Reining Her In

by Katie Ashley

  It was for him and his memory that I dove deep to harvest a reserve of strength I didn’t realize I had. Although teary, I stood behind the oak pulpit at my father’s church and delivered Papa’s eulogy without breaking down. In fact, I kept my emotions in check until after the burial. I even managed to get through lunch in the fellowship hall of Dad’s church without losing it.

  But when I was finally alone in my childhood bedroom, it was as if the walls I’d been hiding behind came toppling down, and I was completely and thoroughly exposed. With nowhere left to hide, I finally allowed myself to cry.

  A gentle knock at the door interrupted me easily an hour later. It was Mom. Without speaking, she came in and eased down on my bed. When she opened her arms, I fell into them. The same scene had been repeated the day of my wedding.

  After everyone left and I was finally alone, the floodgates had opened. Mom had come to my room that night and held me until I drifted off to sleep.

  After sitting in silence for a few minutes, Mom pushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “When are you planning on going back to Atlanta?”

  It didn’t slip my notice that in spite of me being gone for ten years, she still failed to call Atlanta home. In her eyes, Hayesville would always be home. “The hospital told me to take the week.”

  Mom stared knowingly into my eyes. “But you won’t do that.”

  I shook my head. “I figured I would go back on Wednesday.” I probably would have left today if I didn’t think my parents needed my help going through some of Papa’s things.

  “Since Quinton and Becca are going back to work on Wednesday, your father and I thought it would be best to have the will read tomorrow.”

  A wry smile curved on my lips. “The town gossips will say we aren’t wasting any time burying Papa one day and reading his will the next.”

  Mom laughed. “They can talk all they want. We’ve had some church members whose families read the will while they were still on life support.”

  Tsking, I replied, “Vultures.”

  “I would agree.”

  “What time were you guys thinking?”

  “Mason set aside time for us tomorrow at ten.”

  Mason Zeller had been our family attorney for years. Not that he had had to handle anything salacious in our family other than wills and the partnership papers when Papa took on Hank Kisick to help him with his patients.

  “As much as I would rather skip it, I’ll be there,” I said.

  “Good. I’ll let your father know.” Instead of rising off the bed, Mom took my hand in hers. “With all the business of mourning, I haven’t had the chance to speak to about Declan.”

  I groaned. “I would prefer we didn’t.”

  “Not even what happened at the funeral home?” Mom pursed her lips at me. “I can assure you I didn’t appreciate having to hear from some of the church busybodies how my daughter kneed her ex fiancé in the…”

  Of course, she couldn’t bring herself to say balls. When we were growing up, Mom never cursed. Instead, she spelled it. Like we really knew we were in trouble for something when would threaten to beat our a-s-s.

  Since I let my cursing flow freely, I had no trouble helping her out. “Balls.”

  Wincing, she replied, “Yes. Those.”

  “I’m sorry you had to hear it from other people. I just couldn’t bring myself to expend the energy to tell you about it.”

  “Did you really have to get so violent with him?”

  I rolled my eyes to stare at the ceiling for a moment. “Don’t you mean why did I have to be so vulgar?”

  “Well, yes, that too,” Mom replied, as she fretted with the hem of her skirt.

  As minister’s wife, I suppose I couldn’t fault Mom too much for being mortified that her daughter nailed a guy in the balls with a bevy of witnesses. It wasn’t lady-like in the least, which my mother prided herself on being. Besides pushing a strong background of education, Mom wanted Becca and me to be ladies.

  “It was warranted under the circumstances.” Before she could protest, I held up my hand, “Yes, I realize we were taught that it should only be used in self-defense. In my case, I was using it as an emotional self-defense tool.” My mind flashed to Declan smacking my ass. “And somewhat physically as well.”

  Mom gasped before sputtering, “D-Did he make a p-pass at you?”

  “He was removing the dirt from my backside.” When Mom furrowed her brows in confusion, I explained, “From when we fell off the porch into the bushes.”

