She was out of the bedroom before she'd even closed her phone. The scent of frying bacon met her. And cinnamon. Was Sam making her cinnamon sticky buns this morning? Or maybe she was making baked French toast with pecans and real maple syrup. Suddenly she was hungry. Famished. She felt . . . goodness, she felt amazing! She had so much to tell her sisters and Jamie and George, and she wanted to run on the beach with Max and shout out thank-Yous to G.o.d for answering her prayers.

At long last, Briar Rose was hers. The view of St. James was hers. She could take her walks through the ancient cemetery again without worrying that when she got home there might be a message waiting for her telling her to move out.

She would be the owner of Briar Rose now. It would be all hers.

At last.

And then . . . reality hit.

The inn.

A sudden pain throbbed near her right temple and behind her right eye. It made her dizzy. Her fingers flew to her head, and she tried desperately to ma.s.sage away the pain, but it didn't seem willing to leave. It was going to plague her, as was the decision she had to make.

She walked out into the kitchen and saw Gracie pouring milk into a steaming mug of coffee. Sam was peering into the oven. The whole place smelled sweet and comforting.

She'd been in love with the Briar Rose for ten years. For ten years she'd desperately wanted to buy it. And now . . . there was the Misty Harbor Inn. She wanted it too. It had tugged her into its warm and waiting arms and hugged her close. It was magical. Hypnotic.

She wanted them both; but she had money for only one.

No matter what decision she made, she'd end up hurt. And one decision would hurt her sisters.

Caroline looked at them now. Sam opened the oven door and took out a ca.s.serole dish bubbling with her French toast topped with brown sugar, maple syrup, b.u.t.ter, and pecans. Gracie carried a mug of steaming coffee toward her.

Caroline swallowed hard.

"Is something wrong?" Gracie asked when Caroline took the coffee mug into her shaking hand. "You look awful. Was that your phone ringing earlier? Who on earth calls at this time of the morning?"

"I feel fine. Really." Caroline took a sip of coffee. It was extra strong this morning, and Gracie had loaded it with extra sugar and milk, just as she liked it. It burned her throat on the way down and settled hard in the pit of her stomach.

She pulled out a chair at the table and sat. Setting the coffee cup on the table, she folded her hands in her lap. Her whole body was trembling now. She took yet another deep breath. "That was my landlord who called," she managed to say, even though her throat was terribly parched, "the man who owns Briar Rose."

"Is there a problem?" Sam asked, a worried frown touching her face. "There wasn't a fire, was there? You haven't lost anything?"

"There wasn't a fire. Nothing's wrong with the cottage. In fact"-she sighed-"they've decided to sell it. To me, if I'm still interested."

Sam stared at her. Gracie glared.

"What did you tell him?" Gracie asked, her voice tight. Her gaze was frozen with pent-up anger.

"I didn't tell him anything. Well, I did, I said I'd call him tomorrow."

"Why didn't you just tell him you've had a change of plans?" Sam asked. "Why didn't you tell him about the inn?"

"The inn didn't even cross my mind while I was talking to him. I was too excited. You have to understand," Caroline almost stammered. "This is something I've wanted for ten years."

"And you've only wanted the inn for a week," Gracie said, her voice icy.

"That's enough, Gracie," Sam said. "Caroline didn't expect this call any more than we did. What would you do if you were in her shoes?"

"I certainly wouldn't back out on a deal I'd made with my sisters."

Sam stepped toward Caroline. She put a hand on her shoulder. "I'll understand if you change your mind about the inn." She sighed. "I haven't made any real plans yet. Nothing needs to change. I've got my townhouse and, well-"

Caroline looked up to see Sam biting her lip, more than likely fighting back tears. "I'm sorry, Sam." She looked at Gracie. "I'm sorry."

"Does 'I'm sorry' mean you've made your decision?" Gracie asked. "Is it all that cut-and-dried? You get a call and five minutes later you know that you're going to buy Briar Rose?"

"It's not that easy, Gracie."

"It is easy. You have two choices. Yes or no."

"Neither choice is easy." Caroline looked at both her sisters. She was ready to cry, and wished she could see a touch of understanding in either of their faces. But she didn't. "I told the owner I'd call back later today or tomorrow with my answer."

"As far as I'm concerned, you can call him back right now and give him your answer. Tell him yes, you'll buy Briar Rose, because-" Gracie dragged in a deep breath. "I've had it, Caroline. If you want it to be an easy decision for you to make, I'll make it easy for you. I'm out of the deal for the inn. Sam, call Deborah and withdraw our offer."

