Coming Home by Mariah Stewart Page A

image of her face and the scent that had floated lightly around her, much as her dress had done, a scent that reminded him of some flower that his mother had liked so much that she always had them in the house when they were in season but he couldn’t recall their name.
    Then there was the disturbing thought that—his protestations to his sister aside—he just might be more interested in Vanessa Keaton than he’d like to be.
    In his mind he went back over the scraps of conversation he’d shared with her, and realized he’d learned nothing about her except that she was Beck’s sister, but he’d already known that—Beck’s half sister , he recalled Mia saying—and that she owned a shop where she sold what she called “girlie things.” Well, she was certainly girlie—in the way that Mia was, anyway. They were both pretty and soft and feminine. Of course, he recalled, Mia was also a deadly shot and had been top of her class in martial arts.
    He opened the door and stepped out onto the balcony and caught the salty night air, and wondered what more he might learn about Vanessa Keaton before the week was over.
        “Here you go, Miss Grace.” Vanessa stopped in front of the old Federal-style mansion that had tall columns reaching to the third floor. It had been updated sometime in the 1800s by one of Miss Grace’s late husband’s great-somethings, adding porches to the second and third floors to match the one on the ground level. “Door-to-door service.”
    “I appreciate the ride all the way out here, dear.” The older woman sat with her purse on her lap. “I wasn’t ready to leave the party when my son was. Daniel had to get the kids to bed early. It may have been a party night for us, but it’s a school night for them.”
    “I didn’t mind a bit.” Vanessa smiled. “I love to come out here. I love the drive down that long lane and seeing this beautiful house sitting there with the Bay behind it. I think it was wonderful that your family turned it into an inn so that everyone could enjoy it.”
    “Well, it was my husband’s family, not mine. But yes, the old place makes for a fine inn. We spent many happy years here, running it, Dan and I did.” She nodded as if in satisfaction for those years. “Once he was gone, I didn’t mind turning it over to our son. Daniel has turned out to be an excellent innkeeper. He’s made some changes that I didn’t understand at first, but I bit my tongue. Turns out all that stuff—the playground, the guided nature walks, all those classes for children, the art classes, the yoga—it all made my head spin when Daniel first started talking about it, but I have to admit, it’s all been very profitable. Between all those activities and the children, he keeps very busy. Barely has a minute for a life of his own.” Grace stared out the window toward the Bay. “I’m sure you heard about his wife’s drowning …”
    Vanessa nodded. “I did. It happened the year before I came to St. Dennis. It was such a sad thing.”
    “It was a terrible tragedy.” Grace sighed as she unbuckled her seat belt. “I keep wishing that Daniel would meet someone. He’s too young to be alone for the rest of his life.”
    “Well, maybe someday the right woman will walk through those big double doors and just knock him dead,” Vanessa said.
    “Now that’s a happy thought for me to take with me tonight.” Grace reached over and squeezed Vanessa’s hand, then opened the car door. “You know, I’ve always prided myself on being quite the matchmaker—you wouldn’t believe some of the couples I’ve gotten together—but when it comes to my own son, I just don’t seem to have the right touch.”
    “He’ll find the right person on his own, or she’ll find him,” Vanessa assured her.
    “Of course, you’re right, dear.” Grace got out of the car, but before she closed her door, she said, “I’ve been meaning to tell you what a terrific addition Bling is to the shopping