  “I see.” The corners of her lips quirked up. “One might argue he was being somewhat chivalrous.”

  “Oh yeah, he’s a real gentleman.” With a wink, I then quoted one of our favorite movies Steel Magnolias. “I’m sure he takes the dishes out of the sink before he pees in it.”

  Mom giggled. “You’re terrible.”

  “He’s terrible.”

  Tilting her head, Mom asked, “He didn’t even apologize?”

  “Well, yeah, he did, but—”

  “He wasn’t sincere?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  A forlorn expression came over Mom’s face. “I hate to hear that. I was hoping that once you saw him again, things would go back to the way they once were, and you would be okay with coming back to Hayesville.

  I reached out to take Mom’s hand in mine. “Regardless of my less than stellar reunion with Declan, I will come back to Hayesville.”

  Her brows disappeared into her salt and pepper hairline. “You will?”

  With a nod, I replied, “It’s time to put the past in the past.” It was time for me to see my family more, because if there is one thing I’m certain of now, it’s this. You never know how long you’ll have with those you love. Most of all, I’d spent far too long letting the ghost of Declan affect me.

  “Oh Peyton, you don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that.”

  “Now I’m not saying I’ll be here every weekend, but I’ll come back for more than just the holidays.”

  Mom held up her free hand. “I’ll take whatever I can get.”

  Warmth overcame my chest at Mom’s reaction. It was good to be the recipient of such love. Mom broke the moment by rising up off the bed. “It’s getting late. I better go and let you get some rest.”

  “Thanks, Mom. You know, for everything.”

  She smiled. “You’re welcome.” When she got to the door, she turned back to me. “Maybe if I play my cards just right, I can get you to move back here.”

  I snorted. “Don’t hold your breath on that one.”

  With a wink, she replied, “We’ll just have to wait and see.”

  After Mom left me, I took a quick shower before collapsing into a deep sleep. The past grueling couple of days had drained me of energy, and I ended up sleeping until almost nine thirty. Like my former teenage self, Mom had to rouse me from bed. The one bright spot in all the sadness and grief was having someone to look after me again. It wasn’t that I really needed looking after per se, but having someone who loved me unconditionally made me feel less alone. Not only was she my alarm clock, but she also did my laundry without me asking. Maybe I would start coming home more often.

  I slid into the backseat of Mom and Dad’s Buick to ride along with them to Mason’s office. Rebecca and Quinton were waiting on us when we arrived. Our somber group was then ushered down the hall to an office with an enormous oval table.

  Like most of the people in Hayesville, Mason hadn’t changed much in the last ten years. There was a little more silver in his blond hair, and a slight bulge of his stomach that hadn’t been there previously. Once we had taken our seats, he slid a pair of reading glasses on. “This shouldn’t take long. It’s just one of the many facets of the business of death.”

  Papa’s possessions were laid out in several “bequeathing paragraphs”. “I leave my house at 239 Willmington Way in Hayesville to my son, Timothy, as well as the lodge in Helen.”

  “The twenty acres with commercial prope
rty potential are to be split between my grandson, Quinton, and my granddaughter, Rebecca.”

  Although Mason read that line out-loud, I had to go back and reread it myself to make sure I really hadn’t read my name. I mean, it had to be an oversight. Papa wouldn’t knowingly leave me out. But after rereading it twice, my name was still not there.

  At what must’ve been my apparent surprise, Mason shifted his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Peyton, I believe the last paragraph will be of interest to you.”

  Embarrassment prickled over my skin at being somewhat called out for my confusion. As my gaze dipped down the page, Mason began to read again. “As for my practice located at 181 Main Street, I leave the entirety of the business and dwelling to my granddaughter, Peyton.”

  My lungs compressed, sending air wheezing from my lips. “H-he left me his p-practice?”

  Dad reached over to rub my arm. “I can’t say I’m too surprised, Pey.”

