“What offer?” Gabe asked. “What’s this all about?”
Tess took a deep breath and laid her hand on Gabe’s arm. “Mr. Tapley wants to buy Whisper Lane.”
“He wants to . . . he can’t.” Gabe faced Tapley. “Why would you?”
“I don’t discuss my business affairs with the hired help,” Tapley said.
“Hired help?” Tess said, iron in her voice. “This is my nephew. Gabe has every right to know anything that concerns these stables.”
“Then why didn’t he know about my offer?”
Tess’s cheeks reddened, and Gabe clenched the rag in his hand, wishing it was the man’s silk tie.
“Like I said, it’s a good offer.”
Tess turned to Gabe. “Mr. Tapley wants to raise and train horses for harness racing.”
“Here?” Gabe could hardly believe what he was hearing.
“Mr. Tapley,” Tess said. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner. But as you can see, circumstances are different now. Gabe is here, and I’m no longer interested in selling.”
The smile on Tapley’s face momentarily froze, and his eyes turned cold. He recovered so quickly, Gabe almost believed he’d imagined the malice. But he’d seen such flashes before in the eyes of dangerous men, and he knew they meant trouble.
“My dear Mrs. Marshall,” Tapley said. “When we talked on the phone a few weeks ago, you told me the place needed more upkeep than you could provide. Can your nephew make that much difference?”
“He can.” Tess smiled at Gabe with pride. “He will.”
“I think you should go now,” Gabe said as politely as he could but with an edge to his voice that left no mistake he wasn’t asking. “Your business here seems to have ended.”
Tapley took his time scanning the buildings and the pastures. He dropped his cigar to the ground and pressed his foot against the stub.
“Don’t be so sure,” he said. “Negotiations may be stalled, but they have not ended.”
“But they have,” Tess said firmly. “Now please excuse us. As you can see, we have work to do.”
“I offered you a good price, Mrs. Marshall,” Tapley said while staring at Gabe. “Be sure you know what you’re doing before you say no.”
Gabe raised his shoulders a fraction of an inch and returned Tapley’s stare. He had faced more menacing enemies than this overgrown upstart. Without breaking eye contact, he pointed farther up the lane. “Your driver can turn around by the silo.”
Tapley waited another beat, then directed a cold smile to Tess. “Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs. Marshall.”
Except for the clenching of his jaw, Gabe didn’t move a muscle. Though his stance was relaxed, his body was taut, prepared to handle any threat.
“I think you should go, Mr. Tapley,” Tess said.
Despite his size, he slid easily into the Mercedes’s backseat, a black tarantula encased in an ebony shell.
The tires unnecessarily spun gravel, and Gabe stared after the fender as it curved around the dirt area near the silo. Casually, as if he didn’t have a care in the world, he picked up the crushed cigar stub, then held it lightly between his fingers as he took a stand in the middle of the lane.
“What are you doing?” Tess asked. “There’s no need for any foolishness.”
Gabe ignored her as he waited for the car to return. The driver braked only a couple feet from his legs, but Gabe didn’t flinch. He motioned for the window to be rolled down and walked to the driver’s side.
He leaned against the door, his head partially through the open frame. “Your boss forgot something,” he said congenially.
“What would that be?” Tapley asked from the backseat.
Gabe resisted the temptation to look at him. Ignoring the man was better, a subtle means of saying Tapley wasn’t worth his time. He flipped his hand, revealing the cigar stub he held between his finger and thumb.
“Hospitality isn’t our only custom around here,” he drawled. “We also don’t leave our trash in a neighbor’s yard.”
He dropped the stub in the driver’s lap, then pushed away from the door. “Get on out of here.”
Even as Tapley passed by him, Gabe refused to acknowledge his existence. Men like him expected position and wealth to provide them with respect they hadn’t earned. And didn’t deserve.
Tess joined him and stared after the departing car. “Tell me you didn’t throw that cigar at Mr. Tapley.”
“If I’d done that, he’d have left here thinking that’s what he’d expect from someone like me. So I did the unexpected.”
“You still shouldn’t have.”
“He shouldn’t have spoken to you the way he did.”
“I can handle the likes of him.” She placed the steel wool in the palm of his hand. “You finish the wheel. I’ll go check on supper.”
She’d taken a few steps toward the house when Gabe spoke. “Would you really have done it?” he asked quietly.
She turned and faced him, her expression drawn and sad. “I never wanted to.”
“But you would have?”
“I didn’t think I had a choice. I’m still not sure I do.”
Gabe avoided looking at her, his mind whirling with thoughts he couldn’t seem to untangle. Memories and dreams and regrets and hopes.
