Winning The Nanny's Heart. Shirley JumpЧитать онлайн книгу.
Just as she rang the bell, the front door opened and a curvy red-haired woman in a floral apron greeted her with a wide smile. “Why, hello! You must be Colton’s sister. He called me and told me you were on your way. I’m Della.” She put out her hand and shook with Katie. “Della Barlow. I own this bed-and-breakfast, and run it with my best friend, Mavis.”
It was a fast, breathless, friendly introduction that rushed over Katie like a wave. “Uh, hi. Yes, I’m Colton’s younger sister and he said he made a reservation for me?”
“He did indeed. Come right in.” Della waved her in, and waited a beat while Katie stood in the foyer, mouth agape, and took in the grand staircase that zippered up the middle of the house.
It was like walking into the pages of Gone with the Wind. The staircase curved in at the center, with white risers marrying the wood treads and a carved railing that formed a graceful swoop up to the second floor. On the main floor, a formal parlor sat to the left, with a pair of vanilla love seats sitting on either side of an upright piano. Long, satiny cream drapes framed the floor-to-ceiling windows and a small rolltop desk against the far wall. The dining room was on the right, dominated by a long mahogany table with a wide spray of bright pink and white flowers at its center. The coffered ceiling provided the perfect backdrop to an elaborate chandelier filled with teardrop crystals. Shades of whites, creams and soft pastels filled every room, as inviting as sinking into a cloud. Katie loved it immediately.
“Welcome to the Stone Gap Inn,” Della said, as she walked up the stairs with Katie right behind. “We just opened a few months ago, so we might still have a hiccup or two. The house was abandoned for years before Mavis and I bought it. It still had strong bones, though, being pre–Civil War, one of the few that survived those years. My husband and sons helped renovate it, along with some help from my wonderful soon-to-be daughter-in-law, who restores old houses. They all worked on it, top to bottom, but we kept as many period details as we could. Don’t worry, though, we made sure all the plumbing and electricity is modern, along with Wi-Fi and satellite TV in each of the rooms.”
Katie laughed. “It sounds perfect. In fact, it looks perfect. The house is stunning.”
“Thank you. We love it, and so far, our guests have, too. They’ve all been so grateful to have a place to stay, ever since the original hotel in town closed up. The owner retired, moved to Minnesota to be near his grandkids, but was gracious enough to send all his customers to us. He said a B and B fits Stone Gap better, and I might be biased, but I happen to agree.”
“I do, too,” Katie said. “This place seems perfect for a small seaside town.”
“Thank you. Mavis and I were looking for something to keep us busy in our golden years, and the way business has been going, we got our wish.” Della laughed. “Anyway, I put you in the Charlotte Room,” she said, opening a door as she spoke. “I hope you like it.”
If Katie could have dreamed up a perfect bedroom, this would have been it. Pale green, bright white and accents of butter yellow made the room feel like a garden. A canopy bed dominated the space, looking more like a cloud than a place to sleep. Piles of pillows cascaded down the center of a thick white comforter. A low bench sat at the foot of the bed, with a basket filled with fluffy towels and soaps and bath salts on one end, a tray with mini bottles of water and a bowl of fresh fruit on the other. A ceiling-high armoire sat between the windows, and a thick white terry-cloth robe hung inside, just begging someone to slip it on, curl up in the armchair in the corner and read one of the books piled in the small bookcase.
Katie gasped. “Wow. It’s gorgeous.”
“I’m so glad you like the room. I’ll give you some time to get settled. If you want to join me in the kitchen for some coffee and fresh-baked cookies, come on downstairs.” Della placed a room key in Katie’s palm. “Welcome to Stone Gap.”
Katie sank onto the bed after Della was gone, and thought yes, this was exactly what she needed. Maybe, just maybe, here in this town that seemed to wrap around her like a warm blanket, she could find a way to move forward again.
* * *
The scent of chocolate chip cookies drew Katie out of her nap and back downstairs an hour later. She’d slept better in that hour than she had in the last two months. It had to be the bed, or the total quiet that surrounded her, so unlike the constant hum of Atlanta.
In the kitchen, Della was at the stove, stirring something that smelled amazing. She turned when Katie entered the kitchen. “Coffee?”
“Do you have decaf?”
“I do indeed. Have a seat and—”
Katie waved off Della’s instructions. She felt useless just relaxing like this. “Please, let me help.”
“I’ll do no such thing. Bed-and-breakfast means you get a place to sleep and breakfast served to you. But an inn means you get all that and more.” Della grabbed a coffee mug and filled it with steaming brew. She placed it before Katie, along with cream and sugar in cute little cow-shaped containers. “Now, sit down and enjoy yourself. This is your vacation, dear.”
“Will you please sit with me?” Katie said. For some reason, she didn’t want to be alone. Maybe because when she was alone she tended to think, and that just brought everything back to the surface again. “Please.”
Della glanced at the stove, then at the small table’s empty chair. “I think I will. My feet are barking at me to take a few minutes to sit on my duff. Besides, that crab chowder is done enough to cook all by itself.” Della slipped out of the apron and hung it over the back of a chair, then poured herself a cup of coffee and added a splash of cream. “So, tell me, what brings you to Stone Gap?”
“Like you said, vacation. And...” Katie toyed with the mug. There was something friendly and open about Della Barlow that warmed the air between them and made Katie want to confide, a little, about all that was going on in her life. “And maybe find a job. I’m sort of between things and not sure where I want to go next. Colton raves about this town, and I thought I’d give it a couple weeks to see if it grows on me, too.”
“If you’re not careful, this town will wrap around your heart like ivy on an oak tree, pretty and strong. That’s what it did to me, more than thirty-five years ago, when I moved here with my Bobby. ’Course, it helped that the man himself was also wrapped around my heart.” Della smiled, clearly proud of her town and the man she’d married.
A man who had had an affair more than thirty years ago with Katie’s mother, an affair that had produced Colton. Katie had seen pictures of her mother from those years, before her drinking took its toll. Vanessa Williams had been beautiful, with long dark hair, deep green eyes and a wide smile. In the years since Colton and Katie had been born, she’d morphed into a sullen, resentful woman who considered both her children as unwanted burdens.
But Della Barlow—she was obviously the kind of mother everyone wished they could have. It was clear she loved her sons and her husband, despite the brief bump their marriage had hit more than three decades ago. Katie had no doubt staying here would be like coming home.
“So, Katie, what do you do?” Della asked. “Or, a better question, what do you want to do, since not all of us work at our first-love jobs when we’re young.”
It had been a long time since Katie had thought about her ideal career. She felt like she was in middle school again, lying on her bed and looking up at the cracks in the ceiling. When she was eleven, she’d imagined they were paths, creeping like a spider out in different directions. If she took this path, she’d end up there, by that missing chunk of plaster. That path, and she’d connect with that path and that one, and end up fading into the window frame. The world had seemed open and endless back then, filled with crazy ideas like becoming a veterinarian and an actress and a chef, all at the same time. “I... I don’t know. I’ve been an accountant for so long, I don’t know anything else.”
“Was that your dream, working with numbers?”
Katie scoffed. “No. I