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The morning before Ariel and Miles’s wedding dawned cold and overcast, but the winter season had cast its spell upon the inn, enveloping it in a serene hush that only seemed to amplify the warmth emanating from within. Golden hues spilled out through the windows, inviting anyone who came into its cozy embrace. Inside, the comforting aroma of home-cooked food and the soft murmur of laughter filled the air.
Ariel Hawthorne surveyed her bustling kitchen with a keen eye, ensuring every detail was in order for the upcoming wedding reception.
"All right, everyone," Ariel called out, gathering her staff around her. "We've got a tight schedule and a long list of tasks to complete before tomorrow's ceremony."
"Charlie, I need you to check on the floral arrangements in the dining area. Oliver, please make sure all the place settings are immaculate." Ariel's sister and half-brother sprang into action, eager to help bring their sibling's vision to life.
As Ariel moved gracefully through the kitchen, her hands worked in tandem with her thoughts – chopping, stirring, and plating with practiced precision. Every dish, every garnish, and every sauce received her meticulous attention, leaving no room for error. The scents and sounds of the kitchen swirled around her like a symphony, each note adding depth to the concerto of flavors she was orchestrating.
"Jill," Ariel called to her friend, who was dipping rose petals in sugar for the reception desserts, "please make sure we have enough champagne chilling for the toast. We don't want to run out." She paused, inhaling the tantalizing aromas wafting from the oven before continuing, "And if you could also double-check the dessert table when you take those petals out to be sure that chilling mat is plugged in, that would be fantastic."
"Of course, Ariel!" Jill replied with enthusiasm, darting off to fulfill her tasks.
As the flurry of activity continued, Ariel remained at the epicenter, guiding her team like a compass. There was no room for mistakes; every aspect of the reception had to be executed with precision. And as the snow outside continued to fall gently upon Endless Harbor, inside, warmth and anticipation radiated through the air.
"All right, Darcy," Ariel said as she stirred a large pot of sauce, "I need you to keep an eye on the oven and make sure none of those Cornish hens overcooks. I've got to go check on the dining room setup."
"Understood, Captain," he replied with a mock salute, earning a chuckle from Ariel. As she left the kitchen, she felt reassured knowing that Darcy would handle everything with care and precision, allowing her to focus on the multitude of tasks still awaiting her attention. And she hadn’t missed the looks that Darcy and Jill were sending one another across the kitchen as they worked.
Ariel surveyed the dining room, her keen eyes taking in every detail – from the placement of the silverware to the arrangement of the centerpieces.
As Ariel adjusted a wine glass, Charlie's voice cut through the stillness, pulling Ariel from her reverie. She turned to see her sister and Oliver standing in the doorway, their cheeks rosy from the cold. "What next, sis?"
"Oh," Ariel replied with a grateful smile. "Charlie, can you see if the cake bakery has started on their way yet? And Oliver, would you mind helping me tie the seating chart out to the name cards in here?"
"Of course," they chimed in unison, their shared enthusiasm lifting Ariel's spirits. As her siblings got to work, she smiled with pure happiness.
The next hour passed in happy activity, and they all finally gathered in the kitchen to breathe a collective sigh of relief. Ariel paused for a moment, allowing herself to soak in the scene before her. The air was redolent with the aroma of roasting garlic and simmering sauces, mingling with the sound of laughter from Charlie and Oliver. Jill stood with Darcy, their heads together as they whispered and smiled. Katie was missing, having only come down this morning to grab food and return sullenly to her room, but Ariel was letting her have her space.
Soon, the kitchen cleared, and Ariel was left alone. She texted Miles, who had run into town for supplies for the coffee bar. As the sound of a gentle rain tap-danced against the windowpanes—the snow having let up to a fine misty precipitation—Ariel struck a match and carefully guided its flame to the wick of an apple-cinnamon scented candle, and then poured herself some coffee. The flickering warmth of the candle cast playful shadows across the kitchen's cozy corners, imbuing the room with an air of tranquility. She exhaled softly, allowing herself a momentary reprieve from the whirlwind of activity around her.
