by Kait Nolan
“What happened to Denver?”
“He wanted to make me just a waitress. They’re short-staffed, apparently, but then I got behind the taps and worked some magic. He’s decided he doesn’t need to work every blessed night of the week. With me on board, he’s got more free time to woo Misty Pennebaker.”
Xander went brows up. “He tell you all that?”
“Oh no. The gossip portion of that was opining from Trish Morgan. I think I like her better now than I did in high school. Anyway, I have no idea who Misty Pennebaker is, but I hope she digs the strong, silent type, because Denver seems like a really good guy.”
Xander pointed across the street to the new-agey curiosity and florist shop. “Misty owns Moonbeams and Sweet Dreams over there. Relatively new to the Ridge. Been here maybe three years now, I think.”
As they watched, Misty herself emerged from the shop, a watering can in hand and what appeared to be a crown of daisies in her dark brown hair. Her long, flowing skirts swished as she bent to water the flowers rioting in profusion from the boxes out front. The flower child and the ex-biker. Now there was a romance he wouldn’t have called.
Apparently following the same line of thought, Kennedy muttered, “It’ll be interesting to be a fly on the wall for that one.”
“Yep.”
“Anyway, as of tomorrow night, I should be gainfully employed.”
“That should make Maggie happy.”
“Happy or not, she heads back to L.A. today. Since things are not awesome with the financial situation of Mom’s estate, she’s wigging. And her stress over it is stressing us out. It’ll be good to be down to just Pru and Ari for a little while.”
“You had lunch yet?” Xander asked.
“I have not.”
“Buy you some.”
“If it comes with your charming company, the answer’s yes.”
“Let’s walk on down to Crystal’s.”
Kennedy fell into step beside him. “Do they still have the grilled mac ‘n cheese sandwich?”
“Of course. It’s a diner staple.”
“It’s nice to know some things stay the same. I’ve been really surprised by all the new businesses in town. Main Street has a whole extra block than when I left, and it seems like a bunch of the businesses have changed over.”
Because he couldn’t think of a good reason not to, Xander took her hand. She glanced up at him, the corners of her mouth tipping up in a way that made him want to kiss her. Eyes twinkling, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking, she swung their joined hands in a wide arc, as they used to back in high school.
“We’ve had a little bit of growth. There are those trying to bring tourism to the Ridge. We get dribs and drabs of people. Lot of hikers. Folks doing antiquing. But the powers that be are wanting to do a big push for more since the Gatlinburg fires. It’s kinda mercenary, trying to capitalize on their misfortune, but it’s probably the best shot we’ve got. There’s even been some talk of building a resort.”
“A resort? In Eden’s Ridge?”
He shrugged. “Tourism and resorts are big business down in Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge. Mountain vacations and a little luxury for common folks.”
“Definitely not arguing that point. But wouldn’t a resort be too late to take advantage of the fires? I mean, they’d have to build it, so that puts the whole thing off into next year at the earliest.”
“Maybe. There have been a growing number of rental cabins being built, and quite a few people are taking advantage of AirBnB. It’s a small start, but it’s a start getting people here. If the town makes a good impression, people are liable to come back. Especially people who don’t like all the congestion and tourist trap feel of Gatlinburg.”
She hummed a considering noise. “I’ll have to research what’s here and make a post about it on my travel blog.”
“Your what now?”
“My travel blog. It’s monetized. That’s part of how I’ve funded my travel all these years. By chronicling all the places I’ve lived and visited and talking about how to travel affordably. It’s not huge, but it’s got a pretty decent following. And somebody might find the Ridge that way.”
And she just kept surprising him with her resourcefulness.
Xander tugged open the door to the diner. “Your sisters know about that?”
“It’s never come up. I started it more for me, to keep up with where I went. And it just kind of grew.” She made a beeline for their old booth by the window.
“What’s it called?”
“Not All Who Wander.”
“Because you weren’t lost.”
Kennedy inclined her head. She plucked a menu from the holder on the table and began to scan it.
In his pocket, Xander’s phone began to vibrate. He fished it out and checked the display. His father. No way in hell was he answering that right now. If it were an actual emergency, he’d be hearing from Essie as dispatch over the radio. More likely, somebody saw him and Kennedy together and told Buck. Sending the call to voicemail, Xander shoved it back into his pocket.
Nicky Blue, daughter of the diner’s namesake, swung by their table, order pad in hand. “What can I get you, Deputy?”
“I’ll take the meatloaf special.”
The girl scribbled it down. “And you?” She turned curious eyes on Kennedy.
“The grilled mac ’n cheese sandwich with a pile of curly fries. And a root beer.”
“Comin’ right up.” She started to turn away but Xander stopped her.
“Let’s add an Oreo milkshake to that, too. Two straws.” Very deliberately, he reached across the table to tangle his fingers with Kennedy’s.
Nicky’s brows disappeared beneath her teased bangs. “Yes, sir.”
Kennedy’s lips twitched as the waitress disappeared into the kitchen. “Felt like making an announcement, huh?”
“Seemed more expedient to get the word out.” He met her gaze. “Is that a problem for you?”
She shook her head and squeezed his hand. “No problem at all.”
