“I’m ashamed to say that’s true.” She shuffled her flats on the Persian rug, Diann’s speech coming back to her full force. She swallowed hard and stared at him. “You’d have to know my past to understand. I jumped to conclusions. Will you please forgive me?”
Colin moved closer and took her hands in his. “There’s nothing to forgive. May we put this behind us and start over, please?”
She nodded, and considered their entwined fingers, relishing the contact.
Releasing her, he gently raised her chin until she met his eyes. “Might we have lunch tomorrow to discuss this further? Sophie is leaving early in the morning.”
“I’d like to, but Diann isn’t leaving until day after tomorrow, and I can’t desert her.”
“No worries. She can come along.”
Susannah started. “Come with us and discuss this mess I’ve made? I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why ever not? I’m sure you’ve already discussed it with her, right?” He cocked his head to one side, warmth and amusement in his light eyes. “After all, I saw her hide behind my tree.”
Chapter 20
Neville, North Yorkshire, England
2019
April scurried around her kitchen, attempting to make everything perfect for the lunch with Colin Heard. Polly’s voice kept coming back to her about what people would think of the situation. What else could she do? She couldn’t refuse his request. Lunch was a small offering of consolation for losing Susannah Wilkinson. He’d obviously been taken with her.
She turned down the burner on one of the pots on the Aga—not wanting to burn the delicate herb butter sauce she’d prepared for the haricots verts.
April jumped at the knock on her door. Glancing at the kitchen clock, she saw that he was early. She removed the red toile apron and hung it on the peg next to the refrigerator. She smoothed the wrinkles on her yellow cotton dress and opened the door to Colin, who wore a burgundy cotton shirt and pair of chinos, hands behind his back, rocking on the balls of his feet.
“Good afternoon, Miss Conyers.” With a flourish, he produced a fresh bouquet of daisies and yellow roses mixed with sprigs of fern.
“Thank you. These are beautiful.” April held the door open for him. As he passed her, she said, “You shouldn’t have.”
“It was the least I could do after inviting myself here. I appreciate your doing this on such short notice.”
“I’ll go put these in water. Please make yourself at home.”
April watched him move with care into the room as he took in everything that had belonged to Susannah. She headed to the kitchen.
“I see you have all the furniture Susannah had.”
Speaking from the kitchen, April said, “Yes, Ryan sold the furniture with the cottage. It was a blessing. I’ve added a few touches of my own—although I’m not finished.”
“Yes, owning one’s own home is a work in progress.”
“Would you care to take a tour of the cottage before lunch?”
“That would be splendid.”
April led him first to the office. His shoulders drooped when he stood at Susannah’s desk, and she saw recognition in his eyes as he took in Susannah’s books and the mementos she’d collected through her travels. He seemed surprised. “You still have Susannah’s personal belongings?”
“Yes, Ryan asked that I get rid of everything except the most personal of things and send those to him.”
He studied the items again. “She left everything behind.”
∞∞∞
Colin was perplexed that Ryan wouldn’t care enough to go through his mother’s belongings. Seeing her things brought back the memories of the rare times Susannah mentioned her son. She was proud of his successes, both academically and professionally, yet she had but briefly mentioned their estrangement. His fingertips slid over the small carving of Teotihuacan, the Mayan pyramid in Mexico, and the smooth rock-turned-paperweight that she’d collected from the beach at Dover. His mind wandered, reliving happy times they’d shared.
The tour continued, yet the office, lounge, and kitchen were what touched him most since it was where they’d spent time together. April excused herself to see about lunch.
Colin returned to the lounge, eased himself into the overstuffed armchair, and sighed with emotion. Memories kept surging through him. The few evenings he spent here—laughter and lovely conversation with Susannah about travel and their mutual wish to create memories together in the future. That now seemed so long ago. Too long.
“Mr. Heard?” April stood over Colin, offering him a glass of sparkling water. A sliver of lemon bobbed up and down among the bubbles as she held it out to him. He appeared transfixed by the movement.
Colin woke from his daydream and reached for it. “Oh, sorry. Thank you. Lunch smells wonderful.”
“I hope you like it. Most of my recipes are from my mum’s arsenal.”
Smiling, he said, “She sounds like a collector.”
“Oh my, yes, and a fantastic cook. My dad says that’s why he married her.”
April sat on the sofa next to his chair. She placed her drink on the table between them. “Did you spend much time here with Mrs. Wilkinson?”
He winced. “As much as my schedule would allow. But, yes, I do have nice memories of dinners, conversations, and working on the homeless committee.” He sipped the water with a distant stare. “I assumed there would be many more.”
April murmured, “Did you love her?”
He stared at his glass, and whispered, “Yes, but I never told her.”
∞∞∞
New York City, New York, U.S.A.
Several days later …
Janet greeted Ryan as he approached her desk. “Mr. Sturdivant called while you were out and asked that you come to his office tomorrow at three.” As she handed him the written message, she added, “By the way, someone is here to see you. He’s waiting in your office.”
“Thanks, Janet.” Ryan was apprehensive about meeting with Vernon, not sure if it would be good or bad news. Now was not a good time for a surprise visitor. “Janet, would you please bring us some fresh coffee—and make it strong.”