Tess returned to stand in front of him. “I’m only sorry I didn’t tell Tapley no before this. Then you wouldn’t have known. And this wouldn’t have happened.”
Gabe removed the beaten Stetson, wiped his brow with his forearm, and rested the hat against his leg. He didn’t want to upset Tess, didn’t want to argue. But it hurt that she’d kept this from him. His eyes flickered, seeing everything around him except for her.
“If you didn’t want me to know,” he said softly, “then why did you tell Tapley what you did? Either I have a right to know or I don’t.”
She was silent for so long he finally looked her way. Her posture was stiff, her chin tilted upward. Tears welled in her eyes, but she’d do everything she could so they wouldn’t fall.
“We bought this place for our family,” she said quietly. “Red-headed boys and raven-haired girls, Rusty used to say. A whole passel of ’em.”
She entered the pole barn and rested on a bale of last year’s hay, as if she was wearied by a weight he couldn’t see. Gabe followed her, then lowered himself to the concrete floor at her feet. He picked at the bale’s thin strands.
A gentle smile curved her lips and creased the corners of her eyes. “But there was only you. We’d count the days till your arrival and dreaded every good-bye. How we missed you when you weren’t here.”
He’d missed them too, but he found it hard to say the words. As much as his family had moved around, Whisper Lane had been a needed constant in his life. He flicked hay across the floor. “I used to pretend this was my home,” he said. “Especially after Mom died.”
“We wanted it to be. Even hoped for a while that it would be. But your dad couldn’t bear to give you up, not after he’d already lost so much.”
“You discussed it with him?”
“We did. I even had you enrolled in school here. Then he called one morning, said he was on his way to pick you up.” She gazed away, lost in memory. “That was a hard time. Letting you go when all we wanted to do was hold you close. Keep you here with us.”
“I didn’t know.” Surprised by the revelation, he chewed on a piece of hay. So Dad had wanted him. At least for one day. “I wish he’d let me stay here.”
“He missed you.”
“Maybe back then.”
She let the comment pass, not that there was anything for her to say. But the pity in her eyes only stoked his resentment. Dad had come to the jail shortly after his arrest but only to berate him for the mess he’d gotten himself into. Gabe didn’t see him again until the sentencing hearing. As he was led away in handcuffs, he’d spotted his father in the courtroom. Their eyes met for a moment, then Dad pivoted and marched out.
When
Gabe was released, he’d been handed an envelope containing the check, which Gabe had deposited in the bank, a few twenties for traveling expenses, and a brief handwritten note admonishing him not to squander his “new lease on life.”
What was that even supposed to mean?
“I think he’d have been happier if I’d died in Afghanistan,” Gabe said. “His son the hero instead of his son the felon.”
“You can’t believe that,” Tess said.
“He’ll never forgive me.”
“There’s nothing for him to forgive.” She squeezed his shoulder. “You did nothing wrong.”
“He obviously thinks I did.”
“But you know better. And so do I.”
He humphed and smiled at her. “Guess that’ll have to do, won’t it?”
“We’ve gotten sidetracked,” she said. “I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories.”
“I know.”
“What I wanted to say was that, if things had turned out differently, the stables would be yours. But now it’s mortgaged to the hilt, I’m behind on the payments, and I simply don’t know what to do. It’s my problem, though, and I don’t want you to be burdened by the mistakes I’ve made.”
“If you sold to Tapley, would you be better off?”
“From a strictly financial standpoint, yes. But it would break my heart to leave this place.”
“You’ll never have to. Not while I’m here.”
“You have your own life to live, Gabe. I don’t expect you to stay here indefinitely. Though I’m thrilled as punch that you’re here.”
“There’s no place I’d rather be,” he said. “And I’ve got no other place to go.”
“You say that now,” she said with a teasing lilt in her voice. “But what happens when a lovely young lady catches your eye? Or am I wrong in thinking that has already happened?”
He slightly reddened. “I have no idea who you’re talking about.”
“You keep telling yourself that.” She stood and brushed dust from her pants. “I’m headed to the house. Are you coming?”
“In a little bit. I’ll work some more on that wheel first.”
She walked to the edge of the barn, then turned back. “I do have a favor to ask.”
“Anything.”
“I’d rather no one knew about this. Mr. Tapley’s offer, I mean. Rumors can get out of hand real quick around here.”
She didn’t have to warn him against gossip. He’d been the object of more than his fair share of fabricated stories. “Tapley who?” he teased.
She smiled her appreciation, then left him. He leaned against the bale and let his thoughts wander. He wanted his future to be here. He’d dreamed it often enough while in prison. But he didn’t know if it would be possible.
