He nodded. “This is quite a library. I’d like to know the person who collected it.”

  Jane took this as her cue. “Hello,” she said, stepping into the library.

  “Clive was just admiring your books,” Belle said pleasantly. “Oh, have you two met yet, Jane? Clive just arrived from Phila—”

  “We’ve met, Belle.” Clive smiled at Jane. “I thought you’d forgotten your promise to give me the tour.”

  “It seems you’re finding your way without me.” Jane returned his smile.

  “Belle was doing her best,” he said. “But I’m afraid she hasn’t been able to get me past the library. It’s delightful.”

  “It was my father’s.” She waved her hand over the shelves. “He loved books.”

  “Good books.”

  “Yes, well, his taste was diverse. He was interested in so many subjects.”

  “Did you know this was a first edition?” He held out the book.

  “I’m not surprised. He was a great one for finding treasures at garage sales and flea markets.”

  “You don’t worry about your guests making off with any of these?”

  She laughed. “Well, we don’t frisk them at the door, if that’s what you mean.”

  He chuckled. “And I’m sure you must cater to an ethical sort of clientele.”

  “So far, we’ve been fortunate.” She took out a copy of Great Expectations and sighed. “I remember when my father wanted me to read this. I was fourteen and full of myself and I naturally assumed this would be a stuffy and boring old book. But Father promised to take me to dinner, just the two of us, if I read the whole thing.”

  “Did you?” asked Belle, staring at the thick book with a slight frown.

  Jane nodded. “I did. And I absolutely loved it.”

  “And your father took you to dinner?” asked Clive.

  “He did. Just the two of us. And we discussed the book and Dickens the whole time.” She sighed. “It’s one of my happiest memories.”

  “Your father must’ve been quite a man.” Clive frowned. “I assume he’s not with us anymore?”

  “He passed away. And, you’re right, he was an amazing man.” Then Jane gave Clive a quick history of her father. “He left a rich legacy.”

  “And you should see the sweet little chapel where he was pastor,” gushed Belle. “It’s just the most perfect spot for a wedding.”

  Clive nodded, then turned his full attention on Jane. “Well, you did promise me a tour, Jane. Are you still on?”

  “Of course. I just got tied up with my sister and some inn business.”

  “If you’re too busy,” said Belle, “I’d be happy to show him around. I feel almost as if I live here now.”

  “I’m not too busy,” said Jane. “But if you’d like to join us, Belle, you are more than welcome.”

  Belle grinned. “Don’t mind if I do. I’ve heard bits and pieces of history, but I’m always interested in learning more.” She turned to Clive. “Did I mention that I am moving to Acorn Hill?”

  “How nice,” he said in a tone that sounded unenthusiastic.

  “Yes. I’ve only been here a short while, and I feel just completely at home. Why, I’ve even found a house that I’d like to purchase. It’s a lovely little cottage that I plan to paint a soft shade of pink, the same color as the inside of a seashell.” She turned to Jane. “Don’t you think that would be pretty?”

  “It would be a rather unusual color for a bungalow,” said Jane as she led them from the library toward the parlor.

  “A bungalow?” repeated Belle in alarm. “Why, it’s not a bungalow, Jane. It’s a cottage.”

  “Actually it’s a bungalow-style cottage,” said Jane. “Bungalow refers to a type of design that was popular after the turn of the past century. I think bungalows are charming.”

  “Oh,” Belle nodded as if taking this in, and Clive winked at Jane. They continued the tour, and Jane sensed that Clive’s opinion of Belle was not entirely positive. Finally, as they were going out to see the garden, Belle, who had been growing increasingly quieter, excused herself.

  “What an interesting character,” said Clive.

  “She most certainly is.” Jane led the way along the foot path. “Sometimes she seems a bit much, but she’s actually a very sweet person.”

  “Sort of like a sugared Georgia peach.”

  Jane chuckled. “Well, you do have a way with words, Mr. Fagler.”

  “Clive.”

  She nodded, feeling her cheeks warm as she began to explain the basics of herb gardening. Perhaps it was simply the afternoon sun. Or perhaps it was something more.

