday booking was for the grand opening. He would have been early, but now, as long as he didn’t get confused again, he’d be right on time.
The Robinsons were there, though, with their baby bird, who had hatched at last. Underneath the stage, in fact. That had been why Mrs. Robinson had shrieked so loudly in the dark: her baby had been born. The little chick was mostly pink and gray, but her eyes were already open.
“What’s her name?” asked Mona, balanced on her crutch in the dining room, munching a seedcake.
“Ruby,” said Mrs. Robinson proudly.
“Florian—if it was a boy,” added Mr. Robinson. “We were thinking of naming her Mona, but our little chick shall grow to be red-chested, of course….”
“Of course,” said Mona. “Ruby is a really nice—”
A loud CRASH interrupted Mona.
“Oops!” cried Mrs. Robinson.
“Not again!” sighed Mr. Robinson. Baby Ruby had somehow pulled a platter off the table and seedcakes rained down on her little fluffy head, nearly burying her. Instead of making a peep, she began to peck at the seeds.
“No, Ruby, don’t eat those,” said Mrs. Robinson.
Mr. Robinson added, “You’re not on solid food yet, just regurgitated worms.”
Baby Ruby was a wingful. And as fearless as Captain Ruby.
Come to think of it, where was Captain Ruby? Mona glanced over at the doorway to the balcony. Probably outside again. The bees had decided to stay at the Heartwood after all. Not just stay: Captain Ruby, along with Florian and Tony, had been patrolling the forest around the Heartwood all week, and so far there had been no sign of any owls.
Still…
Mona shivered.
Then she noticed Henry. He was standing by the doorway, staring outside. His tail was all puffed up. Mona hopped closer, trying to see what he was looking at.
But there was no one on the balcony. Only the dark sky, the stars, and the oak leaves.
“Henry’s scared to go outside,” explained Tilly, coming up behind Mona. “After what happened…”
“Me too,” said Mona. “But maybe if there’s three of us, it won’t be so scary.”
Henry nodded.
And so, holding paws, the three of them stepped out.
The night was still and quiet, the party a happy hum behind them. Below, the forest was a sea of waving treetops, bathed in the moon’s honey glow. Above, the stars glittered like faraway fireflies, while much closer, real fireflies glittered as they flew with the bees around and around the hotel.
The air was sweet and warm. Mona’
s heart felt full. Yet she knew now there was plenty of room for whatever—or whomever—summer might bring.
“It’s not scary,” said Henry. “It’s…”
“Hearthopping,” said Mona.
It wasn’t a real word, but it bounced from her in the moment, and it felt just right.
“Hearthopping?” Tilly’s eyebrows rose.
“Sometimes no words will do,” Mona explained, “except for ones you make anew.”
Tilly rolled her eyes. “Oh, Mona, you sound just like Mr. Heartwood.”
Mona couldn’t feel prouder.
THE PINECONE PRESS: NEWS! NEWS! NEWS!
Beaver Lodge Opens with a Splash
Yesterday, Beaver Lodge, a new hotel, opened in the pond at the edge of Fernwood Forest. The event was exciting for all those who splashed by. Catering specifically to aquatic folk, the hotel features a well-marked special underwater entrance, as well as mudrooms for frogs, an exercise room for energetic otters, and rooms on the roof for water striders. There are even day-lounge alcoves for fish who are looking to take a protected noon snooze.
Mr. Benjamin Banks, the hotel’s owner, was inspired by his good friend Mr. Heartwood, owner of the five-acorn Heartwood Hotel, which was featured in our fall issue. “Like the Heartwood,” said Mr. Benjamin, “we are adopting the motto We live by ‘Protect and Respect,’ not by ‘Tooth and Claw,’ and so we plan on serving only vegetation in our restaurant.”
Waterweed stew, lily-pad pâté, and bark biscuits are featured items on the menu. The hotel promises impeccable service, with muskrat maids for above water and minnow maids for below. They even offer a shallow beach area for land creatures to visit with their gilled friends. A welcome addition to our forest, this hotel is sure to be a draw for creatures traveling by stream and looking for a place to stay. An official review, along with the acorn rating, will come once the hotel is up and flowing.
IN OTHER NEWS: Petunia Prickles will be joining paws with Quentin Quillson, Midsummer Day, at the Heartwood Hotel. By invitation only.
So many wonderful people—family, friends, and colleagues—have made room for me and my stories in their lives. Thank you to my dad, my mom, my brother, and Marie, and my grandparents, who watch over me; as well as my friends, including the Inkslingers (Tanya Lloyd Kyi, Rachelle Delaney, Christy Goezern, Shannon Ozirny, Lori Sherritt-Fleming, and Maryn Quarless), Lee Edward Fodi, Sara Gillingham, and Vikki Vansickle. Thank you to my amazing editors, Rotem Moscovich and Suzanne Sutherland, and to the fantastic teams at Disney Hyperion and HarperCollins Canada, and to the brilliant artist Stephanie Graegin. Thank you to my wonderful agent, Emily van Beek; my dear husband, Luke Spence Byrd; and the incredible Tiffany Stone, who practically lives at the Heartwood Hotel with me when I’m writing about it.
Heartwood Hotel, Book 1: A True Home
Heartwood Hotel, Book 2: The Greatest Gift
The Magical Animal Adoption Agency, Book 1: Clover’s Luck
The Magical Animal Adoption Agency, Book 2: The Enchanted Egg
The Magical Animal Adoption Agency, Book 3: The Missing Magic
Don’t miss the next book in the series!
Heartwood Hotel, Book 4: Home Again
KALLIE GEORGE is the author of the Magical Animal Adoption Agency series, as well as the Heartwood Hotel series. She works as an author and speaker in Vancouver, Canada, and she holds a master’s in children’s literature from the University of British Columbia. In addition to writing books for young readers, she leads workshops for aspiring writers. She happened across the Heartwood Hotel on a hike with her husband and wishes she were a mouse like Mona so she could stay there, too. Visit Kallie online at kalliegeorge.com.
Born during a blizzard on Groundhog Day in Chicago, Illinois, STEPHANIE GRAEGIN spent her childhood drawing and collecting fauna in Fort Wayne, Indiana, and Houston, Texas. She received her BFA in fine arts from the Maryland Institute College of Art in Baltimore, Maryland. She later attended Pratt Institute in Brooklyn, New York, obtaining an MFA in printmaking. Stephanie now lives in Brooklyn, is still drawing, and has managed to keep her collection down to one orange cat. Find out more at graegin.com.
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