The Single Dad Next Door

by Jessica Keller

  Although, after how Kellen had acted today, she wished she’d done the same with the money Ida gave for inn items. Maybe Ida had. Perhaps Kellen would find paperwork in Ida’s house that detailed everything. If he hadn’t already tossed her files.

  Maggie stopped by the first booth in the second aisle. A banner suspended on poles behind it showed the Crest Orchards logo. The orchard lay on the edge of town, between Goose Harbor and Shadowbend, and held a reputation throughout the region for its quality produce. Last summer the booth had been manned by Mr. Crest, but today his only daughter smiled back at her.

  “Hey, Jenna.” Maggie wanted to skirt around the table and hug the girl. It had been a long time since she last saw her. Jenna Crest was almost ten years younger than Maggie. She had to be, because Maggie babysat her multiple times, many years ago. Jenna had blond curly hair that, unlike Maggie’s curls, actually behaved and stayed in place.

  Jenna reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “I’m so glad to see you. I’ve wanted to stop by your place, but you turned it into an inn since the last time I lived around here. I didn’t know what door to use or if I could just stop by.”

  “You’re always welcome.”

  “Careful. I just might take you up on that.” Jenna winked.

  “I hope you do.” Maggie eyed all the produce on the table and ran through a few options for recipes in her head. While Kellen was worried about spending, she’d choose to prepare the easiest meals that called for the fewest ingredients. “Give me a few bunches of your best asparagus and a bag of those cherries I spot on your back table.”

  Jenna spun around and added a second bag of cherries into a white plastic bag along with the other items. “On the house.”

  “Don’t tell your dad.”

  “Oh, for you, Daddy wouldn’t mind.” Jenna fished some change out of the large front pocket on the apron she wore. “Those are the first cherries of the season. So good. Winter here is pretty terrible, but I always remind myself those sweet cherries are worth all those dark, cold, snowed-in nights.”

  Of course, Jenna was talking about real seasons, but Maggie’s mind wandered to the winter in her soul. Would there be fruit worth the wait on the other side of her struggles? More likely, her winter would never end.

  “I’ll have to write that down and remind myself of that when I’m shoveling my long driveway next winter.”

  Jenna propped her hands on the table and lowered her voice. “Word around town is that there’s a young man who moved into Ida’s old place. Is that true?”

  Of course they knew about Kellen. A newcomer didn’t stay a secret within the close-knit community. Jenna hadn’t mentioned his name, though, so that was a good sign. She still had time before she had to be honest with everyone.

  Maggie linked the bag around her wrist. “He’s one of Ida’s nephews.”

  Jenna waggled her eyebrows. “Maybe if you sweet-talk him, he’ll be all neighborly and shovel the drive for you.”

  Kellen probably would—seeing as the inn belonged to him. But Jenna didn’t need to know that. For now, no one did.

  “Do you know much about him? What’s his name?” Jenna waved to her next customer and handed the man a bag of artichokes.

  “Kellen Ashby.”

  “Kellen. That’s a good name.” Jenna tapped her chin. “Is that Irish? It sounds Irish.”

  “I don’t know.” Maggie shrugged. “He could be.”

  “Huh.” Jenna leaned with her hip against the pole holding up the store sign. “His name sounds really familiar and I can’t place why.”

  “Maybe Ida mentioned him to you.”

  “Perhaps.” Jenna worked her bottom lip between her teeth as if she were taking a math quiz. “Oh well. It’ll come to me at the oddest moment.”

  “I better head out.” Maggie stepped away from the booth. “I have a couple more things to pick up and I still have to prepare the inn for some guests tomorrow.”

  Jenna held up a finger. “Shelby mentioned that she’s starting a small group that meets at the new church on Thursday nights. Are you planning to go to it? I don’t know everyone else as well as I know you, and I’d feel more comfortable if you’re going to be there.”

  Maggie bit her tongue. She hadn’t considered going. Not in the state that her heart was in right now. Currently she had some undealt-with anger at God, and going to a small group with that weighing on her sounded like the worst idea ever.

