The Red Door Inn by Liz Johnson Page B

more than satisfied with herself, tucking the picture back into its protector before holding it out to Marie. “I thought you might like this.”
    With still trembling hands, she accepted the gift. “Jack. I’m sure Jack will appreciate this. Thank you.”
    â€œWell then,” Aretha said. “We’ll see you back here soon.”
    Yes. They’d have to come back. Soon. After all, she hadn’t gotten any real furniture. Of course, it would be easier to finish painting before the rest of the furniture went in, but she’d promised Jack. She had to show him that she could do the job, get the inn everything it needed. She’d earn the roof over her head until she had to go. For now that meant rooms full of armoires and nightstands. Not just decorative pieces.
    â€œWe’re going to need furniture too.”
    Glancing into the back room, Aretha tapped her pursed lips twice. “You mentioned a writing desk, eh? I do have a beautiful one.”
    Marie’s stomach flipped with anticipation.
    Aretha showed her to the piece, but it didn’t strike her interest. What did catch her eye was the cherry buffet sitting right beside the desk. Strong and detailed, it would be stunning in the dining room, the perfect place for afternoon treats for the guests.
    â€œWhat about this?” She ran gentle fingers over it, enamored with the swirled hardware handles and curved legs.
    Aretha frowned. “I’m afraid that one is set to go on auction next week.”

7
    S eth took the bump at the end of the driveway slower than usual, his eyes on the figure in the passenger seat. Marie still hugged her knees under her chin, tucked into the corner as far away from him as possible. She hadn’t moved more than the barely-there rise and fall of her shoulders in the seven-minute drive from Aretha’s.
    â€œYou feeling any better?” He tried to keep his voice low, but it filled the cab, where there had only been silence for the entire drive.
    She turned her head, resting her ear against her knees and squinting at him. The faint pink of her lips struck a stark contrast to the ashen tint of the rest of her face. She mumbled something incoherent before hiding her face again and tucking her shoulders up to her ears.
    She’d pulled this a few times in the two days he’d known her, turning pasty white and eerily silent. She was either annoyed with him or seriously ill.
    If she was sick, it wouldn’t do to have her dying on his watch. Jack wouldn’t overlook that, and given the recentanimosity between Seth and Marie, Jack might even suspect Seth was responsible. Perhaps it was time to smooth things over, just in case she passed that near-death look and went all the way.
    Without saying anything, he hopped out of the truck and walked around to her side, reaching her just as she pushed the door open with a shaking hand.
    â€œCan you make it inside?”
    She nodded, but as her foot slipped on the side panel, he grabbed her arm to keep her from falling.
    Jerking her elbow out of his grasp, she whispered, “I’m fine.” Leaning against the closed door, she took an unsteady breath. Apparently noticing his doubt, she added, “I’ll be all right in a minute.”
    He wasn’t so sure, but arguing with her wasn’t going to get them on the road toward a truce. Swallowing the retort on the tip of his tongue, he shoved his hands into his pockets and glanced at the bed of the truck. They’d brought in a good haul for their first trip to Aretha’s, but it wasn’t nearly enough to decorate two full stories, a basement, and five guest rooms. And Aretha’s mention of the credenza up for auction next week had definitely caught Marie’s attention. Maybe he could tempt her out of her shell with a promise to get it for her.
    â€œI’ll take you to the auction on Monday.”
    She perked up, pink finally appearing in her cheeks.
    â€œIf you