Page 1 of The Magical Bed & Breakfast

Chapter One

Some things do start outmagical…

Kate Mayfield jerkedawake. She lay in bed, listening. That sound again, like a cat padding its way up the stairs. She shot bolt upright and waited. All was quiet but for the occasional creak of the old inn settling and wind battering at thinly paned windows, but if she waited…Kate counted to fifteen in her head…yes, there it was. She tossed back the feathery down comforter and slid her feet into pink bunny slippers.

She didn’t own a cat, had no idea how it got in, had never seen it—but she heard it at night when she was trying to fall asleep, or early in the morning when she wasn’t quite awake. In the pre-dawn hours before the sun cast its rays over the horizon, always she’d hear the cat padding up or down the stairs, the sound prevalent at those in-between times when the day was poised to break or twilight eased into night, and twice when midnight held the old inn in its grip. That’s when she heard it. She pictured mystery cat in her mind—black and fluffy, soft with silky fur just begging to be stroked.

She wondered if it had lived here before she bought the inn. Regardless, it had been evading her for months. She shook her head. That was ridiculous. How could that even be possible? She had workmen here all day, and she slept here at night. This was her home now, come high water or hurricane. She had sunk her savings into this project, and she needed to make it a success. She wouldn’t go crawling back to her family a failure. She’d broken free, and intended to stay that way.

Had the cat lived in the Hazard Inn before she bought it? Had this been its home before she had started her extensive renovations required to turn an eighteenth century building into a place where tourists would be delighted to stay?

Had a resident cat really been evading her for months?

Well, that would stop this morning.

She slipped her arms into her soft spa robe and, with it billowing behind her, crept down the bare, planked hall toward the stairs. She peeked in the other two rooms on the third floor as she passed. They were bare and empty. Hers, where she slept, was the only one furnished. At the top of the stairs, she peered down into the dimness. She had left a light on in the foyer. The small, dark bronze chandelier hung on a cord over the double doors, candle-style bulbs and delicate crystals casting a spectral glow.

Kate shivered, and a chill crept up her spine. She leaned over the banister. There again, on the wall above the first flight of stairs, was a shadow of a small furry animal. The cat,yes, she dashed down the stairs to the second floor, chasing it. She was closing in on it now. She had just barely heard it jump from the landing when she tripped on her robe on the next flight down, stumbled into the foyer, and…nothing. She eased her way into the front parlor, the drawing room, the dining area.

Mystery cat was gone. It had evaded her again.

Kate let out a sigh and shuffled into her newly remodeled kitchen. She flicked the light switch, and her brass lighting fixture sprang into life, brightening her favorite space. This…just this…was something to be proud of. She didn’t want modern—no, she wanted her kitchen to look true to the era in which the inn was built, but she didn’t want to cook in copper over an open flame either. So she’d compromised. The walls curved up in a charming arch, and she had a new stove and oven, styled to look as if they belonged in days long past. The refrigerator, all stainless gleaming steel of it, along with her very practical dishwasher, were camouflaged behind refinished mahogany pocket doors she could pull back when she was making the marvelous breakfasts her inn would be famous for. She rested against the counter and frowned at last night’s pathetic attempt at pumpkin spice muffins.

Where had she gone wrong? She’d followed the recipe—a recipe that got rave reviews on the internet. She blew out a breath, determined to give her muffins another chance. She picked one up, even as it crumbled in her hand. She braved a bite, chewed, swallowed, and with a dissatisfied groan, tossed the rest of the muffin in the trash. Nope, not eating it. It was so not worth the calories. Muffins should be delicious, decadent, and worth every indulgent bite, or why bother?

She was smart. She could learn to bake. What she did excel at was eggs cooked to order with crispy bacon and perfectly browned sausage. And toast, she could also manage toast. But visitors to a B&B expected more than just diner fare. She needed to learn to bake: muffins and scones and fluffy, light-as-air biscuits.

