by Carrie Elks
So here he was, richer than he’d ever imagined, but with no idea what to do next. He rubbed the back of his neck with his palm. He should be happy, he knew that. Yet the thought of all this free time on his hands made him uncomfortable as heck.
“So what happens now?” Gray asked him.
“We hand over all the intellectual property and make sure the transfer goes smoothly.” Tanner shrugged. “Then I’m a free man.”
“You gonna set up another company? Keep coding?”
Tanner lifted his beer to his lips. “Can’t. Part of the deal is that we won’t do any coding that might compete with the business for a year.” He took a sip, swallowing it down. “So unless I want to go serve pancakes at the diner, I’m a man of leisure.”
“That’s rough.” Gray nodded at him.
“Hey, don’t worry about him,” Logan said, grinning. “Has he told you how much they’re paying him for this? The guy never has to work again if he doesn’t want to.”
“How much?” Gray asked, tipping his head to the side.
Tanner told him, and Gray’s brows lifted up. “Whew.”
Not that Gray should be that impressed. As a successful singer, he’d earned more than enough money over the past few years to not worry about cash ever again. He’d spent years touring the world, and not visiting home, thanks to the animosity between him and their father. Then last year he’d returned and fallen in love with Maddie Clark, and the two of them had built this house together.
“You might not be the richest brother any more,” Logan said, grinning at Gray. “Now we’ll all be begging Tanner for a loan.”
“I’m pretty sure Cam’s the richest,” Tanner pointed out. “He just got signed for another season.”
“I can categorically state I’m the poorest,” Logan said, shrugging as if he didn’t care in the slightest. “In cash at least. I just bought another restaurant.”
“Are you guys waving your cash around again?” their little sister, Becca, asked, as she bumped Tanner along the chair, somehow squeezing into the tiny space beside him. “You’re all disgustingly rich. And you need to stop making me look bad. I’m sick of going on dates and having to tell guys who my brothers are. All they want to know is if I can get them tickets to Cam’s football games or Gray’s concerts.” She shook her head. “I wish we had a normal family.” Her voice was wistful.
“You shouldn’t be dating anyway,” Tanner said with a grin, pressing his elbow into her side. “You’re only a kid.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m twenty-four.”
Gray caught her gaze. “Tanner’s right. No dating.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You want me to grow up old and lonely like Tanner? No thanks.”
Tanner rested the base of his bottle on the grass beside the chair. “I’m not old and lonely.”
“Okay then. Young-ish and lonely. Same difference.” Becca grinned, her upturned nose wrinkling. “Speaking of which, are you going to say hi to Savannah Butler when you see her in town?”
“Who says I’m going to see her in town?” His stomach dipped at the thought of it. It had only been a few hours since he’d learned Savannah Butler had come back to Hartson’s Creek. He had no idea why she was here, either. The days when they told each other everything were long gone.
Had been for years.
Becca shrugged. “It’s a small town.”
“Sure is.” Gray’s girlfriend, Maddie, walked over, carrying two glasses and a half-full bottle of champagne. She poured a glass for Becca and herself, passing one to Tanner’s sister. Gray opened his arms up, and Maddie snuggled into his chair with him, whispering something in his ear.
Becca took a sip of champagne and turned to Tanner. “I wish you and Van were still friends. I miss her. She was like a sister to me growing up.”
There was a time when Van Butler spent more time at the Hartson house than her own. Tanner’s Aunt Gina, who’d taken care of the five Hartson siblings after their mom died, had grown used to making an extra portion for the girl who lived a few streets away.
And every evening, when Aunt Gina told her it was time to go home, Tanner would walk her to her tiny, ramshackle bungalow and watch silently as she stepped inside, grinning when she’d turn back and stick her tongue out at him before closing the door.
“You have Maddie now,” Tanner pointed out, nodding his head at Maddie and Gray. They were laughing at something she’d just said. “She’s like a sister to you as well.”
“Yeah I know. But we’re still outnumbered.” Becca took a sip of wine.
“Maybe Cam or Logan will bring a girl home,” Tanner said in an attempt to appease her. Becca was his little sister, after all. Like she was with all of his brothers, Becca was his soft spot. The one they made sure was happy. Anybody else would probably have been spoiled by it, but not Becca. She was too good for that.
She choked on her wine and he swallowed down a laugh. Logan gave her a half smile.
“I’ll believe that when I see it.” She put her glass back down and turned back to Tanner. “What happened with you and Van anyway? One minute you guys were best friends, the next it was like you didn’t even know each other. I kept asking, but nobody told me why.”
Tanner lifted Becca off him, then stood and stretched his arms. “This beer isn’t cutting it,” he said, ignoring her question. “Anybody ready for whiskey?”
“Not for me.” Gray shook his head. “But you guys go ahead. Becca brought some bourbon home from the distillery.”
She nodded, her questions about Savannah Butler forgotten. “We haven’t released it to the public yet.” She turned to Logan, her eyes sparkling. “I can probably get you some for your restaurants if you like it.”
Becca had worked at the G. Scott Carter distillery since she’d left college three years earlier, first as a trainee, now as a distiller.
