Bread, eggs and milk? Wasn’t there some sort of joke about people holed up in snowstorms making French toast? Not that they were expecting a snowstorm, exactly. Although she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t hoping the wintry part of the mix leaned that direction. She hadn’t seen snow since... well, since that last winter vacation she’d spent here.
Packing up her laptop, she admitted she was actually brimming with anticipation, like that child she’d once been. It was silly, because the storm probably wouldn’t amount to much, anyway. But God, was it nice to feel simple excitement again. She’d been numb, she realized as she slung the laptop bag’s strap over her good shoulder. And while much of that was self-imposed, a protective shell that she’d cultivated, the absence of pure, innocent joy was such that she didn’t realize how much she’d missed it until she felt it again.
Adeline zipped her coat, and by the time she stepped outside onto the sidewalk, she felt half-giddy.
You’re being ridiculous. But at the moment, she didn’t care.
Adeline made a mental grocery list as she walked, with hot beverages high in priority. She’d been drinking so much tea that someone could toss her in the harbor and start a revolution. She had plenty of kindling now thanks to Sutton, but she could use more newspaper, or maybe some of those fire starters he’d mentioned.
“Hello again.”
Adeline screamed. She couldn’t help it.
“Jesus, I’m sorry.” The pretty blonde man – what was his name? Benton? No, Beckett. Beckett Caldwell – reached out to steady her when she stumbled backwards. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Again. It seems to be becoming a bad habit.”
Disoriented because she hadn’t heard nor seen him approaching, Adeline shook her head. “Where did you come from?”
“Ah, right there.” He pointed to a door that she hadn’t noticed because she’d been lost in her own thoughts. “I happened to be removing a flyer from the front window, and saw you passing by.”
The front window held numerous real estate listings, including one of her grandparents’ inn. Her gaze skittered away from it.
“I’ve been hoping I would bump into you.” He smiled, the very picture of charm.
“I can’t imagine why.”
That caught him off guard, and his mouth opened and closed before he broke into genuine laughter. At least, it seemed genuine. Once again, he’d startled her so badly that she couldn’t get a read on her own reaction. Her heartrate was just now beginning to settle.
“I, um, have something for you, actually.” Glancing up, he frowned at the sky. “Unless I’m mistaken, I think we’re about to get rained on any second. Would you care to step inside?”
She really needed to go to the grocery store before the weather got bad.
“Just for a moment,” he added, sensing her hesitation. “I think it’ll be worth your while.”
Even though she felt like she was falling for the pitch from the best salesman on the used car lot, he’d piqued her curiosity. “Just for a moment.”
He beamed that million-dollar smile. “Right this way.”
Beckett held open the door, and Adeline walked through into what was a surprisingly fashionable space. Not that she’d been in a lot of real estate firms for comparison, but this one looked more like a luxury chalet than a small-town business office. It was impossible not to contrast it with the rustic, homespun feel of her grandparents’ inn.
But after hearing his thoughts on the inn the other day, she realized that was the point.
“Ah, this is Shelby, the one who keeps things running around here,” Beckett explained of the woman – also beautiful – who sat behind the desk. “Shelby, this is Bristol Arrowood’s niece, Adeline.”
She turned away from her computer screen to offer a practiced smile and a manicured hand. “How nice to meet you, Adeline.”
Adeline wasn’t especially fond of handshakes, especially in colder weather when she was likelier to build up a static charge.
“I have a cold,” she lied, “and don’t want to pass on any germs. But the pleasure is mine.”
“I see.” She placed her hand in her lap. “Well, that’s very considerate.”
Her accent suggested she wasn’t originally from the area. Somewhere in New England, if Adeline had to guess. Which made Adeline wonder why she was familiar with her uncle, since Bristol had gone to the west coast for college, and stayed there. Despite having business that frequently brought him back east, he rarely stopped by to visit. Her father’s funeral was the first time she’d seen him in years.
“My office is on the second floor,” Beckett said, gesturing toward a wide, curving staircase.
Adeline hesitated yet again, but then moved that direction. She could swear that Shelby’s gaze was boring into her back. She felt awkward and uncomfortable for reasons she couldn’t quite define, except that she’d never fully gotten over her loathing of being the center of attention. Anyone’s attention.
When Adeline arrived at the top of the stairs, she realized that Beckett’s office wasn’t just on the second floor. It was the second floor. The spacious room echoed the design of the lobby – a look she was coming to think of as Moneyed Mountain – including a casual conversation grouping of Stickley chairs and leather loveseats, a boardroom table that appeared to be a solid slab from a giant sequoia, given its size, and a bar that was constructed to resemble the bow of a yacht.
His desk sat in front of a floor-to-ceiling arched window grouping that afforded a striking view of Main Street, and the mountains in the distance.
“Impressive,” she offered, because he seemed to expect her to say something.
“Thank you.” Rocking back on his heels, he glanced around. “As we spoke about the other day, this is an exciting time for Clayton. Lots of redevelopment projects that will give it a more modern vibe and help realize its potential as a preeminent tourist destination.”