  Yeah, well, I sure as hell am. Like I could’ve been bowled over with a feather kinda surprised. Why would Papa leave his thriving practice to someone who didn’t even live in town? Someone who had absolutely no desire to live in Hayesville, least of all work there. “But my job is in Atlanta,” I protested. My life is in Atlanta.

  Mason tapped his pen on the table. “I can assure you he was of very sound mind when he dictated that clause.”

  Slowly, I shook my head back and forth. “But he never even mentioned it to me. He never even planted a thought in my mind that he would leave it to me. I just assumed he would pass it on to Hank Kisick.”

  “Originally, that was the plan. But after having a mild heart attack last spring, Hank’s looking at taking an early retirement at the encouragement of his doctors.”

  “Then Papa’s practice would cease to exist?” The thought alone was almost too much to bear. The pets and livestock of Hayesville had been under the care Beasley Veterinarian Hospital for almost a century.

  “You could always lease the building to another doctor or set of doctors.”

  Unease pricked over me as I shifted in my chair. The idea of keeping the practice going should have given me comfort, but it didn’t. The thought of strangers working in Papa and Granddaddy Beasley’s practice turned my stomach. Sure, Hank Kisick wasn’t a member of our blood family, but he’d worked with Papa since he graduated vet school. That made him family.

  At my hesitation, Mason cleared his throat. “There is another option.”

  “Oh?”

  “Harris’s corner office is a prime piece of real estate. I know a developer has been eyeing the tract of buildings.”

  I furrowed my brows at Mason. “What would happen to the building?”

  Easing back in his chair, Mason replied, “As far as I know, they plan to gut and restructure the space to bring more businesses back to main street.”

  Gut and restructure? The thought of a wrecking ball anywhere near Papa’s practice caused my stomach to lurch. “That sounds like a terrible prospect,” I choked out.

  “You could always move back here and take over Daddy’s practice,” my father suggested. His hopeful tone picked off a few more pieces of my already shattered heart. I hated to caused him pain and disappointment. I’m sure Mom shared his hope.

  “I wish it were that simple. But I’ve made my career at Blue Pearl as well as my life in Atlanta.”

  “But this was your home for twenty years, Peyton. It could be your home again.” When I opened my mouth to protest further, Dad shook his head. “You may have practiced at Blue Pearl for the last three years, but you can’t possible know it as well as you Dad’s practice.”

  He had a point. I’d grown up in Papa’s clinic. It had become a part of me—like a second skin. My first day back in Hayesville had proven I still knew it like the back of my hand. The scents, the filing system, the pictures on the wall. I knew where everything was, every nook and cranny of the office. It also felt like home but I wasn’t ready to properly acknowledge that. But it missed a crucial element: Papa.

  Oh God. Not now. Take a deep breath, Peyton. Black spots were entering my vision. The room was closing in on me, and all I could do was hold on to the arms of the chair, hoping that would keep me upright. I can’t do this. I can’t do this without Papa. I can’t breathe. I shot out of my chair. “I’m sorry . . . need some air,” I choked out.

  Before anyone could stop me, I barreled around the table and fumbled for the handle on the door. When I burst out into the hallway, I slammed into a hard body. “I’m so s—” My apology died on my lips when I saw who I had run into. It was Declan.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “What are you doing creeping around out here?”

  Declan scowled at me. “I’m not creeping.”

  “What the hell would you call it? Skulking about? Snooping? Eavesdropping?”

  “Skulking? Who the hell says skulking?”

  “Those with a broad vocabulary,” I replied.

  With a roll of his eyes, Declan replied, “You and your big words.”

  “Stop deflecting and answer my question.”

  “Fine. I’m here to protecting my business interests.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Look, Peyton, it’s not a secret around here that Harris was contemplating retiring.”

  “Funny since he never a word to me about it.”

  “While he might not have vocalized it, he was easing himself out of practicing. It was assumed he would sell the practice to Hank until he had his heart attack.”