“Sure thing.”
Heading toward his office, Ryan’s mind was on the upcoming visit with Vernon. Stepping through the door, he spoke to the back of his visitor’s head. “Good morning. May I help you?”
Ryan was astonished to see that the man in front of him was Colin Heard. “Good morning, Ryan. It’s nice to see you again.”
He shook the man’s hand and took a seat at his desk. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, sir?”
“I had a meeting in New York and while in town decided to drop in on you. I wanted to see if your firm could provide fresh insight into marketing strategies for promoting our historic properties.”
“We can arrange a meeting to discuss some options.”
Colin jumped in. “Are you free for lunch today?”
“Let me see.” Ryan rang Janet, who confirmed he had nothing scheduled until two o’clock. Ryan glanced at Colin. “Looks like I’m free—would you like to meet at noon?”
Janet rapped on the door, entered and placed a tray with two cups of coffee and all the accoutrements on the corner of Ryan’s desk and asked Mr. Heard how he preferred his coffee. He replied and smiled as she handed it to him.
“Yes, noon will be fine.” Colin stirred his coffee, and gingerly sipped it. “Thanks for the coffee, Janet.”
Always confident and never flustered by any of Ryan’s important clients, Janet’s face reddened. “You’re welcome, Mr. Heard.” Her fingers toyed with her scarf.
“Thanks, Janet.” He sent her a knowing glance, reached for his cup and leaned back in his chair. What was it about this man that had all the women so rattled? “So, Mr. Heard, tell me what it is you’d like for this company to do for you?”
“An ad campaign to promote our U.K. properties in America.”
Ryan gave him a sidelon
g glance. “Couldn’t your U.K.-based firm manage it?”
“Yes, I suppose they could, however, I believe that a company located in the target country would be better able to identify with their audience. My U.K. firm understands what drives those in the U.K., but here I gather the marketing approach is somewhat different.”
“Yes, I see what you mean. What have been your most successful campaigns in the U.K.? It’ll give me a starting point for my lunchtime suggestions.”
Colin shared about several campaigns, and half an hour later, he placed his coffee cup on the tray and rose. “It was a pleasure, Ryan. I look forward to our lunch. Why don’t we meet at Nonie’s?”
“All right. I’ll gather my ideas as well as information about this company and the clients we serve.”
“That would be splendid. I’ll see you there.”
Ryan followed Colin to the door. He watched as Colin paused at Janet’s desk, thanked her for the coffee once again, and complimented her scarf. Janet blushed. Ryan shook his head and chuckled to himself.
∞∞∞
Ryan always tried to arrive before his client to be sure he was seated at a table with a view of the door. Reading body language told him what type of mood a person was in before they greeted him. He was cordial and wanted to get along with whomever he was doing business.
If someone were having a bad day, he could read it in their movements, facial expressions, and tone of voice. He would delay moving into a business discussion right away. Instead, he wanted to offer time to relax and lessen their tension. Life was stressful enough without having to jump from one trying situation to another. Doing business with a new person—or corporation—was taxing, in and of itself. He preferred to try and make someone comfortable first and then address the work.
Ryan entered the restaurant, planning to grab his preferred seat. As he scanned the tables, he was surprised to see Colin already present. He lowered himself into the place across from him. “Nice table—these are most often reserved for frequent patrons.”
Colin made no reply. He reached for his water.
When Ryan unzipped his laptop bag, Colin stopped him. “You don’t have to jump right into the presentation. Let’s have lunch first.”
Ryan blinked back his disbelief. He’d estimated Colin Heard as a very astute entrepreneur, not interested in personal connections when it pertained to business negotiation. Returning his case to the seat next to him, Ryan replied, “If you’d rather. What would you like to know?”
The server appeared. “Nice to see you, Mr. Wilkinson.” She took their orders with a thank you and left.
“So, you come to New York often?”
“Not often, but I always dine here. I like to go to places I’m familiar with. There is nothing unexpected.” Ryan couldn’t argue with the thought.
Colin offered, “Why don’t I tell you something about myself? You’ll have some idea what kind of company I run.” Ryan nodded. “First off, I struggled through university. I wasn’t all that skilled in academics. Yet, I was determined to finish. I met my wife there, and we married after graduation.”
Ryan was curious about this man’s career and asked, “What was your first job? Were you interested in acquiring historic properties right away?”
“I started managing a historic boutique hotel near London.” He smiled. “Brings back fond memories of those early days. My wife and I had been content. She did the bookkeeping. In those days, we were very happy in our jobs and our life together.”
“I suppose that job sparked your interest in historic properties, and—” Ryan was interrupted by a hard clap on his shoulder.
“Hello, old chum.” Cordell bellowed, drawing stares from surrounding patrons. He glanced from Ryan to Colin, and Ryan introduced them.
“Pleasure to meet you,” Cordell said.
“Likewise. Would you like to join us?”
“Thank you, but no—I’m meeting a friend. Carry on.” He excused himself and walked toward the hostess.
Ryan reached for his glass. “Sorry. Where were we?”