  Wednesday evening after supper, Jane went to Sylvia’s home to watch videos and catch up. Belle was over at the carriage house with Ethel, and Clive was treating himself to a fashionably late dinner at Acorn Hill’s fine restaurant, Zachary’s.

  Louise and Alice sat companionably in the living room, Alice stretched out on the burgundy sofa and Louise seated on the matching overstuffed chair. Alice was engrossed in a new mystery, while Louise had just started knitting a tea cozy, using a pattern Jane had found for her on the Internet. The inn didn’t really need another cozy, but Louise had some rusty red wool left over from a scarf she had knitted for Alice and decided that the color would go well with the paprika-colored cabinets in the kitchen. Other than the soft classical music wafting from the CD player and the click of knitting needles, the inn was silent.

  After a while, Louise put her knitting in her lap and cleared her throat. Alice continued to read and Louise knew that her sister was deep in a fictional world. Although she hated to bother Alice, Louise could not hold her tongue for another minute.

  “Alice, dear, I’m sorry to interrupt, but we really need to talk.”

  Alice’s eyes seemed reluctant to leave the page, but she eventually closed her book and focused on Louise. “Yes?”

  “It’s about Jane and … well … Justin.”

  “Oh, she told me what she did about his reservation.” A smile crept onto Alice’s lips. “I have to admit that I laughed. Canceling that reservation reminded me of some naughty tricks Jane pulled as a child.”

  “Yes, well, I didn’t find it quite so amusing. However, truth be told, now that the act is done, I’m glad that we could accommodate the honeymoon couple. And I’m pleased for Jane’s sake that Justin won’t be staying here. That could have been awkward, if not painful, for Jane. But that isn’t what I want to discuss right now.” Louise let her glasses drop down to hang from the chain around her neck. “I want to talk about Justin’s coming East and what it might mean for us.”

  Alice swung her legs off the couch and onto the floor. “You mean if he wants Jane to give their marriage another chance?”

  “Exactly. Although they are divorced, perhaps Justin has changed. Maybe he’s realized what was lost and wants to regain it.”

  “Actually, Louise, when Jane told me he was coming, I broached that idea with her.”

  “And?”

  “I suppose I didn’t put it quite right. I was trying to say that if she wanted to go back to San Francisco with him, to sort things out and start over, I thought she should be free to do so. But I did a poor job because she thought I was urging her to leave.”

  “Oh dear.”

  “Well, we got over that little misunderstanding and agreed that if it’s God’s will for them to reunite, then Jane will know it.”

  “That’s precisely it,” said Louise, leaning forward and waving a knitting needle for emphasis. “We have to be prepared for that possibility. If Jane feels led to give her marriage another try, we don’t want her to be torn. We don’t want her thinking that she’s deserting us. She must make the decision without feeling we have any claims on her.”

  “And how do we assure her of this?”

  “I’ve been giving it a lot of thought. I believe that you and I are happy here and even if Jane left us, we’d want to continue with the inn as best we could.”

  “Yes, that’s what I’d want too. But could we manage? Jane does so much, adds so much.”

  “We certainly couldn’t run the inn the way we do now, but I think if we lowered our standards a bit, we could manage.”

  “Lower our standards?” Alice’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

  “Oh, I simply mean in regard to the food we serve. Certainly neither you nor I will suddenly develop into a chef of Jane’s caliber. And we can’t afford to hire someone who could fill Jane’s shoes. But if we relied on the Good Apple for breakfast breads and pastries, and if we advertised continental rather than full breakfasts, then I think we could make do.”

  “Yes, breakfast is the biggest hurdle. We could hire help with linens and cleaning during the busy seasons, and I could cut back my work at the hospital. And I suppose we could get help for the grounds and garden as well.”

  “Exactly. And I, of course, could begin to limit my number of students. Perhaps I’ll stop teaching during the summer, our busy season. So many children go on vacation during that time anyway.”

  “But then we’ll need to be extra careful of our budget and expenses. We’ll need to tighten our belts to cover paying for outside help and cutting back on our jobs. Not only that, we should send Jane her share of the profits to cover her investment.”

