A Place with Briar (Harlequin Superromance)

by Amber Leigh Williams

  Growing up in Huntsville, his father had instilled in him a strong work ethic. It had all started with mowing their lawn...then the lawns of neighbors and relatives. He could have opened his own lawn service if he hadn’t decided soon after high school that becoming a police officer was what he wanted to do with his life. Maybe it was because he hadn’t worked—well, really worked—in so long, that this simple chore felt great. Even better that he was doing something useful for Briar and taking a load off her shoulders.

  He wanted to tell her he had changed, he realized as the yard became more and more trim. He wanted to tell her how she had brought about that change—that she was the reason why he could no longer do Tiffany’s dirty work.

  He was in love with Briar. The golden bliss of that moment at the table this morning had called for such a declaration.

  However, there was no way he could tell her that he loved her until he shared everything else with her. Until she knew all of him, the dark and the light.

  Funny that both the shadows and the bright spots featured the two women who had turned his life upside down—Tiffany being the dark, and Briar the light. But there was Gavin, too. If he’d never fallen in love with Tiffany way back when, there never would have been Gavin. His son was the best part of him.

  Hopefully, if he could find the right way to reveal all these bright and shady aspects of himself in equal measure, both Gavin and Briar would be a part of his new life. A life he now foresaw on the Eastern Shore.

  If she accepted his apology, he’d find his own place in town. He had no doubt there were other guests who would choose to stay in the bay-view suite. There would soon be other people she had to tend to. And if mowing her lawn taught him anything, it was that he missed having a purpose. He missed being useful.

  A job. He didn’t think he could go back to working for the police, even in this different locale, but there was always security.

  He cleaned the mower and pushed it back into its corner of the shed. Then he gassed up the weed eater and carried it to the back of the house to trim the grass the mower hadn’t been able to reach. The hairs on the back of his neck rippled with warning. Letting them lead, he turned his head in the direction of the kitchen door.

  A suited figure stood there amongst the azaleas, looking like a shadow himself in Briar’s sunny alcove of the world. Cole frowned. He didn’t recognize the man, not from this distance. He was distinctly tall, slim for his height. His hair was thin and gray and he was staring out at Cole curiously, briefcase in hand.

  Because the man looked expectant and clearly out of place in a perfectly plain, dark-toned suit and gray tie, Cole set aside the weed eater and headed over. “Can I help you, sir?” he asked as he approached.

  “Who’s asking?” the man barked, shading a pair of flinty eyes with the brunt of his hand.

  “Name’s Savitt, sir. I’m a guest here at Hanna’s.”

  “A guest?” The man scowled. Up close, grim lines furrowed his brow and the sides of his mouth. “She has guests doing the work around here now?”

  It didn’t take but a second for the man’s presence to sink in. He bore no resemblance to Briar, but Cole had a good sense that this was her father. He shifted his stance. “You must be Mr. Browning.”

  “I’m looking for my daughter.” The words should have formed a request, an inquiry at the very least. But they were clipped, commanding and set Cole’s teeth on edge. “It’s urgent that I speak to her.”

  “She’s out.” When the man’s scowl deepened, Cole crossed his arms over his chest. The urge to protect Briar and her whereabouts surged through him, originating around the prickle at the base of his neck—that raw instinct he’d never had a reason not to trust. Remembering the way Briar had behaved after her father’s last visit, he’d have wagered instinct was right on the money again. That this man was about as welcome here at Hanna’s as another Category 2 hurricane. “I think she said she had a meeting with her accountant.”

  “Accountant,” the man echoed. His lips pursed. “Hmm. Well, at least she’s taking some responsibility.”

  Cole felt the muscles in his jaw tighten. “Is there anything I can help you with, Mr. Browning?”

  His brows winged up, eyes hardening further with suspicion. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say by your tone you are more to my daughter than a tourist.”

  “I don’t see why it would matter to you if I were.”

  “Leave it to her to overstep her bounds.”