The kitchen was now a peaceful sanctuary, the scent of apple-cinnamon mingling with the lingering traces of garlic and rosemary. Ariel stood alone among the stainless steel appliances and gleaming utensils, her fingers drumming against the wooden cutting board as she contemplated her next move. She picked up her coffee and slipped out the back door, the warm cup in her hand helping guard against the cold air.
She took a moment to stand there, her breath forming misty clouds in the cold air. The world outside felt pure and untouched, a blank canvas waiting to be filled with new memories and experiences. Her heart swelled with gratitude for everything she had—the supportive friends, the loving family, the cozy home, and her cherished bed-and-breakfast and restaurant. Ariel closed her eyes, allowing the tranquility of the moment to wash over her. She was living a life she had once only dreamed of, surrounded by people who loved and cared for her. The laughter of her siblings, the whispers and camaraderie of her friends, Katie in a place that she could call home for the rest of her life and always come back to, and Miles—the love of her life.
With a contented smile, Ariel whispered a silent thank you to the universe for these precious moments of peace and happiness. Right now, in this tranquil winter scene, she couldn't help but feel that everything was just as it should be.
A sudden, acrid scent pulled Ariel from her reverie, causing her brow to furrow in confusion. The aroma of smoke filled her nostrils, its bitter tang setting off alarm bells in her mind. She glanced around the back porch, searching for any signs of trouble. Then, she turned to where the back door was slightly ajar, and then, as if she were on auto-pilot, her feet carried her back into the kitchen.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Ariel opened the door to the kitchen and walked to the dining room, sniffing the air. As she turned back toward the kitchen, a flicker of movement caught her eye. There, beneath the left upper cabinets by the stove, wisps of grayish-black smoke wafted upward, their sinuous dance betraying the presence of flames. Ariel's heart seized with terror as the reality of the situation sank in – there was a fire—and it was spreading fast.
"Fire!" she yelled, her voice cracking with panic. "There's a fire in the kitchen!"
But everyone must have been out of hearing range—because there was no rush of footsteps. No concerned faces appearing in the opposite doorway. Ariel's breath caught in her chest as she stared at the growing inferno before her. Flames rapidly licked the walls, greedily consuming whatever they touched, and thick black smoke billowed upward, obscuring the kitchen and starting to billow toward Ariel. The heat pressed against her skin, a dangerous force.
The fire extinguisher!
It was in an antique metal cabinet hanging on the wall by the stove. She reached out with blind fingers and tried to unclasp the latch, but it was stuck fast. Ariel coughed violently and grabbed for a nearby kitchen towel, grateful to find it damp. She wrapped it around her face for protection. She could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins, feeding into her determination to save her beloved establishment—the physical manifestation of her dreams. She thought about the others who might be in the house, and her chest squeezed.
The fire only seemed to grow more ferocious. It offered no mercy, instead continuing its unyielding march toward the ceiling. As the smoke thickened, Ariel found it increasingly difficult to breathe, her lungs burning as if they were being consumed by the fire itself. Panic clawed at the edges of her mind, threatening to overtake her.
"Help!" she called out, her voice hoarse and barely audible. She knew that there was little chance anyone would hear her; as far as she knew—and hoped—she was the only person in the house.
Except Katie.
No—Ariel remembered that, as Charlie had left, she had told Ariel that she was taking Katie along to town for hot chocolate and cookies. Relief flooded her. But now, the entire room was ablaze. Leeside was rapidly becoming a death trap, and Ariel recognized that her only chance at survival lay in escape. The floorboards groaned beneath her feet, threatening to buckle under the heat. Panic clawed at her chest, urging her to flee, but something within her—perhaps instinct, or stubborn determination—compelled her to try to save herself.
