“I take it you’ve been sidelined for quite a while now? Well, I’ll respect your artistic side and refrain from asking what your next project is, other than the lighthouse. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious.”
He grinned. “You and about a dozen others. My agent’s been bugging me for an update. I’ve known her ten years. If I won’t tell her—”
About that time Nick came through the swinging door. “The Isaksons and the Fostwicks are already settled around the table. So are the Whitney sisters. Ben and Sheryl are still MIA.” Nick wiggled his eyebrows up and down. “Second honeymoon here for an old married couple.”
Jordan giggled. “We get a lot of that here,” she told Logan. “Ben and Sheryl Latham are down from San Jose. Ben served in Iraq with Nick. They have the room on the other side of yours through Saturday.”
Terrific, thought Logan. He grabbed another canapé, popped it into his mouth. He decided it was time to make his exit. “Guess that’s my cue to get out of your way. That stir fry smells tasty and since I’m starving—I better go get a seat.”
Logan made his way into the formal dining room, grabbing a chair on one side of the eight-foot-long table covered with an old-fashioned, crocheted tablecloth. The atmosphere immediately put him in mind of all the times he’d sat around his grandmother’s table as a kid. The polished antique wood peeking out of the patterned cloth, even the Trilby place settings with the cheerful daisies and silver trim that Noritake hadn’t made since 1984 made him feel like he’d taken a step back in time.
He got comfortable next to two older ladies who looked to be in their seventies. The one with silver hair announced, “I’m Kay Whitney and the lady with the punk-pink hair is my sister, Olivia.”
“Nice to meet you both,” Logan uttered.
An older man in his early sixties turned to extend a hand. “We’re Elsa and Henry Isakson over from Sacramento. Took us a vacation to the coast, you know like the young folks do,” Henry explained.
“Our spring break,” Elsa finished. “Left our store in the capable hands of our son.” They went into a detailed account of their jewelry business, while across from Logan, on the other side of the table, a twenty-something man kissed his wife’s hand in a purely romantic gesture before exchanging introductions. “We’re Cory and Karen Fostwick.”
“We’re on our honeymoon down from Medford, Oregon,” the young bride offered. “If you’re the artist, I think we have the room next door to you.”
Perfect, thought Logan, just what he needed, a couple of newlyweds along with second honeymooners competing in a humping marathon with him sandwiched in the middle. For about two seconds he considered the all-night-long sound effects he had to look forward to and then mentally checked the contents of what he’d already unpacked. Where had he put those noise-cancelling headphones?
When another couple strolled into the room, arm in arm, Logan felt sure he’d been swept up in a 1980s scene right out of a Love Boat rerun.
“You must be the sculptor. They were expecting you yesterday. We’re Ben and Sheryl Latham.”
About that time, Jordan came in carrying a tray with steaming beef and chicken heaped onto serving dishes. She glanced around the room at her guests. “Even with a full house, we’re sometimes crowded but it makes for a cozy setting.”
Nick walked in behind her. “Everyone gets to know everybody pretty quick. We thought about setting up several separate tables but most of the guests seemed to really like the atmosphere of sitting around the same table together.”
Ben nodded. “Makes it seem more like a home.”
Just as Logan was about to dig in to his beef and broccoli, Kinsey sauntered to the table wearing a pair of yoga pants with an off-the-shoulder sexy-as-hell lime green top that showed plenty of appealing skin. Even the newly married Cory took a second look.
“Sorry, I’m late,” Kinsey offered.
Logan forced himself to focus on his plate and answered the spattering of curious questions about his lighthouse project, mainly from Ben and Sheryl.
Karen Fostwick and Elsa also seemed interested in how he intended to turn the place into a studio until Nick wanted to know, “When will you get started exactly? What with the hand and all?”
“Hired my first man this afternoon. A young guy by the name of Troy Dayton. His references checked out. Ethan tells me he’s a first-rate carpenter despite his young age.”
“Troy’s a good kid,” Kinsey chimed in. “He’s had a rough time of it lately finding work and all. I’m glad you saw his potential and hired him.”
