The Magnolia Inn(14)



“Good grief! That’s really ambitious,” Jolene gasped.

“The sky is the limit, so why keep our feet on the ground?” He quoted one of Melanie’s favorite sayings.

Sassy hopped up on the table and curled up next to the sugar bowl. Jolene reached over and stroked her long white fur until she started to purr. That gesture went a long way in Tucker’s books. Any woman who didn’t pitch a bitchy fit because the cat got on the table was an okay partner as far as he was concerned.

While she was paying attention to the cat, he stole sideways glances at her. Something stirred in his heart. He hadn’t felt anything for a woman since Melanie died. Feelings like he had for his wife came along only once in a lifetime, and they sure didn’t happen at first glance. This was probably just excitement.

He must have overwhelmed Jolene enough—showing up unannounced the way he had and then going on and on about the potential he could see in the place. So he picked up his notepad and carried it and a tape measure upstairs.

“What are you doing now?” She’d followed him—an unexpected choice. “Planning on building another wing on the inn so we can turn it into a hotel?” Her tone twined jealousy and sarcasm.

“No, ma’am. This place is just the right size for a bed-and-breakfast. Keeps the cozy feeling. Besides, you probably don’t want to make breakfast for more than twelve people, do you?” he asked.

“Aunt Sugar offered a rollaway bed if a couple wanted to stay with a child or if three ladies came down to go to the antique stores for a weekend,” she said. “But three to a room was her limit.”

“Then eighteen at the most. Any more than that and we might have to call the place the Magnolia Hotel.” He opened the door to the first bedroom, dropped down on his knees, and removed the tape measure from his belt. He pulled the tab out and then handed it to her. “Stretch this to the other side of the room.”

“My first job as a carpenter’s helper,” she said.

“It’s not any worse than my first one as a B&B owner. I had to set the table for supper,” he shot back.

“I guess we’ve both got a lot to learn.” She pulled the metal tape to the other side of the room. “Twenty feet, and it looks to be square to me.”

“We’ll measure for sure, but I agree with you. We can take six feet off the side of this one and have a nice-sized bathroom and a closet to put the rollaway bed in as well as give the guests a place to hang clothing. Do you realize not a single room has a closet?” He reeled in the tape measure and drew out a rough plan for the two bathrooms.

She peered over his shoulder. “That’s what the armoires are for, and there’s two rollaways in the closet under the stairs.”

“The armoires are pretty beat-up. Let’s get rid of them. That’ll give us more room for something like a rocking chair by the window. How in the world did two old folks ever get those rollaways up the stairs?”

“Growing up, I always thought Uncle Jasper was the strongest man in the world, but now that I think about it, I bet getting those things up and down has been a chore for him for a while. Maybe they didn’t use them very often.” She smiled just thinking of her aunt and uncle.

“Or maybe those beds were the reason they decided to retire.” His eyes left the notes and focused on her. She was downright beautiful, especially when she smiled.

“I told Aunt Sugar the reason she left after Christmas was so she wouldn’t have to do the spring cleaning on this place.”

“Guess the remodel will take care of a lot of the cleaning business. Hey, do you ever do much shoppin’ in the antique stores in Jefferson?” he asked.

“Two of Aunt Sugar’s closest friends run a couple of them. Lucy has Attic Treasures, and Flossie owns Mama’s Place. Why?”

“See that oak washstand over there in the corner? Two bedrooms have those, and we could use one as a vanity in each bathroom. I kind of pictured this place with an old plantation home flavor,” he said. “What did you have in mind?”

“Tara from Gone With the Wind.” There was that smile again.

“Isn’t there already a place called that in Jefferson?”

“It’s still a museum, restaurant, and gift store, but it’s no longer a bed-and-breakfast. I meant the aura. It should always have that old-world magnolia charm,” she said.

“Want to plant some magnolia trees?” he asked.

“Aunt Sugar tried that, but they didn’t survive.”

He sat down on the top step and patted the floor beside him. “She ever tell you why it’s named the Magnolia Inn?”

“Aunt Sugar’s mama came from southern Louisiana, where magnolias are everywhere. So when her parents rented rooms, she named the place that. Please don’t tell me you were thinking of changing it. That’s one area we’d have to fight about,” she said.

“No, I kind of like the image of peace that it brings,” he answered.

Tucker hadn’t figured on being comfortable in the house, or that he and Jolene would hit it off. He’d thought he’d plug into the electricity and live in his trailer, but now he was entertaining notions of moving all the way indoors. He shut his eyes and brought up a visual of Melanie.

What do you think, darlin’?

It’s been time to leave the trailer for a long, long time. Her voice was loud and clear in his head.

Carolyn Brown's Books