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He chose to ignore the freeloading barb she’d tossed into the conversation, seeing as he’d come to apologize.
A story from the Bible played across his mind, as they’d been doing so often lately since he’d started reading it again. It was the part in the New Testament when Jesus spoke at Mary and Martha’s house and Martha was too busy taking care of everyone to listen and became upset with Mary for sitting at the feet of Jesus instead of helping.
Did God want him to remind Maggie of that Bible story? It felt like it. But Kellen couldn’t be sure. He’d spent so many years ignoring when he felt God wanted him to do something to know for certain. He might be a grown man, but despite being raised in the church, he was still only a young Christian.
With the way he had acted this morning, he couldn’t blame her for being worried and upset after finding out he owned the place where she currently lived and worked—but he could end both of those emotions for her by being honest about the will.
He bent down to be eye level with her. “Martha, Martha. You are worried and upset about many things. Aren’t you?”
Maggie turned back to the flower bed. “Not that it probably matters to you, but my name isn’t Martha.”
“I know.”
She kept her eyes focused on the ground. “I’m surprised that you know the Bible at all, seeing as you were going to ditch Ida’s as quickly as an old newspaper.”
Kellen forced his shoulders to relax as he held back the response that came to his lips. “My dad is a minister.”
“Could have fooled me.”
It was going to take everything in him to apologize to Maggie without snapping back at her. Kellen took a deep breath and counted to ten before speaking. “You’re right. I wasn’t a good church kid growing up. I rejected everything my dad taught and lived life by my terms for a long time. God kept chasing me, though, and I’m His for good now. The funniest thing is, now my dad’s old sermons keep coming back to me at the oddest times.”
She yanked out another weed.
He moved a foot away and kneeled in the flower bed.
She watched him out of the corner of her eye. “You’ll ruin those fancy designer jeans.”
Kellen ran his fingers over the mulch. “I always wondered if Martha had just asked the people gathered to hear Jesus talk if they would help her, the chores could have all been done in a couple minutes and then she could have been sitting there at the Lord’s feet next to her sister.”
“Maybe she had no one to ask. Or maybe she knew it would be a waste of time to ask because no one would come to her rescue. Maybe Martha was all on her own and knew her sister wasn’t about to leave what she was doing to help.” She yanked out a weed with so much force it took out the flower next to it, as well. “Maybe, like me, she had no choice. What if she felt like she was drowning and losing what she cared about and she...?” Maggie shook her head. “So don’t talk to me about helping.”
Dare he challenge her? “Is it that you’re alone, or is it that you refuse to ask for help?”
“You don’t understand what I’m saying.” She shot him a glare and inched farther away. “I’m done talking to you.”
Kellen yanked out a weed.
Maggie rocked back onto her heels and let out a huff. “Just what are you doing?”
He shrugged. “Sharing the load.”
“I’d rather not be around you right now. I know this inn belongs to you and I’ll leave as soon as you say so, but for now I just want an evening to remember how beautiful it is and—”
Kellen sat down firmly and faced her. “Maggie, you need to chill for a second. I came here to tell you that I’m not going to— Ouch.” A small stabbing pain shot into the side of his neck. Then another. He swatted his neck, and his hand collided with a large bug. Another one buzzed near his ear. “Bees.”
No. Not again.
Maggie got to her feet. “Did they sting you?”
His throat was already closing up. A rush of blurry warmth flooded his brain. “Allergic.” He wheezed out the word. Why did it have to be his neck? Swelling there would make his breathing much harder than his normal reaction. The bees had chosen to inject their poison in the worst place possible.
Black dots painted across his vision. Kellen tried to stand, but he fell backward.
Maggie wrapped her arm around his shoulders and helped him stumble to a lounge chair.
“Do you only get a rash, or are you allergic-allergic? Is this a CPR type of thing? Because I took training once, but I’m not real confident. Do I need to call for an ambulance?” Her eyes were wide, searching his face.
Kellen fought to keep his eyes open, but the whole world was swirling. Maggie’s hair looked twice as big as normal. “EpiPen. My bathroom. Black bag. Quick.”
The last thing he saw was Maggie taking off across the yard.
If he died, what would happen to his girls?
