started. I’ll bring your omelet out in a jiffy.”
Bree entered the adjacent room, where a long table and six chairs commanded the space. A solid-wood hutch sat on the far side, displaying china behind beveled glass paneled doors. The matching buffet table appeared against the opposite wall.
A coffee urn sat beside a tray of pastries, a bowl of fresh fruit, and a domed serving dish. When Bree lifted the lid, the savory aroma of smoked slab bacon mixed with that of the sweet, buttery Danishes and gave her a mini foodgasm. It seemed like overkill since she was the only guest, but she feared saying so might offend her hostess.
She could practically feel her hips getting wider from the smell alone. Unable to completely resist—Martha had gone to such trouble after all—Bree selected a small pastry, a banana, and two pieces of bacon.
After making herself a cup of coffee, she sat down at the table and picked up a copy of the Sumneyville Times, grinning at the headline. The big news wasn’t crime or politics; it was the announcement that potbellied pig races would be part of the upcoming Sumneyville Community Days celebration. Inside, there was even a special insert with a schedule of events, including a car show, live bands, and a tractor pull.
Bree sat back and sipped her coffee. Was there any place more wholesome? Going to the event and snapping some pics could be the perfect wrap-up to her article.
Ms. McGillicuddy slid a plate in front of her, then sat down with her own cup of coffee, and selected a pastry for herself.
“Thank you,” Bree said, refolding the paper and setting it to the side. “But please don’t feel the need to cook for me every morning. I’m used to just grabbing something quick.”
Ms. McGillicuddy seemed insulted. “Nonsense! Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and this is a bed-and-breakfast.”
Bree took a bite of the omelet and almost moaned. She’d become so accustomed to using nonstick spray that she forgot just how much flavor butter added to a meal. “This is delicious.”
“Glad you like it. So, did you get to do some of that exploring you were talking about last night?”
“I did, yes.” Bree told her about her drive around town and her dinner at Franco’s.
“Franco’s is good for Italian food,” Martha agreed, but the way she said it suggested that she didn’t think much of Italian food. “Do you have plans for today?”
“Sanctuary’s granted me an interview, so I’ll be heading up there this afternoon.”
“Oh?” Martha leaned forward in interest. “Are you going alone?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think that’s wise, dear?” Martha asked with a frown.
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Well, the Sanctuary is primarily men and former military men at that. Men who have”—Martha lowered her voice—“issues.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Bree told her, slightly amused by Martha’s concern.
Former military they might be, but based on her initial observations, they were also polite, respectful, and friendly.
Martha pressed her lips together and said nothing more, frowning into her coffee cup.
“I’d like to ask you some questions too,” Bree said.
“Me? Why would you want to interview me? I haven’t done anything.”
Bree was somewhat taken aback by Martha’s response. “I’d like your insight on the town. The people. What it’s like to live here. Things like that.”
“Oh,” Martha said, but the furrow between her brow remained. “I’m afraid I don’t have time for that right now.”
“Perhaps later then? After I get back?”
“Yes, I suppose that would be all right.”
“Excellent.”
Sensing that Martha was anxious to be on her way, Bree finished off the delicious omelet and drained the last of her coffee, which wasn’t great but hot and caffeinated. When her offer to help clean up was waved off, she thanked Martha again and opted for her backup plan—visiting the town library. One could tell a lot about a town based on the state of its libraries, churches, and bars.
Bree loaded up her small backpack with everything she’d need and set off for the library, choosing to walk instead of drive. It was another gorgeous summer day, and the six-block trek would help her burn off some of the high-calorie goodness she’d ingested.
She’d traveled the same road the night before, but doing so on foot gave her a better opportunity to soak in and appreciate the centuries-old architecture and the uniqueness of each individual business.
Shop owners were outside their places of business, wiping down display windows or sweeping the sidewalk. The curious looks she received were tempered with smiles and quiet