When Never Comes

by Barbara Davis

bird as she stepped into the Fife and Feather’s cozy lobby, a snug, low-ceilinged room decorated with shaker furniture and primitive American folk art. “Hey there!” A pretty blonde stood grinning behind the registration counter. She looked to be in her thirties, but there was an air of prom queen about her too, perky and bright with her messy bun and shimmery pink lips. “Welcome to the Fife and Feather.” Christine ran a hand through her hair, painfully aware of her bedraggled appearance. “I was driving by and saw the VACANCY sign. I’m hoping you still have a room available.” The woman’s smile widened as she produced a registration form from somewhere below the counter. “You’re in luck. The leaf peepers are gone, and it’s too early for Christmas guests. You can pretty much take your pick. What brings you to Sweetwater?” “I’m, uh . . . just passing through.” “So just the one night then?” “Yes. Just one night.” “Well, we’re happy to have you. I’m Missy Beck, by the way—the owner. And since we’re so quiet, I’m going to put you in my favorite room. It was actually the library back when the Holcombes owned it. The bookcases are all original.” Christine didn’t have the heart to tell her she wouldn’t be paying attention to much of anything except the bed. “Does the inn serve dinner?” “Sorry. I’m afraid we’re limited to breakfast. But I can offer you one of these to take the edge off.” She held out a plate of what appeared to be freshly baked oatmeal cookies.