Hometown Girl

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Hometown Girl Page 16

by Courtney Walsh


  “No, I think it’s going to cost more. These are very rough estimates.”

  Molly sat down in the rickety chair at the end of the kitchen table, a defeated look on her face. “I don’t have any more money.”

  “Well, don’t freak out yet. I’ve got my share plus whatever Ben invests.”

  “What about Mom?”

  Beth blew a stray hair out of her eye. “No. We talked about this. We’re not getting Mom involved.”

  “Beth, she’s got money.”

  Ben and Beth had both agreed. Mom’s money was hers. They had to respect that. “No, Molly. Let’s leave Mom out of this.”

  “What about Dad’s business?”

  Beth frowned. “What about it?”

  “Is there any money there? Dad was always investing and making tons more than he put in.”

  Beth’s fingers went cold. Whitaker had barely bounced back from her mistake. “I think that’s a dead end.”

  “Why? It’s our family’s company. If there’s money just sitting there, shouldn’t we get it?”

  “There’s not money just sitting there, Molly. It doesn’t work that way.”

  Thanks to me.

  “Fine. It was just an idea.” Molly finished the last of Beth’s scone. “So we can’t ask Mom. The business doesn’t have anything. What other choice do we have?”

  Beth had been racking her own brain with the same question, though she didn’t like to think about it. She had her trust, but that was like her security blanket. She never touched it. But with her savings spent on the purchase of the farm and still not built back up to where they were before she’d tried to bail the company out of the mess she’d made, she would have to get into it. Otherwise, she didn’t have her share of the money at all.

  But she wouldn’t tell Molly that.

  “Let me talk to Ben. And after Drew gives me his list, I’ll have a better idea. I think we prioritize and do what we can, then worry about raising the rest of the money.”

  “There was someone else interested in the property,” Molly said. “A real estate investor or something.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Last week, a couple of days after the auction, this really tall guy I’d never seen before came up to me and handed me a business card. He said to call the number when I realized I was in over my head—his employer would take the place off my hands. Made me kind of mad, actually. I told him I was doing just fine, thank you very much, and tried to hand him his card back.”

  “And?”

  “He said, ‘Keep it just in case.’” She did her best impersonation of a cranky man.

  “You’re just mentioning this now?”

  “I didn’t want to tell you. I was afraid you’d call the guy and sell the place out from under me.”

  “I probably would’ve.”

  “And see all the fun you would’ve missed out on.”

  “Are you kidding? I would still be sheepless.”

  “Exactly my point.” Molly grinned.

  “Who was this guy?”

  “No idea. After he gave me the card, he walked over to a black Cadillac and talked to someone sitting in the back seat. The tall one glanced back at me, said something else to the mystery man, got in the car and drove away.”

  “Did you see the guy in the car?”

  “Just for a second as he rolled up the window.”

  “What was his name?”

  “Davis something. Davis Biddle?”

  Beth jotted the name on her legal pad. She’d have to look him up when she got home.

  “That doesn’t make any sense. If he wanted to buy Fairwind, why didn’t he just come to the auction? He could’ve bid one dollar more than you and been the new owner.”

  “He was vacationing in the Caribbean. That was the other thing the tall guy said.” Again, she put on a male voice, only this time, she sounded snooty: “‘My employer would’ve bought the place himself if he’d known about the auction, but he was vacationing in the Caribbean.’”

  “Was he British?”

  Molly looked confused. “No, why?”

  “Your impression of him sounded like a cheeky British guy.”

  “Funny. Maybe he’d invest? Another silent partner—like Ben.”

  Beth didn’t like the idea. Ben was their brother. This guy would come in and tell them what to do and how to do it. And even if that was exactly what they needed, she didn’t want a boss right now. “I don’t know, it all seems a little strange to me.”

  Molly shrugged. “Yeah, and a little creepy. Not the right kind of person to buy Fairwind—even if he could probably bankroll the whole thing.”

  A silence fell between them.

  “It’s too bad Seth’s not around,” Molly said.

  “I’m sure his money is long gone,” Beth said. Their youngest brother had cashed out his trust the day he turned twenty-one, and they’d hardly seen him since. He’d breezed in for Dad’s funeral, acting unfazed as usual, and the next day he was gone.

  None of them even knew if Seth was in the country right now.

  Molly sighed. “I really wanted this place to be ours. A family affair.” She sat up straighter and looked around the kitchen, which, Beth had to admit, looked a lot worse than when she’d first started cleaning. “What are you doing in here anyway?”

  Beth went back to the refrigerator. “I’m cleaning.”

  “But there’s so much to do outside. Isn’t that the priority?” she mocked.

  Beth scrubbed at the stains on the fridge’s shelf. “It all needs to be done.”

  “But no one lives here. Can’t the house wait?” Molly balled up the empty Butler’s bag and tossed it in the garbage can. “Beth?”

  “Mm-hmm.” If Beth put her head any farther into the refrigerator, she’d freeze her nose hairs.

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  The side door opened, and Drew walked in. At the sound of him, Beth startled, knocking her head against the shelf. When she finally extricated herself from the appliance, she could already feel a knot forming. “Hey.”