Why did this sound like yet another sales pitch? “Isn’t the fact that it’s not modern one of the reasons people come here? To get away from the stress of urban life?”
“Right. Right. Which is why we’re working to preserve the foundation of the history, the small-town charm, while giving everything a facelift. I like to think of it as an architectural nip and tuck.”
By the way that line rolled off his tongue, she guessed it was one he used often. “As… interesting as that is, I’m not sure what it has to do with me.”
“Do you notice anything about the desk?”
She shifted her gaze that direction.
Constructed from heavy wood, the dents and scratches suggested that it was old, possibly an antique.
Adeline raised her eyebrows. “Aside from the wear and tear?”
Chuckling, Beckett moved past her to run his hand along the wide top, empty except for a sleek little laptop. “This was the front desk at your grandparents’ inn.”
Feeling the words like a physical punch, Adeline took a step back. She gazed at him and then down at the desk, which she hadn’t begun to recognize.
She felt… disloyal, somehow, for not knowing what it was. And like she’d fallen for a mean trick.
“Is this like the real estate version of the big game hunter,” she asked, mortified by the fact that her voice trembled. “Showing off the zebra head on his wall?”
His complacent smile faded. “Zebra?”
“A trophy,” she explained, although the answer seemed obvious.
When he laughed, a short, uncomfortable sound, Adeline saw red. Anger surged in to fill the spaces hollowed out by grief, and she turned to go.
Beckett stepped in front of her to block her exit.
“Move.”
“Please.” He held up his hands, part apology, part entreaty. “Don’t go yet. I only laughed because that was so far off from my intention. I… misjudged, and for that I apologize. I thought you’d be happy to see that part of the old interior remained.”
“As your personal property.”
/> His gaze shifted, and she guessed he hadn’t considered that she might not be overwhelmed with gratitude.
“Yes. As my personal property. But my original point stands, in that we’re not trying to obliterate the old, but rather looking for ways to salvage and reuse it. This is my hometown, too,” he added in a quiet appeal. “I don’t want to see it destroyed.”
“Just given a facelift.”
He hesitated, as if trying to gauge by her tone whether she was being taken in by his pitch.
“Exactly.”
Adeline couldn’t decide whether the man was simply tone-deaf, or wasn’t used to having people react to his ideas with anything other than wild enthusiasm.
“This isn’t my hometown, so while I appreciate… actually, no. I don’t appreciate you dragging me in off the street. But I understand that you thought you were doing something meaningful. So, thanks, I guess? But now I really do have to be going, since this isn’t my hometown, nor my home state, and I’m not accustomed to driving in winter weather conditions. Enjoy your desk, Mister Caldwell.”
Adeline stiffened when he grabbed her arm. “You seem to be developing more than one bad habit in relation to me.”
He dropped his hand. “I didn’t ask you to come inside just to show you the desk. I thought… never mind. It doesn’t matter. Ah, if you’ll just come with me over here?”
Adeline really didn’t want to. She was still too angry.
“Please,” he added, and she closed her eyes in indecision.
“Fine,” she finally sighed. “But make it quick.”
Beckett walked toward a door near the boardroom table and opened what looked to be a storage closet. He drew out a wooden beam.
“I was saving this for your uncle, but figured I may as well give it to you while you’re here.” He glanced up. “Believe it or not, I do understand the importance of family history.”
He turned the wood around.
On it were multiple markings, made with both pen and permanent marker. It took a moment, but then Adeline understood what they were.
And what a treasure she’d just been handed.
Her mom’s name. Uncle Bristol’s. Her dad’s, her own, and even Jaycee’s. It was a growth chart, documented on an old support beam in the family parlor of the inn. Dating back to when her mom and uncle were children, through her parents’ marriage and then the addition of their children, it reflected three generations of Arrowood history. She remembered standing there, back to the wood, while her grandma marked off her progress and added the date. And her grandpa teased about her getting bigger than him, while her dad gave her the fish eye when she tried to stand on her tiptoes in order to cheat.
Swallowing hard, Adeline’s gaze drifted all the way to the bottom. There were only two entries for Jaycee. She hadn’t lived to see her third birthday.
Swamped with conflicting emotions, she held her breath for a moment so that she wouldn’t burst into tears.
Feeling small, she looked into Beckett Caldwell’s painfully handsome face and felt her own grow hot and red. “I owe you an apology.”
He shrugged, although the jerkiness of the movement let her know that he was annoyed. “I let my own enthusiasm cloud my judgement. I’m sure seeing the inn in person was different than simply hearing about it from your uncle.”
Confused, Adeline shook her head. “He never said anything about it. I’m not sure he’s even aware of the fact that it sold.”
Surprise flashed across his face, but then his expression smoothed. “My mistake. I just assumed.”
She wondered if Bristol had indeed known about the building’s sale and transformation. If he had, surely he would have mentioned it, knowing she would eventually come into town?
But maybe not. She’d never been close to her uncle, as he rarely came home to Georgia even when her grandparents and mother were alive, and the only times he’d visited Florida were for funerals. Since his heritage didn’t seem to mean all that much to him, she guessed he couldn’t be expected to think it might mean more to her.