“Sounds good.” Logan nodded and looked at Tanner. “I’ll take a glass, please.”
“Me too.” Cam nodded. “And then I need to hit the sack. I’m back to training next week.” He stretched his arms.
“When are you guys going back to Boston?” Becca asked the twins. Cam and Logan had settled there after college, when Cam had been one of the top draft picks and Logan was looking at starting his restaurant career.
“Monday,” Logan told her. “I need to be back at work by then.” He flashed her a smile. “The fun of being in the hospitality industry.”
“But you’re staying for a while though, right?” Becca asked Tanner.
There was something about the way she was looking at him that tugged at Tanner’s heartstrings. Where there was only three years between him and Gray, with Cam and Logan slap bang in the middle, Becca was the youngest by four years. Growing up, she’d always chased them around on her tiny legs, panting loudly when she couldn’t keep up.
Then as they’d left home one by one, she’d been forlorn without them. If you took his arm and twisted it behind his back he might just admit he missed her, too.
He’d never tell her that.
“I might hang around for a bit,” he conceded. “It’s not as though I’ve got anything better to do.” Counting the dollars in his account had already bored him to death. He needed to get a hobby and fast.
What was it that Aunt Gina always said? The devil makes work for idle hands. Right now his whole body was idle. Who knew what the devil had planned for him next?
Chapter Three
Tanner, age 6
Tanner glanced at the girl out of the corner of his eye, willing her to stop rocking back and forth on her chair. Any minute now Mrs. Mason was going to notice, and he knew she was going to tell her off.
He hated getting told off. It made his stomach feel all twisty and sick.
The girl tipped back again, and he automatically reached out to the back of her chair, stopping her mid rock.
“Hey. What’ya doing?” she asked, shocked at the abrupt halt to her fun.
“You’re gonna get in tr
ouble,” he told her, his eyes wide.
She shrugged. “So what?”
“Tanner Hartson, is that you talking?” Mrs. Mason asked, turning around from the chalkboard at the front of the room. “I swear you Hartson boys will be the death of me.”
He narrowed his eyes and glared at the girl. She stuck her tongue out and winked.
She could wink? That was cool.
The sun was beating through the window to her left, turning her hair as golden as the cornfields at harvest time. Without even thinking, he reached out to touch it, surprised at how silky it felt between his fingers. His own hair – and his brothers’ was thick and coarse like wool. Baby Becca’s hair was soft and downy, but not silky like that. He liked the way it felt.
The girl gave him a strange look.
“Your hair is pretty,” he whispered.
“Thanks.” She grinned the biggest, widest smile he’d ever seen. It was like being blinded by the sun.
“Okay, who in here knows how to write their name?” Mrs. Mason asked, her eyes scanning the six-year-olds sitting in front of her.
Tanner shot his hand up. His mom had painstakingly taught him that a year ago. He noticed the rest of the class do the same.
All except the girl next to him. The smile on her face dissolved as she looked around and realized she was the only one in the class with her hand down. Slowly she pushed hers up, her jaw jutting out like she was gritting her teeth.
“Okay, children. I’d like you to show me how you do it. Use the paper and crayons on your desk, please.” She smiled at them. “Make me proud.”
Tanner pulled a piece of the drawing paper toward him, and took a green crayon from the plastic pot in the middle of their wooden desk. Curling his fingers around it, he slowly moved the crayon across the white expanse, drawing his ‘T’ as straight as he could, before slowly forming the rest of the letters.
When he stopped, he wrinkled his nose at his efforts. His letters were too slopey. Gray had told him to write in a straight line. He sighed and went for another piece of paper when he realized the girl hadn’t begun to write her name.
“You need to write your name,” he whispered. “Before Mrs. Mason comes to look.”
The girl’s gaze slid to their teacher then back to Tanner. “I don’t know how.”
“Didn’t your mom show you?”
She shook her head.
“What’s your name?”
“It’s Savannah.” He must have grimaced at the long name because she quickly added, “But everybody calls me Van.”
“Van. That’s not so bad. Just a vee then an ay and an en. It’s kinda like my name. I’m Tanner.” He pointed at the paper in front of him. “See?”
“Not really.”
“What color do you want to do your name in?”
“Red.” She nodded, as though it was a given.
He grabbed the red crayon from the pot, along with a fresh piece of paper, and painstakingly traced out the three letters, this time making them as straight as he could. “There,” he said. “Van.”
She took the paper and held it up, admiring it like she would a piece of art. “Van,” she said. “That’s my name.” She grinned again, and he felt the warmth of it. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“You’re welcome.” He nodded, his expression serious.
Mrs. Mason was walking around the room, looking at her students’ attempts at their name. When she reached Tanner’s table, she looked down at his paper and smiled. “That’s lovely, Tanner. And how about you, Savannah. Let’s see your name.”
Van pushed her paper forward, still beaming.
“That’s not your full name,” Mrs. Mason said. “Can you write Savannah for me?”
Van shook her head. “Everybody calls me Van,” she said, nodding to emphasize her words.
“But Savannah is such a pretty name,” Mrs. Mason said. “And you’re such a pretty girl.”
