The Inn by William Patterson Page B

heard a lot of scuttling. Up in my room, too.”
    â€œListen, Miz Wish,” Zeke said. “I don’t think you oughta open up the fireplace. I can tell you that the chimney is no good. And the ash dump down in the basement is all cracked. Why don’t you start on something simpler? Fixing the windows is a good idea, and I’ll help you paint the walls.”
    Annabel shook her head. “We need a roaring fire in this room to ward off the cold this winter. How inviting will it be to walk into this room and feel the warmth of the fire, see the light flickering on the walls at night?” She smiled, standing up, and turning around to look back at Zeke. “In fact, I’d say fixing the fireplace is number one on my list.”
    Zeke stared at her. “Have you told Cordelia?”
    â€œJack spoke to her. Believe me, she’s going to love how we fix the place up.”
    Zeke watched her as Annabel spread her plans out on the table, looking up from them at the walls and the windows, then down at her blueprints again.
    The woman was a fool.
    She walks into this house and thinks she can do what she likes, Zeke thought. She has no idea. None whatsoever.
    She’s bringing in a mason to check out the chimney.
    Zeke knew that, one way or another, he’d make sure that mason told Annabel to leave the fireplace alone.

26
    â€œI think this calls for a glass of wine, don’t you?” Jack was asking.
    They had all just come down to the dining room for dinner. Normally, the inn only served breakfast to its guests, but because a light dusting of snow was suddenly blanketing the roads, Annabel had offered to make dinner for everyone. Priscilla and Neville had thought that was a grand idea, since they weren’t keen on skidding along back roads in search of some restaurant.
    Jack uncorked the wine as Annabel began chopping vegetables in the kitchen.
    â€œShe’s a vegetarian, you know,” Jack told his English guests, pouring some merlot in a glass for each of them. “Hope you don’t mind a meal of carrots and lentils.”
    â€œI’m sure it will be delicious,” Priscilla said, accepting her glass and taking a sip. “Oh, this wine is divine.”
    It was just the four of them for dinner, plus Zeke, as Cordelia had complained of a headache and disappeared into her room. The rest of them sat around the dining table drinking their wine, Zeke sipping from a mug of beer.
    â€œI should really go out to the kitchen and offer Annabel my help,” Priscilla said.
    Jack grinned over at her. “You just stay right there,” he told her. “You’re a guest. Annabel enjoys cooking.” And he winked at her.
    Priscilla could feel her cheeks redden.
    â€œAnnabel said she’s going to open up the fireplace,” Neville offered, apparently oblivious to Jack winking at his girlfriend. “A fire sure would be nice on a snowy night like this.”
    Jack was nodding. “We’ve got some good ideas for this place. I was telling Priscilla earlier that if you come back a year from now, you’ll never recognize it.”
    â€œNow, look here,” Zeke said, gazing up at them from over his mug. “You told your grandmother you’d go slow.”
    â€œDon’t worry, Zeke,” Jack assured him.
    â€œAnd I’m not sure that chimney is fixable,” the old caretaker said. “Not sure you want to spend four grand to fix it your first month here.”
    â€œWhat’s a bed-and-breakfast in the woods without a fireplace?” Neville asked. “I’m with you, Jack. Get that chimney smoking again.”
    Jack was smiling and refilling everybody’s glass of wine. “Absolutely,” he said. “We could be toasting marshmallows as we wait for dinner.”
    They all laughed, except Zeke.
    â€œWhat is that American custom of marshmallows and chocolate over a fire?” Priscilla asked.
    â€œDo you mean