Page 87 of Fetch Me A Mate
"What kind of promise?" called Edgar from the back.
"The promise that there will always be a place in Hollow Oak where people can find shelter, warmth, and belonging. Where strangers become friends and the lost find their way home."
Miriam picked up a set of keys from the desk, the brass worn smooth by decades of use. "Diana Merrick, these keys have opened doors for countless guests, provided sanctuary for those who needed it, and kept this community's heart beating for forty years."
She placed the keys in Diana's hands with ceremony befitting a crown. "I pass them to you with my blessing, my gratitude, and my absolute confidence that you'll honor the trust they represent."
"Thank you," Diana said simply. "For everything."
"Thank you for accepting the responsibility. For proving that home isn't about where you come from, but where you choose to belong."
Applause filled the lobby, warm and genuine. Callum raised his champagne bottle, catching everyone's attention.
"To Diana and Rowan," he said, his voice carrying the authority of someone used to being heard. "Welcome home, both."
"Welcome home!" echoed through the room as glasses clinked and smiles bloomed.
"Speech!" Tom called out, his camera ready.
"No speeches," Diana laughed. "Just celebration."
"Dance!" Twyla suggested. "We need music and dancing."
"I don't dance," Rowan said immediately.
"Neither do I," Diana added.
"Tonight you do," Kieran declared. "Inn reopenings require at least one dance."
Freya hummed something low and sweet, her voice carrying the magic of growing things and new beginnings. Others joined in, creating harmony that seemed to lift the very air.
Diana looked at Rowan expectantly. "Well?"
"I'm going to be terrible at this."
"I know."
"You're going to laugh."
"Probably."
"And you still want to?"
"Especially because you'll be terrible." Diana held out her hand. "Come on, contractor. Dance with your innkeeper."
Rowan took her hand, drawing her into the small space that had been cleared near the fireplace. He had no idea what he was doing, no sense of rhythm or grace. But Diana fit perfectly in hisarms, and when she laughed at his clumsy attempts to follow the music, the sound was worth any embarrassment.
"You're right," she whispered against his ear. "You're terrible at this."
"Sorry."
"Don't be. I love that you're trying."
They swayed together, not really dancing so much as holding each other while music played around them. The inn hummed with life and laughter, filled with people who'd chosen to call it home.
"Any regrets?" Diana asked as the song wound down.
"About what?"