  Maybe it was the swamping humidity or the blistering heat of the noonday sun beating down on his head, but Cole heated up like a live wire in an instant, advancing toward the man in three long, impending strides. “She hasn’t overstepped anything. Your daughter is the most decent person I’ve ever known. She works harder than anyone I’ve ever met. And I’m ready to personally take issue with anyone who thinks he has the right to say anything to the contrary.”

  “Savitt, is it?” Mr. Browning sneered, his flinty stare now acerbic enough to cut stone. “Let me tell you something about my daughter. She’s never known what’s right for her. By investing everything she has into this godforsaken place, she’s made a mistake she can’t unwind, a mistake that will cost her dearly. And if she’s not careful, and I’m right about who you are and what you’re doing here, she’ll get herself into more trouble in the meantime.”

  “Where do you come off, old man?” Cole asked, squaring off with the bastard. “She’s dedicated her life to something good and all you seem to want to do is tear her down for it. Did it ever occur to you that your support, however marginal, is all she’s ever wanted from you?”

  “You’ve gone too far,” Browning growled low in his throat, stepping off the stoop to loom in Cole’s face. “You don’t know anything about my relationship with my daughter, such as it is. And I can guarantee that you won’t be around long enough to make a difference to either of us.”

  “I daresay I’ve made more of a difference than you’ve bothered to,” Cole asserted, refusing to draw back. “You know, my father passed away before my son had a chance to really get to know him. But he was more a man than any other I’ve ever met, and I was lucky to have him. No matter what I did or where I ventured, he never lost faith in me. I wouldn’t be anyone without that kind of unconditional support, and I hope I can offer the same to my son. Now, think of what you’ve deprived Briar of all these years. She’s starved for even the barest trace of appreciation or praise from you. And despite all she is, all she’s done and made here, you hold back. You punish her for being who she is. Frankly, I don’t know how you sleep at night.”

  Browning held his stare, a chilling showdown, for what felt like a small lifetime. The muscles in his jaw quivered with wrath. “You’re going to regret ever walking into her life.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  “Try to make yourself useful, Mr. Savitt, and tell my daughter I came looking for her.” The man turned on his heel and stalked out of Briar’s garden. Cole watched until he disappeared before relaxing his stance. He wiped the sweat from his brow and braced his hands on his hips. Collecting his breath, he worked to cool the simmer in his blood.

  Maybe he had butted into something that wasn’t any of his business, he thought as he made his way back to the weed eater. But there was no doubt Briar’s father had hurt her, and that he would continue hurting her if he got the chance. It was time somebody stepped up to the plate for her and made it clear to the old man that his brand of crap would no longer be tolerated.

  Storm clouds rumbled in the east yet the sun wasn’t giving up its reign of the early afternoon. He was finishing up on the far side of the property when he caught sight of Olivia as she walked out onto the tavern terrace. Judging by her white tank, cotton shorts and the microfiber cloth hooked through the shorts’ side belt loop, she’d been in the midst of cleaning. He shut off the mower a
nd reached up to wipe his brow with what he hoped was a clean forearm.

  Olivia pulled her cloth loose and tossed it his way. “Dry off, why don’t you?”

  “Thanks,” he said, scrubbing it over his face and around to the back of his neck. “So, how much did you hear?”

  When he glanced at her, she lifted a shoulder, gazing at him with eyes too wise. Leaning against the railing, she crossed one ankle over the other in a casual stance. “You ever replace a car battery?”

  His mouth fumbled open. As always, he hadn’t known what to expect Olivia to say—this, least of all. “Sure. There’s not much to it.”

  She pushed herself off the railing, propelling down the steps to the trim lawn. “This way.”

  He watched her walk away for a moment then shrugged and followed. They wound up in the tavern parking lot, which was only a narrow lot of gravel on the far side of the tavern. Cole sensed the placement was strategic on the part of Hanna’s. None of the tavern bustle would be visible from any of the inn’s sprawling windows.

