The Room with the Second-Best View (30 page)

BOOK: The Room with the Second-Best View
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“Feels like real letterhead,” Al said.

They were interrupted by a shout. “Tootsie Wootsie, you come back here!”

A gray cat dashed across the yard, and Tuesday Love rounded the corner of the house at a run, barefoot and carrying a pair of high-heeled sandals.

Behind Al, a canine bellow alerted him to impending disaster. He leaped toward the door, but before he took more than a step, Rufus soared through the screen. He landed with a crash that drew the attention of everyone in the yard, righted himself, and darted after the cat. The feline leaped for a tree and soared upward just as Rufus reached the trunk.

An uproar of shouts, screeches, hisses, and barks ensued, along with the bleating from the terrified goat.

Beneath it all, a completely different noise reached Al's ears. The high-pitched sound of juvenile laughter.

Catching Justin's eye, Al gestured for him to follow. Together they crept in the opposite direction, around the corner by the driveway and past the front porch. At the far edge, Al motioned for Justin to stop. Together they craned their necks and peered around the corner.

Just as Al expected.

Overcome with giggles, the culprits, hidden behind a row of giant lilac bushes, were so involved in watching the chaos they were completely unaware of Al's and Justin's approach until it was too late.

Justin grabbed each of them by the collars of their T-shirts. “Got you.”

At least Al had the satisfaction of seeing their laughter replaced by identical expressions of sheer panic.

“Hooligans!” Lorna's voice echoed in the confines of the parlor. She shook an accusing finger in the boys' faces. “You deserve to be locked away like the delinquents you are.”

Millie almost felt sorry for the Wainright boys. They, more than most, understood the threat of a juvenile detention center. They sat huddled together in the center of the sofa, wretched and despondent.

“What were you thinking?” Susan paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, her creamy white skirt billowing with every step. “Why do you hate me so much?”

Shoulders hunched, Forest shook his head. “We don't hate you, Dr. Susan.”

“We like you,” Heath said.

“Then why would you purposefully try to sabotage my wedding?”

Heath whispered to his brother. “What's that mean?”

“She thinks we wanted to wreck things,” Forest answered.

“No ma'am.” Heath raised earnest eyes. “We heard you talking about how you didn't have any friends to invite on account of most of your friends being animals.”

Forest nodded. “We got to thinking that animals are people too, so why can't they have a little fun every now and then?”

Justin, who had taken up a stance in the corner after delivering the miscreants to the parlor to face their feminine interrogators, spoke up. “You expect us to believe you did this out of the goodness of your hearts so dogs and cats could attend a party?”

The two exchanged guilty glances.

“Nah,” Forest admitted. “Mostly we thought it would be funny.”

Millie turned away to hide her smile. They had certainly achieved their goal, though it might be a while before either Susan or Justin were able to see the humor of the situation.

“Funny?” Lorna drew herself up and glowered down at the pair. “You
stole
letterhead from a business and sent a fake communication. You could be prosecuted for forgery, mail fraud, and theft.”

Forest's head jerked upright. “I didn't steal nothing. She gave it to me.”

He pointed at Susan, who nodded. “He's right. But I thought you were going to draw horses, not print a fake wedding invitation.” She lifted the crumpled paper she held. “How'd you do this anyway? With the exception of some wording problems, it looks authentic.”

“We looked up wedding invitations on the Internet and added the stuff about the pets.”

“We've got a printer at home.” Heath shrugged. “Paper's paper.”

The parlor door opened, and Al led a furious Alice into the room. Catching sight of their mother, the young criminals sank even lower.

Alice marched over and planted herself directly in front of them. “You two are grounded for the rest of your lives. No TV, no tablets, no Game Boys, nothing. You'll be lucky if you're allowed out of your bedroom before you graduate from high school.” She turned to Susan and, covering her mouth with one hand, extended the other. “I can't tell you how sorry I am. I don't know how I can ever make up for this, but I'll find a way.” Tears choked her voice. “And I'll resign. As soon as you can find a replacement, you'll never have to see any of us again.”

Millie's heart went out to the wretched woman. Obviously mortified at her boys' behavior, she must feel like such a failure.

“Oh, Alice, you'll do no such thing.” Susan stepped forward and gathered the weeping woman in an embrace. “How could I ever manage without you and Millie? Losing you over this prank really would be a disaster.”

Breaking into the emotional embrace, Justin put a hand on his soon-to-be wife's shoulder. “Can we delay this conversation a bit? We've got a herd of animals and people in the backyard waiting for a wedding that they think they were invited to, and a minister who informed me he has an appointment with his barber this afternoon that he doesn't want to reschedule. And besides…” The tender look he fixed on Susan would melt any woman's heart. “I don't want to wait a minute longer to marry you.”

Millie thought of the lovely table laid out with crystal and silver. “And what about after the ceremony? We don't have enough food to feed all those people.”

