Oh, quick note - there's a spot in here where I've tried to capture a bit of traditional New England accent... it's not meant to be spoken as drawn-out as it looks... it just kind of flows on its own.

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Chapter 3: Settling Inn

The Inn, Bed & Breakfast
Camden, Maine
Saturday, 6 am

"You folks blew in early." Ruth Alley was a typical "Down-Easter;" stating the obvious was a ubiquitous conversation starter. Myles' New England upbringing had taught him it was also a subtle question.

"We did," he replied easily. "This is the first weekend both my wife and I have had off since our wedding, so we each claimed a couple of vacation days and started driving yesterday afternoon. We decided it was time for a proper honeymoon." He ignored the look Tara was covertly giving him.

The older lady smiled. "Well, you all are in luck, then. There won't be much to distract you from each other; big snowstorm coming down from Canada. Supposed to hit some time this afternoon, last two, three days. Hear tell it dumped four feet on Toronto before it moved on."

Tara's expression held a touch of concern, and she laid a hand on Myles' arm; only he caught the twinkle in her eye. "I guess we'd better find a market nearby before it hits, then. This is a bed and breakfast, after all." Now she grinned at him mischievously. "And even you can't put away enough at a sitting to last you all day."

He gave her a look. "Remind me again why I married you," he quipped with a chuckle.

Ruth laughed heartily at the exchange. "Now, dearie," she said to Tara, "there's no need for that. It's off-season, and you're the first guests we've had since Christmas. You're welcome to share what we have. Besides, the way they're predicting this storm, I'll wager the market's about cleaned out."

"Your hospitality is appreciated greatly," Myles replied. "If there's anything we can do to help you prepare for this storm, please let us know."

The lady eyed him for a moment; when she spoke again, her accent had deepened considerably. "Ay-uh, that we will, and thank you kindly. You might be registered as bein' from the Capitol, but my ee-ahs tell me diff'rent. You, young man, ah from Beantown."

He chuckled again, and shocked Tara completely by matching Ruth's drawl perfectly, right down to the rhythm of it. "Yo-ah ee-ahs tell you rightly, but I spent many a summah down at Old O-ah-chahd Beach. And it's wicked goo-ud to be back DownEast, yessah." How he managed to rattle it off so smoothly was beyond Tara.

Ruth laughed again and handed him a room key. "You young folks can have our one suite. Since it's off-season, and I have a soft spot for honeymooners, I won't charge you the extra for it. It looks out on both the bay and a beautiful old house next door. I understand a young man just bought it with plans to fix it up."

Myles exchanged a lightning glance with Tara. Jones.

"If you want to get settled, breakfast will be ready in about an hour. I can have Cal come help you with your bags if you want."

"That's okay," Tara replied. "We packed kind of light for this trip."

The knowing twinkle in the old woman's eyes made Tara blush clear to her toes as she realized the implications of her statement in the context of their cover. But Ruth simply smiled and said, "All right, then. I'll be in the kitchen when you all get settled."

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Myles was trying very hard not to laugh as they dropped their luggage in the room.

Tara was shaking her head, her cheeks still a bit pink. "Oh, knock it off. This is all your fault, you know."

Now the beginning of a chuckle escaped him, even as he tried to look insulted. "My fault? How, pray tell?"

"You and that 'time for a proper honeymoon' cover story. Honestly…" But she was starting to laugh now as well. "And what was all that about 'Old O-a-chahd Beach' or whatever? I could hardly understand you."

"Oh, that." He sat down on the sofa in the "sitting room area" that garnered the room a "suite." "That was all true. We used to have a cottage near Old Orchard Beach where we'd spend a couple of weeks every summer. Anne and I had a running competition going to try to see which of us could better fool the 'natives' into believing we weren't 'from away,' as the phrase is here. I would sit for hours, literally, on the boardwalk there by the carnival, listening to the shop owners talk, trying to pick up not only the unique vernacular, but the rhythm of the dialect. It's completely unique. I've heard DownEast described as a cross between a British and a Southern accent."

"Ah. Well, we'd best 'get settled.' I have a feeling Ruth's likely to come after us if we don't show up in the kitchen shortly, honeymooners or not. And I'm hungry."

"This is the same woman who just accused me of gluttony? What's wrong with this picture?" he called over his shoulder as she went to hang her garment bag in the closet.

The only reply he got was a wicked grin and a small pillow thrown at him from off the bed.

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"Mrs. Alley, those popovers were a taste of childhood." Myles leaned back in his chair and accepted another cup of coffee from the innkeeper.

"And I've never had them before," Tara added with a smile, reaching for another of the light, fluffy breads. "They're wonderful."

Ruth smiled at them both. "You're quite welcome, and it's Ruth, please."

"She's the best cook in these parts." Calvin Alley's accent was deeper than his wife's. "How'd a Boston boy end up in Washington, anyway? Politician?" He eyed Myles warily.

The Harvard grad laughed. "No. I'm a banker, and my wife's a computer programmer. My family used to summer up here when I was in grammar school, and I wanted to show Tara the area. I'd forgotten how beautiful it was."

Tara caught on, somehow, and added, "He also told me he'd forgotten how much work his grandfather used to have him doing when he was at their house on the Cape. Especially when it came time to get the house ready for winter."

Cal eyed Myles again, this time with a much more considering expression on his face. "Ruth tells me you offered to help us batten down. I could use some help getting some more firewood loaded down in the cellar, so it'll stay dry."

"Certainly. Let me run upstairs and change into more appropriate clothes, and I'd be happy to help."

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