The Promise of Palm Grove (10 page)

O
ut of all the places I've thought of taking you, the last place I considered was the Selby County Library,” Beverly told Jean and Ida as they walked along the tree-lined sidewalks of downtown Sarasota toward the large library. “Do you two really need new books?”

“Of course I do,” Ida said. “It's a long bus ride down here to Pinecraft, you know.”

Actually, Beverly didn't know. When she'd made the decision to move to Pinecraft, she'd asked some of her Mennonite friends if they'd let her ride in the car with them. Then, after she'd gotten settled, the moving company had moved her things down.

“It is a long drive,” she said. “And I suppose it is a good walk to Selby.”

“Do you come here often?”

Beverly shook her head. “Not really. I never have much time to read anymore.” Because she was now Mennonite, she was able to have an e-reader, which she was finding so handy.
Now she could get a good deal on brand-new books. “I should come here more often. This is a wonderful library.”

“Best in the whole state,” Jean said. “It won an award, you know.”

This was news to her. “Really?”

“Oh, for sure and for certain! You should learn more about your new home, Beverly,” Jean chided.

“You're right, I should.” Actually, Jean was very right. When Beverly had first moved to Sarasota, she'd been so hurt and dismayed, she'd hardly done much but try to get through each day. Then, slowly, she'd gotten acclimated to the slower pace and easy atmosphere of Pinecraft.

After Aunt Patty had passed away and Beverly had taken over the inn, work had consumed her. Each day revolved around her inn's guests and their whims and needs. Only late at night, when her to-do list was done and she was so tired she could hardly stand up, did she think about herself.

But unfortunately, by that time of night, she stuck to the basics: trying to remember if she'd showered, eaten; if she needed to press a dress or buy a new pair of sandals. Only now did she feel like she was ready to stop sticking her head in the sand.

“Now that I feel like I have everything in control at the inn, I'm sure I'll get out and about more,” she promised.

Ida and Jean exchanged glances.

“What are you two smiling about?” Beverly asked.

“Nothing, dear. It's simply that you're never going to be completely in control. The Lord is.”

“I know that.” And she kind of did. But privately, sometimes she kind of didn't. After all, why would the Almighty encourage Marvin and Regina to see each other when Beverly
had been ready to commit herself to him for life? That hardly seemed fair.

“I hope so,” Ida said. “Now that we're here, we'll make sure you get out and about every day.”

“That will be nice, but please, don't forget that the inn is my job. I have to cook and clean and keep everything running smoothly, you know. If I don't do these things, they won't get done.”

Ida brushed off Beverly's comment with a careless wave of her hand. “Don't you worry about that none. We can help you cook and clean.”

It seemed they had an answer for everything. “I couldn't let you do that.”

“
Gut,
because we weren't going to ask, we were just going to tell you what we'd done after the fact,” Jean said.

“You two never change.”

“I surely hope not,” Jean teased. “I kind of always liked the way I was.”

Beverly chuckled as they entered the large library through the wide glass double doors. She smiled as Jean and Ida stood in the large area and gaped. The main entrance boasted a beautiful archway aquarium that led into a large, expansive rotunda.

Immediately, the two ladies looked like children in a candy store.

“Oh, heavens,” Jean said. “This is a wonderful place.”

“And so big,” Ida murmured. “How about we meet you back here in an hour?”

“An hour?” She'd been hoping she could be back at the inn within the hour.

Jean frowned. “Oh, I bet you want to look around as well. Is an hour enough time?”

“One hour is plenty of time for me,” Beverly answered quickly. Looking at the circulating desk, she remembered she'd wanted to sign up for a library card anyway. “Meet me at the desk and we'll check out your books.”

“Right.” Ida nodded, then walked over to a sign indicating new fiction.

Feeling at a bit of a loss at the unexpected free time, Beverly waited in line, showed her identification card and proof of address, and got a library card.

Then she wandered over to the mysteries and, giving into temptation, decided to find a book or two to read. As she started walking along the stacks, glancing at the titles, she felt her body immediately relax.

