Typical night with the Garrisons.
No time like the present. Ford grabbed the bouquet of flowers he’d bought for his mother and the wine he knew his father loved and slowly made his way to the door. It felt odd that he had to knock on his own door but, as his parents reminded him on every visit home, he didn’t live there anymore so it was only proper that he knock.
Whatever.
The door opened and there stood his mom—Catherine Garrison.
In a power suit.
He had to admit, his mother did not look one bit of her sixty-two years. And standing there in her suit, heels, and her perfectly done hair and makeup, she looked like someone ready to pose for the cover of a business magazine.
Resisting the urge to roll his eyes—after all, this was supposed to be a casual family dinner—he smiled broadly. “Mother, you’re looking lovely this evening.” He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.
“So good to see you,” she said as she touched his cheek. “You must have worked late today.”
He knew it was coming and yet he couldn’t resist. “Why do you say that?”
She rubbed her palm over his jaw. “You didn’t have time to shave.” With a serene smile, she accepted the flowers Ford handed to her and motioned for him to come in.
Stifling a chuckle, he stepped into the house and walked to the kitchen, where he found his father preparing steaks to put on the grill. “Hey, Dad.” Placing the wine bottle on the counter, he shook his father’s hand.
Because apparently, Garrison men didn’t hug one another.
“How’s the house coming along?” Thomas Garrison asked, not looking up from the steaks he was seasoning. “I heard Ryder and some of your friends came out and helped you for a day.”
Ford gave him the rundown of all the work he’d accomplished since he’d started. It felt like he was having the conversation with himself because neither parent commented on anything he was saying.
“So…um…yeah. The roof is done, the plumbing has been upgraded, and this week we’re going to work on the electrical upgrades and then see if there’s anything else Grams wants done.”
“Ford,” his mother began patiently, “you’re not bothering your grandmother with all of this, are you?”
“I don’t think I’m bothering her, Mother,” he said in a similar tone. “It’s her home, and I want it to be done to her liking, that’s all.”
“It doesn’t really matter what her liking is,” his father said as he finally looked up. “This accident proved that she shouldn’t be living alone. The doctor told us that she’s not healing as quickly as they’d hoped, and her recovery is going to be long. That means she’ll go from the hospital to a rehab facility.”
“And then what?” he asked.
“We’re looking into nursing homes or assisted-living facilities,” his mother replied. At his dismayed look, she added, “It’s for her own safety, Ford. That house is too big for her and there are too many steps.”
“So I’ll build some ramps,” he argued lightly, not willing to accept the fact that they were essentially ready to remove Grams from her home. “There are plenty of modifications we can make to the house to make things easier for her.”
“It won’t matter, Son,” his father said, opening the bottle of wine. “She can’t live on her own. Your grandmother is eighty-eight years old and she needs someone to look after her. I’ve been talking to her about this for some time now, and—”
“And how does she feel about it?” Ford asked, feeling more than a little defensive on his grandmother’s behalf.
“She knows it’s for the best,” his mother said.
For a minute, Ford stood there in complete disbelief. His father walked out to put their steaks on the grill and his mother placed a tray of cheese and crackers on the kitchen island.
Ford had seen and spoken to his grandmother multiple times since he’d been home, and not once did she mention moving out of the house and going to a nursing home—or anyplace else, for that matter. If anything, she seemed anxious to come home.
“Mom, I…I don’t understand this. Grams didn’t say anything to me about any of this.”
She gave him another patient smile and picked up the glass of wine her husband had poured for her. “Ford, she’s not getting any younger, and of course she doesn’t want to move, but the fact is that she has to.”
“And what about the ranch? What’s going to happen to it?”
The smile she gave him was a little cool and polished and it made his gut clench. “We’re going to sell it.”
“Sell it?” he repeated. “And Grams is okay with this?”
“She’ll see it’s the right thing to do,” his father said mildly.
“That’s what we wanted to talk to you about tonight,” his mother went on. “There are things we want done to the house to make it more appealing to buyers. It was sadly outdated, but I think with the right upgrades, we can be smart with the budget and get it on the market after the first of the year.” She paused and took a sip of her wine. “That won’t be a problem, will it?”
His mind was reeling. This was all a little too much to take in. No one had warned him that this was even a possibility. Although if he was being reasonable, he would realize this was what was best for his grandmother. He thought about how much worse things would have been if Callie hadn’t been there that day. How long would it have been before someone had found Grams?
He looked at his parents—his father rinsing off the grilling plate, his mother sipping her wine as they casually talked about how they were going to list a home that had been in their family for sixty years! His father had grown up in that house. He thought of Callie’s words to him from a week ago.
“Dad,” he said, feeling a little anxious, “that’s your family home. You grew up there. Think of all the memories and…and…how Grams and Gramps built it! Don’t you want to keep it?”
