Page 79 of Falling Inn Love
“What is it? You know I hate surprises.” She looks at me and tilts her head, curious.
“You’ll like this one,” I say confidently.
I feel a warm glow flow through me. Hope. I am looking forward to going home to the inn.Home.Beth at the inn feels like home to me. Complete. It feels like everything is in front of us now and it’s all good things to look forward to.
Our ride arrives and we hug Cara and Steve. “Thank you for everything.”
“You always have a home in Freedom Valley anytime you want to come visit,” I tell them.
Beth thinks we’re going to the airport to fly home today, but we’re not. I have something else planned for us. Cara winks at me and holds the door for us. She and Steve know; they helped me plan it.
We slide into the back of the car that Beth thinks is taking us to the airport and she sinks back into her seat. “I’m going to miss them.”
“I can’t wait to come back here, and have them out to visit, too.”
“Their girls will have a blast at the inn, too. Maybe they can come next year for the fall festival.”
“Definitely. It’s an annual tradition again.” I nod. “Nothing can keep us from doing it now.”
Beth is looking out her window and suddenly, she tenses. “Wait, we’re not going to the airport.” She sits up. “Hey, sir, you missed the turn for the airport.”
The driver looks at me for help. I tell her, “Beth, we’re not going to the airport.”
“Where are we going?”
“I wanted you all to myself for one more day and night before we go home to the busy inn and everyone else.” I pick up her hand in mine and kiss it.
“Aw, well where are we staying?” she asks excitedly. “Is it an inn?”
“Of course it is. We’ll call it field research.”
Beth laughs. “Okay, let’s do this.”
We pull up to The Sage Hill Inn and our driver unloads our bags. A gentleman about our age is waiting for us. “Welcome to Sage Hill,” he says pleasantly.
I reach for Beth’s hand and we walk in together. It’s fall in Texas, too, albeit not near as beautiful as New England in the fall. Maybe I’m biased, but nothing can ever compare to New England in autumn.
The property is stunning. Old but unique, rustic but chic. There’s two main buildings and several smaller buildings, just like we have at our inn. Wildflowers speckle the sides of the property, making it feel cozy.
A fire pit area is in the center of the property, with Adirondack style chairs fashioned from older wood circling the pit.
We enter the lobby and stop to read some framed newspaper clippings about the history of the inn.What a great idea.We learn that The Sage Hill Inn has been restored by a distant family member and is over a hundred years old.
The lady at the front desk welcomes us warmly. “Checking in?” she asks.
I reach in my back pocket and pull out my wallet. “Reservation under Harper,” I tell her.
“Welcome Mr. and Mrs. Harper,” she says, and Beth squeezes my hand, quietly acknowledging her error. “I see you’ve booked our Lavender Casita Countryside view suite. Excellent choice.”
In fact, neither of us correct her. Instead, Beth says, “Thank you, we’re looking forward to our stay.”
“It’s early. Is it okay that we check in now?” I ask.
“Not to worry, we’re ready for you. You have a couples massage booked at two. Lunch begins at eleven, and dinner at five. The pool, hot tub, and outdoor area are open for your enjoyment until midnight.”
“Massages…” Beth whispers at me, her eyes light up. “I’ve never—”
“Me neither. Let’s just go with it,” I whisper.