“You asked how I got started. My wife and I were on holiday, driving through the countryside. We came upon this scrubby inn in a charming village. It was a bit ramshackle but had loads of character, so we decided to spend the night. Both of us fell in love with it. It held such history, one of my favorite subjects. All it needed was cleaning and a bit of renovation to bring it to snuff. We approached the owner and asked if he’d consider selling. He did, so we made an offer, haggled over a week, and bought our first inn.”
“Do you still own it?”
“No, we killed ourselves bringing it back from the precipice, ran it for about a year, and sold it for a tidy profit. With the funds, we decided to invest in places that people not only stayed in but toured as well—sort of a double-edged investment.”
“But you said it had history, why wouldn’t you keep it for that angle at least?”
“Well, we agreed that inn-keeping alone was not our forte. Historic properties allowing a few rooms to let combined with touring is more diversified. Even when the rooms aren’t let, you have tourists who want to see historic places without always wanting to stay in them.”
“I understand.”
“Also, we had developed our collection into larger properties.”
Ryan smiled. “Like castles.”
“Yes. It’s a pity that so many of the U.K.’s castles lie in ruins. There’s one in Northern Scotland that was magnificent in its day. One of the twentieth-century owners didn’t want to pay taxes on it any longer, so he removed the roof—a property without a roof was dismissed from paying taxes during that era.”
Ryan raised his eyebrows. “I’m not big on history, but even I can see that’s a rotten shame. Why in the world wouldn’t they sell it rather than let it go to ruin?”
“That is an excellent question. I’d love to get my hands on that castle and do it justice—but I’m afraid it’s tied up in some possible vacation-flat conversions. They’ll most likely turn it into some cheesy, amusement park-type property—” Colin scoffed, his eyes flaming with righteous anger. “—or destroy it and rebuild.”
Colin waved a hand, the fire in his eyes cooled. “Enough about me. Please tell me about yourself.”
“I don’t have such a dramatic history. When I finished college, I started with a small marketing firm in Louisiana, and after gaining some experience, I was hired by this firm and have been here ever since.”
“Good for you. You’ve done well for yourself.”
Ryan thanked him, and Colin continued, “As you know, we are more than our careers though.” Colin probed gently. “What are your hobbies and interests?”
With a nod of understanding, Ryan answered, “Reading and tennis mostly. Sometimes I go skiing or hiking with friends. I do play the guitar but haven’t for a long time.”
“You’re quite the talented young man. I understand you’re an artist as well.” Colin paused. “I’m sorry—I seem to remember your mother showed me a sketch you’d drawn. It was quite good.”
Ryan’s face warmed. He steered the conversation away from himself. “Tell me more about how you came to such success.”
“We worked hard and collected a few properties that didn’t need much in the way of renovation—doing the work ourselves paid off. Things developed from there into what I have today. It wasn’t always easy though. Personally at least.”
Colin looked away a moment and back at Ryan. “As the business expanded in ways we only imagined, our marriage suffered. Our reactions to success was vastly different. I returned to Neville for a time and sought out my oldest friend for advice. He reminded me that I was not alone in my struggles, that God was with me. He shared how God helped him through his own difficult time and how he found peace—something I didn’t have but very much wanted.”
Colin held Ryan’s gaze and continued, “With his advice, I spoke with the Vicar at the local church I attended in my youth. The transformation was
n’t immediate, but that evening I knelt and begged God to help me. I accepted the truth of His Son and asked forgiveness for my sins. My life has been different from that day forward. Particularly, things I enjoyed before no longer appealed to me. My wife didn’t approve. It didn’t take long for her to lose sight of why we’d married. She had no direction and travelled frequently with a circle of friends of like mind. During a trip, she met someone and never came home. Had it not been for God, I would be an angry and bitter man today.”
Colin cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to have been so open, but I want you to know where my priorities lie.”
Ryan’s response was slow in coming. He recognized the anger and bitterness Colin spoke of. He had carried it with him for decades. Ryan avoided Colin’s eyes. To his relief, the server arrived with their food.
Ryan reached for his fork, and set it down, as Colin bowed his head and said a brief blessing over their food. “This looks great. I didn’t have time to eat a proper breakfast this morning.”
A pressing question came to Ryan before their business continued, “Mr. Heard?”
“Please call me Colin. Mr. Heard sounds like an old man.” His laugh was somber.
“All right … Colin. But is what you shared your way of saying you won’t do business with a company that isn’t Christian-based?”
“Oh, heavens—no. That’s not what I meant at all. I want every company to be aware of my standards and that I’ll not compromise them. God comes first in my business as well as my life.”
“I see. And I now understand why you were friends with my mother.”
Colin’s fork was halfway to his mouth when he stiffened. He returned it to his plate and looked at Ryan. “I hesitate to bring up your mother again, but since you broached the subject … had she been sick for long?”
Not anticipating the question, Ryan took a bite of food for time to think of a response.
“I’m sorry,” Colin said, his concern genuine. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it. I imagine it’s still too painful to speak of.”
“Yes … it is.” Ryan relaxed, able to avoid the subject.
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