Looking at him as if he were insane, his father replied, “For what? It’s just a house, Ford. The property has appraised for a very nice price, and really, you should be happy about it too. That’s part of your inheritance. You’ll make a good sum of money on the deal.”
“And if you sell Garrison’s, you’ll find yourself a very wealthy man,” his mother added.
“Sell Garrison’s? What the hell are you talking about?”
His parents looked at each other with the first sign of unease he’d ever seen—and Ford’s stomach sank.
“Have a seat, Ford,” his father said, motioning to the dining room table. When Ford was seated, his parents sat and faced him.
“Ford, you know your grandfather wanted you to take over the company,” his mother began. “We encouraged him to sell it years ago, but he was rather insistent that it go to you.”
Shaking his head, Ford said, “I know that, but I never said I’d do it. At the time, I was getting ready to leave for the service and couldn’t commit to something like that. I thought he knew that.”
“He did. We all did,” his father said casually. “You were eighteen and heading to the Navy. No one wanted to put any additional pressure on you.”
“But…?”
“However,” his mother continued, “your grandfather assumed that once you came home, you would naturally come back to Eagle’s Ridge and take over for him.”
Still feeling confused, he rested his elbows on the table and studied his parents. “I don’t understand. At the time of his death, I was still in the Navy. No one’s mentioned me selling Garrison’s since I’ve been home. This is all coming out of nowhere.”
Rather than respond, his father got up to go outside and flip their steaks.
“We’ve been telling you to come home and take over the company for two years, Ford,” his mother said after taking a sip of her wine. “Why do you think we were saying that?”
His eyes went wide and he leaned back abruptly in his chair. “Honestly? Because that seemed to be what everyone expected of me. Are you telling me th
at I actually own Garrison’s?”
“Technically, yes.”
“Technically?” he yelled, jumping to his feet.
“Ford, really. You need to calm down.”
“I own the damn company—and have for five years—and no one thought to mention that to me? How is that possible? Who’s been running it? Why haven’t I been notified of anything?” he ranted, and then something else hit him. “Oh my God…do you have any idea what an idiot I must have sounded like talking to Dennis Allen these last two weeks? I’ve been going around talking to him like he’s my boss and somehow, I’m his!”
“There’s a whole board and legal team in place, handling things for you,” she commented. “Your grandfather didn’t want to pressure you, and it’s stipulated in his will that you will take over the company when you’re ready.”
“When I’m ready? How am I supposed to know that when I’m just finding out now that this is a thing?”
This time, his mother stood and, for a slender woman, she looked rather intimidating as she looked at him. “Ford, this isn’t new information, it’s simply information you’ve been ignoring. Your entire life, your grandfather has been grooming you to take over his company and everyone knew that. Including you. You just thought if you ignored the situation, it would go away.”
“That’s not what I’m doing—”
“Yes, it is,” she snapped. “You don’t want to live in Eagle’s Ridge? Fine. Don’t. Sell the company. That’s your prerogative. Your father never wanted anything to do with that business, but he’s been working with the board to make sure everything has been run properly and that you have money going into a trust for you until you were ready to deal with this.”
Raking a hand through his hair, he felt like the walls were closing in on him. He let out a slow breath and wondered just what the hell he was going to do. And then he had to wonder how much else no one was telling him.
“Gramps knew how I felt about leaving here,” he forced himself to say. “We used to talk about it all the time. There’s no way he could have misinterpreted that. Someone else is just going to…they’re going to have to…” For the life of him, he had no idea what he was trying to say.
And then something strange happened. His mother’s expression softened—almost turned sympathetic. “Refusing to deal with Garrison’s isn’t going to bring him back, Ford. I know how much you loved Ben—we all did—but ignoring the company isn’t the answer here.”
His heart was beating hard and emotion threatened to choke him. “I hate that I wasn’t here,” he said lowly.
She walked around the table and placed a hand on his shoulder. “He was so proud of you. He talked about you every day to anyone who would listen,” she said with a sad smile. “He wanted you to take over his legacy, but he also respected your need to make your own way. Either way, Ford, it’s time for you to make some decisions.”
Swallowing hard, he nodded. “It’s all just a little much to take in—the company, the house, Grams…”
“I know.” That was all she said before walking out of the room to finish preparing dinner.
* * *
If Ford thought he was being blindsided, it was nothing compared to what Callie was dealing with.
“Wait…I don’t understand. When did this happen?”
Sitting across from her in her childhood home sat her mother, Ruth. “Well, I’ve been thinking about it for some time. And I think the time is right for me to do this.”
It took almost a full minute for Callie to blink.
Or breathe.
“But…where are you going to go?
Ruth looked at her daughter with a bright smile. “The possibilities are endless! The girls and I were talking—”
“The girls?” Callie repeated. “What girls?”