“Jobs are tough to come by around here. It’s a drought when it comes to finding ways to make money. You have to get creative when it comes to employment,” Jordan explained.
“Which usually translates into people sometimes having to work two and three jobs,” Nick finished.
When the talk died down as people dug into their food, Kinsey took a sip of her iced tea and eyed the newest guest. “Why buy a forgotten lighthouse, Mr. Donnelly, especially one that has no historical designation?” She could tell the question irritated him, which was a bonus for her.
Logan refused to take the bait. He decided to downplay the whole thing. He shrugged and said, “I like restoring old things.”
They eyed each other for a few long minutes until Kinsey considered the venue. This was not the time or place to get into a disagreement. So she let the line of questioning drop, even though she was far from satisfied with his casual answer.
After that the chatter turned to the scenic places to visit in the area, including the cove below the cliffs, and some place called Treasure Island that was a must-see before heading back home.
When the talk switched to babies and kids, Logan decided to head back to his room. “I’m making an early night of it. I’m really beat,” Logan lamented.
“What, no cherry pie? Does that mean I get his share?” Kinsey asked in a teasing tone. “You don’t know what you’re missing. Jordan makes pie crust that literally melts in your mouth. I’m pretty sure I’ve gained five pounds since I first checked in,” Kinsey moaned.
Without thinking, Logan uttered, “You certainly wear it well.”
Nick recognized the male interest. “You sure you want to pass up homemade cherry cobbler, Logan? It’s prepared with the cherries from our own orchard next door served with homemade vanilla ice cream churned with our fresh cream.”
“Organic fresh fruit, organic cream―from their very own farm,” Kinsey added as a further selling point. Seeing him think it over, she leaned back in her chair. “Hard to believe our innkeepers here grow their own produce, along with acres and acres of cherry and apple orchards and raise dairy cows.” She turned to Nick. “I don’t know how you guys do it but this place doesn’t just feel like home, it’s idyllic. With all you do, you two make it a home and so much more.”
“Thank you,” Jordan said with a grin. “At first it was a lot to handle. But after getting Cord Bennett on board and getting help from all our other friends like Hayden, we’ve managed to make it this far.”
That prompted Ben Latham to stop stuffing his mouth with the last remaining crisp vegetables on his plate. “Cord still liking school?” Ben asked. I haven’t talked to him since the wedding in December. When exactly does he graduate and go on to vet school?”
“He’s almost done with his first year. With advanced placement courses and Keegan’s help, he’s ready for summer classes. He’ll take a full course load both semesters and that will go a long way to getting him prepared for the fall.” Nick shook his head. “Don’t know how the guy does it and still manages to keep the farm running like a well-oiled machine. But he does.”
“I hope he isn’t burning himself out,” Sheryl added.
“Are you kidding?” Jordan said. “I’ve never seen a guy turn around his life like he has. He’s determined to graduate in record time and get into vet school right along with Keegan.”
“That’s just it. Do you think he’ll burn
out?” Sheryl wondered. “With his background all the stress might make him—”
“Go over the edge again?” Nick finished. “I don’t think so. He and Keegan stay busy but seem to be happier than I’ve seen either one of them in a very long time. In between classes, they still have to take care of the rescue center, even though they have hired more help. You and Ben should make a point to visit with him while you’re here. That is if you can nail him down for longer than five minutes.”
Glancing around the table, Kinsey decided to spice things up a little. Calmly, she picked up her iced tea again, sipped. “So, how is it you guys decided to stay at a haunted B & B?”
At the question, all mouths immediately stopped chewing, all conversation grounded to a halt, including the globetrotter Logan Donnelly.
Henry and Elsa swapped stares and gaped. The sisters, Kay and Olivia, blinked in equal measures of shock while Ben and Sheryl merely exchanged a knowing gaze. But it was Ben who broke the silence. “Is she talking about who I think she’s talking about?”
Karen and Cory Fostwick looked intrigued. “Do tell us more,” Cory urged. “How cool would it be to go back home with a ghost sighting or two.”