Chapter Three
Shoving open the front door to the cottage, Maggie banged into a couch that had been moved to a new location. Ida used to have all the furniture lining the walls. But this wasn’t Ida’s home any longer, was it?
Maggie’s body shook with adrenaline as she sucked in a ragged breath.
Four sets of eyes landed on her. All of them held questions.
Mr. Rowe grabbed her arm to steady her. “Maggie. You don’t look so well.”
“Emergency. It’s medical. Call 9-1-1.”
“What’s wrong, dear?” Diane, Mr. Rowe’s wife, wrapped her arms around the two little girls.
Maggie’s thoughts piled up together like an accident on the expressway. How much information should she tell them? No time. She needed to help Kellen.
The bathroom. She had to find the black bag.
Used to stressful situations as a lawyer, Mr. Rowe already had his cell phone to his ear. “Yes. We need an ambulance. Someone is hurt.” He rattled off the address to the cottage as he walked out the front door.
Maggie pointed at Skylar. “Do you know where your dad keeps his EpiPen?”
Skylar gave one brave nod before taking off. She returned a second later and handed the injector to Maggie. “A bee sting?” Her voice wavered.
Maggie wanted to stop and hug her, but she knew Kellen needed the shot. And although she wasn’t well versed when it came to allergic reactions, she also knew time mattered. She prayed that Mrs. Rowe would be able to comfort the girls.
“My dad is hurt?” Ruthy dissolved into tears. “Is he gonna die?”
“I want to go with you.” Skylar trailed Maggie to the door. Her little hands fisted at her sides.
Maggie wasn’t about to let the little girl see her dad wheezing and in pain. Not at such a young age. If only someone had protected her from the pain of learning about her own father’s death all those years ago. And more recently, of seeing her mother suffering from illness for so long. Maggie shook those thoughts away.
Action. Right now she needed to stop thinking and act.
Grabbing Skylar’s shoulders, Maggie squeezed them once. “Your dad needs you to go back inside and pray for him. That’s the best thing you can do for him right now. Can you do that? Mrs. Rowe will help you, okay? I need to go give this to him.” She waved the EpiPen.
Without waiting to see if Skylar had obeyed, Maggie sprinted back across the lawn. Thankfully Mr. Rowe had left the gate propped open so she wouldn’t have to worry about messing with the rusted latch.
The lawyer was still on the phone with 9-1-1 when she got back to Kellen. Being a blond, Kellen had a pale complexion to begin with, but his skin looked sickly and ashen. His head was tipped to the side.
Maggie tapped his shoulders. “Can you hear me? Kellen. Please. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Unresponsive.
Mr. Rowe covered the mouthpiece to the cell phone. “Open up the pen. Hold it to his thigh and press the trigger. Count to ten and then massage the area for ten seconds, as well.” He turned back to his phone. “Yes. I’m still here. The victim has lost consciousness. I’ll be at the end of the drive to flag them to the right location. I initially gave the address to the next-door neighbor’s house.”
He took off toward the street.
Please, God. Calm my nerves. Let Kellen be all right.
Following Mr. Rowe’s instructions, she removed the cap and held the end to Kellen’s thigh. Hopefully the shot was strong enough to work through his jeans.
She took a deep breath and pressed the button.
“One. Two. Three. Four.” She licked her lips and looked back at Kellen’s face. Be okay. Please be okay. His daughters needed their daddy. They shouldn’t have to grow up having lost their dad in a tragic accident as Maggie had lost hers. No little girl should experience that pain. “Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.”
She put the cap back on, covering the shiny needle that now showed, and then tucked it under the lounge chair. Maggie watched Kellen’s face, hoping to see an instant change. She put her hand where she’d used the EpiPen and massaged the area as Mr. Rowe had instructed her to.
Seeing no immediate change in Kellen’s condition, she took the advice that she’d told Skylar only a minute ago. Pray. That was the best way to help him.
“Please, Lord, save him. Let him recover without any lingering problems.”
All the stress from the past few minutes rushed over her, making her blink back tears. She shouldn’t have argued with him...again. If she’d gone to the porch and talked as he had asked, they wouldn’t have been near the bees. Sure, he might have been about to tell her to skedaddle, but being kicked out wouldn’t be as bad as letting him get hurt. If she wouldn’t have been so stubborn—like always—none of this would have happened.