This was probably what she needed to be doing as often as possible. Taking time for herself. Taking time to relax. Her favorite verse from Psalm 46 rang in her mind:
Be still and know that I am God.
Perhaps it was time to be still for a bit and let the Lord take care of the rest.

And as she pulled out two Anne Perry books, realizing with a bit of dismay that she hadn't been keeping up with Anne's latest releases, she skimmed the back of one of the books as she walked to a chair . . .

And promptly ran into a very tall man holding a very large stack of books. “Whoa,” he muttered, just as he reached out to clasp her arms.

Which, of course, was the wrong thing for him to do, because the books fell like a waterfall onto the floor, toppling onto her toes and scattering like a spray of water.

“Oh!” Beverly cried. “Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry.” Kneeling down, she attempted to pick up the books as quickly as possible.

The man knelt down, too. Then, there they were, picking up too many books, too close together. She lifted her chin and met his gaze, then blinked because he had really dark brown eyes that somehow managed to look warm and assessing at the same time.

“I really am sorry,” she said. “I wasn't watching where I was going.”

“Nothing to be too concerned about. It's just books that fell, not hot coffee.” His black golf shirt strained along the muscles in his chest and shoulders as he reached for the last of his books.

As he got up, she got to her feet, too, thinking that he really was tall. Why he had to be over six feet!

Then, she of course had to bend back down to grab her purse and those two mysteries that had caused all the trouble in the first place. Feeling that he'd been exactly right, that she was on the verge of making a big deal about nothing, she smiled at him sheepishly. “Sorry,” she said. Again. Obviously, it was time to go sit in a corner and hide out until Ida and Jean were ready.

Luckily, there weren't any other people in the immediate vicinity.

“Well, um, enjoy your day.”

The corners of his lips curved up, revealing perfect teeth, which just happened to go with his perfect jawline, perfectly trimmed dark hair, and unusually expressive eyes. “I will. Thanks. You, too.”

She'd just taken a step away—thinking few men could pull off a pair of khakis and a golf shirt and flip-flops like he could—when he said, “Hey, do you live here in Sarasota?”

“I do. Are you visiting from out of town?”

“Yeah, but I'm actually thinking about moving to Sarasota. Do you like it here?”

With relief, she donned her cool and professional inn demeanor. She could talk about the beauty of her adopted city all day long. “Very much so.”

“Are you a native?”

“Not at all. I'm from Ohio. I moved here three years ago.”

“And you haven't ever been tempted to leave?”

“Never. What about you? Where are you from?”

“Pennsylvania. Near Philly.”

“Ah.”

“I've been exploring the area for days. But when the manager of my motel suggested I come here for more information, I became hooked on this place. It's one of the nicest libraries I've ever been in.”

“Yes. Well, um, it's won an award, you know.”

“I bet it's won a ton of them. Hey, any chance you have a minute to talk?”

“I do.” Then afraid she sounded way too eager, she sputtered, “I mean, I have a couple of minutes. I'm here with two ladies, but they're going to be awhile longer.”

“Great.”

Suddenly, she couldn't help but agree. Yes, it was great that Ida and Jean were taking their own sweet time.

It wasn't so great that she seemed to be tripping over her words and acting like she was standing in the lunch line next to the cutest boy ever. “I'll be happy to answer any of your questions.” She pointed to a pair of comfortable-looking leather chairs. “Want to sit down?”

“Yeah. I do.”

As they walked, he looked over at her, seeming to notice
her dress and the small lace covering on her head. “Are you Mennonite?”

“Yes. Are you?” He wasn't wearing especially conservative clothes, but some branches of the Mennonite church were rather progressive.

He shook his head. “No, though I grew up in a fairly conservative church.”

“I grew up Amish.” With a shrug, she said, “When I moved here, I decided to not be baptized in the faith.”

“We each have to follow the Lord's will in our own way,” he murmured.