The pile of bills on the kitchen counter caught her eye. She was up early, best to make use of her time. She’d been avoiding a hard look at her finances. The cost of remodeling was staggering. So much more than she’d prepared for. But Kate was no slouch. She picked up the four unopened pieces of mail and slit them open. Offers, of course, from a plumber, an electrician, and a roofer all wanting her business. Well, they were out of luck. She’d already contracted those services. Kate opened the one remaining letter, expecting to toss it in the trash with the others, when she paused. An offer, yes, but this one was tobuythe inn. Her eyes skimmed over the words. Her breath caught at the amount. If she accepted, it would mean a serious profit over her purchase price. She glanced at the stack of invoices already past due. It was…almost tempting.

But she loved her inn. Surely, she could find a way to stay financially afloat. She only had to hold on long enough to open to guests. “The first of the year,” she murmured. “I just need to make it to the new year.” Tears pricked at her eyes. Yes, repairs would be done, but without furniture her guests would have nowhere to sleep. Her credit was already overextended. She had invoices due in a month. This offer…she caught the words on the bottom of the page,expires in thirty days. Kate drew a deep breath. One month, she had one month to decide. Her heart squeezed at the thought of selling.

Maybe…

So much hung on that one word.

Another deep breath and Kate glanced out the window at the courtyard behind her inn. She really needed a break, and waking up so early, she deserved a baked treat not of her own making. She glanced outside at the persistent breeze swaying trees. The rain had stopped. Radiance from the sun, still below the horizon and with a warm orange glow rising up at the edge of the world, promised hope.

Later, in the brightness of a crisp October day, she could tackle bills, make another baking attempt, and ferret out mystery cat’s secret passages. This inn, still hers, promised revelations to unfold. Deciding to ignore reality for a few hours more, Kate took a jubilant spin in her quaint kitchen, her long dark hair swinging free and her robe twirling with her, before she headed upstairs to put herself together to meet the neighbors. She would check out the Ivy Way Tea Shop today. If she arrived early enough, maybe she could beat the line out the door.

She tread the refinished floor back toward the stairs and paused, then she shivered again as she gazed down the long hallway leading to the back of the inn, to the door under the stairs. A door she kept locked, as it led down into the shadowy depths of her basement.

“This is my inn,” she told herself. “I own it. I belong in every part of it.”

Still, something beyond that door made her wary.

She had been here most of the summer overseeing the installation of central heat and air, but she hadn’t yet delved into the lowest level. It was sound, she’d been promised, by her Realtor Sally, and yes, she had done a walk-through before she bought the old place, but since moving in she just couldn’t bring herself to brave the darkness below. There was so much else to tend to.

It was an excuse and she knew it. If she wanted to solve the mystery of her erstwhile pet, she would have to really go looking for it. And that meant the basement, too, except…a chill crept up her spine at the thought of going down there alone.

Chapter Two

Kate paused acrossthe street from the tea shop. Was it open? The bakery next door was. It had a little crowd gathering just inside its jolly, pink-striped façade. Fluorescent lighting illuminated the glass case of doughnuts and cakes and danishes. Hmm, not what she was seeking this morning. She turned her gaze back to the tea shop. Its warm, gentle lighting was revealed as the owner scooped back the lace curtains, hooking them to frame an idyllic setting of tiny tables with curved back chairs. Kate crossed the quiet street, the wind hustling her in the direction it intended her to go. She increased her pace so as not to be bowled over by its encouragement. She paused at the door to the tea shop. The sign swinging slightly on the other side of the glass readSHUT.

Oh dear, she was too early. Kate glanced over at the bakery. “Well, I suppose,” she murmured, when the door popped open.

“Oh,” said the owner, a short woman with a blonde ponytail who blinked up at her. “Good morning.” She gave Kate a bright smile as she flipped the sign toOPEN. “Welcome!” She stepped back and waited as Kate entered, then struggled a bit to close the door as the wind decided to rush in and swirled around them, rattling china and glassware.

“So,” the blonde said as she clapped her hands once. “What can I get for you today?”

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