  But if Jenna needed her, she should be there. Maggie forced a cheery smile—the one that had become her constant mask the past few years. “I’ll see you on Thursday, then.”

  She’d do the right thing, but it wouldn’t do her or her wounded heart any good.

  Just as usual.

  * * *

  “Yes. Next Thursday at four it is. I’ll be here.” Kellen gave the home appraiser the address to both the cottage and the West Oaks Inn. Knowing how much each place was worth would help him prioritize improvement projects. Or get rid of them.

  He was still waiting for a call back from Sandra Conner, an interior designer he’d contacted. Whenever she could meet, it wouldn’t be soon enough. If he’d learned one thing while managing the five-star Casa Bonita, it was that a good design paid off every time.

  Before meeting with the designer, he’d spend some time researching successful inns and bed-and-breakfasts to figure out what direction he should go in for the West Oaks Inn. Although anything would be better than the grandmotherly mash-up of items that filled the place currently.

  Skylar slung open the back door. Right into Kellen’s heel. He yelped.

  Repeat, their little orange kitten, scurried to a hiding spot under the table at the noise.

  Man, that hurt.

  “Daddy? Are you okay? I’m sorry.” She grabbed his shoulder as he crouched down to rub his foot.

  “It’s all right, sweetheart.” He patted her hand as he stood. “It wasn’t your fault. This place is just too small.” And that was the crux of everything. He’d gone over his improvement notes for the West Oaks Inn more than twenty times as well as a list he’d made for the cottage. Almost everything needed updates—besides the appliances, which he’d replaced over the first weekend in town—but were they even worth doing? In a few years, the cottage would be way too small to house his girls and meet their needs. No, it already was.

  What he needed to do was get Mr. Rowe to reread the will and possibly find a loophole for the Maggie situation. Did the will actually state that he had to let her live in the inn? Or did he just have to provide a place for her? He should have either listened better or packed his copy of the will with the initial stuff he’d brought with him instead of leaving it in a moving truck crossing the country. Now it was somewhere in the unpacked boxes in his bedroom.

  Perhaps he could make Maggie swap the private side of the inn for the cottage. Where she lived was big enough for his family, and then some.

  That or he could sell the inn outright. How much money would that bring in? And would that dissolve his responsibility where Maggie was concerned? He didn’t want to kick her out onto the streets, but surely she had somewhere else to go. She was a grown woman who’d already proven she was completely capable of taking care of herself.

  Moving to Goose Harbor was supposed to simplify his life, not make it more stressful. Maybe—like most of the other choices he’d made in the past ten years—he’d acted hastily and made a huge mistake by moving here.

  Ruthy ambled in hanging on to Mrs. Rowe’s hand. “Are we still going to the dunes?”

  Kellen dropped back down to his knees and bear-hugged his youngest daughter. “Of course. I promised, right?”

  She stared down at the tips of her shoes. “Sometimes that doesn’t mean it’ll happen.”

  His heart squeezed. Had he really gone back on his
word that many times in her short life? No matter what stress filled his days in Goose Harbor, the set of his youngest child’s shoulders told him that leaving LA had been for the best. He never wanted to let his girls down again.

  Kellen lifted her chin. “I haven’t always followed through when I promised to do something with you before, have I?”

  Ruthy’s frown deepened.

  “From now on, you can trust me. Okay? If I say we’ll do something, we’re going to do it.” He looked up at Mrs. Rowe, who smiled down at them with grandmotherly affection. “Thanks again for watching her this past week. I’ll figure something else out, but since we just arrived and don’t know—”

  Mrs. Rowe waved her hand, dismissing his words. “Say no more. I love spending time with your girls. Ruthy and I did play pedicure today. I hope you don’t mind her having painted toes.”

  “Not at all.”

  “They’re red, Dad. Wanna see?” Ruthy started yanking off her shoes.

  “How about you go get changed for the dunes and you can show me there?” He pressed a kiss to her forehead before she and Skylar raced to their shared bedroom.