“Oh stop. You know Robin Wilson, Ginny Mason, and Sue Baxter and I get together once a week for our book club. Well, there’s supposed to be a lot more of us, but we’re the four who show up no matter what. Did I tell you about the book we read last week?” Ruth asked with excitement. “It was fabulous! A woman finds her fiancé cheating on her and she goes to work for this exclusive resort and it turns out her ex is getting married there!”
“Mom…”
“So she ends up hiding in all these crazy places whenever he and his new fiancée are there, and she keeps running into the sexy groundskeeper and—”
“Mom!” Callie said loudly. “Focus! We’re talking about you leaving Eagle’s Ridge, for crying out loud! You’ve never mentioned wanting to move away, and now suddenly you are!”
With a patient smile, her mother rose and patted her on the shoulder. “Let’s have some tea and talk about this.”
Callie stood and followed her into the kitchen. “I don’t want tea,” she mumbled.
“How about cocoa?”
Dammit. That was her weakness. Actually, anything chocolate was her weakness so… “Fine. Cocoa.”
While her mother made their drinks, Callie looked around. “Would you sell the house?”
“I would,” Ruth said with a nod. “Unless you want it.”
Did she? She thought and then immediately knew the answer. No. When Callie envisioned having a place of her own, she wanted it to be just that—a place of her own. A place where she could make new memories and not think about the old ones. Not that this house held bad memories, but for so much of her life, she and her mom had struggled and…well…this wasn’t her dream house. And she knew if she moved back in here, she’d probably get stuck in a rut and never leave.
“Won’t you need the money from the sale of the house to move and then live on?” she asked.
“Probably, but I wanted to give you the option first before I did anything.” She placed two mugs of hot cocoa on the kitchen table and motioned for Callie to sit down. “I’m not saying this is going to happen next week or next month but…I think this is something I really want to do.”
“But where would you go? I mean, are you going to move someplace warm? Is that what this is about?”
Laughing softly, Ruth reached over and took one of Callie’s hands in hers and squeezed. “I’m not going to lie to you, the thought of never seeing snow again is very appealing, however, I don’t know if I could do something as drastic as going to Florida.”
“There are other places to retire,” Callie said, and then wanted to kick herself for even remotely encouraging this.
How was she supposed to live in Eagle’s Ridge without her mother? For her whole life, it had always been just the two of them! Was she supposed to pack up and move too? Now, after finally getting a job teaching here? Which is what she asked even though she hated how desperate she was sounding.
“Sweetheart, this is hard for me too. But I’m not getting any younger and I’ve never lived anyplace but here. I may move away and find that I hate it and come back.”
“But you could also go someplace and love it and…never want to come back.”
Squeezing her daughter’s hand, Ruth said, “That is never going to happen. This is where you are, and so this is where I’ll always come back to.”
“But…?”
“But…that doesn’t mean you can’t come and visit me too, you know. I always felt bad that we never traveled or went anywhere.”
“We went to Disneyland.”
They both laughed softly. “True, but that wasn’t the kind of traveling I was talking about.” She paused. “There’s a big world out there, and although our little corner of Washington is pretty darn breathtaking, there’s so much more to see. I’ve budgeted and scrimped and saved and…I want to just…I need to…”
“You need to go and see,” Callie said quietly, even as her heart squeezed.
They drank in companionable silence and Callie couldn’t help but wonder about the future. The thought of not seeing her mother for their once-a-week dinner dates seemed overwhelming. And as she looked around the kitchen again, she couldn’t imagine there being a time when another fa
mily would be sitting here.
And then she realized some other family was going to make their memories here…and that wasn’t a bad thing. It was the way life was supposed to be. It didn’t make her heart ache any less, but there was some comfort to be found.
Of course, when the time came to pack everything up and watch her mother leave she was going to be an emotional mess, so she chose not to focus on that right now. Instead, she wanted to do something to put a smile on her mother’s face.
“So tell me about some of the fantastic places you’re looking at!”
* * *
It was after nine when Ford pulled up to the ranch and immediately noticed the light on in the workshop. Dinner with his parents had gone longer than usual, mainly because he finally got them to talk to him about what his grandfather had done, and what he needed to do about moving forward—even though he still had no idea if that meant selling the company of taking over in the role of an absentee figurehead.
Just thinking about it gave him a raging headache.
Basically, he’d left them with the promise that he’d think about all of it, but he knew he’d have to make a decision by the time he finished work on the ranch. There was still so much to do here, and even with the exterior repairs done, the longer he stayed, the more he realized needed to be done.
Especially if the end goal was to sell the house. The interior was in need of some serious updating, and Ford already planned to go and visit his grandmother tomorrow and talk to her about what she wanted to see done in the house. Maybe that wasn’t the right thing to do, but it was her home—one that she built alongside her husband sixty years ago—and he felt like she deserved to have some say in what he did with the place.
Ford: 7 Brides for 7 Soldiers Page 9