Free The Way Home by Katherine Spencer Page B

looked pleased to have a helping hand. Jamie pulled the suitcase out with ease and grabbed a canvas tote. He soon got all the bags into the inn, and Claire watched the man follow, sifting through the front pocket of his khaki pants for a tip. She had nearly forgotten. There would be some tips with this post as well. Claire never accepted tips, though they were often offered. But she was sure Jamie would and she saw no harm in that. It was definitely a perk to the job.
    Claire headed for the kitchen with her grocery bags, but Liza stopped her to introduce the guests.
    The Rapps had been at the inn the summer before. They had first come early last summer and liked it so much they returned again in August. This time they had brought their good friends, the Foxes. Both couples appeared to be in their early sixties and very fit. Claire remembered that Mrs. Rapp was a dedicated bird watcher; her binoculars were already strung around her neck.
    Mr. Rapp liked Claire’s cooking. He was a tall, lanky man whose slim waistline belied his large appetite. He rubbed his hands together, anticipating the meals to come. “What’s on the menu for lunch today, Claire? I told the others we couldn’t stop and spoil our appetites.”
    â€œA few things you might enjoy: Rhode Island chowder and a seafood pasta. And some johnnycake. I recall you like that.”
    His eyebrows rose into his hat brim. He quickly turned to his friends. “Claire makes the best johnnycake you ever tasted. She makes the best . . . everything.”
    Claire blushed at the compliment. “Let’s not go overboard. I wouldn’t want your friends to be disappointed.”
    â€œNo chance of that,” Mrs. Rapp assured her.
    Jamie had made another trip to the car and brought up all the Foxes’ luggage as well. He came down the stairs looking a bit breathless, his new shirt already wrinkled. But he was smiling, looking pleased to have completed this first official act.
    â€œThank you, Jamie. I have to save my back for golf,” Mr. Fox said. “I can’t let that old guy beat me every weekend.”
    The two couples went upstairs, laughing at their repartee. Liza and Jamie followed Claire into the kitchen.
    Liza picked up a pad from the kitchen table. “Good to see you again, Jamie. And I was glad to see you jump right in there.”
    Jamie shrugged. “No problem. That’s what I’m here for.”
    â€œOne of your jobs, for sure,” Liza said. “There will be a lot more bags to carry before the weekend is over. I made a list of chores you can work on today. I put a check mark next to the most important. If you can’t get them all done, don’t worry. We get interrupted here a lot.”
    Liza glanced at Claire. “Claire will show you what to do, but you should get settled in now. Your room is on the third floor.”
    â€œI put a navy blue spread on the bed,” Claire added. “It’s at the end of the hall.”
    â€œDo you have any bags?” Liza asked him.
    Jamie nodded. “Out in Claire’s Jeep.”
    â€œThis is a good time to bring them in. There’s a dresser and closet in the room. I think you should find everything you need. Just come down to the kitchen when you’ve unpacked.”
    â€œThanks. I’ll be right back,” he promised.
    After he left, Liza turned to Claire, who had started to rinse off the clams she was going to use for the chowder.
    â€œWell, so far, so good,” Liza said. “He’ll be thrown in the deep end this weekend. I had another call this morning, and that fills the second floor.”
    â€œGood thing you told me. Sounds like I’ll need to stretch this chowder.” Claire always bought a little extra and knew she had enough ingredients. Besides, it wasn’t the amount of clams necessarily but the quality of the broth that made good soup.
    â€œOh, you’re a magician in here. I’m