The Search The Secrets of Crittenden Cou - By Shelley Shepard Gray Page 0,8
Frannie had been in Beth’s many babysitting jobs.
But now she didn’t have a choice.
Panic surged forward as she felt the Lord gently remind her that sometimes it wasn’t the best idea to make promises that were difficult to keep. What was she going to do if she couldn’t make those quiches? Or the muffins Frannie was so proud of?
Or the granola? Frannie was mighty proud of her inn’s granola, and rightfully so. The granola was a crunchy mixture of brown sugar and oats, raisins, dried cranberries and dates, too. Sweat beaded her brow, showing Beth once again that blood and accidents and ambulances didn’t affect her half as much as an empty bowl of granola.
“Hey . . . is everything all right?”
She looked over her shoulder at the English man who leaned against the doorway. He had crystal blue eyes that were peering at her curiously, and an arrogant-looking posture that was in direct contrast with his question. Instead of looking like he wanted to help, he looked like he was counting on her not being able to do anything.
His arms were crossed over a scruffy-looking T-shirt hanging over a pair of jeans that had a rip in one of the knees. He was tan and fit and sure of himself. And all at once, he seemed to symbolize everything that had gone wrong over the last three hours. “Nee,” she finally replied. “I’m afraid everything is not all right. Frannie had to go to the hospital.”
“Frannie?”
“Frannie Eicher. She owns this place.” Glaring at him, she said, “You are a guest here, yes?”
“Oh. I am, but I never paid too much attention to the woman’s name.”
“Well, the woman you never paid too much attention to has gotten hurt.”
He scowled. “Hey, I booked the room through the Internet, and got in late last night. We spoke with each other only long enough for me to give her my credit card and for her to hand me a key. I wasn’t about to start making friends at midnight.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” Feeling rather shrewish, Beth forced herself to explain a little bit. “I’m Beth Byler. I’m a friend of Frannie Eicher’s. I don’t know much about her guests.” Or running a bed-and-breakfast, for that matter.
Now that things were smoothed over a bit, he wandered in, his heavy tan boots looking dusty, but luckily not tracking any dirt on the freshly mopped floor. “So, is she hurt badly?”
Beth hesitated. What was appropriate to share? She realized that she’d never paid too much attention to how Frannie dealt with her guests. “I’m afraid she’s hurt bad. Some glass got into her eye. An ambulance carried her away.”
“I saw that.” He looked around, taking an extra second or two to stare at the lone stick of butter in the bowl. “So, do you need some help in here? This place looks like it was turned upside down. I can help you clean up, if you really need it.”
Perhaps it was his confident tone and the way he said “really.” Or because he was pointing out the obvious. Whatever the reason, his offer rubbed her the wrong way. “There’s no need to help me clean. You’re a guest.”
“And you’re not?”
“No. Like I said, I’m a friend of Frannie’s.” The moment she said the words, she wished she could have taken them right back. She sounded prissy and full of herself. As if she was someone’s maiden aunt.
He leaned against the doorjamb, making Beth realize that he was a lot younger than she’d first thought. “So how does one become a friend of yours?”
If she hadn’t been so stunned at the question she probably would have stood there with her mouth open. But instead, she glared. “What kind of question is that?”
“An honest one.”
“Why? Are you looking for friends?”
“Maybe. I just got here. I could use a friend or two.”
“As could we all.”
“I hope you’re not always this suspicious of newcomers. You know I might be here for a while. I’m thinking about moving here permanently.”
“Why would you want to do that?”
“Seemed like a good idea,” he said, sounding like he was taking great pains to keep purposely vague.
Which she did not appreciate. She was rattled and worried about her friend. And worried about her promise to Frannie. The last thing in the world she needed was a secretive guest who spoke in riddles! “I’m surprised you even found us on the map. We’re pretty out of the way.”