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headstone facing her was obviously newer than the few surrounding it.  Her eye caught on the Celtic cross topping it, a stark reminder of the recent loss suffered by The Inn and its host. She was no longer in Ireland, yet the headstone marker stood before her bearing a beautiful symbol of all she loved.
    Kitty smiled and moved to stand closer to it. She brushed some of the weeds away where they threatened to overcome the cross and let her hand rest on the deep markings that etched a life’s beginning and ending.
    Love was here. She felt it all around her. In the wind sweetly sighing, in the softness of the ground. And mostly in the way the whole area held its breath as she drank it in. The imagery brought a gasp to her lips. The memory of a lifetime filled with love and memory smote her as she knelt and uttered a small prayer.
    Finally, she straightened and stared down at the grave as though she could see all the way through it.
    “We all end up here, don’t we?” Ben’s voice, tinged with sorrow, made her jump at the suddenness of it.
    “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude on the privacy of your family…I followed a lot of seabirds. Strange they were here, isn’t it? Miles from water?” Her voice wavered, and she rushed into a conversation with herself. “Kitty Beebe, you’re always blundering into something—“
    “It’s all right,” he interrupted, moving to stand beside her. “Carla loved company. She wouldn’t mind a bit.”
    “The stone’s lovely,” she touched his arm. “She’d approve, I think. I almost feel her presence here and … she is at peace, Ben.”
    He nodded and the mask he wore slipped. For just a moment his pain and loss moved aside and allowed the love he denied to shine through. She thought he might speak of the woman he had lost, but he only shifted slightly and waved behind him.
    “We need to go back. I have things to do at the house.”
    He led the way to where the horses waited, his shoulders straightening with some inner resolve. The wounds of his sorrow had opened yet again and she couldn’t help but feel like she’d been the one to cause it.        

Chapter Five
    The Inn smelled like home baked bread with a touch of cinnamon and the coffee pot bubbled happily as it finished its work of making coffee.  Ben finished tying the string around the last bundle of roses and sat it on the table closest to the kitchen.
    The back door opened and Nikki came in, arms laden with grocery bags. “Hey there,” she said, breathless.
    “Here give me those,” he said, taking a bag from her. “I didn’t expect you.”
    “Yes, well, it was a surprise to me too.” Her face darkened. “My patient, the one I told you about, died this morning.”
    “Oh.” He didn’t know what to say. What did you say to a doctor who was supposed to be trained for those events—but you knew her well enough to know she was never that prepared?
    She began unloading the bags. “Yeah, oh. Oh, and oh again. It hurts sometimes, you know?”
    “I do.” He spoke truthfully and she gazed at him, pain etched her face, mirroring his own. 
    “How’s the guest?” She turned away, refusing to talk. “Has she finished her book yet?”
    He took bananas from her and set them on the counter. “No. In fact, I sort of wonder if she has even gotten started. She seems like the kind who needs to work up to the real heart of the situation. Writing a novel must be killer.”
    “I’ll bet it’s you. You’re distracting her.”
    He started to answer but Kitty entered and the words died on his lips.
    “The smell coming from the kitchen is enough to bring a woman floating along with no need for feet,” she said, a wide smile lighting her face. Then, she caught sight of Nikki. “Miss Butler, how wonderful to see you again!”
    Nikki grinned. “Thanks, great to see you too. How’s the writing going?”
    Her expression changed. “Not so good.”
    Ben wanted to laugh. “Why not? You had an