“Don’t let anything bad happen to Kellen.”
Kellen shifted on the chair. Maggie looked back at his face to see him watching her through a half-lidded gaze. Never in her life had she been so happy to see a man’s blue eyes. She leaned forward and grabbed his hand. “You’re okay? Thank You, God.”
He put his free hand over his swollen neck. Letting her know he couldn’t speak yet. He squeezed the hand she held twice. She imagined that meant thank you.
A cool spring breeze swept over them, and Kellen shivered. From the cold, from shock or the medication coursing through his body, she didn’t know.
“I’ll go get a blanket.” She started to get up.
But Kellen tightened his hold of her hand and shook his head.
Maggie sat down on an open area of the lounge chair and stared at the flower beds surrounding the West Oaks Inn. Usually the sight of the happy flowers bobbing in the wind made her smile. But at the moment she wanted to pull them all up by the roots. Keep the bees away from Kellen for good. She’d have to warn him about the local beekeeper who lived a few blocks away. Kellen should avoid that part of town. And start carrying his EpiPen.
He shivered again, so Maggie cupped his hand in both of hers, hoping that comforted him.
Reflections from the emergency lights on the ambulance bounced off the mansion’s windows. A team of EMTs raced forward with a stretcher. Maggie caught sight of the dark-haired Joel Palermo, the newest member of the Goose Harbor Fire Department, as he strode toward them purposefully.
While the other men lifted Kellen onto the stretcher, Joel turned his attention toward Maggie. “Can you run through what happened?”
She gave him a play-by-play of the bee sting and estimated how many minutes between the stings and the EpiPen injection. “I hope I did it right.”
Joel smiled. “You must have, since he came to. Great work, Mags. We’ll take it from here, but this man has you to thank for saving his life.”
And for putting it at risk.
He shouldn’t have been weeding. By flowers. In spring. When bees were always out.
The EMTs maneuvered the stretcher into the ambulance.
Joel reached out to help Maggie climb into the back. “Are you coming with us?”
Suddenly very self-conscious, Maggie bit her lip. “Perhaps there’s someone closer to him who should go.”
Mr. Rowe pressed his hand into the small of Maggie’s back and propelled her forward. “Kellen doesn’t have a wife. It’s just him and the girls. Me and Diane will watch Skylar and Ruthy for as long as he needs. You go on with Kellen to the hospital. Call me when you need to be picked up.” He ushered her right to Joel’s outstretched arm.
Before Maggie could decide if accompanying Kellen was a good idea or not, the men in the ambulance closed the back door and turned on the sirens.
Joel pointed to a metal ledge near the stretcher. “Go ahead and have a seat. Hold his hand for me. It helps calm them down.”
Maggie grabbed hold of Kellen’s hand again. She looked back up at his face. Through the oxygen mask he offered her a small smile before closing his eyes again.
* * *
Maggie glanced through the blinds on the kitchen window for the tenth time, trying to see if Kellen had made it back home.
Her inn guests had raved about breakfast, but after getting back to the inn at one in the morning, she lacked the energy she usually saved for visiting with the tourists. They’d borrowed some of the bicycles she kept stocked in the garage and had headed into town for the day.
The mess in the kitchen was bigger than normal, but it could wait until later. Intent on taking a nap, she made her way back to her bedroom. Maggie dropped onto the bed and flung her hand to the side. It hit a lump under the cover. She moved back the sheets. Ida’s Bible. She trailed her fingers over the soft, worn leather cover.
Honestly a nap wasn’t going to happen. Every time she attempted to take one, it never came to fruition. She’d just lie there and think of fifty things she could be spending her time accomplishing. Relaxing always made her feel guilty—as if she should be doing something better with her time. If she did fall asleep, she always woke up grumpy. Those scientists who touted the benefits of a midday nap missed interviewing her.
Gathering the Bible under her arm, Maggie headed out to the back porch. As doubts and fears swirled in her heart, she would have loved speaking with Ida today, but reading the old woman’s notes in the margin of her Bible would be just as good.
