One problem tackled.
He scanned the interior. It remained as sparsely decorated as ever. It hadn’t been in use for decades. He’d meant to look into renovating the property as a specialty suite. He spotted an air mattress, a duffle bag, and backpack. His heart sank. Her whole life packed in a couple pieces of luggage.
In his worst moments, he hadn’t wanted her to be miserable. Mired in sadness enough for the both of them, he took no joy in her pain. He dropped the empty metal can on the ground.
Footfall echoed off the wooden bridge. He turned.
She entered the foam-filled mess. “Thanks for your help,” she said. Her voice sounded fraught and far-off.
He studied her.
She nibbled her lip, wrinkling her nose in that adorable fashion she’d had since childhood. It was the admitting-guilt face that always betrayed her protests of innocence during a crime.
“Do you think we should call the fire department?” she asked. “I can’t believe no one called the emergency number already. Doesn’t anyone care about their neighbors anymore?”
The woman, squatting on private property, was upset she hadn’t been noticed? She hadn’t lost her nerve. Or she correctly called his bluff. He wouldn’t have called the police to escort her off the premises, and he doubted anyone would have taken his side in an argument about her unlawful trespassing. Then he remembered who he was dealing with. She was Miss Center of the Universe. He’d forgotten that unfortunate side of her personality in favor of the good things. Like her eternal optimism. Although, positive thoughts hadn’t helped her much.
She sank to the ground, pulled out the plug on the partially melted air mattress, and stuffed her belongings into a duffle. “Guess you’re surprised to see me.”
He almost snorted. Instead, he joined her on the floor, kneeling on the air mattress to speed up the deflation process. “I’m shocked you set fire to the lighthouse. I thought you liked this building.”
“I did. I do,” she squeaked. She finished packing her belongings and zipped the bag. With a huff, she straightened. “This was an accident that I am not responsible for! I have committed no crime.”
He folded the mattress and frowned at his handiwork. Better to make faces at plastic than his wife. “This mattress is a lost cause.” He dropped it to the ground and straightened.
She sniffed her backpack and coughed. “I might need all the detergent in the Inn to get the smoky smell out of my clothes.”
He dusted his palms together and studied her billowing nightgown. The color was dull and dingy, probably from the smoke. “I can wash your clothes. You should have planned better. Pyrotechnics are hardly for amateurs.”
“You can’t really think this was me. If I would have deliberately set a fire to create a big scene, it would have involved something much showier, like fireworks.”
He shook his head. She backed away from outrage to self-deprecation fast. Very few things in her life received careful consideration and seriousness. They had filled their days with hijinks and hilarity. He'd enjoyed very little of either in the years since she'd been gone. Without her, he had no reason to laugh or tease. He had no one to share his life with.
“Come on, I have a vacant suite upstairs you can stay in.”
She nodded, slipping the backpack on her shoulders. “Sorry about the fire.”
He bent and grabbed the duffle, surveying the surroundings. It wasn’t particularly late. But the unusually frosty night kept the guests from promenading on the back porch. Good. An idea was forming, but he needed her not to be noticed. Invisibility was a laborious task. “It’s fine. Follow me.”
He strode across the lawn, and, for perhaps the first time on record, she didn’t talk. At the employee entrance by the turret, he held open the door and pointed to the spiral staircase.
She shuddered.
He stopped himself from rolling his eyes. She’d gone from one of her imagined haunted places to another, trading the lighthouse for the attic. Well, at least he vanquished those ghosts for good.
She climbed the stairs, her footsteps almost silent.
Following behind, he realized she didn’t have any shoes on. She was lucky she hadn’t gotten seriously injured.
At the top of the stairs, she pushed through the door and into his office.
He followed, setting down the bag to retrieve a key to the available suite.
“Oh.” The word was a gasp, a breath, and a reverential statement.
She noticed the renovation. He couldn’t help but smile. “See, no ghosts up here. Like I told you.”
“This is your office?” She spun in a slow circle.
