“He was a good man. Had his flaws, like any. Made me crazy some of the time, and made me laugh a lot. I wouldn’t have had him any different. Not one bit.” She put an arm around Hope’s shoulder for a hug. “If Ryder doesn’t make you laugh, you toss him back. Sex isn’t worth it if he doesn’t make you laugh. I think I’ll go interrupt his day before I go nag at Clare.”

Hope watched her walk across the lot in her red sneakers, hailing Ryder as she went. And he straightened, shook his head, and grinned down at his mother.

Who wouldn’t want to be Justine when they grew up? Hope thought, and slipped back inside.

SHE DIDN’T HAVE time to think about potential lovers or ghosts, or anything else once the Friday arrivals began to roll in. Hope walked—or jogged—up and down the steps too many times to count. She figured until the fitness center opened, she got plenty of cardio right on the job. She showed guests to their rooms, answered questions, accepted compliments on the decor in the name of her boss, served refreshments, offered advice on dining and shopping.

When her Civil War couple returned, she set them up with wine—on request—in The Courtyard.

Some guests, she knew from experience, wanted a private little getaway where the innkeeper was nearly as invisible as Lizzy. Others wanted her to be a part of their experience, wanted to share with her the adventures of their day.

She listened and chatted when it was called for, vanished when it wasn’t. And like Justine with the town, Hope kept her ear to the ground of Inn BoonsBoro.

By five, with a full house, she had guests scattered around The Courtyard and in The Lounge.

“I can stay,” Carolee told her. “And that woman in E&D has you running your tail off. She assumed we’d have a wine list,” Carolee said, trying for a snooty accent. “And she certainly hopes we have Greek yogurt. It’s not that I minded running out to get it, but she could’ve asked nice—or better, in advance.”

“I know, I know. She’s a pill.” Hope poured out another bowl of bar mix. “It’s only two days,” she said like a mantra. “It’s only two days. And maybe she’ll be less of a pill as it goes on.”

“That type was born being a pill. She snapped her fingers at you.”

She had, Hope remembered, but for some reason it made her laugh. “Oh, girl, girl—because I’m much too important to be expected to remember or use your name—do you at least have water crackers available? I’d like to give her a water cracker.”

Now Carolee laughed. “Oh well, everybody else seems really nice, and ready to relax and enjoy. I can stay,” she repeated.