Besides, Maggie probably needed to read scripture more than she needed to talk to her friend. It had been a while since she cracked the spine on her Bible. The problem was, more often than not anymore, doing so proved pointless. God’s promises weren’t for her. If they had been, her life would have been different.
She opened the cover and realized she had the book upside down. About to flip it back around, Maggie stopped when she saw a list of names. Hers was there, and scribbled next to it with an addition sign was Kellen’s. The top of the list read Pray For Daily.
Maggie dabbed her eyes. She’d known that Ida loved her but hadn’t known the woman had devoted time to praying for her every day. Had Maggie ever done that for another person? Sadly the answer was no.
She ran her finger down the list. Names had been added to the bottom later in a different ink—including Maggie’s friend Paige. Maggie pressed her fingers over her smile, remembering Paige’s first few days in Goose Harbor and how Ida had literally latched on to the new schoolteacher. Ida always said she knew when someone was ready to fall in love, and that had proved true with Paige and Caleb. Ida all but shoved those two together and now they were happily married.
Too bad Ida never found a Prince Charming type for Maggie. If only.
Maggie went back to her name. Odd how it shared a number with Kellen when there had definitely been more room to add one of their names to its own line. Next to their names Ida had scribbled two verses. Zechariah 1:3 and Romans 5:5. Beside the Romans reference in tiny letters it said: I will never stop hoping.
Maggie found the table of contents to see what page in the Bible the book of Zechariah started on. She flipped to it and read Zechariah 1:3—Therefore tell the people: This is what the Lord Almighty says: “Return to me,” declares the Lord Almighty, “and I will return to you,” says the Lord Almighty.
Was it possible that Ida worried that Maggie had fallen away from her faith in the Lord? The passage made Maggie feel that way. Had Maggie turned from God? Maybe a little. Was it possible to do something like that “only a little”? It seemed like an all-or-nothing sort of thing.
Maggie let her gaze lift up and rest on the small river that ran behind the West Oaks Inn and continued on past Kellen’s property. The backyard neighbor had a small working water mill that slapped against the water day and night. The sound always comforted Maggie—it was constant, but somehow she tuned it out most of the time. Or had just grown used to it.
Had God become like that mill in her life? There, but ignored? Was He making noise—trying to get her attention day in and day out with her ignoring Him? She’d never considered that. Sure, she was still frustrated about her lot in life. In her thirties without much to her name, no prospect of marriage, no family and about to lose the only home she’d ever known—the legacy of the West family.
Who wouldn’t feel defeated and abandoned after that?
But, as usual, her situation didn’t change the truth. God was God, and He got to decide if she lived a good life or not. She had to find her grit and keep moving forward. As she always did. Maybe He would have been easier on her if her heart wasn’t so prone to wandering and she wasn’t always getting distracted. There had to be something she was doing wrong. If not, her life would be different—He’d be blessing her, right? That was what they always said in church.
“God. Forgive me,” Maggie whispered. “I didn’t realize it, but I have been closed off to You. If I’m being honest, I’ve been mad that You’ve taken so many people that I loved from this earth. But maybe I should think of it as You had surrounded me with so many wonderful people—people You wanted to graduate to heaven quickly because they all loved You so much.”
A peace washed through her. Something she couldn’t quite explain. It was like drinking ice water on a one-hundred-degree day. Maggie closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling before opening them again and flipping to the book of Romans in the Bible.
She found Romans 5:5 right away—And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.
Ida had written that she would never stop hoping. It clearly applied to both her and Kellen. Hoping that they’d return to the Lord? Hoping they’d realize God loved them? That Ida loved them?
Maggie would never know.
Ida was gone and she couldn’t ask her. But she knew one thing—Ida loved her and Ida loved Kellen. A woman didn’t put the name of someone on a list in her Bible and choose to pray for them daily unless she loved that person. If Maggie wanted to protect the belongings that were special to Ida, how much more important must Kellen be to the woman Maggie had looked up to? If the teacups mattered, Kellen mattered even more.
“Miss Maggie?” A small voice interrupted her thoughts.
Skylar and Ruthy stood at the bottom of her steps with Mrs. Rowe not far behind.
Maggie closed the Bible and set it on the bench next to her. “Hi, girls. To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing your beautiful faces?”
Mrs. Rowe nodded to them.