“It’s Van,” the girl said again, rolling her eyes. “I don’t need a pretty name.” Tanner had to curl his nails into his palms to stop himself from laughing out loud. Watching the two of them was like a battle of wills. He wasn’t sure who’d win.
“Well, I shall call you Savannah.” Mrs. Mason said, as though she was trying to have the last word the same way Tanner’s dad always did. “Okay, Kindergarteners, well done. Now let’s try our numbers.” She clapped her hands and walked away, shaking her head like his mom did when she was annoyed.
When the teacher had turned her back on them once more, Van elbowed Tanner to get his attention. “Hey, Tanner,” she whispered loudly.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
He smiled. “That’s okay.”
“You wanna play with me at recess?” she asked him. “I know all the good games.” She gave a slow nod, like she was weighing something up. “I’ll even be your best friend if you want me to be,” she told him. He felt warm inside, like she’d just given him a birthday present.
The sun hit her hair again, making her look like the angels in his mom’s illustrated bible, and Tanner found himself nodding at her suggestion.
“Yeah,” he agreed solemnly. “I’d like that a lot.”
Chapter Four
It had taken three days, but her mom’s bungalow was finally clean from top to bottom. Van stepped back, admiring the way the kitchen surfaces shone. Her hair was tied back from her face, her skin glowing from exertion, but she couldn’t help but grin as she took it all in.
“Hey, Zoe!” she called out, turning as her sister walked through the kitchen door. “Take a look at the stove. You ever seen it look that clean?”
Zoe pressed her lips together, staring at Van as though she was crazy. “Um, no.”
Okay, so maybe she was crazy. But since her mom had spent the past few days either laying in bed or moping on the living room sofa, it had given Van something to do.
“I cleaned the windows, too,” Van told her sister.
“Nice.” Zoe looked around, her brows lifting. “But isn’t it all gonna get dirty again?”
“What do you mean?”
Zoe glanced at the chrome clock hanging over the back door. Van had put a battery in it earlier when she’d taken it down to polish it. “It’s almost dinner time,” Zoe pointed out. “And we’ll have to use the stove to cook it. Then it’s gonna get dirty.”
Over Van’s dead body. “We’ll go out to eat tonight,” Van said quickly. At least that’d give her a few more hours of a clean house. “Where do you want to go?”
“The diner?” Zoe suggested. “They have good milkshakes there.”
Van grinned. “I haven’t been to Murphy’s in ages. Are the eggs still bad?”
“The worst.”
“Okay then. The diner it is.” Van put away the last of the cleaning supplies, then washed her hands. At least she didn’t need to tidy herself up much for the diner. Just a quick shower and a change of clothes. “Mom?” she called out. “You want to come out for dinner?”
It took a moment for her mom to reply, “No. Just get me a burger or something. I’m too sleepy to go out.”
Van sighed. Compared to sorting out her mom, getting the house clean was easy. “Give me twenty,” she told Zoe. “Then we’ll head out.”
“Sounds good to me.” Zoe grinned. “I’ll be ready.”
“Are you sure you want to eat here?” Tanner asked his sister, holding the door open for her. The aroma of coffee and fried food hit him instantly.
“Of course. Murphy’s is a Hartson’s Creek institution. If you’re staying here for a while, you need to reacclimatize yourself.” Becca grinned at him, ducking under his arm and heading straight for her favorite booth. “And I won at cards last night fair and square. Winner picks the food, loser pays. It’s our rule, remember?”
Tanner slid into the tattered bench seat opposite Becca, his legs barely fitting beneath the peeling table. He was wearing a thin grey sweater, his hair freshly washed after his evening run, though he hadn�
�t bothered to shave.
This had been his favorite booth as a kid. His and Van’s. Murphy’s had been one of their favorite places to hide out, accompanied by a milkshake and fries, as they laughed like crazy at each others’ jokes.
Murphy’s Diner had been a local institution for as long as he could remember. With its shiny chrome décor and red faux leather seats, it was the center of Hartson Creek life. It overlooked the town square, complete with a painted white bandstand and colorful flower beds, the verdant grass dotted with benches where the townfolk loved to sit and talk.
Along with the bakery, Laura’s Dress shop, and Fairfax Realty, it faced the large white building opposite – The First Baptist Church of Hartson’s Creek, the other focal point of small town life.
He and Van had introduced Becca to the diner and their favorite booth when she was old enough to appreciate it. She’d been maybe nine or ten years old. He’d regretted it later, when she’d beg him every day to let her come with him to meet Van. But it was still her favorite place to sit. For some reason, that warmed him.
He looked down at the tattered bench seat. The stuffing was coming out at the corner, looking like fluffy white clouds against the scarlet seat. “I don’t think they’ve updated this place since I lived here.” To be fair, it wasn’t a big surprise. He would have been more shocked if they had updated.
Becca widened her hazel eyes, pretending to be affronted. “Stop your moaning, Tanner Hartson. I hope all that money and living in New York hasn’t changed you. There was a time when this was your favorite place.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Wasn’t bitching. Just observing.”
She leaned forward, grinning. “You think you’re too good for this place now that you’re rich?” she asked him. “Maybe I should tell Murphy you don’t like the décor.”