“The inn was structurally unsound,” Beckett said “due to some issues with the foundation. It hadn’t been able to house guests for the past several years. Gutting it was honestly the best option short of razing it and starting fresh, and neither myself nor the town council wanted to see a local landmark torn down.”
Now that she’d had a moment to calm down, Adeline could understand the practicality.
“I… well, to be honest, I feel like an ass in the face of this… incredibly thoughtful gesture.” She swallowed again. “I lost my father recently, and if you know Bristol, you’re probably aware that my mother and little sister died over twenty years ago. My grandparents have been gone for about ten. So, having something like this? It’s priceless.”
The hard set of his jaw softened. “Then I’m doubly glad to have rescued it from the rubble. I had the workmen plane the back side down,” he said “so that it wouldn’t be so big and heavy. I figured this way it could be attached to a wall in case someone wants to display it.”
Having knit a thin mental web to hold her emotions together, she focused on the practicalities so that it didn’t give way.
“Just so we’re clear, you did intend for me to take this?”
“I did, yes.”
And while she was beyond happy to have it, there was no way she’d be able to carry it herself. “I hate to ask, but would you be willing to hold onto it until I can arrange for transportation?”
“You don’t think it’ll fit in your SUV?”
When she frowned at him, he winced. “That sounds like I’ve been spying on you, doesn’t it? I was on a call and happened to look out,” he gestured to the picture window behind the desk. “I saw you get out of your car and head into Clancy’s.”
It was a reasonable explanation, even if it did make her uneasy. She hated feeling like she was on display. It brought back too many bad memories of people treating her like a circus sideshow.
“It probably will fit,” she admitted. “But I pulled a muscle in my arm the other day, and I’m not sure I could lift it.”
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll be happy to carry it to your car.”
“That’s very kind of you, but it still leaves the dilemma of getting it out of the car and into the cabin.”
“Wait, wait. You’re at the fish camp, right? I don’t know why I didn’t think of it. We manage that property. I can have Keith bring it by.”
Adeline drew back. “You manage it?”
“Aside from real estate and redevelopment, Caldwell Properties also has a management service for homes around the lakes. Many of them are seasonal, and require care while they’re unoccupied.” He frowned. “There should have been a brochure in your cabin with all our information.”
Adeline recalled gathering a bunch of papers together when Sutton was teaching her to start a fire. She couldn’t recall what she’d done with them. “I’m sure I just overlooked it. And I have spoken with Keith. He called to check on me the other day when that storm knocked out the power.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I hope you didn’t hurt your arm trying to manage out there alone?”
Again, Adeline felt uncomfortable that he seemed to know so much about her situation. But if his company acted as property manager, she guessed it made sense. And it also explained why he was familiar with her uncle Bristol. Her mom’s share in the cabin had passed to her, but she’d never had an active role in its management. Her dad stuck the proceeds from rentals into a fund that helped pay for her college, but other than paying her share of the taxes and expenses, they’d remained hands-off. Bristol had been the one making almost all of the decisions after her grandparents died.
“I, um, fell,” she admitted. “Through a hole in a floor.”
His brows slammed together. “At the cabin?”
“No.” With an awkward chuckle, she shook her head. “The cabin is still in one piece, I assure you. It was this old, abandoned p
roperty. I was trying to rescue a puppy.”
He simply stared. “This sounds like the lead-in to some sort of horror movie.”
Adeline considered that she’d thought much the same thing herself when she’d first glimpsed the house.
“Yes, well, luckily one of the neighbors is a volunteer firefighter, and he pulled me – and the puppy – to safety.”
When he didn’t respond, Adeline noticed that his jaw had hardened again.
“The puppy, I’m happy to report, apparently suffered no major injuries.”
“What? Oh, the puppy. I’m relieved to hear it.”
There was something off about his voice, something flat and disconnected. Like he’d checked out of the conversation midway through her story.
“I, um, need to get going,” she said. “I have to head to the grocery store before the weather gets worse.”
Beckett shifted to glance out the window. “It looks like it’s still just a light rain, luckily. But yeah, the forecast sounds pretty ugly.” He turned back around. “Do you have everything you need at the cabin?”
“Whatever I don’t have, I’ll pick up at the store. But I appreciate your thoroughness.”
He offered a small smile. “I’ll walk you out.”
“Oh, that’s completely unnecessary. I can find my way.” She made herself look him in the eye, and swallowed the rest of her pride. “Thank you. I’m sorry for reacting with hostility.”
The smile grew larger, and seemingly more genuine. “You’re welcome. I’m sorry for not reading the room.”
Adeline huffed a laugh. So, maybe he wasn’t as tone-deaf as she’d assumed.
She went downstairs, glanced toward the front desk to say goodbye to… whatever her name was, but she of the manicured nails and Boston accent was nowhere to be found.
Adeline hurried outside before she came back.
She wished she’d thought to bring an umbrella, but the forecast said the rain and whatever else was coming with it wouldn’t start until tonight. Luckily, she’d parked only a few spaces down from Beckett’s office, which was obviously how he’d seen her getting out of her car.
Slow Burn (Rabun County Book 1) Page 19