For Now and Forever (The Inn at Sunset Harbor-Book 1)

CHAPTER FIVE

After a night of deep, dream-filled sleep, Emily woke to the sensation of warmth on her skin. It was so unfamiliar to her now to not feel cold that she sat bolt upright, suddenly alert, and discovered a shard of bright sunlight streaming in through a gap in the curtains. She shielded her eyes as she pulled herself out of bed and went over to the window. Drawing back the curtain, Emily reveled in the sight that opened up before her. The sun was out, reflecting brilliantly off the snow, which was melting fast. On the branches of the trees beside her window, Emily saw water droplets trickling down from the icicles, the sunlight turning them into drops of rainbows. The sight made her breath catch. She had never seen anything so beautiful.

The snow had melted enough for Emily to decide it was possible to now venture into town. She was so hungry, as though Daniel's soup delivery the day before had reawakened the appetite she'd lost after the drama of breaking up with Ben and quitting her job. She dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, then put her suit jacket over the top because it was the only thing she had that even semi resembled a coat. She looked a little strange in the ensemble, but figured most people would be staring at the stranger with the beat-up car squatting in front of the abandoned house anyway, so her outfit was the least of her concerns.

Emily trotted down the steps into the hallway, then opened the front door to the world. Warmth kissed her skin and she smiled to herself, feeling a surge of happiness.

She followed the trench that Daniel had dug along the pathway and followed the road toward the ocean where she remembered the shops to be.

As she strolled along, it felt a little bit like she was walking back in time. The place was completely unchanged, the same stores that had been there twenty years previously still standing proud. The butcher shop, the bakery, it was all as she remembered. Time had changed them, but only in small ways—the signage was more garish, for example, and the products inside had modernized—but the feel was the same. She reveled in the quaintness of it all.

Emily was so wrapped up in the moment she didn't notice the patch of ice on the sidewalk ahead of her. She slipped in it and went sprawling on the ground.

Winded, Emily lay on her back and groaned. A face appeared above her, old and kindly.

"Would you like a hand up?" the gentleman said, extending his hand to her.

"Thanks," Emily replied, taking him up on his kind offer.

He pulled her back onto her feet. "Are you hurt?"

Emily cricked her neck. She was sore, but whether that was from falling off the sideboard in the pantry yesterday or slipping in the ice today it was impossible to tell. She wished she wasn't such a klutz.

"I'm fine," she replied.

The man nodded. "Now, let me get this right. You're the one staying up in the old house on West Street, aren't you?"

Emily felt embarrassment creep into her. It made her uncomfortable to be the center of attention, the source of small-town gossip. "Yes, that's right."

"Did you buy the house off of Roy Mitchell then?" he said.

Emily stopped short at the sound of her father's name. That the man standing before her knew him made her heart lurch with a strange sensation of grief and hope. She hesitated a moment, trying to collect her bearings, to piece herself back together.

"No, I, um, I'm his daughter," she finally stammered.

The man's eyes widened. "Then you must be Emily Jane," he said.

Emily Jane. The name was jarring to her. She hadn't been called that for years. It was her father's pet name for her, another thing that vacated her life suddenly on the day Charlotte passed away.