LITMIR.BIZ

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in the air. It mingled well with the sourdough bread turning gold in the oven.

      Guests didn’t go hungry while staying at the West Oaks Inn. Maggie made sure of that. She’d enjoyed her day off yesterday but sprung into action to make meals for today’s guests.

      The mess could be taken care of later. However, Kellen needed to be dealt with now. “Ida’s nephew moved in next door.”

      “Is he cute?”

      “Yes.” She pressed the tips of her fingers over her mouth.

      Why had that come out so quickly?

      Maggie felt heat on her cheeks that had nothing to do with the bread baking in the oven. But what else could she say? Kellen Ashby had the type of blond, mussed hair that looked as if he rolled out of bed that way but probably took him an hour of styling to accomplish. His strong jaw brought ample attention to perfectly shaped lips. When he talked, she’d fought the desire to watch his lips move—there was an art in the way he spoke and a melodic tone to his voice that had made her want to linger in their conversation. He struck her as the type of guy who popped up the collar on his coat even when it wasn’t cold out.

      Basically not her type. At all.

      He couldn’t even play a convincing Prince Charming in a B-rated movie. Well, in the looks department he could—but as yesterday’s ogre act about Ida’s appliances showed, the personality similarities were nonexistent.

      Paige growled on the other end of the line. “You can’t just say yes and be done with it. Describe him.”

      “He has two little girls.” She glanced around the curtain again. “I haven’t spotted a woman yet, though, so I don’t think there’s a wife. But who knows? Maybe she’s arriving later.” Better to assume he had a significant other and be proven wrong. “So let’s just say he’s attractive and once again another taken man in Goose Harbor.”

      “Well, if you didn’t call me to dish about the new guy and get dating advice, then what did you need?”

      “I think he’s getting rid of all of Ida’s things.” Maggie all but pressed her nose to the window to get a better look. Ida’s prized oven was out on the lawn. After Maggie told him how important it was. Did the man have no heart?

      “And that’s a problem?”

      “Paige, I don’t think you get it.” Maggie gripped the counter. “Those are Ida’s things.”

      “Technically, if he inherited the house, then those are now his things.”

      “No. They’re Ida’s. They’ll always be hers.” Maggie picked up a small porcelain rooster that had belonged to her mother. The painted feathers caught sunlight as she twisted the figurine around and around. “Shouldn’t he care about what was important to her?”

      “Maybe you should ask him about it.”

      “I can’t just walk over... Wait.”

      Kellen stalked down to the end of the driveway and stuck a garage-sale sign in the ground.

      “Oh no. No. No.”

      “What, Maggie? You’re starting to get me worked up. It’s like talking to you as you watch a horror movie.”

      “You might as well be.” It was one thing to think he was moving stuff outside to take stock or to part with a few of Ida’s belongings. But it was a whole different matter if he planned to sell all of Ida’s precious treasures. “I have to let you go. That man is about to get a piece of my mind.”

      “Hey, Mags—one thing.”

      Maggie patted her shirt, and a cloud of flour puffed into the air. “What?”

      “Well, please say you won’t be mad.”

      “Fine.” She tucked her shirt in. No time to change. Besides, arguing with Kellen didn’t require a wardrobe update. “Just tell me quick, because I need to get over there.”

      Paige took a deep breath. “I want you to keep in mind that Ida chose him—not you—to hand her belongings to. Remember that when you speak to him. Ida was a smart woman. I’m sure she had her reasons.”

      Paige didn’t get it. How could she? Paige grew up in a wealthy family, still had both her parents and ended up married to an amazing man. Maggie would know. Paige’s new husband, Caleb Beck, used to be Maggie’s brother-in-law. Sure, Paige had experienced some hurt in life. But one broken engagement couldn’t compare to losing a loved one to death. And Maggie had experienced the loss of four so far.

      Ida had cared about those things Kellen was chucking into the Dumpster. So should he.

      “Talk to you later.” Maggie hung up.

      Slipping on an old pair of loafers, Maggie flung open the back door and stormed into Ida’s yard. Her heart pounded harder with every step. Kellen had set more of Ida’s belongings in the yard than she’d been able to see from her vantage point in the inn. Side tables. Old frames with family pictures still inside. Mismatched teacups lined the edge of one table.

      Maggie snatched up a cream-colored teacup with hand-painted leaves around the gold rim. They looked as if they were blowing in the wind—always in motion. The cup was beautiful. Ida had scoured countless resale shops and country fairs in order to find the best cups for her collection. She never settled for second-rate or mass-produced china.

      Kellen appeared next to her elbow. “I haven’t put prices on anything yet, so just make an offer on whatever you see that you like and let me know.”

      She spun around and was almost nose to nose with him. He had no right to smell so good. Against her better judgment she took a deep breath—fresh lemon with a slight mossy scent. Whatever cologne he wore she wanted to spritz it in her room before she climbed into her reading chair with a good book. It made her feel cozy in the same way she wanted to open her windows after a good rainstorm just to enjoy the air.

       Who puts cologne on to work a garage sale?

       An overmanicured man. That’s who.

      Exactly the type she didn’t like to be around.

      Maggie took a step back, making space. “How can you do this to Ida?”

      He tilted his head. “I’m not doing anything to Ida. How can I?”

      “By selling all of her stuff. You’re hurting her memory.” Maggie gestured to wave her hand over all the possessions scattered on the lawn. “You’re basically saying you didn’t care about Ida at all.”

      Kellen shrugged. “For starters, I didn’t really know Ida. It’s hard to care about someone you hardly knew.”

      “But that’s just it. You can know her. See?” Maggie shoved the delicate china cup into his hand. “She loved drinking her daily tea from these mismatched cups. She had a different mug she used each day of the week and special ones for her friends. The one you’re holding she used on Saturdays. It was precious to her. It should be to you, too.”

      He turned the cup around and around in his hand. “I guess it’s interesting—if you can call a mug that.” Kellen set it back in a box with the rest of Ida’s china. “But I don’t drink tea and it wouldn’t hold enough coffee for my taste. My preference leans toward huge, ugly travel mugs. Anyway, I have no use for her china, so it can be sold.”

      Maggie picked the mug back up. “This cup has life because Ida loved it. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

      Kellen’s face fell—as though he was suddenly disappointed or tired. “Things are just that—material possessions. That cup holds no more life than a mailbox. If I’ve learned one thing, it’s that we should be more concerned with the time we have with the people we love than with objects that can be lost or broken or taken away at any minute. In the end, accumulating stuff doesn’t matter. At least it shouldn’t.”

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