  “I know, Alice, but I’ve tentatively worked out most of those considerations.” Louise put her glasses back on and reached for a yellow legal pad that was tucked into her knitting bag. She reviewed the numbers and sighed deeply. “I think we can do it. It will be tight, and we won’t have much set aside for the unexpected.”

  “God has always taken care of us,” Alice reminded her.

  “Yes.” Louise firmly nodded. “And even if it’s not easy, it might be interesting. We might need to become more creative about filling the inn during off times, but I do believe we could do it, Alice.”

  “That’s good news, I—I guess.” Her voice broke just slightly.

  Louise looked over at her sister, seeing the tears glistening on her slightly flushed cheeks. “Oh, Alice.” Louise got up and sat next to Alice on the sofa. She put her arm around her sister’s quivering shoulders. “Oh dear, I know this is hard. I don’t want to lose Jane either. But we must be supportive of whatever choice she makes.”

  “I know.” Alice sniffed, searching in her jeans pocket for a tissue. Louise removed a fresh, neatly folded hankie from her sweater sleeve and handed it to Alice.

  “Somehow we will get through this,” Louise said with confidence she did not feel.

  “I do understand,” said Alice. “But I’ll miss Jane so. It seems we’ve had her back for such a short time.”

  Suddenly Louise’s eyes were brimming with tears too. “I know how you feel. She was gone for so long. It seemed she lived at the end of the earth. But I know that we both agree about the sanctity of marriage … the solemnity of marriage vows.”

  Alice nodded sadly, dabbing at her nose.

  “And if Jane and Justin can come together again, this time in a happy, healthy and godly union, it is our duty to do all we can to help Jane.”

  “Y-y-yes,” Alice said. “You know you can count on me, Louise. I’ll do whatever I can.”

  “I am certain you will.” Louise brushed a tear off her own cheek. “And who knows, perhaps Jane might open a Grace Chapel Inn out in California. Perhaps we could take turns going out there to substitute for her while she returned to Acorn Hill to visit.”

  Alice responded with a weak laugh. “You know I hate to be selfish, Louise, but I’d insist that you go first. I would want to be here in Acorn Hill with our dear Jane.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jane Howard!” exclaimed Ethel as she burst into the kitchen early Thursday morning without bothering to knock. “I have a bone to pick with you.”

  “Good morning to you, too, Auntie,” said Jane pleasantly. “I thought you were Belle’s friend,” snapped her aunt as she pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down with a loud harrumph.

  “I thought I was too.” She continued cracking eggs.

  “Belle told me that you snatched a perfectly lovely man right out from under her nose yesterday.”

  “I did what?” Jane turned around and stared at her aunt.

  “She said that she and Clive Fagler, that columnist from the Inquirer, were getting along famously until you swept in and stole him from her.”

  Jane tossed an eggshell into the sink. “She said that?”

  Ethel shrugged. “Those weren’t her exact words.”

  “Well, if you’re going to go around repeating what others have said, you might at least attempt to use their exact words.”

  Ethel gave her head an impatient shake. “She simply said that she felt that she might’ve had a chance with Mr. Fagler until you entered the picture. And, in Belle’s defense, she was very forgiving.”

  “Forgiving?” Jane frowned. “What would she be forgiving of?”

  “Being hurt.”

  “Well, I’m sorry she was hurt. But when I registered Clive, I told him I’d give him a tour of the inn. I was sidetracked by Louise when Belle made his acquaintance. Then, when I was finished speaking to Louise, I went out and found them. That’s when Clive asked me to give him the promised tour.”

  “Why didn’t you suggest that Belle give him a tour?”

  “Actually, I think she suggested something like that herself. Clive was not interested.”

  “Well!”

  “I invited Belle to join us and she did for a while.”

  “Until she realized it was useless.”

  Jane held up her hands in a helpless gesture. “Maybe it was useless, Auntie. Clive is not her type. Not in the least.”

  “Perhaps you should’ve allowed him to figure that out for himself, Jane.”

