a good dog. Did you miss me?”
The dog pressed his body against Sam but scooted closer so he could rub his head against Dana’s jeans, obviously inviting more affection. She stroked along his broad crown. “Hi, Kimmik.”
Sam looked up at her. “You know Kimmik?”
“We met, briefly. How did he get his name?”
“Kimmik is an Inupiat word.”
“What does it mean?”
Sam grinned. “Dog.”
Dana laughed. “Original.”
“So here’s the prodigal son. Did you get lumber?” A woman with cropped gray hair emerged from an opening in a fenced area beside the house. She carried a basket on her arm. A smile of delight lit up her face.
“I did.” Sam held out his arms and the woman wrapped him in a big hug, the basket of greens bumping against his back. Seeing the obvious affection between Sam and Ursula, Dana felt almost jealous. Neither of her parents had ever greeted her with such enthusiasm.
“Good boy.” She reached up to run her hand over his jaw as if inspecting him. “Tommy would never have believed you’d grow up to be so tall. I guess I fed you well.” She turned a smiling face toward Dana. “And you must be Chris’s sister.”
“Yes. I’m Dana.”
“Welcome.” Dana got a friendly hug, too, if not quite as exuberant as the one Ursula gave Sam. Ursula looked her over. “You don’t look much like your brother.”
“No. I take after my mother, and Chris—well, I don’t know who Chris takes after. Must be a recessive Viking gene or something.”
Ursula smiled. “Well, any sister of Chris’s is a friend of mine.”
“You know Chris well?”
“Oh, yes. He stops by to see me every time he’s up or back.” She changed her voice to a stage whisper. “Between you and me, I think he really comes for the scones.”
Dana laughed. “He does have a sweet tooth.”
Sam took a deep breath. “I smell fish smoking. Did you get some reds?”
Ursula smiled. “A king.”
“How big?”
“Twenty-two pounds.”
“Excellent. When will it be ready?”
She chuckled. “Not until tomorrow. I have chili for tonight.”
“I suppose that will have to do.” From the laugh lines at the corners of Sam’s eyes, Dana suspected chili must be a favorite of his.
Ursula turned toward the building. “Well, come on in.”
While Sam grabbed their bags, Dana followed Ursula into the inn, Kimmik trailing behind them. They crossed a large deck and entered into a room with a soaring ceiling. A stone fireplace dominated the room along the back wall, with a chimney reaching up to the crown. Flanking the fireplace, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked a spruce-covered mountain, even greener than the ones in Anchorage. Two stained glass inserts depicting small blue flowers were set high in the windows, tinting the light that fell on the wood floor.
Four dining tables of various sizes clustered at one end of the room. At the other end, comfortable chairs and sofas gathered in front of the fireplace. Two armchairs with table lamps snuggled in the corners, creating cozy reading nooks. Kimmik plopped down on a rug in front of the fireplace.
“This is gorgeous.” Dana turned to Ursula. “I love the windows.”
“Thank you. That’s why we call it the Forget-me-not Inn.”
Sam carried in the bags and kicked the door shut behind him. “Where do you want us?”
“The west wing. You can get to work on that gate first thing in the morning. We have three couples in the main bedrooms tonight. Try to keep your language within bounds.”
Sam laughed. “If you don’t want salty language, you shouldn’t draft me for building projects.”
“Watch it, buddy. You’re not too old to feed the curse jar.” She made a shooing motion. “Go put those bags away. Put Dana in Rose. Dana, would you like a tour?”
“I would love that.”
They started in the kitchen. The scent of meat, onions and chili wafted from a slow cooker. Ursula set the basket on the counter. “Lettuce thinnings for the salad tonight, along with chili and cornbread.”
“Yum.” Two ovens, a six-burner range and a commercial dishwasher identified the room as a working kitchen, but the baskets on the wall and crocks of utensils on the countertops gave it a homey feel. Behind the kitchen, a bookshelf-lined sitting room and cozy bedroom made up Ursula’s private quarters.
“I’ve already cleaned and made the beds, but come with me and I’ll show you the guest rooms.” Ursula handed her a jar of foil-covered candies. “You can help me with the mints.”
Continuing the wildflower theme, each room had a different blossom painted on the door. The furniture was simple but elegant, with soft duvets or patchwork quilts on all the beds. Not a doily in sight. At Ursula’s direction, Dana left a piece of candy on each nightstand.
Ursula led her back to the main room and to another hallway. “You’ll have the Wild Rose room and Sam is across the hall in Lupine. I’ll let you freshen up while I make tea. Today we have wild blueberry scones.”
Dana opened the painted door and walked into the room. A quilt in muted shades of rose, amber and green covered the bed. Through an open doorway, she could see a shower curtain with a large-scale print of wild roses framing a huge tub. A beveled mirror reflected sunshine from the window and projected a rainbow on the wall above the bed.
She reached into her suitcase for her toiletry kit. Pausing in front of the mirror, she brushed her hair and put on lip gloss before she hurried back to the gathering room. She wouldn’t want to be late for tea.
* * *
THAT EVENING, SAM and Dana sat with Ursula in front of the big fireplace. The three couples staying at the inn had turned in early after a full day of offshore fishing in Seward. Sam watched Dana struggling with a hook and a ball of yarn. Poor kid—she’d made the mistake of admiring Ursula’s crocheted afghans, not realizing it would lead to a crochet lesson.
Or maybe she did. She seemed to be trying to get it right. “So, down, loop, back through and another loop, right?”
“That’s perfect. Now just keep doing that until you come to the end of the row and I’ll show you how to turn.”
Sam had purposely chosen not to reveal Dana’s last name yet. He wanted Ursula’s unbiased evaluation of her character first. And while he hadn’t talked to Ursula alone, it was obvious the two women clicked. It may have been when Dana offered to make the cornbread, or possibly when she complimented one of Tommy’s whirligigs,