She liked that. Liked how he phrased his statement. And really liked that he wasn't being judgmental. Smiling, she sat down and set her things to one side, then leaned forward. “So, what are you interested in? Have you been to Pinecraft?”

“I've been to the Der Dutchman Restaurant. Does that count?”

“It counts. Have you been to Pinecraft Park yet?”

“
Nee
.” Pointing to the books on the ground, he said, “I've been getting a bit of information about the lay of the land. I'm going to be running a local bed-and-breakfast.”

“I guess we were meant to meet,” she said with a laugh. “I own a B and B.”

He shook his head. “That's crazy. Talk about it being a small world! Hey, by the way, I'm Eric Wagler.”

“I'm Beverly Overholt.”

“Pretty name.”

“
Danke
.” She shrugged. “Is this B and B you're gonna be working at already running?”

“It is. Maybe you know of it? It's called the Orange Blossom Inn.”

She blinked. “Are you sure that's the name of it?”

“I'm positive. Why?”

“That's the name of my inn.”

“Wow, that is strange.” He opened up a plastic folder that was secured with a rubber band and fished through some papers. “Yes, my lawyer said it was called the Orange Blossom Inn. On Gardenia Street.”

“That is absolutely my inn.” Feeling that he was playing some awful, terrible game with her, she glared. “So, what are you talking about, saying that you're going to be running it?”

“I had a neighbor, John Eicher, for almost twenty years. When he passed away, his lawyer contacted me. It seems John had been leasing it to his ex-wife for decades.” With a shrug, he said, “I guess she passed on a couple of years ago.”

“My aunt, Patty Eicher, passed away to heaven two years ago. Why did no one do anything about it then?”

Eric shrugged. “From what I understand, John didn't have much communication with his ex-wife. A full year went by before he'd heard she'd passed away.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

Eric's whole posture changed, becoming more assertive. “Maybe you should try a little harder, then, because it's the truth. From what I understand, part of the problem was that someone took over the lease right away, so nobody in Pennsylvania realized Patty was gone.”

“That someone was me.”

“Well, you should have taken care to tell the mortgage company you wrote the checks to that Patty Eicher had passed away. By the time John discovered Patty had passed away, he was in poor health. Four months ago he died. And because he never had children, he left the inn to me in his will.”

Beverly shook her head. She felt sorry for John and for Eric's wishes, too, but his loss wasn't her problem. This was her livelihood they were talking about. “I made no attempt to be sneaky, Eric. When my Aunt Patty got sick, she told me that she wanted me to continue running the inn.”

He folded his hands over his chest. “She should have also told you that the Orange Blossom Inn was part of her divorce settlement. John kept the rent low so she'd always be able to afford to run it. Supposedly, she really loved it here in Sarasota.”

“She did. And she really loved the inn, too.” Beverly didn't even try to hide her frustration and the pain in her voice. She'd just received a huge shock, and if what this Eric said was true, then she was about to lose everything that was important.

All over again.

“I thought the Orange Blossom Inn was mine,” she murmured.

“Then I guess we've got a problem, Beverly.” His voice didn't sound so harsh, but there was no doubt that he meant every word.

“I guess we do.” She knew there were a hundred things she should be asking Eric, a hundred things she should clarify, starting with why he hadn't stopped by the inn yet. But at the moment, all she knew was that she needed to put some space between them. Her throat was tight and she was starting to fear that she might start crying.

Standing up, she grabbed her books and hugged them to her chest. “Excuse me, I must be going.”

“Right this minute? Beverly, wait. We need to talk about how to handle this.”

“I know we do. But not right now.”

“If not now, when?”

“I have no idea. I need to look at Patty's paperwork.” That was, if she could still find it. “I need to call my lawyer, too.”

He nodded. “How about I stop by tomorrow, then?”

So he could look at his new home. “
Nee
. That's too soon.”

He looked at her steadily before replying. “I'll give you another day, but that's it. The whole reason I'm here is to see my inheritance.”