Page 27 of Manors & Mischief

“And second and third,” I admit. Hell, it’s probably already up to ten.

“What is it about her that you don’t like?”

“It’s not that.”

Bea laughs, and suddenly, I’m transported back to the school playground when I used to chase her up and down the slide. “It has to be something.”

“She brings out the worst in me. I can’t even put my finger on it.”

“She tilts her head to the side. This is just a genuine observation. You can take it or leave it. You can tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about and honestly, it’s not like I’m a guru for romantic advice, but maybe someone who brings out the worst in you can also bring out the best in you.”

“Not you too,” I groan.

“What?”

“Trav, my mother. You didn’t see that she made me help Ember with the bonfire instead of Trav when he always does it?”

“Your mom can be quite conniving when she wants something.”

“She’s not the only one.”

“Maybe you’re the only one who doesn’t see it.”

I roll my eyes.

“I’m just saying, maybe give her a chance. She’s great, Dev, and you know I would tell you if I thought differently. Her family has been giving her a hard time about being here, plus all the stress with the house. Owning a house is one thing, but owning Sleepy Hollow Manor is another, and it’s certainly not helpful when you use your particular brand of grumpy while around her.”

I open my mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. Grumpy is probably an apt word. “So maybe I’ve been a little hard on her.”

“Yeah, maybe. Or most likely. Just like you can’t change the set of circumstances that brought you here, neither can she. Did you ever think of that, Smarty Pants?”

She smirks, and I follow suit when the nickname she used for me in high school slips out. She used to say she couldn’t believe I could be so good at everything. Hockey, school, being a good son.

I don’t know where that guy went, but somewhere along the way, he got mad and nothing was ever normal again.

11

EMBER

The smell of crisp leaves and coffee meet me as I sit in a rocking chair on the grand front porch of Harvest Falls B&B. My new friend, Rose Hathaway, walks past me and sits in an adjacent chair, setting her own cup of mild roast on a small table next to her.

This is exactly what I thought small town life would be like. I met someone new at the grocery store, and suddenly, my whole plan for the day shifted and I find myself having a great conversation with a scenic view.

“You certainly have the best view in Harvest Falls,” I tell her. Her B&B sits on a hill on the opposite side of town from Sleepy Hollow Manor. The valley is filled with trees with every shade of fall color you could imagine, and peering around, I’m so jealous of how well kept her place is. “How do you do it?”

“Hmm?”

“The house? The business?”

Rose laughs. “Well, that’s a loaded question if I ever heard one. How much time do you have?”

“All day,” I tell her with a grin. “All day and all night.” Because if I don’t find a way for Sleepy Hollow Manor to make money, I won’t ever be able to keep it up like this. “I’m feeling so overwhelmed.”

“Well, I had more of a head start than you did. My parents owned this place,” she tells me. “And their parents before them. ‘Old houses have character,’ is what they always said, and I didn’t realize until I owned the place that what they meant was old houses cost you money.”

I chuckle even though a sliver of fear squeezes my gut.

She must see it because she reaches over and taps my leg. “Being steward of a grand house is the best job ever. I can assure you of that.”