“I love what you’ve done with the guest rooms,” Lillian said. “Very spacious and airy.” She opened the French doors of the corner suite and stepped out onto the balcony. “Fabulous views, too. “

Her sister, Hannah, glanced around the suite with satisfaction and then followed Lillian outside into the chilly evening.

“It wasn’t cheap getting plumbing into all of the rooms,” she said. “And installing balcony doors in each one was a major project but I think it will be worth it. Considering what we plan to charge for an overnight stay here at Dreamscape, Rafe and I have to be able to provide our guests with privacy and a sense of luxury.”

Lillian wrapped one hand around the railing. “You and Rafe are going to do it, aren’t you? You’re going to make this inn and restaurant idea work.”

Hannah looked amused. “You had doubts?”

“No, not really. You’re both so committed to making a success of this venture that I knew you couldn’t fail.”

“We owe it all to Great-Aunt Isabel.” Hannah smiled. “Although I must admit that when I first learned that she had left a half-interest in Dreamscape to Rafe in her will, I didn’t feel quite so grateful.”

Lillian looked out across the bay. Night was closing in rapidly. The wind was picking up, bringing with it the unmistakable scent of rain off the sea. Another storm was approaching. She had always loved this time of year here on the rugged Oregon coast. The stark contrasts of the season appealed to the artist in her. The dark, blustery storms drove away the summer tourists, leaving the town to the locals.

The shops on the pier and the handful of small, casual eateries geared down for the long, quiet months. In summer the establishments were crowded with vacationers from Portland and Seattle. But when you went out to dinner in winter, you usually knew the folks sitting at the next table. If you didn’t recognize them, they were probably students at nearby Chamberlain College or visitors attending a seminar at the Eclipse Bay Policy Studies Institute. The think tank and the school were both located on the hillside overlooking the tiny town.

When they blew ashore, the wind-driven rains of winter churned the waters of the bay, created boiling cauldrons in the coves and lashed the weather-beaten cottages on the cliffs. The squalls were often separated by periods of bright, chilly sunlight and crisp, intensely clear air. There was an energy in winter that was very different from the moody, atmospheric, fog-bound summers, she thought.

The evening was still clear. From her perch on the balcony she could see straight across the curving expanse of the semi-circular bay to where a cluster of lights marked the location of the small town and the marina. Another string of lights identified the pier.

The sweeping arc of Bayview Drive followed the edge of the rocky beach. The road started just outside of town near Hidden Cove, which marked the northern tip of the bay. It linked the tiny community to the beach houses and cottages scattered loosely about on the bluffs. It continued past her parents’ summer place and beyond Dreamscape, to terminate at Sundown Point, the bay’s southern boundary.

It was a familiar landscape, Lillian reflected, one she had known all of her life. She had not spent a lot of time here in recent years, but that did not affect the strong sense of connection that had swept through her earlier this afternoon when she drove into town.

For three generations Hartes had been a part of this community. Their roots went deep here; as deep as those of the Madison men.

She hugged herself against the brisk night air. “Aunt Isabel knew all along that you and Rafe were meant for each other.”

“If that’s true, she was certainly the only one who knew it.” Hannah shook her head. “Personally, I think it’s far more likely that she just hoped to goodness we were meant for each other. It was her dream to resolve the feud. She saw Rafe and me as Romeo and Juliet with the right ending. She left us Dreamscape in an effort to make her fantasy of reconnecting the Hartes and the Madisons come true.”

“Either way, it worked out for you and Rafe.”

“Maybe she had a touch of your gift for matchmaking,” Hannah said lightly. “Could be it runs in the family.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Okay, Lil, what’s going on here? Don’t get me wrong, I’m delighted to see you. I think it’s great that you’ve decided to take some time off from work. But this is your sister, Hannah, remember? I know you haven’t given me the whole story.”

There was no point trying to evade the questions, Lillian thought. Hannah knew her too well. They had always been close even though they were different in so many ways. Hannah was nearly two years younger but she had always been the more levelheaded and goal-oriented of the two. Hannah was the one who had always known where she was going; at least that had been the general opinion in the Harte family until she had stunned everyone by announcing that she intended to marry Rafe Madison and turn Dreamscape into an inn.

True to form, however, even that uncharacteristically wild decision had turned out to be a sound one. It was obvious that Rafe and Hannah were happy together and that they would make a success of the inn.

“I closed Private Arrangements,” Lillian said.

Hannah looked bemused. “For a few days? A couple of weeks? A month?”

“For good.”

Hannah took a long moment to absorb and process that announcement.

Then she gave a low, soft, tuneless whistle.

“Oh, my,” she said.

“I know.”

“Just when Mom and Dad were getting used to the idea of you being a professional matchmaker.”

“I’m not sure they would ever have come around completely, anyway.” Lillian sighed. “They still have a hard time telling their friends what I do for a living. In their minds my matchmaking enterprise was always a little suspect. Not nearly as respectable as that wedding consultant agency you owned before you decided to go into the inn business.”

“Okay, I’ll agree that Mom and Dad thought the whole thing was a little flaky, but you weresuccessful. They couldn’t deny that. You have an impressive list of clients. All those new, wealthy software folks love the idea of computerized matchmaking. You were turning a serious profit and that counts for a lot in this family.”

“If Mom and Dad think matchmaking is flaky, I can’t wait to hear what they’ll say about my next career move.”

“Well?” Hannah tilted her head slightly. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”

“It’s a long story.”

“I want to hear every word of it.” Hannah paused when a set of headlights turned into the drive that led toward Dreamscape. “But I’m afraid the tale will have to wait. Here comes dinner.”

The low growl of a powerful, finely tuned engine rumbled in the gathering night. Lillian watched the sleek Porsche prowl down the drive.

The vehicle came to a halt near the inn’s main entrance. The engine went silent. The door on the driver’s side opened. Hannah’s husband, Rafe, got out, moving with the easy masculine grace that characterized all the Madison males.

A dapper salt-and-pepper Schnauzer jumped out of the open car door after him. The dog paused and looked up toward the balcony.

“Hello, Winston,” Lillian called down. “You’re as handsome as ever.”

Winston bounced a little in refined appreciation of what he obviously considered no more than his due. Then he trotted briskly up the steps and disappeared under the overhanging roof.

Rafe retrieved two grocery sacks from the interior of the car.

“About time you guys got home,” Hannah said to him. “We were starting to wonder if the two of you had stopped off at the Total Eclipse for a beer and a fast game of pool.”

Rafe nudged the door of the Porsche closed and looked up. He gave Hannah and Lillian the patented Madison smile, all rakish charm and a promise of trouble to come.