  Very cool. Very nonchalant.

  Drew’s eyes darted from Beth to Molly and back again. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “It’s a mess.” And so was she.

  Molly cocked her head to one side, a playful smile spreading across her face. Beth pretended not to notice but prayed that for once her sister chose not to embarrass her. “If I’m going to stay here, I can clean it up.” He turned on the water faucet and filled up his water bottle. “And how many guys do you think we can hire to help me outside?”

  Beth left the refrigerator open and moved away from it. She sprayed the only small patch of counter that wasn’t covered with dishes, and scrubbed, aware that Molly’s playful smile had vanished. In its place a death glare now lasered in on the back of Beth’s head.

  Drew turned the water off and turned around, suddenly looking caught.

  “What’s he talking about?” Molly asked.

  “Did I say something wrong?”

  “It’s not your fault, Drew. Beth has a policy about us not making decisions without consulting each other first.” Molly said this in her throw-it-back-in-your-face tone.

  “He needed a place to stay,” Beth said, finally facing her.

  “And you didn’t think you might want to consult me about that first?” Molly had dug her heels in. Beth wouldn’t be able to say anything to appease her. “Do you see what a ridiculous double standard this is? You haven’t even officially signed any papers. You’re not even an owner yet.”

  Again, Beth closed the refrigerator, still wearing her yellow dish gloves, which carried the faint smell of bleach and dirty sponge. “I know, Mol, I . . .”

  What could she say? She hadn’t even considered consulting Molly first, but it made good business sense to pay Drew less and allow him to live in their unoccupied house.

  “I bring a harmless sheep to live here and you fly off the handle. You bring a man to li
ve in my house and I’m supposed to act like it’s no big deal? What if I wanted to move in here?”

  “Do you?”

  “Of course not, but what if I did?”

  Molly wasn’t going to let her off the hook. She had a point to make, and she would make it. And it really irritated Beth to know she owed her sister an apology.

  “He’s staying here as a trade for work,” Beth said. “It was a smart business decision.”

  “So is collecting animals for our petting zoo, Beth. Especially when they’re free.”

  Beth peeled off the gloves and tossed them in the sink. “I’m not going to talk to you until you calm down.”

  Molly turned to face her. “You know I’m right. You did the exact same thing I did. You made a decision without talking to me, only your decision is a whole lot riskier than mine. A sheep isn’t going to set fire to our farm. Or slit our throats when we aren’t looking.”

  They both looked at Drew, who stood wide-eyed, like the collateral damage he was.

  “I don’t really think those things about you. I’m just making a point,” Molly told him. He nodded. “Good to know.”

  “What do you want me to say?”

  Molly narrowed her gaze, locked tight on her sister. She raised one eyebrow in a challenge. A challenge Beth recognized instantly. “You know what you need to say.”

  Beth crossed her arms over her chest. “We’re really going to do this now?”

  Molly’s only reply was to cross her arms over her own chest and stare Beth down.

  “I think I’ll excuse myself,” Drew said.

  “No, stay,” the sisters said in unison, neither of them looking away.

  He froze. “I can find another place to sleep.”

  Molly’s eyebrow popped upward ever so slightly. “Well, that’s up to Beth.”

  Beth didn’t know when this ridiculous game had started. Maybe it was right after Molly’d had the brilliant idea to let her hamster “sleep” in her underwear drawer. Or maybe it was after she’d dropped out of college, throwing a full year of work—not to mention money—straight down the toilet.

  Somewhere along the way, Molly had begun taking great pleasure in pointing out every single time Beth was wrong—payback, of sorts, for all the times Beth had pointed out one of Molly’s blunders. The difference was, Beth wasn’t trying to be mean or condescending. She was trying to be helpful. What was she supposed to do? Let Molly carry on as if nothing was wrong?

  If Beth hadn’t intervened, who knew where her sister would be right now?

  That didn’t change her current situation, however. Beth saw that familiar twinkle in Molly’s eye. Right now, there was only one thing her sister wanted from her—and she wasn’t going to stop until she got it.

  There were three little words that would make this all go away. Three words that had Beth wishing this standoff hadn’t happened in front of the handsome stranger from Colorado.

  For the sake of the farm, Beth pressed her lips together and took a deep breath. “I . . .”

  Molly leaned a little closer. “Yes?”

  “I was wrong.” In her periphery, she saw Drew’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. A contented look settled on Molly’s face.

  “Can you say it one more time, please? I didn’t quite hear you.”

  “Don’t push it, Molly.”

  “It’s just music to my ears. I mean, it’s not often I’m the smart one around here.”

  “That’s a fact,” Beth said.

  “Does this mean I can stay?” Drew asked.

  “Of course, Cowboy,” Molly said, her false anger dissipating. “I just wanted Beth to admit it out loud. Very hard words for her to say.”

  “When are you going to grow up?” Beth threw a dish towel onto the counter, genuine anger building inside her. Sure, Molly may have been half kidding with her, but Beth didn’t like feeling stupid, especially not in front of her employees. As she opened the back door, she heard Molly say to Drew, “I told you we have to stick together.”