  There was one lone vehicle in the lot, a burnt-orange 1980s model Ford pickup parked under the shade of an overhanging oak tree. “This yours?” he asked in disbelief.

  She shot him a winged look over her shoulder as she popped the hood. “You saying a girl can’t drive a truck?”

  “Would you call me a chauvinist if I did?” His lips twitched when she turned to him, propping a hand on her hip. “Kidding. Where I grew up, everybody has a four-by. I just didn’t expect it of you.”

  “Because I’m so feckless and dainty.”

  “Dainty, maybe. But hardly feckless.”

  “Why, thanks, sugar.” She walked around to the driver’s door and leaned in through the open window. “This here’s Chuck.”

  Cole’s lips twitched. “Chuck the truck?”

  “Yep. He was my father’s till he and my mother took the college money I was never going to use and invested it in an RV. Three months later, they took off on the road and haven’t been back but once a year since, leaving Chuck here and the tavern in my care.” Carrying a new battery, she joined him again at the hood. “I bought this because Chuck’s been having some trouble starting.”

  “You sure it’s the battery?” he asked, knowing he risked a valued appendage by voicing the cautionary question.

  As expected, she sent him a bland look. “The damn thing doesn’t start. It’s a battery problem.”

  “Could be,” he granted. Stepping around her, he took a long gander at Chuck’s restored engine. “Or the alternator might be going out.”

  “If that were the case, would it be turning over?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Okay then, grease monkey. Here’s the deal.” She patted the new battery. “I don’t like anybody’s paws except mine on my ride. Despite your delusions of grandeur, I’m willing to trust you. And I’ll pay you for the trouble.”

  He swiped the battery from her grasp and disconnected the old battery cables. “If it is a battery problem, this’ll take me all of five minutes—if that. You’re not paying me.”

  “It is a battery problem, and I will pay you. If you won’t take money then you can quit digging your heels in the mud and tell me what you and my uncle Hud were discussing so heatedly a while ago.”

  His jaw tensed before he realized there was no reason to jump on the defensive. No getting around the fact that Olivia was Briar’s cousin and they were close. He respected the link and its importance to Briar. Careful not to lean his midsection against the truck’s hot grille, he frowned thoughtfully as he worked and she hovered like a hawk.

  It wasn’t until the thunderhead to the east rumbled, announcing its descent on the Eastern Shore, that he spoke again. “These cables are corroding. You’ll need to replace them soon, too.”

  “New battery cables, check.” Leaning against the hood, she eyed him expectantly.

  Cole sighed. “Your uncle’s a jackass.”

  “Agreed.”

  When he gaped at her, she lifted her shoulders, expression sober. “He’s hard on Briar for all the wrong reasons. He won’t admit it’s because he sees Hanna when he looks at her and it hurts something awful. But he’s gone too long taking his grief out on the most convenient person around.”

  Maneuvering the new battery into place, Cole secured it, scowling over the work and Olivia’s words. “It’s been a year and nobody ever stepped in?” Standing back, he rubbed the grease from his hands and turned the fierce stare on her. “You never stepped in?”

  “I tried,” she tossed back. “Lord knows I tried so many times to bash some sense into that stubborn fool’s head. But one reason he hasn’t retired from law is that he loves sticking to his guns and he doesn’t back down when he’s convinced he’s in the right. If Briar inherited anything from Hud, it’s that damned stubbornness. Not that I can say much. The Lewis side of the family is just as bad....”

  Finished with the task at hand, Cole closed the hood and turned slowly, mirroring Olivia’s stance by leaning against the truck, the cleaning cloth slung around his shoulders and his arms locked over his chest. “She’s like her mother, right?” At her nod, he added, “Hmm, I don’t see someone like her going for a man as hard as he is.”