  “He did.”

  Ethel stood. “Well, I thought you were on our side, Jane. I can see I was mistaken.”

  “This isn’t about sides, Aunt Ethel. I like Belle and I hope the best for her. But I know that Clive Fagler would not be the best match for her.”

  Her aunt’s eyebrows shot up. “Why? Do you know something negative about the man?”

  “No, of course not. I simply mean that he and Belle would be a bad match.”

  “In your opinion.”

  “And his.”

  “Fine, fine,” said her aunt in a weary tone. “I suppose I can’t expect any help from you.”

  Jane leaned forward on the kitchen table between them. “You know, Auntie, it wasn’t long ago that you were on my case, trying to get me to have some interest in meeting a man. Now I happen to meet one that I like and you act as if—”

  “Oh, Jane!” Ethel slapped her hand over her mouth with a shocked look. “You are absolutely right.” Now she leaned forward over the kitchen table, her face just inches from Jane’s and a hopeful expression in her eyes. “Are you interested in Clive Fagler?”

  Jane shrugged. “He’s a nice man. We have a lot in common.”

  Ethel smiled. “Well, isn’t that wonderful, Jane. Please, forgive me for being slow on the uptake. I suppose I can be a little gung ho sometimes. Lloyd says that I tend to think with my heart more than with my head.” She rubbed her hands together with enthusiasm. “Goodness, I cannot wait to meet this literary man. He does sound most interesting.”

  Jane knew she’d made a mistake, but at least Ethel was pacified for the moment. Jane hoped that Ethel wouldn’t overwhelm Clive. Perhaps it would be well to warn him that he’d landed in a place where feminine folly was becoming epidemic.

  “I’m sorry I can’t discuss this further,” said Jane, “but Alice has gone to work and Louise is talking to Cynthia on the phone, and I need to get busy with breakfast right now.”

  “Would you like any help?” offered Ethel.

  Jane was too busy to accept help from Ethel, who usually slowed things down. “Thanks, Auntie,” she said. “I think I have it under control. But if you’d like to join us for breakfast and perhaps play hostess until Louise gets off the phone, you are more than welcome.”

  “Oh, that would be lovely.” She winked at Jane. “And now I can meet Mr. Fagler.”

  Suddenly Jane questioned the wisdom of inviting her aunt to breakfast. “Do take it easy on him, Auntie. He is our guest.”

  Ethel feigned a wounded expression. “Goodness, Jane, you make it sound as if I plan to chew the poor man up and have him for breakfast.” She straightened her shoulders and turned toward the swinging door. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open and marched into the dining room.

  As Jane worked on breakfast, she could hear Clive, Belle and her aunt conversing. She couldn’t make out the words, but it sounded congenial. If nothing else, Clive should be amused by the two of them. Perhaps he was gathering humorous material for his writing. Before long, Louise joined her. “Cynthia needed advice,” she said as she arranged pastries on a warmed platter.

  “What sort of advice?” asked Jane.

  “Nothing terribly important,” said Louise. “She can’t make up her mind where to go on vacation. She wants to go to New Zealand with a friend but can’t afford it. And the more we talked the more it sounded like she can’t afford to take that much time off from work either. So she was considering the Bahamas but thinks it will be too hot in July.”

  “Tell her to come here,” suggested Jane.

  “I tried that, but she said, ‘No offense, but Acorn Hill is not exactly a vacation destination for singles.’”

  “Did you tell her about Belle?”

  “I did.” Louise laughed. “And that’s probably what kept us on the phone for so long. Cynthia was so amused that she suggested she might come down for the weekend.”

  “Did you tell her we were booked?”

  “Yes, but she could stay with me in my room,” said Louise.

  Then Jane filled her in on Ethel’s accusation that Jane had snatched an available male from Belle. “I really don’t think Belle is Clive’s type.”

  “No, I wouldn’t think so.” Louise studied Jane with a curious expression. “Although you might be.”

  “He’s an interesting man.” Jane picked up the fruit platter she’d just prepared and nodded toward the dining room. “Our guests are waiting.”