By the time Annie got back to the Inn, Kevin and Earl were hard at work on the upstairs bedrooms. The downstairs was complete except for the furniture in the great room. But, as with the rest of the beds and bureaus, the deliveries had to wait until they figured out how to pay for them. Annie had already decided that the first half of the advance for Bedlam in the Blue Room would cover much of it, and she really wanted to chip in. In the meantime, as long as Kevin and Earl were determined to stay positive, she might as well get serious about collecting decorative pieces, including the art. With Jonas coming back, maybe he could help gather Vineyard natural pieces that would complement his paintings that Annie chose with Donna’s help.

“Mom wants to see you,” Kevin said.

“Is she okay?”

“About the same I think. But she said she was really tired this morning.”

“Probably from the trip back from the hospital.” Annie was looking forward to Georgia Nelson’s starting the next day; in spite of the guidance Georgia had already provided, Annie feared that she’d do something wrong.

Kevin kept painting and didn’t answer. His moods were still swinging these days—Annie didn’t know if it was only because of Donna, or if part of it was due to Taylor, whom he no longer mentioned, and, as far as Annie could tell, he was no longer seeing. Maybe it was both those things plus the money issues. She would talk to him later. And she certainly wouldn’t flaunt her engagement to John.

Her engagement!

Annie Sutton, on the dark side of fifty, engaged to be married for a third time. Murphy would have been excited; she would have been her maid of honor and made sure the day was perfect. And she, too, would have loved John.

With a small lump in her throat, Annie left the Inn and went down to the cottage. She had once thought she’d grown used to having people she loved leave forever, but now, with Donna’s situation, sorrow had returned. “Every loss reminds you of every loss you’ve ever had,” she’d once read, back when she’d been grieving over Brian, her parents, Murphy.... Stop! she ordered herself, as she’d had to do too often lately. Then she put on her game face and went into the cottage.

Donna was in the living room, sitting in the rocker, wrapped in Ellen Sutton’s quilt. Ironic, Annie thought, then she heard Murphy whisper: Or is it?

Clearing her throat, Annie asked, “How are you this morning?”

Donna smiled back, tilting her head in an “Oh, you know” kind of way. “Did you have a nice night?”

Annie sat on the sofa. “Can you keep a secret? An absolute secret for a few days anyway?”

“I been known to keep secrets for years.”