“So. Blogger, huh?” He pulled his phone back out and opened a browser, running a quick Google search for Not All Who Wander.
A blush crawled up Kennedy’s cheeks. “Don’t go look it up.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. It feels weird to have anybody from home know about it. It’s weird having anybody important know about it.”
There was something in her tone that had him studying her face. She was looking down at their joined hands, chewing the inside of her lip in an old gesture that told him she was worried about something.
“Who else knows about it?”
She lifted her gaze to his before glancing around the diner to see that no one was close. When she spoke, her voice was low. “There’s this editor. She wants to talk to me about turning the whole thing into a book.”
“That’s awesome!”
Her shoulders lifted in a half-hearted shrug that wasn’t near as casual as she wanted it to be. “I don’t know. It all happened before Mom died. I haven’t given any kind of answer, but she emailed me about it again this morning.”
“Well, of course you should do it. Joan would’ve been tickled pink at the idea of you being an author.”
“I’m not an author.”
The site loaded on his phone, and he saw the note in the banner. “Pretty sure you wouldn’t be award-winning if you weren’t.”
Kennedy dropped her eyes again. “It was just some web award. Nobody outside the industry would’ve heard of it.”
Xander set the phone aside and took her other hand. “Hey, why are you minimizing everything you’ve accomplished? You did all this, on your own, and it’s amazing. Imagine what you could do with the backing of a publisher. You could make a career of this.”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realized what he was suggesting. Kennedy could have a career as a professional travel writer. Which meant she’d have to travel. She could hardly do
something like that from the Ridge. He’d only just gotten her back and here he was encouraging her to leave again—albeit indirectly. That was fucked up.
She shrugged again. “I can’t be a travel writer without traveling, and I’m needed here.”
Which wasn’t at all the same thing as I don’t want to be a travel writer.
But Xander shoved down the flutter of panic in his gut that she’d disappear on him. She was committed to being here. For Ari and Pru and, at least in part, for him. She needed someone to support her absolutely. She wasn’t getting that from her sisters. Even if she told them about the opportunity, he doubted they’d rave about it. They were the ones who’d made her feel like a screw up again since she came back, erasing the easy confidence she’d had when he first saw her at the cemetery. He wanted to give that back to her.
So he squeezed her hand and forced a smile. “Maybe don’t think about it in broad strokes of career. Talk to her about what you can do with what you’ve already written, the places you’ve already been. You owe it to yourself to explore the option.”
As Nicky came back with their lunch, Kennedy pulled her hand from his and leaned back to make room for the plate. “I’ll think about it.”
Chapter Ten
IF EDEN’S RIDGE WANTED to bring tourism in, they needed a better web presence. That was Kennedy’s estimation after she spent some time Googling to see what services and accommodations were available. The information that was out there was spotty and disconnected. The town itself needed something dedicated to tourism to connect prospective visitors with all the various options. But despite the less than stellar representation, there was the seed of tourism out there. Tourism in the Ridge.
She could just hear Athena scoffing at the idea, as she’d scoffed at the suggestion that anyone would think of Pru’s new workspace as a mini-spa. But the kind of people who’d be drawn to a place like Eden’s Ridge absolutely weren’t the demographic her sister was used to serving in her upscale Chicago restaurant. They weren’t celebrities, or rich women with purse dogs, or snobby businessmen, who probably took off to St. Moritz on a whim—Kennedy knew that type and had catered to them often in various capacities over the years. The kind of people who’d be drawn to Eden’s Ridge were, as Xander had said, everyday folks. The same demographic who were accustomed to vacationing in Gatlinburg.
The whole thing had Kennedy thinking.
People would be looking to alternatives to Gatlinburg, while it was being rebuilt. That meant the need, the prospective market, was ripe now—not next year or years down the line, once a full resort could be built. Some would take advantage of the rental cabins in the area, but others would be looking for something with a bit more service and pampering. The kind of experience they’d find at a cozy bed and breakfast.
And here they sat with this big, mostly empty house...
It was a lunatic idea. Kennedy knew that. But it hadn’t stopped her from nabbing a notepad and conducting her own evaluation of the possibilities. She walked through the freshly cleaned rooms, looking with new eyes, eyes that had seen countless B and Bs over the years, making note of which rooms could easily be converted for prospective guests. There weren’t en suite bathrooms for every room, and that would be an issue for some people. But she’d stayed in plenty of B and Bs in other parts of the world where sharing was the norm. And with more people in the US using services like AirBnB, there was a segment of travelers who were getting more accustomed to that sort of arrangement.
Fresh coats of paint everywhere, for sure. A house didn’t serve as hub for dozens of kids over the years without taking something of a beating. But it had good bones and a lot of Victorian charm. Fresh linens for all the beds. The current hodge podge of comforters, quilts, and bedspreads might be okay with a good washing. And she was pretty sure she’d seen a trunk of other quilts up in the hay loft. Most of the furniture was in good shape. A good cleaning with lemon oil would take care of most of it, and the few pieces that looked too rough could be painted shabby chic style. That would suit a quaint, Southern inn.
Kennedy made notes on her pad.
