Chapter One

Inside!

While sweeping powdered snow from the steps, Alice

Howard paused to adjust the red velvet bow on the

windblown Christmas wreath when something caught her eye.

She watched with interest as a lone figure slowly moved down the

sidewalk. Walking with a slight limp, his head bent low against

the blustering snow, the man didn’t seem familiar. Alice shud-

dered, pulling her flapping fleece jacket. Not a fit day for man or

beast, she could imagine her father saying. And certainly not a

good day for an afternoon stroll.

As the stranger came nearer, she noticed how his rumpled

overcoat appeared lopsided, misbuttoned perhaps, and his shabby

felt hat drooped over his ears. His hunched head and shoulders,

thoroughly draped in snow, only seemed to add to the overall for-

lorn impression. Who was he, and where was he going? Her curi-

osity increased as the man turned onto the inn’s footpath, which

was already in need of shoveling again. Was this poor fellow lost?

Yet the tilt of his chin seemed determined—as if he knew where

he was going and wanted to get there.

She called out a friendly greeting as he reached the inn’s porch

steps. The man looked up in surprise, and Alice could see he was

elderly and that he seemed to be clutching something in his arms.

2

C H A P T E R O N E F RO M

Alice Remembers . . .BY MELODY CARLSON

3

Tufts of brown fur suggested a small animal of some sort, tucked

underneath his raggedy overcoat.

“Hello?” Alice said again. “Can I help you?”

“Is this Grace Chapel Inn?” he demanded in a stern,

gravelly voice.

“Yes, yes, that’s right.” Alice’s smile remained fixed, but she felt

a wave of concern mixed with sympathy. Was this poor old man

destitute? Perhaps he’d assumed Grace Chapel Inn was a homeless

shelter—that had happened before. Even though Acorn Hill was

a bit off the beaten path for indigents, they occasionally passed

through. Not so much in wintertime though.

“Doesn’t look much like an inn to me.” He scowled up at the

tall Victorian house.

“We’re more of a bed-and-breakfast,” she clarified. “Although

we do serve other meals during holidays or for special occasions.”

She wondered if this fellow was hungry. She could offer him a

bite to eat and some bus fare then send him on his way before the

other guests came back.

“Humph.” Leaning against the porch railing, he placed a

snow-encrusted shoe on the first step.

“Can I help you, sir?” she asked for the second time.

“You can let me get out of this blizzard.” He frowned at her. “If

that’s not too much trouble.”

“Yes, of course. Let me lend a hand.” She stepped down, reach-

ing for his elbow as he hobbled up the steps.

“I’m fine,” he growled. “Don’t need your help.”

4

“Please, do come in.” She opened the front door, waiting for

him to enter the spacious foyer. “But I should warn you, sir, if

you’re looking for a room, we have no vacancies at the moment.”

“What do you mean no vacancies?” He stooped down and, ex-

tracting a scruffy little dog from his coat, he set it on the Persian

area rug. “Did I misunderstand you? This is Grace Chapel Inn,

isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is. But our inn is booked throughout the holidays.”

Alice moved behind the reception desk, wishing that Louise

would pop in and confirm that they were indeed full. But her old-

er sister was at the church, playing piano for the children who

were practicing for this weekend’s Christmas pageant. “Is there

some other way I can be of assistance? Perhaps I can call someone

for you?”

“You can show me to my room,” he declared. “I’m cold and

tired and in need of some rest.”

“But I’m trying to explain to you.” Her tone was gentle but

firm. “We are fully booked just now. But perhaps I can call—”

“Are you saying you gave away my room?” he demanded. “Of

all the demented, confounded—”

“I’m sorry. You don’t seem to understand.” She pointed to the

reservation book with frustration. “Our rooms are all full. Or

about to be.” She read Louise’s Post-it note on the front of the

book. “We do have one unoccupied room, but it’s reserved for

a couple.” She knew she was babbling now, but she didn’t know

what else to do. “You see, we expected them to arrive last night,

5

but they didn’t show. It’s possible they might cancel due to the

weather. We haven’t heard from them yet. But Mrs. Grover paid

in advance, and we can’t just give up—”

“I am Mr. Grover.”

“Oh…really?” She grimaced. Despite not liking to be sus-

picious of anyone, Alice knew better than to give in this easily.

Louise would throw a fit if the Grovers’ room was handed over

to a homeless man and his scruffy dog. Even if it was Christmas.

“Isobel—that’s my wife,” the man gruffly declared. “She booked

us a room here for the holidays.”

Alice blinked in confusion. That all sounded right. “I’m terri-

bly sorry, sir. I didn’t realize that. My sister usually handles this.”

