Inner Harbor

“I take it he’s another guest?”

“That remains to be seen.” Annie met his curious stare but did not elaborate. “Breakfast is served from six-thirty to nine. I hope that will suit you, Mr. Taylor?”

“Sure. Whatever. I’m here to relax.” He set his duffel bag on the bed.

“I’ll leave you to get settled in, then. Please make yourself at home.” She moved toward the doorway.

“If I correctly remember our introduction at your opening, you’re a native to the area, aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

Curious, Annie turned back, one hand on the doorknob. “Why, yes, I am.”

“Then you know Constance Laughlin.”

“Everyone knows Constance.” Annie smiled. “She’s like our den mother. Anything to do with Safe Harbor has to do with Constance.”

He nodded. Annie studied him, watched his cheeks flush a rich red. He turned away from her scrutiny to peer out the window. Why Constance, she wondered idly.

“You don’t happen to know where I’d find her this afternoon, do you?”

The words tumbled out in a rush, as if he were embarrassed to ask. There was something strange about him, almost furtive. As if he were hiding something. And yet, when she looked into his eyes, they seemed honest, clear. It was just that Russ Mitchard and this crazy day had confused everything.

“Constance?” She pretended to think. “Probably at the church. She’ll be checking the spring bulb collections in the flower beds. Constance has a thing about those bulbs. You might try there. First Peninsula Church.” She gave him directions.

The screech of brakes and a child’s yell cut off her explanation.

Drew!

Annie tore down the stairs, raced out the front door. What had the child done now?

“You could have gotten yourself killed! Me, too, if my reactions hadn’t been fast enough. You never run into the street after something. Didn’t your mother teach you anything?”

Him again!

Annie saw Drew’s little face crumple at the mention of his mother. He hunched over in the street and bawled.

Annie marched out the door, right up to Russ Mitchard and glared at him.

“Did your mother tell you to think before you speak?” she hissed, glaring at him with the frostiest look she could muster as all her protective instincts swam to the fore. At his blank look, she boiled.

“He hasn’t got a mother,” she told him in a half whisper of pure fury. “I told you that.” She ignored his groan of dismay to crouch beside Drew. “Come on, honey. Let’s get you inside. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“Somehow, Annie, I doubt that with you around things will ever be merely fine again.” Russ’s silvery eyes flashed with an inner fire.

Now what did that mean?

Russ brushed her out of the way, bent and scooped the boy into his arms. He carried him into the bed-and-breakfast.

“At least he’s not hurt. Are you?” He set Drew on a chair. Then his hands moved carefully over the small limbs, checking for fractures.

“I’m okay.” Drew dashed one hand across his eyes. “I’m sorry, Annie. I just wanted to see the cat. It was huge.” Drew’s tear-smudged face begged her to understand. “I’ve never seen a cat that big. She almost let me pet her!”

That cat. Again. Annie risked a look at Russ, watched him shrug, as if this, too, wasn’t his fault.

“I thought she was in her carrier?” she demanded softly.

“She was. But I had to let her out. She cries if I keep her in there. That’s why I let her out in here. I was afraid she’d start howling before I could explain.” He flushed. “I just didn’t get around to explaining before—”

“She cries. Uh-huh.” Annie rolled her eyes. What a line.

“Hey, mister? Is that big orange cat yours?” Drew blinked at Russ, hero worship glowing in his pale face.

“Yes. Her name is Marmalade. And your name is Drew. I didn’t recognize you at first, especially when you took off across the street like that.” Russ raked a hand through his black hair, ruining its perfection.

Did his fingers tremble just a little?

“You scared the daylights out of me, Drew.”

“I’m sorry.” The apology was perfunctory. “What are daylights?” He studied Russ for a minute before a new thought took precedence. “Hey! You’re staying here, right? Felicity told Billy’s mom a handsome man had moved in.”

Excitement lent Drew’s eyes a glossy chocolate sheen.

“So that means your cat will be staying here, too. All right!” He jumped up, twisted to face Annie. “I can play with her, can’t I? I never had a cat before. My mom—” He stopped, gulped hard but stoically continued, a sheen of fresh tears glossing his eyes. “Remember, Annie? Mom was allergic, so I couldn’t have any animals at our place.”

Russ cleared his throat. Annie ignored him. She was going to have to eat crow. She didn’t need him to rub it in.

Drew had lost everything. His little world had shifted, changed irrevocably when he’d lost his parents. She had a business to run, but was that a good enough reason to deny Drew the comfort of an overfed orange feline? No. She was all for anything that would make Drew’s life a little happier. Wasn’t that what parenting was all about?

“You can’t deny the kid a cat,” Russ whispered in her ear, satisfaction resonating through his rumbling voice. “Marmalade is here to stay.”

But you aren’t, she thought, twisting to look into his silvery eyes. You won’t be staying here long.

She’d known him only a short while, talked to him for less than an hour, but she knew a lot about Russ Mitchard. And somehow she just knew that settling down wasn’t in Russ’s long-term plans. She had a hunch from something Mr. Willoughby had once said that as soon as Russ had his business running smoothly, he’d be off searching for greener pastures. Wasn’t that what had worried his grandfather so much—the fear that R.J. was running away from life?

Still, as long as he was a guest at her bed-and-breakfast, she’d have to face him every day, be civil. Probably even explain repeatedly that there was no hope of him marrying her. The thought of that daily contact left her both wary and excited.

Why was that?

Annie was afraid she was going to find out.

Chapter Three

“She’s a big old girl, isn’t she?” Drew tenderly swiped his hand down the cat’s sleek back. “She purrs louder than a bullfrog.”

He laid his head on the floor beside the cat and closed his eyes, listening for the rumble of contentment.

“You’re my bestest friend, Marmalade.”

Russ had to look away or bawl. Drew reminded him so much of Adam, the Adam he remembered—before the accident, the one that had claimed his brother’s life. If only he’d taken his responsibility to Adam as seriously as Drew took his toward that cat.