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who was a year behind her in school. Tiffany. Tiffany Lambert.
    “Lauren?” Jess’s brown eyes widened. “Holy smokes. It’s been a long time. We’re responding to a call about—”
    “Hi, Jess. Tiffany. It’s my grandmother. She’s back here.” She directed them to the bedroom, breathing a sigh of relief as Matt stepped out of the way and let the paramedics take charge of Granny’s care. Her heart ached as Granny was strapped to the stretcher and loaded into the back of the ambulance. Mom climbed in behind her and blew Lauren and her brothers a kiss. Lauren managed a weak wave before the ambulance doors slammed shut.
    Matt glanced at his watch. “I can still pick up the guests from the ferry but there’s no way I can stay here tonight. Ang will kill me.”
    “I think I’m on for tonight. Unless you want to step up to the plate and take a swing at serving breakfast?” Lauren gave Seth a playful nudge.
    “N-n-no way.” Seth held up both hands and backed away, a look of panic in his eyes. “It’s all y-y-you.”
    “Right. All me.” How hard could it be? Greet the guests, fix a little breakfast, then send them on their way. A cool breeze blew in off the water and Lauren shivered, trying to ignore the way her stomach twisted in an anxious knot.

five

    Lauren knocked a stack of metal lids over and muttered under her breath as they clattered onto the kitchen floor. She was up with the sun to fix breakfast for the guests, a caffeine headache encircling her skull in its vise-like grip. Wrestling her mother’s ancient electric griddle from the cabinet, she rubbed her bleary eyes and studied the recipe on the Bisquick box. In her world, breakfast meant a carton of yogurt topped with granola. Her father reminded her late last night that guests expected, and paid for, something more substantial. Surely she could produce pancakes for two.
    He had come home around midnight and wrapped his only daughter in a warm hug, then followed it with grim news from the hospital. Granny’s fall resulted in not only a mild concussion but also a broken arm and ankle. Mom had left a few instructions scribbled on the back of an envelope. She must have already gone back to the hospital. Hopes of rest and rejuvenation dashed, Lauren accepted her assignment as temporary innkeeper. Come on, you’ve got this.
    The first egg she touched refused to come out of the carton. She tried again and half of the shell came off in her hand, dripping sticky egg white down her arm. Or not. Reaching for a paper towel, she tipped the open carton of half and half on its side. A white river flowed across the granite countertop. Fabulous.
    “Sure smells good in here.”
    Lauren’s head shot up, hands full of kitchen towels as she raced to soak up the sticky mess oozing down the side of the cabinet. The young couple from Chicago hovered in the doorway, eyes wide with surprise. She pasted on a smile and gestured toward the empty chairs at the table.
    “Please sit down, have some coffee.” Her father had set the table and programmed the coffee maker before he went to bed, buying her valuable time.
    “Are you the owner’s daughter or…” The man trailed off, pressing his wire rimmed glasses back up on the bridge of his nose.
    Lauren tossed the soggy towels in the sink and reached for the carafe of coffee. “I’m Lauren. My parents couldn’t be here this morning. My grandmother fell—it’s a long story. Do you take cream and sugar?”
    “Yes, please.”
    “Chilly this morning,” the woman shivered, drawing her navy blue cardigan tighter.
    “Sure is.” Lauren set two steaming mugs of coffee in front of them and then scrambled to open a new carton of half and half. She really needed to get those pancakes started.
    “Did you grow up here then?”
    “Uh huh,” she kicked the refrigerator door shut, balancing butter, orange juice, and a bowl of fruit salad in her arms.
    “How do you sleep with all of this light?” the woman asked, wrapping