Matched by Moonlight

“One more personal question?”

She eyed him warily. “That depends on what it is.”

“Is there a Mr. Kinley?” The answer to this question, of course, was more relevant than his professional ethics to whether he would continue flirting with her. He might be somewhat lax in his work habits, especially compared with what he’d seen of Kinley thus far, but he wasn’t a jerk.

“Not anymore, there isn’t.” She changed the subject with a firmness that told him there was a lot more to that story. “What else would you like to know about the inn?”

Sensing the invisible barrier she’d just erected between them on that personal topic, he obligingly backed off. “Tell me more about the inn’s history. You said your mother’s uncle inherited it from his father, the original owner.”

Looking relieved to be back on topic, Kinley nodded and spoke more comfortably. “Yes. My great-grandfather Finley had two sons, Leo and my mother’s father, Stuart. Stuart died when my mother was just a toddler. Her mother wasn’t interested in staying in Virginia, so she moved back to Tennessee to be closer to her own family. My grandmother remarried and settled down in the Knoxville area. She had two more children with no biological connection to the inn. Every summer during her childhood and teen years, my mother came back here to Virginia to stay with her paternal grandparents and with Uncle Leo and Aunt Helen, who were all running the inn together during that time. When Mom’s grandfather died, he left the inn to Uncle Leo, who had been running it almost exclusively for several years by that time.”

“And your great-uncle, who had no children of his own, kept it in the family by leaving it to his niece’s kids when he passed.”

She nodded in approval that he’d followed along. “Yes.”

“It’s great that you have that connection to your family’s past. I’m sure your mother would have been very proud of what you and your sister and brother have accomplished in the past two and a half years.”

He’d spoken somewhat artlessly and almost immediately second-guessed his words, hoping she didn’t take them as patronizing. But she seemed pleased, instead, by the sentiment, seeming to sense his sincerity.

“I think she would be proud,” she said quietly. “Uncle Leo, too.

Dan reached for his tea glass. “Must be a nice feeling. Knowing your parents are proud of you, I mean.”

She cocked her head, and he wondered if she’d heard more in his offhanded comment than he’d intended to reveal. “Are your parents still living?”

“Yes.” He saw no need to elaborate just then about his father’s rapidly failing health, nor to go into details about his strained relationship with them.