  I really loathed the fact Declan seemed to know more about Papa’s business than I did. Although it was fleeting, I didn’t like the feeling of betrayal I experienced towards Papa. I couldn’t believe he had shut me out of some of the most important decisions of his life.

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I countered, “Regardless of whether Papa was planning on retiring, it doesn’t answer the question of what business you could possibly have here.”

  “I needed to know the course of action your parents were going to take with the practice.”

  “Why would you possibly need to know that?” And then it hit me. It hit me so hard a violent shudder ripped through my body. No. This couldn’t be happening. The universe couldn’t despise me this much. “You’re the developer who wants to buy the building?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  Another shudder rippled through me. My hands flew back to brace myself against the wall’s textured wallpaper so I wouldn’t collapse into the floor. The man I despised most in the world was going to gut and restructure my beloved grandfather’s veterinarian practice. How could he? How could he betray Papa like that? Or me? I struggled to wrap my mind around it. Although the past three days had been a nightmare of epic proportions, this felt like I had stumbled into an alternate universe or a really bad Soap Opera plot.

  “Look, Peyton, I know because of our past you think I’m going to take advantage of your parents by lowballing them. I would never think of doing something so despicable. I promise to make them an above market offer.”

  I blinked at him. There appeared to be one part of Papa’s business he wasn’t aware of: the part where he left the business to me. Drawing my shoulders back, I stared him down. “Papa didn’t leave the practice to my parents.”

  Declan’s brows shot up in surprise. “Wait a minute. He didn’t sell it to another developer, did he?” With a shake of his head, Declan added, “He swore if he ever sold, it would be to me.”

  E tu, Brute, or in my case, E tu, Papa? Talk about feeling knifed in the back. How could Papa have possibly entertained selling his beloved building to the soulless bastard who broke my heart?

  “Excuse me?” I choked out.

  “We had a really good talk about it a couple of months ago. It’s why I’m here today. I assumed he had left provisions in his will about me buying it.”

  What the…Papa had had a “good talk” with Declan and failed to tell me. I don’t know what was worse: the fact he’d talked to him peri
od or the fact it had been amicable. Well, at least in Declan’s eyes. But knowing Papa as well as I did, I knew he would be civil to Declan regardless of what had happened. “No. He didn’t tell me about talking to you, and he certainly didn’t mention you in his will.”

  “Then who bought it?”

  “Nobody. He left the practice and building to me.”

  Declan appeared crestfallen. “He did?”

  I nodded. “Trust me, I’m just as surprised as you are.”

  “Wait, you didn’t know?”

  “Nope. I was completely blindsided.”

  Running his hand over his face, Declan muttered, “Huh.”

  “You could say that again.”

  “That certainly changes things.”

  Drawing my shoulders back, I replied, “I’m sure it does.”

  “Look, Peyton, if you would rather deal with one of the other guys at my company instead of working directly with me, I’ll understand. “

  “Wait, do you think I’m going to sell it?”

  “Of course, I think you’re going to sell it. What are you going to do with a veterinarian practice two hours from where you live?”

  “Maybe I’m going to rent it to some other vets?”

  With a smirk, Declan replied, “You would never allow a bunch of strangers to work on the sacred ground that your grandfather and great-grandfather did.”

  Damn him and damn our shared past that enabled him to know exactly what my thoughts would be. I’d hate anyone else working within those walls. And it wasn’t about control either. But I hated that Declan dared to smirk at me in this moment. To think he truly had no respect for me at this moment . . . To think he understood the importance of this place yet still only thought of lining his own pocket. “That’s rich you speak of sacred ground when you want to send a wrecking ball through it.”

  “I’m not planning on destroying the building. Considering it’s a historical site, my grandmother and all her old biddy friends on the Historical Society would have my ass.”

  “Mason said you were going to gut and restructure.”

  “Only interior.” He gave me an earnest look. “You have my word I would treat it with the best care possible to ensure the integrity of the original while making it more accessible for new businesses and shops.”