shower he spent a few extra minutes appreciating the inn’s excellent water pressure. He thought of Grace’s episode last night. What had provoked it? He hoped she felt better today.
He dressed in hiking clothes, stocked his backpack with water, and headed downstairs. The steps creaked in a familiar way, and he ran his hand down the railing nostalgically. He used to be so happy to get here that he’d wake up early every morning for a week or two. Dash down the stairs to find his mom in the kitchen making pancakes or on the porch enjoying a cup of coffee with his dad.
But his family wasn’t at the forefront of his mind today. How would Grace respond to him after yesterday? Would she be überprofessional to compensate for her embarrassment, or would she avoid him altogether? Hard to manage when you worked the front desk.
Wyatt was headed to the town library first, but he’d purposely avoided looking up the address. As he took the last stair, however, he discovered the person behind the front desk was not Grace and deflated.
The twentysomething man looked up from a spreadsheet wearing a congenial expression. “Good morning.”
“Morning.”
He looked to be in his midtwenties and dressed professionally in a polo and khakis. He was tall and fit with dark hair and bright-blue eyes. Something about his smile reminded him of Grace’s.
“I’m Levi, one of the innkeepers.”
Ah, the brother. “Wyatt.”
“Checking out? Or is there something else I can help you with?”
Sounds of movement thumped from above. Wyatt looked at the ceiling as if, by sheer force of will, he might make Grace appear.
He stepped up to the desk. “I was planning to hit the library today. Is it within walking distance?”
“Only about ten minutes.” Levi pulled out a town map. “We’re here. You follow Bayview into town, make a right at Church Street. It’s two blocks down on your left. You can take this. GPS is spotty around here.”
He took the map. “Thanks.”
“Do you have time for breakfast?”
His stomach was already twisting at the savory aromas emanating from the kitchen. But before Wyatt could respond, footfalls sounded on the steps, more than one pair. Grace and another woman made the turn on the landing and continued down.
He didn’t miss the way Grace’s steps stuttered as their eyes connected.
She lifted her chin. “Hello.”
“Morning.”
“I’m Molly, Grace’s sister.” The brunette popped out from behind Grace. She bubbled from the inside out with energy and warmth.
“Wyatt. Nice to meet you.”
“We didn’t really get a chance to meet yesterday in the dining room.”
Grace cleared her throat, giving her sister a warning look.
“I hope you enjoyed your meal,” Molly said. “Nobody puts out a spread like Miss Della.”
He opened his mouth to reply.
“You should definitely have breakfast this morning,” Molly continued. “You don’t want to miss the blueberry streusel muffins. Or the homemade granola. Well, about anything Miss Della makes is wonderful and—”
“Heading out on another hike?” Grace’s professional demeanor was in place with a little color in her cheeks.
He much preferred the high color to the ashen look of last night. “Eventually. I’m heading downtown to the library first.”
“Grace can show you the way.” The words erupted from Molly’s mouth like a geyser. “She was on her way to check out a rental space for her business, in town. It’s right on the way, isn’t it, Grace?”
Grace nailed her sister with a look. “I wouldn’t want him to miss out on Miss Della’s breakfast.”
“Actually, I’m not hungry just yet.”
Grace blinked at him.
“Perfect!” Molly bounced on her toes. “There you go then.”
A beat of uncomfortable silence passed.
Grace mushed her lips.
The brother glanced between Wyatt and Grace.
“Great,” Grace said finally. “It’s not far. Are you ready then?”
Wyatt hitched his bag higher on his shoulder. “Whenever you are.”
* * *
Grace headed down the porch, Wyatt on her heels. At least she thought he was. The man was as stealthy as a mountain lion. She’d planned to slip out of the house unnoticed, and she certainly hadn’t planned on escorting Wyatt into town.
He made her nervous. All she’d done so far was embarrass herself in front of him. He probably thought she was a loon. Maybe she was. Who had a panic attack at the sight of a feeble old lady?
But it hadn’t been the old lady. It had been the van. The one that had riddled her childhood with nightmares. The one that had caused her to miss so many days of second grade that she’d been held back.