Pushing those memories to the back of her mind, she opened the door to get out of the car. Even with the For Sale sign posted near the street, it was hard to tell the inn was vacant. It had that open-for-business look. Vashti glanced at the huge wooden front door, expecting it to swing open and for her aunt to step out, directly into the sunlight with a huge smile on her face and a welcoming glint in her eyes. But she knew that wouldn’t happen. Shelby Riggs was no longer here.
She glanced down at the ground a moment, feeling her aunt’s absence more deeply now than when she’d gotten the call from her parents that her aunt had died. It had been a shock since Vashti had just spoken with her the night before. It was their usual routine to talk to each other every Saturday night and the topics of conversation were to be anything other than the cove. That was why Vashti hadn’t known about the town’s new sheriff or that Kaegan had returned home. So they discussed other things like fashion, her work, the inn, movies and when they would take their next trip together.
Vashti missed those calls. Now more than ever she appreciated the times she and her aunt had managed to spend together over the years. It was sad that she and her mother had never developed that same closeness. It was as if after getting pregnant her mother couldn’t stand being around her at times. She knew she had let her parents down, had caused them embarrassment in town, but she hadn’t expected them to blame her for everything. Her father had wanted the name of the boy who had gotten her pregnant, and when she’d refused to give it to him all hell had broken loose in the Alcindor household. That’s when they began making plans for her, although she hadn’t agreed with any of them. Nothing she said would change their minds. Even Aunt Shelby tried reasoning with them and offered to take care of the baby while she finished school. But her parents didn’t want to hear anything. She had agreed to go to the unwed home, but she never signed any papers to give her child up for adoption. Her baby had been born a few weeks early and due to complications at birth, her son hadn’t lived.
Lifting her head up, Vashti looked into the sky as the sound of the gulf filled her ears. The sky was a beautiful blue and the few clouds she could see appeared a snowy white. A part of her believed at that moment her aunt was looking down at her smiling. Or was she? Did Aunt Shelby have anything to smile about knowing Vashti had decided to let someone destroy the home that had meant so much to her?
Vashti bristled at the thought, reminding herself that at no time had her aunt asked her to not sell the place. But still, there was that niggling thought that wouldn’t let her be now that she was here. Was it something her aunt just assumed she wouldn’t do?
She rubbed a hand down her face, hating she’d begun second-guessing her decision. Especially when ten million dollars were at stake. That was the only reason she had returned to the cove and no matter what, she must not forget it. Nothing else would have brought her back here.
Turning, she moved toward the steps, taking them two at a time like she’d always done. Bryce had given her the code to the Realtor lockbox and within seconds she was opening the door to go inside. Although the house had been closed up for a while, the scent of gardenias was in the air. It was a good smell and one she remembered. It came from all the gardenia bushes planted around the side of the house. Magnolias were another of her aunt’s favorite flowering trees and you would catch their scent when you walked in the backyard toward the gazebo.
Vashti stepped from the foyer into the living room parlor and glanced around. All the furniture was covered. Now that she knew if the Barnes Group did buy the inn they would tear it down, she hoped they planned to sell all the furnishings. Most of it was costly and were original pieces.
“Stay focused,” she told herself after seeing how run-down the place looked. Paint was peeling off the walls and there were brown stains on the ceiling that indicated some type of water damage. The inn had been vacant for about six months. At least it hadn’t been vandalized or anything and she was grateful for that. She headed for the stairs, deciding to check out the kitchen and dining room later. “Whatever the developer decides to do is not your business. Remain detached from this place,” she muttered to herself.
When she reached the landing to the second floor everything looked the same. Like downstairs, paint was peeling off the walls and she noticed a number of items needed to be placed on a “to be repaired” list. In addition to the bedrooms downstairs, there were ten bedrooms on the second floor, five on the third floor, and two huge studio-sized bedrooms on the fourth. The majority of the bedrooms faced the cove and provided a panoramic view of the gulf. From there you could see the boardwalk that led to the beach. She recalled when that boardwalk had been constructed with steps that led down the marshy path to the cove. In the evening lanterns were timed to come on at dusk to light the path. Vashti remembered how she would sit on those boardwalk steps for hours to stare out at the gulf.
She took the stairs down to the living room. Too many feelings were crushing down on her, but she refused to give in to emotions she wasn’t ready to deal with.
Squaring her shoulders, instead of moving toward the front door, she turned toward her aunt’s bedroom. She stopped in the doorway and drew in a deep breath. The room didn’t smell of gardenias but of vanilla, her aunt’s favorite scent. Vashti was convinced the aroma had seeped through the floors and walls. Inhaling it now reminded her so much of her aunt and so many cherished memories.
She’d always loved her aunt’s bedroom with the massive bed and complementing furnishing. The triple windows provided a beautiful view of a number of oak trees covered in Spanish moss. There was also the gazebo where many weddings had been held over the years. With the gulf as a backdrop, it was the perfect place for such celebrations. Leaving her aunt’s room she saw the guestroom that had been Vashti’s. Same furnishings, same decor and noted repairs needed.
She glanced at the trophy rack her aunt had bought to hold all the trophies Vashti had received in baton twirling. There were a number of them for all the years she’d aced the competitions and had once even gone on to win the national championship before finishing high school. Funny, she hadn’t twirled a baton in years. She knew somewhere in this room she would find her baton.
Vashti smiled when she saw it hanging on a rack on the wall. She was not surprised her aunt had kept it and her trophies. When the inn was officially sold, she wasn’t sure what she would do with them. She could donate the trophies to her high school since she’d represented them at all the competitions. The baton was hers. It had been a gift from her aunt on her tenth birthday along with six months of baton-twirling lessons. Her instructor had convinced her parents she was a natural and should continue the lessons and so they had.
Leaving the bedrooms, she crossed the living room and entered the section of the inn where the dining hall and kitchen were located. The inn was always filled to capacity on any day of the week. Some reservations were made a year in advance, especially from those planning their weddings and wanting to come here for their honeymoon.
There were visible scratches on several tables in the dining hall and several chair backs needed repair. The floor could also use a good polishing. There were ten tables neatly arranged. Each was covered in a white netted tablecloth. A set of double French doors opened to a beautiful rose garden. It was obvious her aunt’s prized roses hadn’t been tended to in quite a while. That made her wonder if perhaps her aunt hadn’t been feeling well lately but hadn’t mentioned it to anyone.
She had asked her mother if she’d suspected anything wrong with Aunt Shelby’s heath in case Vashti had missed something during her and Aunt Shelby’s weekly talks. Her mother said she hadn’t suspected a thing, but then her mother and Aunt Shelby didn’t talk often. Vashti had a feeling the sisters had had a disagreement about something and when she broached the subject with either of them they’d said she was imagining things. Vashti wasn’t so sure about that and knew for a fact they weren’t as close as they used to be.
Leaving the dining room, she entered the kitchen. This was where she had spent a lot of her days helping her aunt assist Daisy, her aunt’s