Inner Harbor

“Everyone?” She seemed to shrink a little. Her voice rose. “I don’t want to be the object of people’s gossip. I want my personal life to be private.” She sighed at his guffaw. “Yes, I know. Privacy is impossible in Safe Harbor. All right. Goodbye.”

She hung up the phone, but stood staring at it for several moments. Eventually she moved to the table, but only to stack the rest of their dishes. Russ watched her stuff the white crockery with its delicate blue flowers into the dishwasher.

“Is everything all right?”

She looked at him, gave a half laugh that was not at all amused. “No. Absolutely nothing is all right. But I’ll manage. I always do.”

He got the impression she wanted to do much more than manage. What had happened to cause that sheen of happiness he thought so much a part of her fade away after one phone call? Where did she go when her eyes glazed over and her face stiffened into that mask of rigid self-control?

A sound broke the silence between them. Russ started out the door, twisted his head, noticed she wasn’t following.

“Annie?” She blinked, focused on him. She looked sad, about to burst into tears. He walked back, brushed a hand against her cheek. “I think someone needs you.”

“Oh. Okay.” Annie nodded, turned, walked through the doorway.

Russ followed her.

“Yowl!”

He quickened his step. Uh-oh. He’d meant to explain first.

A man with gray-streaked hair, granite jaw and midnight blue eyes that begged for their help waited in her foyer.

“She won’t leave me alone,” he muttered. He seemed glued to the spot.

“Who won’t?” Annie frowned, her eyes sliding down his frame until they arrived at the monstrously huge body of a marmalade-colored cat curled around his feet, purring a loud contented rumble. A smile twitched the corner of her mouth. “Oh, I see.”

“I’m not very good with cats,” he murmured, his face pinched in distressed lines. “Usually they don’t like me at all.”

“Well, this one does.”

“Apparently.” The man tried to move, but the cat counteracted his motions with her own.

Russ stood silent, watched as Annie tried to figure out a way to free her guest from its clutches.

“Were you wanting this place in particular, or did she chase you in here?”

“She was here when I arrived. But the sign says no pets.” His words sounded hesitant, confused. His eyes revealed little of his thoughts. “I’m Nathan Taylor. I’ll be coming to Safe Harbor for the next several months, but only on the weekends. I’d like to rent a room.”

“Wait a minute.” Annie studied him more closely. “I remember you. The man who saved Aidan. You were at my grand opening.”

His face darkened with embarrassment. “Yes.”

“I’m glad to see you again.”

She did look happy, Russ decided. The glare he’d been favored with had disappeared, replaced by a friendly smile.

“Well, we can certainly accommodate you here. As soon as we free you, that is.” Annie glanced at Russ.

He did his best to hide his guilt, but he knew from the furrow of her eyebrows that she’d seen some flicker of it in his face.

“I—er, I may be able to help.” He walked over and scooped up the monster cat. Instantly at peace, Marmalade curled herself over his shoulders and settled down to sleep. “I’m afraid she’s mine,” he admitted quietly.

“What?” Annie frowned at him. “But surely Felicity told you our policy of no pets.”

“Yes, she did.” Oh, why hadn’t he explained the cat’s presence earlier? Now it looked like he’d been trying to slip one past her. Which he had.

“You knew? Then why—”

“I thought that if I explained, you’d understand. She’s completely house-trained. She doesn’t scratch things or tear up shoes. Mostly she sleeps.” He shrugged, trying to appeal to her decency and love of animals, though to be frank, he wasn’t certain she did like animals. She certainly kept well out of reach of his cat.

“Marmalade is another legacy from my grandfather. I brought her in from the truck a few minutes ago.”

Annie ignored her newest client to direct visual darts of suspicion toward Russ Mitchard.

“As I’m positive Felicity explained to you, we don’t allow cats here. I can’t afford the damage claws could do to the quilts or the curtains, not to mention that woodwork.” She blanched a little at the mention of it, her eyes on the oak paneling. “It’s one of the rules I just can’t break.”

She wouldn’t budge. Russ knew that as surely as he knew his name. Annie Simmons was very protective of her business, very proud of what she’d accomplished. He’d noticed it earlier in the way she slid her hand over the gleaming stainless steel range in the kitchen, her quick mop up, which returned the shining glass table they’d eaten on to its pristine condition. She delighted in what she’d made here and she didn’t want it ruined. He didn’t blame her.

Of course, Marmalade wouldn’t hurt anything, but Annie didn’t know that.

“There are no animals allowed in this establishment. If that means you’re unable to stay with us, I’m very sorry, Mr. Mitchard. But I cannot and will not break my rule.” Her lips were pressed together in a firm line that brooked no argument.

“No problem.” He lifted the cat and walked to a corner by the desk. From behind a potted palm he pulled a black pet carrier. Within seconds, he’d stored the cat inside.

Russ wasn’t going to argue. He’d landed enough on her today. If he wanted to make any progress on the marriage issue, he needed to correct this mistake in judgment. He lifted the carrier and walked to the door, then stopped and faced her.

“I’ll find a place for Marmalade and then I’ll be back. She’s been declawed, so she wouldn’t hurt anything. But I don’t want to break your rules. I’ll see you later.”

He walked out her front door, headed for his truck. Today was not going the way he’d intended. But then, what did he expect? To walk in on Annie Simmons, announce that she needed to marry him so he could finally fulfill a dream and expect her to meekly agree? Put like that, it wouldn’t matter how many letters she’d read.

“Thanks a lot, Gramps,” he muttered, only half under his breath. “After today, she’ll probably never talk to me again. Let alone marry me. Then what will you do?” In the recesses of his mind Russ could almost hear the old coot chuckle with delight.

Annie bit her lip as she watched Russ Mitchard walk away with his cat, wishing she’d rephrased that. She’d sounded like a stuffy old spinster who couldn’t allow a cat to muss her home. But getting the bed-and-breakfast finished had taken such a long time, been so much work, eaten up every dime her mother had left her. Besides, the quilts had come from the Women’s League. She couldn’t imagine asking them to make her another because a cat had ruined one!

Then she remembered the reason Russ was here and felt even worse. How embarrassing to be proposed to for money, even by that sweet old man’s grandson. He’d put a nice face on it, pretended that wasn’t the only reason, but Annie knew he couldn’t want to marry her any more than she wanted to marry him.

She’d had to refuse his proposal, surely he understood that? If he came back, it would be better to keep things on a business plane and pretend his offer of marriage had never happened. Perhaps if she acted nonchalant, she could spare both their feelings.

A cough broke through her musings. Annie pasted a smile on her face, then turned to the man standing in front of her desk.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Taylor,” she apologized quietly. “Now let’s get you settled in.” She dealt with the registration, took an imprint of his credit card, all the while trying desperately to force Russ Mitchard out of her mind.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.” He looked confused.

Annie knew the feeling. Nothing was going the way it should have today. Two new customers, and she was mad?

“You didn’t interrupt a thing. If you’ll follow me?” She made herself calm down as she showed him to his room.