  Minutes later he tossed a blanket into the trunk of his Subaru and called for the girls to hurry up.

  Skylar bolted through the doorway first. “Hi, Maggie!” She waved wildly in the direction of the inn.

  Ruthy bumbled after Skylar, dragging a towel behind her. He’d told her she wouldn’t be swimming. It was only spring in Michigan; the water in the Great Lake wouldn’t be warm enough by now. The girls didn’t understand that Lake Michigan wasn’t the same as swimming in the ocean. She’d still try to convince him again once they got there.

  Kellen pivoted so he could see his neighbor. Maggie had been hunched over weeding in one of her many garden areas near the picket fence that ran the length of the property. She had different garden spaces along walking paths all over the grounds of the bed-and-breakfast.

  He hadn’t talked to her since their tense discussion about money the day before. Thinking back, he’d reacted stronger than he should have. Again. How he spoke to her... Treat others better than yourself. It hadn’t been right, no matter what the situation.

  Maggie walked to the gate. “Hey, Skylar. Good to see you.”

  Skylar skipped up to meet Maggie. “Do you want to come to the beach with us?”

  The innkeeper scrunched up her eyebrows. “It’s a little cold yet for the beach, isn’t it?”

  Kellen joined them near the fence and rested his hands on the top rung. Maggie had her head turned in a way where she was paying attention to only Skylar.

  Skylar slipped her hand into Kellen’s. “Dad says we’re not allowed to go in the water.”

  Still looking at only Skylar, Maggie pulled off her gardening gloves. “I have to agree with him this one time.”

  “Only this one time?” Kellen laughed and he finally drew her gaze.

  “Let’s just say, Mr. Ashby, I’m going to take a wild guess that you and I don’t have much in common.” Maggie nodded to acknowledge him.

  “Whoa. What’s with the formal greeting?”

  “You are my boss, aren’t you?”

  Technically he was. Or something along those lines. He hadn’t minded the term or formality when he was the manager of a crowd of staff at the restaurant, but with it being only one person it didn’t feel right. “‘Kellen’ is just fine. And as for not having much in common, I think you’re wrong.”

  “Oh.” Her eyebrows darted up. “Is that so?”

  “We both care about the future of the inn, we’re both stubborn and we both love the Lord.” He ticked off the ways on his fingers as he spoke. “How’s that for common ground?”

  Maggie tucked her gloves into her back pockets and dusted off her knees. “Well, have a great time at the dunes.”

  Skylar bounced beside him. “You should come with us.”

  Now it was Maggie’s turn to laugh, and her laughter was beautiful. Full. So many women tried to cover their mouth or temper their laughs, but not Maggie. She tossed her head back. “I don’t think that’s the best idea, honey. Your dad and I aren’t the best of friends and it’s a family thing. You guys go on and have fun.”

  Kellen cleared his throat. “You should join us.”

  “Really?” Maggie patted her curls. “It’s probably best if I—”

  Ruthy, who’d been twirling her towel around in circles a few feet away, let out a scream. Maggie’s eyes grew wide and then she turned to run back toward the inn.

  “Oh, Ruthy.” Kellen dropped Skylar’s hand to kneel beside Ruthy. He smoothed his hand over her mess of light red hair and she started crying harder. “Did you fall?”

  “Yessss.” Ruthy clutched her leg.

  The scrape wasn’t bad, but Ruthy had always been the more sensitive of his two girls. He’d wondered before if it was because she’d never known a mother’s love. She’d been less than a year old when Cynthia walked away from them.

  Kellen tried to be everything for the girls, but men and women thought and processed so differently. Would he be enough for them when they were teenagers with all sorts of life questions? No. But he’d have to be.

  Skylar plopped onto the ground on the other side of Ruthy, her chin in her hands. She looked on the verge of tears, as well. “Does this mean we can’t go to the beach? We never get to do anything fun.”

  From out of nowhere, Maggie dropped down beside Kellen and clicked open a little first aid kit. That was what she must have run to the inn for. Why hadn’t he thought of that?