"I can't do that, Gracie," Sam said, and Caroline couldn't miss the tears that slid down her sister's face. "I don't want to do that."

"Then you'll have to do it alone," Gracie said, a moment before throwing open the front door, ready to storm out of the cottage. "I've had enough."

Caroline didn't need to sit inside a church to talk with G.o.d. She could have curled up under the covers in her bed and had a conversation with Him there, but she'd needed to get away from the house. She needed a place of refuge-a sanctuary. She found it inside Harvest Chapel, sitting on a wooden pew in the old church building.

She'd called George, tearing him away from an important meeting, and as she talked, she could almost feel him holding her hand. He'd said very little when she'd told him Briar Rose could finally be hers. He'd always be her shoulder to cry on, her rock if she needed someone strong. But he wouldn't and couldn't interfere. "This is your decision," he'd said. "Only you know what's in your heart."

Unfortunately, her heart and head were overflowing with confusion. She had to make a decision, she just didn't know what that decision should be. Please, G.o.d, she prayed. Show me the way.

She hurt inside, not for herself, but for what she'd done to her sisters. Her uncertainty-her selfishness?-had put a wedge between herself and Gracie. Sam hadn't been able to look at her either; she'd left the house, taking Max with her, and headed who knows where.

Caroline shivered. She knew all too well that she was destined to suffer, no matter what choice she made. But Gracie and Sam didn't deserve to suffer too. She'd prodded them, coaxed them, talked about the magic of the inn until they, too, fell under its spell. Then wham! She'd burst their bubble.

I don't want to hurt them, Lord, but how can I give up my dream?

She pulled a hymnal from its rack in front of her and let it fall open. She wasn't looking for anything in particular. She hoped any words would bring her comfort.

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,

When sorrows like sea billows roll.

Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,

It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Right this moment she didn't feel like all was well with her soul. She could either hurt her sisters or hurt herself; it didn't seem like much of a choice.

"Good morning, Caroline."

She looked up from the hymnal and saw Pastor Wildes standing at the end of the pew, smiling warmly, the light beaming through the stained-gla.s.s window sprinkling colors over his khaki pants, his pale blue polo shirt, and the gold cross he wore on a leather chain around his neck.

Somehow she smiled. "Good morning."

"Mind if I join you?"

Caroline shook her head, and Pastor Wildes slid down the pew and sat at her side. "You look a little troubled. Anything I can do to help?"

"Oh, I don't know." She shrugged. "Probably." She sighed deeply and told him her tale.

"St. James is, indeed, a lovely church, and Chipping Campden is far and away one of my favorite hamlets in the Cotswolds."

"You've been there?"

"On a vacation a few years ago. One of those bus tours with thirty or so other baby boomers. Next time I'll be bold and rent a car and risk driving on those narrow lanes that wind through the English countryside." He chuckled, the sound echoing about the hallowed halls of his church. "Nice people on those tours, but once they set to bickering, you feel like the devil's taken over and is wending his way toward the underworld."

"I've been on a few of those trips myself. They're not all that way, but every once in a while, you get stuck on a real doozie."

"And a doozie appears to be what you're caught up in now, I'd say."

"I don't remember ever feeling so miserable. I just wish I knew what to do."

"There's a little something I like to remind my congregants of when they get into a pickle like this. A little something from Matthew that you've probably heard more than once in your lifetime."

"What is it, Pastor?"

"'In everything, do to others what you would have them do to you.'" he said, his voice filled with warmth and compa.s.sion. "It's the good old Golden Rule, and wise words to live by."

"I told you this would happen," Gracie said. Sam and Gracie were walking along the beach. Max ran in and out of the surf, chasing seagulls and tugging on seaweed that had washed up on the sh.o.r.e. "I knew this pipe dream would burst."

"It hasn't burst completely," Sam said, feeling so downhearted she could easily bury her head in the sand for the next few days and hide from the world. But she was trying to hold on to the faith she had in Caroline. "First off, I didn't call Deborah and tell her to pull our offer. Second, Caroline hasn't decided that she's moving back to England."

Gracie sighed. "I was angry when I told you to call Deborah. I'm glad you didn't. But Caroline will go back to England. You didn't know her the way I did when we were growing up. I've tried to tell you, Sam, but you refuse to look at the side of Caroline that causes chaos when you least expect it."

"Chaos might be a bit too strong of a word, don't you think?"

Gracie kicked at the sand. "Possibly." She grabbed a small piece of driftwood and threw it out for Max to retrieve. "But as far as I'm concerned, she should buy Briar Rose and go back to England."