Inquire about local art for the walls. If they could work up an actual clientele, they could serve as another point of sale for the artists. Make them fall in love with the house, the area, and want to take a piece of their stay home.
With a lot of planning, a lot of prep, it could work. She knew it could. The idea gave her a buzz of challenge. She could do this and it would be a way to finally contribute, not only to her family, but to the community. She could make her mark.
“Whatcha doing?”
Kennedy turned to find Ari in the doorway. “Hey. How was school?”
The girl jerked her too thin shoulders. “Was okay, I guess. What are you doing up here?” she asked again.
“Dreaming big.”
A spark of interest lit those big, brown eyes. “Yeah? What about?”
Kennedy hesitated. Maggie had deliberately kept Ari out of the loop of the finance discussion. She hadn’t wanted to worry the girl unnecessarily, especially with Ari’s own fate up in the air. Kennedy understood that. But she also understood how frustrating and upsetting it was to be kept ignorant of details that could absolutely impact your life. Especially as it was likely she knew more than they were aware of. Mom had often said, “Little bunnies have big ears.”
Kennedy sat on the bed and patted the mattress beside her. “Come sit for a bit.”
Ari’s eyes shuttered, that careful blanking of expression Kennedy had, herself, perfected at an early age. Never show vulnerability. Especially when shit was about to hit the fan. But she sat curling her feet up beneath her. “Is something wrong?”
“Not exactly. Can you keep a secret?”
“Sure.”
“So you know we’ve been dealing with all the details of Mom’s estate. The four of us are equal owners of the house, the property, and all that.”
Ari’s eyes widened. “Do Athena and Maggie want to sell?”
“No! No, no. Nothing like that. But maintaining a property this size is expensive. Most of the costs used to be covered by a trust, but for a lot of complicated reasons, that’s not an option right now, so we have to find a way to pay for stuff like property taxes and upkeep. And that’s what I’m dreaming about. A way to make the house pay for itself.”
The girl frowned. “How?”
“I think we could turn it into an inn.” She felt a snap of excitement in her blood just saying it aloud.
“Like a hotel?”
“Much smaller than that. A bed and breakfast. We’ve got all this space that no one’s using, all these bedrooms. The house would need a bit of spiffing up, but we could rent out some of the rooms to tourists, provide them a meal or two. What do you think? How would you feel about having strangers in the house?”
Unlike a lot of her predecessors, Ari hadn’t had a constantly rotating parade of other fosters going through the house during her time here. Mom had been dialing back for the last couple of years, as she’d gotten older. But Kennedy liked people, liked the idea of the house still being used.
“I think,” Ari said slowly, “that Joan would’ve liked the idea.”
“Did you know she used to call this place The Misfit Inn? Where misfits of all ages and types could find a home.”
“She was good at that. At making us feel at home. If we could do something like that for other people, even on a temporary basis, it feels like maybe that would be a way to kind of keep her here with us.”
“Yes.” Kennedy hugged Ari. “Yes, that’s it exactly. But would you be okay with it?”
“Does it matter what I think? Joan’s gone, so this isn’t really my home anymore.”
Kennedy felt her heart crack in two. “This is your home. You are a Reynolds. That’s what Mom wanted. We just have to finish sorting out all the legal crap. And, yeah, it might get messy because this is an unusual situation, but all four of us will fight for you. You’re family.”
&nb
sp; Ari’s chin wobbled and her eyes went a bit glassy. “Okay then.” She rubbed an impatient hand over her face and looked around the room. “What kind of changes would it take?”
“I’m still working on all that. I don’t want to present it to my sisters until I have all the details worked out for how it could work, so let’s keep this between us for now. Our little secret.”
“I can do that.”
“Great.” Kennedy stood. “Want to go play in the hay loft to see what kind of treasures we could repurpose from up there?”
A slow smile spread across Ari’s face. “That sounds like fun.”
~*~
“You’re in a good mood,” Jarvis observed.
“Am I?” Xander asked, aware that he’d come back to work whistling.
“You’re smiling while doing paperwork.”
He’d had what felt like a permanent grin stuck on his face since lunch. It probably made him look like a total love-struck goofball, but what did he care? He was. “Guess I am. No reason not to be in a good mood. It’s a beautiful day, and the citizens of our fine county have been behaving themselves.”
“That the only reason?” Essie asked, her eyes bright with mischief and an unabashed hope.
“Might not be,” Xander conceded.
“Heard you were sharing a milkshake with Kennedy up at Crystal’s earlier. In your old booth.”
“So we were,” he said easily. He’d wanted the word spread quickly. Mission accomplished. And he couldn’t really resent Essie’s interest. He knew she’d been rooting for them to get back together.
“Y’all worked out your differences?” Jarvis asked carefully.
“We did.”
“She told you why she left?” Essie asked.
“She did. Not that it’s any of y’all’s business. More importantly, she’s home to stay.”
“Good for her,” Essie declared, obviously relieved. “I never agreed with Buck bullying her out of town.”
Xander felt the smile on his face turn brittle. “I’m sorry, what?”
Panic skittered over Essie’s face, the kind of panic Xander was used to seeing in suspects who’d accidentally said too much. “I, um...”