Part 37 (1/2)

He turned and looked at me. ”Morning,” he said. His gaze went from me to Rover. ”I didn't know you had a dog.”

”I just got him. The pound named him Rover but I'm thinking of changing his name once we get better acquainted.” I wrapped my arms around my middle as a chill settled over me.

”Rover's a fine name,” he said, and leaned on his shovel. ”Can't see changing it, but then you didn't ask my opinion.”

That hadn't seemed to bother him earlier, I noticed. ”What are you doing here?” I asked, more curious than anything. Our last meeting had been a bit strained. I wasn't sure what to think of this handyman. Yet despite our awkward beginning, I rather liked him.

Mark leaned on the shovel. ”You wanted a price quote on setting up a garden area, didn't you?”

”Well, yes, but ...” He'd led me to believe that it would be some time before he was ready to start a project of such magnitude. I hadn't expected him to get back to me this soon.

”But what?”

”Nothing; it's just that I didn't expect to see you so soon.”

”Do you want me to come back another time?”

He grinned as he said it, knowing full well I didn't. ”Of course not.” I hesitated and then decided to forge ahead. ”Can I ask you something?”

”Nothing has stopped you before.” He gestured with his hand as if granting me permission.

”Why do you need a shovel?” It was an estimate, and as far as I could see, that required a tape measure and not a shovel.

He chuckled, the sound of his amus.e.m.e.nt causing his breath to come in foggy bursts. ”I'm not burying a body if that concerns you.”

I smiled. ”The thought hadn't entered my mind.”

He grinned and I was surprised by how warm his eyes got when he smiled.

”I needed it to see how deep some of the roots went, nothing more,” he said.

I was getting colder by the minute and I noticed Rover had wandered back inside the house. ”Come in for coffee when you're finished, if you want.”

He paused as though tempted. ”Can't today, but thanks for the offer.”

”Can't or won't?” I asked.

He shrugged as though the question had caught him off guard. ”Perhaps a little of both.”

I heard the phone ring, and the sound seemed inordinately loud, coming from my small office.

”You better get that,” Mark suggested.

I nodded, turned away, and rushed into the house.

”Rose Harbor Inn,” I answered, a bit breathless by the time I grabbed the receiver.

”h.e.l.lo,” a female voice returned, almost as if she had dialed a wrong number.

”Can I help you?” I asked.

Again the hesitation. ”Yes, I was wondering if you have a room available in May, around high school graduation time.”

I checked my book. ”I do.” In fact I didn't have anyone down that far in advance.

”Wonderful.” She sounded surprised and disappointed all in one.

”Would you like to make a reservation?”

She hesitated and then said with some reluctance, ”Yes, perhaps that would be best.” She didn't seem the least bit convinced that this was what she wanted.

”The name?”

Again she hesitated and after a moment rushed the words. ”Smith. Mary Smith.”

”All right, Mary, I have you down. Would you like to secure the date with a credit card?”

”No ... would it be all right if I sent you a cas.h.i.+er's check?”

”No problem.” A cas.h.i.+er's check? Interesting. I had to wonder if it was because she didn't want to use her real name.

No sooner had I hung up the phone then I got a second call regarding the same weekend. It was a man this time.

”I'd like to make a reservation for my wife and me for our anniversary. It's in May,” he said, sounding matter-of-fact. ”If possible.”

”It's possible. The name?” I asked.

”Kent and Julie s.h.i.+vers.”

”Okay, Kent, I have you down. I'll see you in May.” How odd that I'd received two separate reservations, four months down the road, for the same weekend.

I hung up again and immediately wondered about the mysterious Mary Smith. Was that really her name? I wouldn't have given it a second thought if she hadn't sounded so unsure herself.

And Kent s.h.i.+vers. He'd seemed oddly flat and emotionless when he'd booked the room.

I returned to the laundry room and added the detergent to the washer. As I closed the lid, I hesitated. ”You were right, Paul,” I whispered, as I stood motionless in front of the was.h.i.+ng machine. My mood instantly lightened. Rose Harbor Inn would welcome its guests whatever their needs. I wasn't alone. I had Paul with me, and Rover, too.

As to Mary Smith and Kent s.h.i.+vers and his wife, I couldn't help wondering what it was that required healing in their lives.