  Something softened the contours of Olivia’s face as she gazed off toward the bay, squinting at the glare off the water. “The thing with Hanna was that she had what we used to call ‘X-ray vision.’ She could see through the toughest armor, right into the heart of the hardest person and she knew how to draw that side of them out. It’s part of the reason why she was such a great innkeeper. And Hud was different with her—up until Briar went off to college. Then whenever I came over for dinner and guests weren’t around, I’d often hear the tail end of heated arguments. Tension hung in the air, like some sick cat walked in and died there on the table but nobody cared to talk about it. By the time Hanna died, maybe even before, Hud had regressed back fully into that tough old rhino skin you rammed your head against this afternoon.”

  Cole shook his head sadly. “He really never did make his peace with it, did he?”

  “That would require some semblance of feeling. He hasn’t felt a stir in so long, I’m shocked somebody hasn’t taken him for a zombie and popped him one with a .308 Winchester.”

  His lips quirked up briefly at the image. “It’s crazy how different things would be...”

  The small, drawn lines around Olivia’s mouth eased. “If she hadn’t died? Yeah. Life would be a helluva lot easier for Briar, that’s for sure. But trust me. Hud would still be riding her to do something else with her life, even if she’d gone to Atlanta for culinary school.”

  Cole considered the situation carefully. Hudson Browning’s feud with his daughter was far from over.

  The telltale sound of tires crunching gravel in the inn parking lot distracted them both.

  “That’ll be her,” he murmured.

  “Are you going to tell her about this?”

  “I have to,” he said, pulling the cloth down from around his neck and handing it back to Olivia.

  She took it, scrutinizing him closely as she folded it in half and tucked it back into her shorts. Then she surprised him by taking his face in her hands and giving him a short, noisy kiss on the lips. “My cousin’s found herself a damn good man. Men around here have proven to be disappointing in the past, so I don’t say that lightly.” With a firm pat on his cheek, she added, “Go get her,” and walked off.

  It took him a moment to find his feet and stroll back to Hanna’s to fess up to his innkeeper—in more ways than one.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  BRIAR WATCHED THE two charcoal thunderheads come together like stern brows overhead and threaten the sunny outlook on her side of the bay.

  Typical, she thought as the sun evaded the first grasp of cumulonimbus
. The morning’s headache had finally vanished—and, if Byron Strong was right, the inn’s troubles would soon be over, too. And now the weather had decided not to cooperate with what promised to be a fine, cheerful mood.

  She scooped fingers through her hair so pins tumbled from the professional updo she’d fashioned to meet the accountant who’d spoken to her so kindly after her father’s visit a week ago—not that her father knew about any of this. The folder on the small nook table in front of her held the names of several potential investors, ones Byron had promised would jump at the chance to plunk a finger down in Hanna’s deep, historical pie.

  They had agreed it was best at this time not to tip their hand to her father who’d been so sure Byron was her only chance to get out from under the inn’s burden of debts unscathed. Byron had even chosen to meet her away from her father’s Mobile practice, at a far less intrusive location, the university library.

  She would review the investors again and make arrangements to meet them over the course of the week—and take the first real jab in this fight for what was hers. Especially now that it looked like a battle she could very well win.

  And yes, she acknowledged as a smile warmed her lips, the inn was hers. As Byron had laid everything on the table and gone through it bit by bit, the rush had swept through her blood and for the first time in a long time she had let it.

  Hanna’s not only could be hers, but it was. She wanted to fight for it not just for her mother’s sake but for her own.

  She wasn’t sure what had brought about the shift. A few days ago, she hadn’t been able to think of the inn as anything but her mother’s domain. The fight to save it had been Hanna’s—Briar had only picked up the gauntlet.

  Byron had helped her find her own gauntlet, though, and she hadn’t hesitated to throw it into the midst of the contest.

  Taking his business card from her sweater pocket, she placed it on top of the folder. Her father had been right about one thing—Byron Strong was what she needed to get her affairs in order. Only Hudson wouldn’t be at all pleased to find out that his business partner had decided to go rogue, aiding his daughter in her fight instead of shutting it all down.