Chapter 9

I walked away, back to the inn. Happy that he was happy. Happy was nice.

* * * *

Two hours later I received a call from Blaire Kinsell on my cell phone. I was near the pond, removing branches from the lawn. A recent storm played hell of the property and caused the trees to furiously blow left and right, dropping limbs to the ground. Excited, Blaire immediately burst, “I think we can find room on Romona Davis’s float for Cal and Angie Pipp.”