Page 32 of Finding Home at Hearts Hotel

"No, thank you," Anna answered, her voice carrying a slightly gruff, raspy edge.

Linda frowned, noticing the dazed, luminous look lingering in her aunt's dark eyes. It was an expression of shock, as though the older woman had just stepped out of a dense fog and into a brilliant, blinding light. "Are you sure you're doing okay? Did my uncle do something, or did he say something about the divorce petition?"

"I'm fine," Anna replied to the immediate concerns first, her tone softening as she offered a small, reassuring wave of her hand. "And yes, George did react to the discovery papers."

Linda's heart gave an unruly, hard lurch against her ribs, and her gaze flickered instantly toward the two nurses sitting at the marble counter. Brock and Stuart had stopped their chatter, both of them casually sipping their coffee from their thick mugs while watching the family drama unfold in front of them with wide, curious eyes.

"Okay," Linda said, her brow creasing into a deeper line of worry as she leaned her elbows against the marble island. "Can you tell me what happened? Is he okay?"

"George is fine," Anna said, and a bright, radiant smile spread across her face, turning so bright that Linda flinched back in sheer, happy surprise. "He and I are so okay that there is actually going to be a third major announcement at the welcome-home dinner tonight."

"So it's welcome home for my uncle, Michael and Maggie's formal engagement announcement, and..." Linda quipped, her lips curving into a dry, knowing smile as she adjusted a stack of paper napkins.

"And as soon as Maggie and Michael are back from their honeymoon trip in a couple of months' time," Anna explained, her voice sounding deeply emotional as she walked over to the stainless-steel refrigerator and pulled out two cold bottles of ice water, "George and I will be renewing our vows to officially restart our marriage."

The kitchen went deadly quiet for a few heartbeats.

Three sets of eyes gaped at Anna in stunned, silent shock. Brock’s mug remained frozen halfway to his mouth, while Stuart sat still, his eyes wide behind his glasses as the sheer scale of the revelation registered in the room.

Linda was the very first to recover from the silence. A rush of pure, golden joy flooded her chest, and she flew around the edge of the marble island toward her aunt, wrapping her arms tightly around the older woman in a fierce, emotional hug.

"I'm so incredibly glad," Linda whispered, leaning back slightly to press a lingering kiss against her aunt's cheek. "I think deep down inside, I always knew the two of you would eventually find your way back to each other."

Within seconds, Brock and Stuart were out of their stools, their professional boundaries wholly melting away as they wrapped Anna in a pair of supportive hugs, their happy congratulations echoing off the copper pots hanging from the ceiling.

"But just like we are keeping a tight lid on the engagement announcement until later this evening," Anna warned them, her voice steadying as she wiped a single, happy tear from her lashes, "George and I would like to keep a lid on this news as well. We have zero desire to take any of the attention or the celebration away from Maggie and Michael tonight."

"We'll keep the secret safe," Stuart promised with a broad, supportive nod as he set his coffee mug down.

"We will," Brock agreed, his face bright with a genuine, boyish happiness. "Your secret is safe with us until you’re ready to tell it."

Linda watched her aunt adjust the collar of her blouse, her heart feeling incredibly full. For the first time in so many years, the dark, heavy clouds that had hung over the Heart family tree were parting, letting the bright, golden summer sun shine through to their future.

Sitting back against the counter, Linda let her mind drift, her thoughts turning to the beautiful, unyielding resilience of love. It was a miracle, really. She looked out the window toward the glittering expanse of the bay, watching the gentle waves lap against the shoreline where she had spent her childhood. Her family had survived so much heartache, so many years of stubborn silence and prideful division. Her uncle had locked his heart away in a private prison of regret, while Aunt Anna had carried her own silent grief through the academic halls of Charleston.

Yet, under the magic sky of Sweet Blossom Bay, the broken pieces were finally being gathered and mended. Michael had found his second chance at true happiness with Maggie, her uncle had found his way back into the arms of the only woman he had ever loved, and even she...

Linda's pulse gave a rapid leap as an image of Darius's handsome, sincere face flashed behind her eyes. She thought of their walks along the shoreline, the strength of his hands, and the unhurried, gentle way he had looked at her when he promised to help save her family's home. He was a Wayne, andshe was a Heart, and the corporate forces of their families were supposed to be locked in a hostile, unyielding battle. Yet, as she stared out at the gold-dusted water, she knew with unshakeable certainty that the bay had its own plans for them. It was a place of healing, a sanctuary that adopted the people meant to be here and gathered them back under its shelter.

She took a slow, deep breath, a profound, lasting peace settling deep inside her. The welcoming party on the back deck was about to begin, the first guests would be arriving at the hotel gates soon, and for the first time in so many years, Linda felt fully, beautifully ready to face the future.

LINDA

The tepid breath of the late summer evening settled quietly over the back garden of the Heart House, painting the weathered cedar shingles of the historic home in long, amber sweeps of light. The spacious lawn, which sloped gently toward the glittering expanse of the bay, was alive with the bright, cheerful hum of laughter and constant chatter. Lanterns had been hung from the sturdy branches of the ancient oaks, their bulbs beginning to glow as the twilight deepened.

Linda stood near the edge of the terrace, her eyes shining with a deep, emotional relief as she watched the crowd gathered around her uncle. George sat proudly in a padded armchair beneath the shade of the veranda, his walker resting within arm's reach. He was surrounded by a dense circle of lifelong neighbors, local shopkeepers, and old friends of the hotel, all of them taking turns to clasp his hand, offer welcomes, and celebrate his return to the key. He looked happy, his weathered face creased with a genuine, bright smile that chased away the lingering shadows of his long hospital stay.

The sheer volume of guests had wholly caught them off guard, but the community was determined to show the old man just how much his presence was valued. Between Rosa, Linda, and Chef, the kitchen and terrace had turned into a fast-paced, frantic coordinate of hospitality. They were rushing back and forth, carrying heavy silver platters laden with fresh crab cakes, miniature lobster rolls, and peach tarts, while ensuring the large glass pitchers of sweet tea, fresh lemonade, and chilled white wine were continuously topped up.

"We need more of the savory tarts on the main table," Rosa whispered, her face slightly flushed from the heat of the ovens as she hurried past Linda with an empty tray. "And I think the cooler near the rose garden is running low on ice."

"I'll handle the tarts," Linda promised, wiping a light bead of sweat from her forehead with the back of her wrist before heading toward the double glass doors of the kitchen.

She managed to slide the heavy tray onto the stainless-steel counter, her shoulders dropping as the cool, air-conditioned air of the house wrapped around her. Needing a quick moment to wash her hands and freshen up before facing the crowd again, she slipped down the quiet central hallway toward the downstairs bathroom.

Once she had splashed some cool water on her face and smoothed her hair back, Linda stepped back out into the corridor. She adjusted the collar of her linen blouse, preparing to plunge back into the busy hum of the party. But before her sneakers could take more than a few steps toward the kitchen threshold, a strong, familiar pair of arms reached out from the shadows of the home office doorway.

Before she could let out a gasp, the hands caught her gently but securely around the waist, pulling her straight into the dim sanctuary of the room. The heavy oak door clicked shut behind them, sealing out the distant clatter of glasses and laughter from the garden.