For the first time since he’d taken his seat, Logan’s lips curved in a smile. “A ghost? Fascinating. Now there’s a detail that was left out of the brochure.”
Henry finally found his voice. “What kinds of ghosts?”
Kinsey swallowed the last bite of chicken on her plate before she corrected him. “Ghost. Just one. His name is Scott Phillips. The baby’s named for him,” she pointed casually in the direction of Baby Scott, then threw a grin and a wink at Jordan. Kinsey was delighted when she saw her hostess smiling back.
But Ben Latham almost came up out of his chair. He turned to Nick. “Now wait a minute. What makes her think Scott Phillips is haunting Promise Cove?”
“Doesn’t he know?” Kinsey asked. “I thought you guys were guard buddies?”
“I never saw the need to bring it up,” Nick explained sheepishly. To Ben he said, “You two haven’t been here for a while and when you do come for a visit you deserve to unwind. As I recall, we had a full house the last time you were here, too. Since you never said a word about seeing Scott…I didn’t see the need to mention it.”
“You’re serious?” Ben said. “You honestly believe he’s here on the grounds?”
“If you haven’t seen him, I wouldn’t worry about it,” Jordan tried to reassure them all, beginning to realize the talk might result in an unhappy guest or two.
But Kinsey was in a playful mood. “Well, the first time I saw him I almost had a stroke. I’d just checked in, had unpacked and was headed downstairs to the kitchen for dinner via the back staircase. It was the night before my first interview with Hartley. I was a nervous wreck anyway about the job. Plus, I’d just driven three and half nonstop hours from the Bay in traffic. As I walked down the steps, there was this guy walking up, dressed in shorts and a shirt. I thought it was a little chilly to be dressed like that, but I thought he belonged here, another guest heading back to his room—the man seemed so real—until he vanished right in front of me, went poof! That scared the crap out of me though. I was pretty sure I was suffering from travel fatigue…or something.”
“And I bet you couldn’t sleep a wink that night,” Elsa said.
“Not at all. For some reason, when I got back to my room, I slept like a baby that night, woke up refreshed and ready to knock Hartley’s socks off.”
“Have you seen this ghost since?” Karen wanted to know. “Because I’m with Cory, it would be such a kick to be able to say we saw a ghost on our honeymoon.
Kinsey waved a hand. “Oh lots of times. You have nothing to worry about. Scott is harmless.”
But Elsa looked like she wanted to run upstairs, start packing, and hit the road before the sun went down.
Henry put his hand on his wife’s arm for reassurance and stared at Nick. “What exactly do you intend to do about a ghost scaring your guests?”
Nick smiled in spite of the question. “Not much I can do, Scott was here first. It’s his home, too. He’s not a bad sort.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Elsa retorted.
At Elsa’s comment, for the first time, Kinsey began to realize she might’ve caused a firestorm, which hadn’t been her intent. “Relax. Like I said, Scott is…more than harmless. In fact, I think he wanted me to get the job, and stay here in Pelican Pointe.” Kinsey knew how it sounded. But feeling slightly guilty for having started the conversation in the first place, she felt like she needed to do a little damage control. “I sometimes feel his presence, even in town. So it isn’t like he’s inhabiting Promise Cove exclusively. He’s all over the area, too.”
“Now you’re embellishing,” Logan accused.
“Actually, I’m not. I’ve always believed in the paranormal. It’s just something my mom and I shared and got a kick out of discussing. That movie Ghost for instance is one of our all-time favorite movies. Scott is more like Patrick Swayze, a positive energy force trying to help, unless of course you complain about the accommodations. Then he gets a little testy. Right, Jordan?”
Jordan chuckled as she wiped her son’s runny nose and messy mouth about the same time he tried to shovel in more mashed potatoes. “Well, there was that grumpy woman from back East we couldn’t make happy about anything. As soon as she got here, she complained because we didn’t have a gym on the premises.”
“She’d been here for almost a week when I checked in,” Kinsey clarified. “Weller was her name. Samantha Weller from Boston, a snooty travel photographer. At least, she seemed that way to me.”