"I don't believe you."

"We do nothing but argue."

"That might be all you see, but I see something else completely. I've watched the two of you grow closer in the past two weeks. I've watched you laugh and cry together, over big things and small, even over an old black-and-white movie."

"That's only natural. We're sisters, but we've never-"

"Don't you dare tell me you've never been close." Sam dropped down on the beach, drew her knees up to her chest, and wrapped her arms around her legs. Gracie sat beside her, a little slower, her knees creaking slightly. "Do you really want her to go back to England?"

"Heavens no. I want to be a family again." Gracie sighed heavily. "That's why this whole thing is making me mad. She claims she wants to be around family again too. She claims she's missed us, that she wishes she hadn't been away so long. If that's the case, why didn't she tell her English landlord to get lost?" She brushed the palms of her hands sharply. "Just like that."

"Because it's not easy to lose something-or someone-you love. You know that."

"Oh, Sam. It's a cottage in the Cotswolds. It doesn't have a heart and soul, not like Art."

"But you don't want to give up your home in Portland. Art's still in every room. You feel him when you're there. That house is almost like one of your children. That cottage might feel pretty much the same way to Caroline. You shouldn't judge her so harshly, Gracie, unless you've walked in her shoes."

"She's had an easy life."

"You don't know that any more than I do."

Gracie shrugged. "I suppose I don't. I just don't want to see you hurt, and every day I've seen you become more and more attached to the inn. If Caroline doesn't stay here, if she doesn't put in her third of the cost, there's no way you can buy it on your own. There's no way even you and I can buy it. We need Caroline."

"She'll come around," Sam said, gazing out over the waves. "Just wait and see."

Gracie wished she had as much confidence in Caroline.

Anyone want to put together a jigsaw puzzle?" Caroline said when Sam, Gracie, and Max returned. The cottage had been empty when she'd gotten back from her visit to Harvest Chapel two hours earlier. Neither Gracie nor Sam had left her a note saying where they'd gone. She'd spent the last couple of hours alone, and something told her that even though her sisters were back, she was going to feel even more alone.

"This puzzle is right up your alley, Sam. Two thousand pieces and nothing but parrots in all different colors. It could be a challenge to put together."

"Thanks," Sam said, heading straight for the cabinet in the kitchen where they'd stored a bottle of aspirin, "but I've got a horrendous headache. Think I'll just close my eyes a bit and see if it'll go away."

Caroline flopped down on the sofa. "It's awfully pretty outside," she said, aiming her words toward Gracie, who'd already picked up a book she'd been reading and curled up in a chair beneath the sunny window. "Would you like to go for a walk with me? A bike ride? Or maybe go down to the beach and build a sand castle?"

"Not right now," Gracie said, without looking up from her book. "I want to finish this before dinner tonight. Sam and I decided to try a place called the Lobster Claw. You're welcome to join us if you want."

All of a sudden she felt like a fifth wheel. A pariah. It was pretty much the same way she'd felt when she'd left home the first time. Her parents couldn't give her their blessing. They'd wanted her to go to college, to get married, to have babies, and she wanted none of it. She just wanted to experience life. They'd barely said a word to her the day before she left with all her important belongings in one small bag. That was over forty years ago, and that day still hurt.

"I guess Max and I will go for a walk." Caroline hoped someone would say something, but Gracie had clammed up and Sam sat in her chair, her eyes closed, ma.s.saging her temples. "Why don't you go ahead and do dinner without me tonight. There's a deli on Main that has chicken salad sandwiches, and I've been craving one. Max and I might drop by there. They might even serve doggie cookies."

Still nothing. No comment. No smile. No acknowledgment whatsoever.

Caroline tried to swallow the knot that had formed in her throat, but it seemed permanently stuck.

"Come on, Max." Caroline grabbed the leash that hung just inside the coat closet door and snapped it on to his collar. "I think we'll head over to the wharf and check out the shops. Is there anything you guys need or want?"

"Can't think of a thing," Gracie said, her nose still in her book. "Have fun."

Caroline didn't bother to say good-bye. She didn't have the heart to hear nothing in return.

She kept her eyes on the slate sidewalk as they made their way past the row of shingled cottages. Max stopped to sniff the flowers bursting out from behind a white picket fence a few houses down, but Caroline tugged his leash and kept walking toward the corner.

She was halfway down the block, with Max scampering at her side, when Sam caught up with her. "Gracie's a little upset right now."