  “Everyone’s going to be all right and you’ll still go to the beach. I promise.”

  Maggie pulled out an alcohol swab. “This will sting for a second, but you’re super brave, right?”

  Ruthy scooted onto Kellen’s lap as he mouthed Thank you to Maggie.

  Making quick work of the doctoring process, Maggie cleaned Ruthy’s knee, put some antibacterial cream on it and topped it with a Band-Aid. Much more attention than the scrape required, but Ruthy’s tears ebbed to a stop and Kellen was thankful for that.

  Kellen squeezed Ruthy in a tight hug while Maggie clipped her first aid kit shut. “I think we should say a quick prayer before we all head out.” He pulled Skylar close to his side and draped an arm around Maggie, bowing his head so that his forehead rested on top of Ruthy’s head. “Lord, thank You for today, for my family and for Your constant provisions. I’ve noticed lately how much You’re a part of every moment of our lives and I’m sorry I was blind to that for a long time. Please watch over us as we head to the dunes, and thank You for sending Maggie to save us from medical emergencies twice now. We ask these things in Your Son’s name. Amen.”

  He squeezed Skylar’s and Maggie’s shoulders in unison as he ended and then stood, picking up Ruthy. “Let’s head out.”

  Skylar whooped and ran toward the car. She was in and buckled before he could get to the other side of the car to secure Ruthy into her booster seat.

  Maggie trailed after him. “Well, you guys have fun.”

  He finished buckling Ruthy, closed the door and then stepped toward Maggie. “Aren’t you coming?”

  She laced her fingers together and cocked her head to the side. “You actually want me to come? You weren’t just saying that?”

  “Yes, to the ‘I want you to come with us’ part.” The answer surprised him just as much as her. “Are you kidding me? We need you in order to avoid tragedy at the dunes.” He winked.

  After everything, Kellen didn’t trust his ability to read people well, so he needed more time with Maggie if he was going to be able to pin down who she was and what she was after. Had she preyed on his elderly aunt? Or was she in the midst of unfortunate circumstances herself?

  She’d almost admitted something to him the other day. He’d have to convinc
e her to open up to him again.

  Chapter Six

  “I probably shouldn’t have come along.” Maggie cradled a basket of food on her lap as Kellen turned his car away from the residential part of town and down the winding country road that led to the nature preserves and beaches that lined Lake Michigan. “I have so much to do before more guests show up tomorrow.”

  “It’ll get done.” At a stop sign, Kellen fiddled with his MP3 player until some cartoon princess began to sing through the car’s speakers. From the backseat two little voices joined in.

  Maggie traced the twine that laced the pieces of the basket together. “I sure hope so.”

  Kellen pressed his lips together, almost as though he was trying not to laugh. “It’s okay not to work all the time.”

  “True. But when there are things to get done...” Maggie drummed her fingers on the top of the basket. What foolishness, joining the Ashbys. She had bedsheets to wash and iron and bathrooms to clean and floors to scrub back at the inn.

  Catching her by surprise, Kellen leaned over and rested his hand on top of hers, stopping her fidgeting. “Not that long ago, I was a workaholic. To the point where I missed out on everything. I was getting by, paying bills—but it wasn’t living. Does that make sense?”

  He still had his hand cupped over hers. Maggie’s pulse swirled like her KitchenAid on its highest mixing setting.

  When she didn’t speak, Kellen removed his hand, placing both of them on the wheel again. “God wants us to do our work as if we’re working for Him. Having a good work ethic is an admirable thing. But overworking—not letting yourself enjoy the world He’s created and placed us in—well, that’s not good, either. I have no clue what the correct balance is, but these days I believe in stopping to enjoy my blessings. At least...I’m learning to.”

  Skylar leaned forward in her seat. “Sing along, Daddy!”

  “Oh. I don’t know if we should subject Maggie to a spectacle like that.”

  “Pleaeeze.” Skylar clasped her hands together. “You sing the best.”