  The screen door slammed behind her, and Beth picked up her pace, her mind spinning. They wouldn’t have enough money to complete the repairs on the farm. They didn’t have enough help to get any substantial work done. And now they had a sheep and a boarder with a big German shepherd.

  The words I was wrong had never echoed so truly in her life.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Drew’s first night sleeping in the farmhouse was restless and strange. His mind played tricks on him in the darkness, and the house creaked in the wind. In the morning, he’d given his chore list to Beth and went outside to work while she looked it over.

  She’d brought coffee and pastries again, and he thanked her, unsure how to process her kindness.

  He’d started the week expecting Fairwind to yank away every brick he’d carefully built around his heart, but as the days wore on, something unexpected happened.

  Yes, the nightmares still plagued his sleepless nights, and yes, he spent too much time trying to force the memories he’d worked for years to forget, but his days weren’t spent in quiet solitude the way they usually were.

  At Elkhorn, he’d been pretty much left alone, with the occasional interaction with guests or other ranch hands. Here, though, there were always people around. Molly, Beth, their friends.

  By the end of the week, he knew all their names. They drank coffee and ate scones before spending their days or evenings tackling the chores he’d listed out and prioritized. At night after he finished working, despite his sore muscles, he walked the perimeter of Fairwind with Roxie, surprised to find an unexpected peace strolling through the rows and rows of trees in the orchard.

  Now a full week had passed, and while he’d originally been driven by an aching need for closure, he’d found a different purpose in the work he was doing. For the first time in his life, he felt like he was a part of something—he hadn’t even realized that was something he wanted.

  Tonight, before he started his walk out toward the orchard, he admired the work they’d accomplished on the main barn. Both he and Beth agreed it was the top priority, and after just a week of volunteer labor, they could see marked improvements.

  Maybe they had a shot at making that open-by-fall deadline the Whitaker sisters had given him after all.

  He whistled for Roxie, who fell into step beside him, and started walking toward the orchard by way of the woods behind the house.

  Once upon a time, the creek that ran through the property had been a great little fishing hole for two adventurous kids, and while that memory would’ve upset him only weeks before, he’d begun to make peace with the place that had stolen his friend.

  The weight of his burden hadn’t lifted, but he’d still found a way to enjoy his new surroundings—despite the fact that if he stayed even one more week, he’d likely be replaced at Elkhorn Ranch.

  Maybe that was okay.

  Maybe it was worth it to see the progress he made in bringing the old farm back to life. Maybe that was the way to make amends with his past. Do good in the present.

  Or maybe he simply liked the view.

  He turned back and allowed himself a few stolen seconds, watching as Beth swept the wraparound porch of the old farmhouse. She wore a pair of khaki shorts and a bright-pink tank top with flip-flops, of all things. The woman baffled him. Too sure of herself in unfamiliar surroundings, she was full of business sense but just naïve enough to have no idea just how much work was still ahead of them.

  They’d talked over the numbers. She had her own estimates, proving she didn’t quite trust him yet—but when she’d seen his figures were lower than hers, she seemed grateful.

  “That’s really good,” she’d said to him the previous afternoon. “Sounds like you’ve got it figured out.”

  “That’s what you hired me for.” He’d leaned back in the chair at the kitchen table and watched as she shuffled through the papers spread out in front of her. There was a heaviness on her.

  “Why are you
doing this, really?” he’d asked.

  She’d met his eyes, surprise on her face.

  “I mean, you seem especially driven.” He could tell she was passionate about the whole project, but he wasn’t sure what it was that drove her.

  “I just don’t want to lose a bunch of money, that’s all.”

  He didn’t buy it. Maybe one of these days he’d earn her trust, and he’d learn what it was that really made her tick.

  Guilt poked at him. What would she think if she knew his real reasons for being there? He’d kept his identity, his connection to the farm a secret. It was a harmless secret, and it was his, but would she see it as some sort of betrayal?

  He shook away the nagging thoughts. She hadn’t exactly opened up to him; why should he feel guilty for keeping a few awful things to himself?

  He focused on the list of things left to do, which played on a continuous loop in his mind. So far, he’d repaired broken boards, reinforced the beams, refinished the floors and put a fresh coat of paint on the interior of the main barn. He’d tackle the exterior with hired help next week. Ben had sent over a landscaping plan, and when it was time to add plants, Drew knew that old barn would look better than it ever had.

  He’d make sure of it.

  Somehow he felt like he owed it to Harold.

  Or maybe to Beth. Which was crazy because he didn’t owe her anything. Except that she’d given him this job—a job that allowed him to keep searching for the thing that had brought him here in the first place. A job that provided the distraction he needed to keep his mind from going to a dark place.

  Maybe he did owe her.

  He made his way up a hill surrounded by trees and saw the little chapel in the clearing. It seemed magically illuminated by a ray of sunlight shining through two clouds overhead. Roxie ran in front of him, leaving Drew alone with the tiny church, a place where he and Jess were never allowed to play.

  “Why do you have a church in your yard?” he’d asked her after a rousing game of hide-and-seek.

  “It was built before the house,” she answered. “I’m going to get married there someday.”

  She lay down in the lush grass and stared at the sky overhead.

 

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