She looked toward the door, wondering why he’d come on foot

and why he looked so shabby. “But where is Mrs. Grover?”

“She’s not here.” He fumbled to extract a worn wallet from his

inside coat pocket, holding it out for her to see the driver’s license

encased in a plastic sleeve. “Look at my ID if you don’t believe me.

And I should have the confirmation information here somewhere

too. Isobel made the reservation last January. And she paid in

advance.”

Alice nodded nervously. “Yes, yes, that’s right. My sister men-

tioned that last night. She was worried about why you weren’t

here. And she tried to call you.” She peered at his out-of-state

driver’s license just to make sure he truly was Robert Grover—

and not a crook. How many times had Louise reminded them to

do this with new guests? “Thank you.” She smiled.

6

“Now, please, may I go to my room?”

“Yes, of course. But what about your bags and your—”

“The car broke down yesterday. I had to spend the night in

Pittsburgh. Lousy noisy hotel, never slept a wink. This morn-

ing, thanks to Triple A, I got the car towed to a garage right here

in Acorn Hill.” He pocketed his wallet. “Bags are still in my car.

The mechanic promised to drop them here after work—after five

he said.”

“Oh yes.” Alice nodded. “I’m sure you must be worn out, Mr.

Grover. But what about your—”

“I am exhausted.” He glared at her. “I’d like to go to my room.

Now.”

“Yes, of course.” Alice reached for the brass room key, but as she

stepped out from behind the desk, she still felt uncertain. Where

was his wife? And what about that dog? Had Louise been aware

they were bringing a pet? She hadn’t mentioned it. There would

be an extra cleaning fee—should Alice mention that to him now?

She wished Jane were here to help. More assertive than Alice, her

younger sister was great at resolving prickly situations. But Jane

was off getting groceries at the moment.

“Right this way.” Alice handed him a Grace Chapel Inn bro-

chure that listed their various amenities and helpful information.

“You’ll be staying upstairs. In the Sunset Room.”

“Sunset Room?” He groaned as he stooped to pick up his dog.

“Is that where you put all your elderly guests? For the sunset of

their lives?”

7

“Oh no, it’s not like that at all. It’s just that the room faces west-

ward. And it’s decorated in sunset colors. It’s quite popular in the

wintertime for the afternoon sunshine it usually gets.” She paused

by the staircase. “Can you manage these stairs okay?”

“Yes, of course,” he snapped. “Just takes me longer.”

“Would you like me to carry your dog for you?” she offered.

“So your hands can be free to hold the banister?”

“I suppose that’s wise.” He held the little dog out toward her.

“Don’t want to fall down and break my good leg.”

Alice tried not to wrinkle her nose at the strong canine aro-

ma—such a big smell for such a little dog. “And what’s your

name?” she murmured to the brown pup.

“Mr. Grover!” the man growled at her.

“No, no.” Alice attempted a laugh. “I meant your dog.”

“Oh well. That’s Suzie Q. Silly name, I know. But I didn’t

name her.”

“Nice to meet you, Suzie Q.” Alice tried to hold her breath as

she scurried up the stairs ahead of the cantankerous guest. The

sooner she got him settled into his room, the happier they’d all

be. She unlocked the door for him then handed him the key. “I

assume you’ve read our pet policy and—”

“Yes, yes, my wife handled all that. And don’t worry. Suzie Q is

house-trained and never barks.” He removed his soggy hat. “You

don’t need to concern yourself.” He glanced at the door, as if to

hint it was time for Alice to make herself scarce.

She moved to the doorway then paused. “So, when do you

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expect your wife will be arriving?”

“I don’t,” he snapped. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get

some rest.” He reached for the doorknob and, before she could say

another word, firmly closed the door—practically in her face.

Alice slowly shook her head as she walked back down the

stairs. Unless she was mistaken, Mr. Grover was going to be dif-

ficult—precisely what they did not need during the holidays.

And what about his mysteriously missing wife? Where was Mrs.

Grover? Surely, he hadn’t left the poor woman in Pittsburgh.

Perhaps she was still in town. Maybe she’d gotten weary of his

grumpy attitude and made up an excuse to linger there. She might

be doing some last-minute Christmas shopping, and he’d come

on ahead to secure their room. But why wouldn’t he have sim-

ply explained that? And why had he said he didn’t expect her at

all? Maybe that was just his way of telling Alice to mind her own

business. Whatever the case, Mr. Grover made no sense to her.

No sense at all.

So, what is troubling Mr. Grover?Find out what the Howard sisters discover next!

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