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the one who cares about the fresh paint and cut lawn.
    He noticed her eyes as they swept the room when she walked out of the doorway from behind the main counter. She was constantly checking to see that everything was in order, like an actress walking onto the stage. This stage was hers, and he was the audience.
    “The kitchen is closed, but if you’re hungry I can get you something.”
    “No, thank you.” He signed the necessary paperwork, but as he looked up at the woman, he noticed that her demeanor had shifted. Her smile now seemed slightly forced. Jack tossed the key to Replacement, and she dashed up the stairs.
    “Breakfast begins at seven.” Her eyes lifted slightly as she stared at Jack. “Will there be anything else, Mr. Stratton?”
    “No, thank you.” He grabbed the duffle bag and started to jog up the stairs after Replacement.
    Ms. Foster cleared her throat, and Jack stopped. He looked back, puzzled; she glared at his feet, and her lips pressed together.
    I’m walking too loud?
    “Sorry.” He smiled.
    Looks like it will be only one night here.
    He slowly walked up to the room and hurried in. It was a medium-sized room with all period furniture. The wallpaper was a bright white with an intricate pattern of green filigree. A large bed with a white comforter and pillows was the predominant feature. Dark ornamental bureaus stood along the wall, and a loveseat sat to the left of the door. He tossed the duffle bag down and then looked around for Replacement. She was gone.
    “Hey, kid?” he called out.
    She walked out of the bathroom. “You were right. They have toothbrushes, toothpaste, shampoo.”
    “They do that.” Jack tried to smile and not smirk.
    Replacement held up a bottle. “But it’s free. It says complimentary.”
    Jack was going to explain that it was included in the price of the room but he didn’t have the heart. He flopped down on the bed and groaned.
    It’s so soft. What’s this made of? This bed…
    He sat bolt upright and stood up.
    It’s a king.
    He spun around and looked at the enormous bed. “You got a king?” he asked Replacement.
    “What?” Replacement came back into the room, examining a wrapped bottle of conditioner.
    “You got one, king-sized bed?”
    “It’s huge.” She went over and fell down on it with her arms wide.
    “No. Nope. Hold on.” Jack turned and walked briskly to the front desk.
    Halfway down the stairs, the same woman who had greeted him earlier was giving him a stern look. He slowed down and all but tiptoed the rest of the way. She smiled approvingly.
    “Hi. I’m sorry, Ms. Foster, but there was a little mix-up with our room.”
    “How so?” Her smile vanished.
    “There’s only one bed.”
    “All of our rooms feature a full-size Victorian bed. That would be the most historically accurate in keeping with our theme.”
    “All of the rooms?”
    She nodded.
    “Well, did they have a spare bed or a cot back in time?”
    “I’m afraid not. There’s a sofa.”
    Jack tried to recall the room.
    Big canopy bed. Bathroom to the left. Old bureaus.
    “I can assure you that there’s a sofa.” She looked as though she was starting to get perturbed.
    “Lady, do you have another room?”
    “None of our rooms—”
    Jack waved his hands to cut her off. “A whole new room. I’ll rent two.”
    Her eyebrow rose slightly, and her amber eyes narrowed. “We’re currently at full occupancy.”
    He put one hand on the counter and leaned in. “No offense, but is there another hotel in town?”
    She smiled pleasantly and shook her head. “The nearest is in Plimpton, and that’s a bit of a drive. I must mention that once you appear for your reservation, there are no refunds.” She pointed to a sign behind the counter written in an old English script: NO REFUNDS.
    “Is that historically accurate?” Jack leaned on the counter. “The Pilgrims didn’t give refunds?”
    Her jaw clenched slightly before she spoke. “The inn is designed to reflect the