A Valentine Wish (Gates-Cameron 1)

Despite his frustration with his lack of progress into the investigation, Dean was fascinated by the developing picture of the inn’s history, and the people whose lives it had touched. As full as they were, the days passed quickly.

The nights, however, were long and restless. He slept in snatches, waking often to look blearily around his room, making sure he was alone. Always vaguely disappointed to find that he was.

“You really are an idiot, Gates,” he muttered late Wednesday afternoon, when he realized he was all but drooping with exhaustion from the amount he’d done on so little sleep.

“Talking to yourself again, Dean?” his aunt inquired as she approached in the garden where he was ripping down a rotten latticework trellis. He was taking advantage of a relatively balmy late-January afternoon to get some outside work done.

Dean chuckled. “Yeah. This time, I was.”

“You’d better watch that. People could start to worry about you. In fact, maybe they already have.” Her eyes searched his face as she spoke, and Dean knew she saw the lines and shadows of weariness.

“Just tired, Aunt Mae. We knew it would be a big job, getting the inn ready to open.”

“I can’t help feeling that there’s something more.”

He avoided her eyes. “I’m fine. Really. How are things going inside?”

Pulling her brightly embroidered jacket more tightly around her against the light, chilly breeze, Mae watched as Dean, clad in a sweatshirt, jeans and work gloves, reached for another section of trellis. “Well enough. It’s certainly noisy in there now, with the carpenters at work upstairs. Poor Casey. Every loud noise makes her jump. She’s a timid little dear, isn’t she?”

Dean knew that his aunt had all but adopted Casey, the same way she had adopted him and his sister. In return, Casey adored the woman she already called Aunt Mae.

Only with Mae had Dean seen the child relax and giggle the way a little girl her age should. With him, she was polite, but extremely shy. With her mother, she seemed anxious to please, as though she were the caretaker and her mother the one needing nurturing.

“Cara still working her fingers off in there?” Dean asked, already knowing the answer.

Mae sighed. “I’m afraid so. I simply can’t get her to slow down. She’s even tackled some of the heavy jobs we plan to hire people to do. She’s determined to earn her way.”

Dea

n shook his head. “She’s certainly doing that. I don’t suppose she’s told you any more about herself?”

“No, she hasn’t. I haven’t pried, of course, but I’ve made it clear that she’s among friends now, and if she ever needs to talk, either of us would provide a sympathetic ear.”

“Mark’s called me twice asking how she’s doing,” Dean commented.

“He did seem to be rather taken with her, didn’t he? But I’m afraid I got the distinct impression she isn’t interested in dating anyone. For all we know, she isn’t even free to do so.”

“I just hope we don’t have any other strays showing up on our doorstep,” Dean said ruefully. “Between us and the McAlisters, the inn’s already getting full, and we haven’t even opened yet.”

“Not to mention the Cameron twins,” Mae agreed cheerfully.

Dean dropped a board solidly on his foot.

He jumped, cursed, then looked questioningly at his aunt. “The, er, Cameron twins?” he asked, wondering if Anna had been visiting with someone else in the inn since he’d last seen her.

Mae laughed. “Of course. Our very own ghosts. They seem to come up in conversation with everyone I talk to in town. They’re very popular around here, you know. I suppose every little town likes having its own ghost stories with which to spook the schoolchildren.”

Dean could just imagine Anna’s reaction to that! He found himself surreptitiously looking around, half expecting her to appear and protest.

There was no sign of her.

He sighed and went back to work.

THE CLOCK on the nightstand read 2:51 when he woke. His dreams had been ... disturbing, leaving him itchy and aching and covered with a light film of sweat. He didn’t allow himself to dwell on the details. He knew exactly what he’d been doing in the dream, and with whom.

The inn was utterly silent, sleeping. Dean looked automatically toward the corner where Anna had appeared once before. This time, the chair was only a chair. No haunting eyes met his, there was no beaming smile to tighten his chest and make him think longingly of stolen kisses and intimate murmurings.

He was alone. And aware of his loneliness as he hadn’t been in a very long time.