Skylar took Ruthy’s hand and helped her up the steps. Ruthy shoved a bouquet of wildflowers and dandelions toward Maggie.
Skylar smiled. “We came to thank you for saving Daddy’s life.”
Ruthy nodded solemnly. “I love him.”
Maggie leaned forward and accepted the flowers. “I’m glad I could help. How’s your dad doing?”
Ruthy finally offered a smile as she whispered, “He’s singing.”
Skylar patted Maggie’s knee. “That means he’s really good. Daddy likes to sing. It’s his favorite thing in the world.”
“I’m so glad to hear that. Do you girls want to come inside and help me find a vase?”
Skylar was at the door before Maggie got up from her seat. “You always smell like cinnamon.”
“Thanks.” Maggie grimaced at Mrs. Rowe. “I think.”
Mrs. Rowe yawned. She wore the same outfit she had on yesterday, meaning she had yet to be back home since the bee-sting incident and probably needed a break.
Maggie offered her hand to Ruthy, who shyly took it. “Diane, you can head home. Let Kellen know I have the girls entertained here and he can give a call whenever he feels up to having them come back home. They’re welcome here all day if he’d like to rest. Let him know that, okay?”
Diane Rowe mouthed Thank you and headed back toward the cottage.
Maggie continued into the kitchen and helped both the girls into aprons, folding the fabric over and tying the waist part under their armpits just like the way her mother used to do with her. “Who wants to help me make some brownies?”
“I do!”
“Me!”
“Know what, Miss Maggie?”
Maggie smiled down at Skylar, smoothing her hand over the girl’s hair. “What, sweetheart?”
“We picked the kittens we’re going to keep. A black one and an orange one.”
“The black one had white paws!” Ruthy chimed in.
Skylar nodded. “We’re naming them Pete and Repeat. Isn’t that silly?”
Maggie laughed along with them and promised to visit the kitties soon. “Now, let’s have some fun.” Maggie handed out spoons and cranked the volume on the local Christian radio station to high. Both girls started singing along. Their smiles were infectious.
If Maggie was going to get kicked out of the inn by their father anyway, she could still make a few fun memories with the two sweet little girls. Her eviction wasn’t their fault. All they knew was that their daddy could have died last night. Maggie would do whatever she could to erase the memory of their fear. Brownies were a good start.
* * *
Kellen winced on the way over to the inn.
He’d forgotten how sore an EpiPen shot could make his leg. The bruise it left was nothing short of impressive. Besides the soreness, he felt fine, though, so he needed to continue with getting things in order before Skylar started school on Monday. Mrs. Rowe had offered to watch Ruthy during the workday for the next month until he was settled and could decide if she’d stay around the inn with Kellen during the day or if he’d sign her up for formal day care.
First on the list, he needed to assess the business at the West Oaks Inn. Kellen didn’t want to. Not after Maggie had been so great last night. She’d stayed with him at the hospital. Refilled his water jug whenever it got down to the halfway mark and gone on a mission to find him trail mix from a vending machine located on a different level of the hospital. She’d seemed to thrive off of taking care of someone.
Or she was doing her best to get on his good side now that she knew he owned the mansion.
He almost wished he hadn’t told her. It would have been useful to study her a little longer and be able to decide if she was out to get something from his aunt or if she was what she appeared to be—a caring and passionate person who enjoyed serving others.
Kellen would probably never get to know the honest answer now. What did it matter? His track record at assessing people’s characters wasn’t all that great to begin with. Why start trying now?
He couldn’t put off seeing the ledgers and making choices concerning the inn any longer. He had to plan the best moves to provide for his family. If the inn was working in an efficient manner as he hoped, he could leave it be.
If her reaction to him gutting Ida’s home was any indication, change and Maggie didn’t go well together. He hoped the bed-and-breakfast worked like a well-oiled machine. If not, he’d have to make some changes whether or not Maggie West approved.
Back when his friend had offered him the restaurant-manager position at Casa Bonita as a favor, Kellen didn’t know how he would handle the pressure of such a different job. Lead guitar and singer of a rock band versus managing a five-star restaurant—talk about different worlds. But then, it hadn’t been such a stretch in retrospect. Long hours. Late nights. Lots of time on his feet.