Nick nodded as he helped Hutton cut up more of the chicken on her plate. “She was a piece of work all right. We tried to explain to her that she could easily take a walk around the premises for exercise. There are plenty of pathways and trails around here to hike, even the one to get down to the cove. But she didn’t seem to be in the mood to appreciate fresh air or sunshine or nature— for a travel lover. Anyway, she kept balking at not having a gym, started grumbling about it more and more each day, especially after every one of the meals Jordan fixed for her—which she said was too high in carbs. Then one day…I suppose Scott decided to give her something to be truly unhappy about.”
With huge eyes, Elsa leaned forward. “What did he do?”
Nick laughed. “After that, Ms. Weller made a point to tell us about how someone kept messing with her room, rearranging her stuff, going through her things, turning over bottles, that sort of thing. During the entire week she was here there was always something she didn’t like about the place. The food Jordan served was either too high in calories, or the bed was too soft, or the stairs creaked too much. Well, you get the idea.”
Logan certainly did. To him, it sounded like a carbon copy of Fiona, another high maintenance woman who bitched about every little detail whenever they had traveled together. Even now Logan remembered how she’d embarrassed him with her vocal complaining, nothing was ever good enough for Fiona, not the room, unless it was the penthouse suite, or the room service, or some member of the staff who didn’t snap to attention on command.
But Jordan smiled at Nick’s description. “Ms. Weller ended up checking out two days early in a huff.”
“Nothing to worry about,” Nick promised Elsa Isakson and the others. “Scott is not a threat or a danger to anyone here.”
“I still wished you’d mentioned it to me,” Ben said. “Is that what had you so spooked when you first got here?”
Nick grinned at the memory. Ben had been the electrician who had rewired the old house saving Jordan thousands of dollars in the process. Nick scratched his chin. “I guess it was in the top two. My attraction to Jordan was the other.”
Jordan laid her hand on top of her husband’s with an unmistakable sigh. The sigh indicated marital bliss in spades. “Thank goodness we got that behind us.”
As cherry pie was passed to Logan and he took
the plate, he announced in the direction of the Isakson’s. “They’re more than likely just pulling your leg. It’s a pretty good marketing strategy when you stop to think about it though. It’s a known fact many B & B’s all over the country from one coast to the other, advertise they’re haunted. And make money catering to the crowd that believes that stuff.” He glared in Kinsey’s direction. “If I were you I’d take all this talk about a ghost with a grain of salt because I don’t believe in apparitions of any kind.”
“Really?” Kinsey asked with a wide smile. “If you don’t believe in ghosts, you will before you leave Promise Cove. Guaranteed. In fact, I’ll tell you what. If you don’t see Scott I’ll personally help you paint your lighthouse. I’m not a carpenter like Troy or good at construction. But I can wield a paint roller. What do you say?”
Her challenge intrigued him. “I hate to see anyone dangle manual labor as an incentive, especially when they’d lose.”
Kinsey shook her head and laughed. “You’re in for a helluva jolt when it happens. I’d really enjoy seeing it, too. If you don’t care for that wager then we could make it a lot more interesting.” Because she felt it was a sure bet—and because she’d started this she would damn well finish it—she raised the ante. “What do you say we bet twenty bucks? I say you’ll experience the ghost that is Scott Phillips in a big way.” Kinsey looked around the table. “Any other takers?”
“I’d take a part of that bet, but we’ll be leaving on Sunday,” Ben informed Kinsey.
“Oh it won’t take that long. Trust me,” Kinsey boasted with pure confidence. “Well, what about it, Donnelly? Are you game? Willing to put your money where your mouth is?”
Logan raised his glass. “Twenty bucks says your ghost is pure fiction.”
Nick grinned as he wiped Hutton’s chin. “I’m in.”
“You talked me into it,” Ben nodded, turning to his wife. “Hey, knowing Scott the way I did, I’d say he’s just stubborn enough to find a way to stick around.”
Lighthouse Reef (A Pelican Pointe Novel Book 4) Page 5