“I have an idea.” Susan's grin as she gazed at Justin revealed not a smidge of stress, only love. “Let's invite everyone to join us at the Whistlestop for lunch. We can take the cake and cut it there.”

“Perfect.” He held out a crooked elbow. “Shall we go get married, Dr.-Almost-Mrs. Hinkle?”

Susan looped her arm through his, and they headed for the door.

“Wait!” Lorna halted them with an impervious shout, eyeing the guilty pair on the sofa. “I demand to know what's to be done with
them.

Albert, who had remained silent through the entire encounter, piped up with a suggestion. “Let them work to make up for their mischief. I have the perfect job to start them off.” A devilish grin spread across his face as he whipped something from behind his back. Millie recognized the item instantly—a box of doggie cleanup bags. He leveled a stern gaze on the boys. “There's going to be a huge mess in my backyard. Before you leave, I expect it to look like no animal was ever here.”

Chapter Twenty-One

T
he day Al had looked forward to for three weeks finally arrived. The guests were checking out, and he and Millie were about to get their house back.

They stood side by side on the porch to bid farewell to Thomas Jeffries and his friend, Mark Fenrod.

“You have a beautiful home, Mrs. Richardson, and you're a marvelous cook.” Mark rubbed a hand over his protruding middle. “It's not often a man is treated to eggs Benedict, and that was the best I've ever tasted.”

Millie awarded him a gracious smile. True, she'd had to get up much earlier than she wanted in order to prepare the special last-morning breakfast, but as Lorna had told her, “All the best B&Bs serve eggs Benedict.”

“Thank you. I hope you'll come and stay with us again when we're officially open.”

“I look forward to it.” Shaking Albert's hand, he headed for his car.

Instead of shaking her hand, Thomas pulled her into a quick hug. “I can't thank you enough for all you've done for Susan. She thinks so highly of you, almost as if you were family.”

“We feel the same for her,” Millie assured him.

“And thank you for hosting the wedding. In spite of everything, I think it turned out well.” He cocked his head. “Weird, but well.”

Millie laughed. “As long as Susan and Justin are happy, we are too.”

Thomas pulled a checkbook out of his pocket and asked Albert, “What do I owe you? I want to pick up the tab for Mark too.”

They had discussed the matter last night in bed. Al shook his head. “Nothing. As Millie said, we consider Susan and Justin part of the family. That makes you a de facto relative.”

From the look on his face, Thomas was prepared to argue the point.

Millie forestalled the disagreement. “If you force a check on us, we'll only tear it up after you've gone.” She grinned. “If you want to repay us, tell your friends about our B&B after we open.”

“It's a deal.” He shook Albert's hand and trotted down the stairs. Sliding behind the wheel of his Lexus, he followed his friend down the driveway.

They started to enter the house when the door opened and Ross appeared, lugging his knapsack and laptop case. The difference in his appearance this morning compared to the day of his arrival was remarkable. A true smile rested easily on his face, and he held himself upright instead of slouching. Of course, the haircut Lorna had paid for a few days before the wedding helped, but the change went deeper than appearances.

Millie took his hand and held it. “It has been a pleasure getting to know you, Ross. And I've been meaning to tell you that I'm following your blog. You're a good writer.”

A blush stained his cheeks. “Thank you, Mrs. Richardson.”

“She's not the only one,” Albert added. “I was talking to a couple of the guys at the Whistlestop last night, and they tell me business has picked up in the past week. Tourists coming to the Creek, spending money and exclaiming how the place is just like they read on the Internet. Seems you've got quite a following.”

“I wasn't going to say anything, but…” He lowered his gaze. “I received an email a few days ago asking me to submit my résumé and samples. I did, and Friday I got a writing assignment from National Geographic's
Traveler
magazine. They're sending me to Europe.”

Millie clapped her hands over her mouth and squealed. “That's wonderful, Ross! Congratulations. But why didn't you tell us then?”

He shrugged. “I didn't want to steal Justin and Susan's thunder. It was their big day, not mine.”

Al shook his hand. “I plan on doing some traveling myself when I retire. Looking forward to reading your articles. When the B&B opens, maybe you'll write another piece about us.”

“Consider it done.” His gaze rose and swept the height of the house. “It'll be a pleasure to recommend this place and its excellent hosts.”

He descended the stairs and, tossing his bags into the backseat of his beat-up vehicle, gave a final wave. At the end of the driveway, he swerved onto the grass to make way for a limousine, the black paint shining in the late morning sun.

On cue, the door opened, and Miss Hinkle exited the house. She swept across the porch to gather Millie in a smothering hug.

“Millie dear, it has been an absolute pleasure. Things were a touch rough at first, but you've the good sense to listen to sound advice. This morning's breakfast was…” She kissed her fingertips. “Well done, my dear. Well done.”

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