Finding out that Tess considered accepting an offer for the stables had thrown him for a loop, but he had to admit she never would have done so unless she had no other choice. Then he’d shown up, and she had changed her mind. But what could he do to make the horse farm financially viable again? He hadn’t a clue.
Tess needed to be thinking about her own future instead of worrying about his. He couldn’t let her become financially destitute because either of them was emotionally attached to this place.
If selling was her only, her best, option for a secure future, then he couldn’t stand in her way.
Noble of him to say while he was sitting alone here in the barn. But the thought of Tapley owning this place sickened him. Surely there was another solution. Something else they could do instead.
17
Amy stepped back and eyed the placement of the stained glass art piece with a critical eye.
“This is exactly where AJ hung it.” Brett held the frame against the window. “I can see the nail hole.”
“No, you can’t.” She sidled to the left then to the right. “I spackled all the holes before I painted. Besides, AJ hung it crooked.”
“Dani didn’t complain when she lived here.”
“I live here now, and I want it perfect.”
“You need to make up your mind because this thing is heavy. If I drop it . . .”
“Don’t move.” She ascended the stepladder, held up the chain, and marked where to drill the holes for the anchors.
Brett set the art piece on the floor while Amy installed the two decorative hooks above the window. “That should do it,” she said. “Cross your fingers.”
“I suppose you want me to pick this thing up again,” Brett said.
“Please.” While he held the stained glass against the window, Amy settled its chain over the hooks. “All done. But be careful.”
Brett lowered the frame until the chain held its weight, then released his hold. Stepping back, he admired the vibrant colors of the glass. Amy descended the ladder and joined him.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“It’s perfect.” Colorful wildflowers, sheltered by the branches of a large tree, grew along the bank of a broad stream. When the sun’s rays gleamed through the glass, the reds, greens, yellows, and blues wavered on the cottage’s painted floor. “This is where it belongs. I’m glad AJ didn’t take it with him.”
“He bought it because it reminded him of Glade Creek.”
“Had Meghan ever been here?”
“I don’t think so.”
Amy dusted the frame and pretended to wipe at a speck on the glass. “I never understood why he tracked her down.”
“You’ll have to ask him.”
Something in Brett’s tone caught her attention. “That sounds mysterious.”
“I thought it was odd when he told me.” He slipped his hands in the pockets of his cargo shorts and rocked back on his heels. “Now I understand.”
“So are you going to tell me?”
“It’s his story. Not mine.”
“Do you wish he hadn’t? Found her, I mean.”
“Maybe at first, but not anymore.” His dimples deepened with the width of his smile. “I’m crazy about that kid.”
“He’s changed you.”
“I hope so.” Brett pulled out his phone, checked the screen for messages, then tapped it against his leg, rotated it, and tapped it again. “I’ll tell you something if you promise not to sneer.”
“I promise.”
He stared at her, as if weighing her sincerity, then took a deep breath. “Once upon a time, nothing was more important to me than my business. Making deals and making money. But God has given me a second chance.”
“A second chance at what?”
“To do life right.” He rotated the phone again, then pocketed it. “He gave me Jonah and then he gave me Dani. We’re a family, a loving and happy family. Something I never thought I’d have. Nothing else in this world is more important.”
What about me? She tamped down the question and asked another one instead. “What about Meghan?”
“We’ll never be best friends, if that’s what you mean. But she’s giving me a chance too. Besides, we both want what’s best for Jonah.”
Amy concentrated again on the nonexistent speck on the glass. Brett didn’t need to spell it out for her. If Somers Investments, Inc., went belly up tomorrow, he’d still have what he valued most. His wife and his son.
And money. He’d still have money.
He stood beside her and slung his arm over her shoulder. “You can have a second chance too, you know. All you have to do is take it.”
So easy for him to say. He’d always made his own rules. Even when his life went sideways, he stayed in control. Eventually Meghan gave in and let him see Jonah. When Dani ran away from him, he flew—actually flew on a plane, something none of them ever did—to Boise to bring her back home.
When Amy didn’t say anything, Brett kissed her temple. “Anything else you need help with?”
You want to help me? You’ve left me.
“Not right now,” she said. “Thanks.”
“Like you said, that piece belongs here.”
/> “Who knew AJ had such great taste?” she said, forcing lightness into her tone. Her thoughts had turned too gloomy, and she didn’t want to spend the rest of the day in a foul mood. She wanted to imbue the cottage with cheer and light, not sadness and self-pity.
“He’d be surprised to hear you say it.” As they neared the front door, Brett pointed to the room that AJ had used as an office. She’d painted the walls the palest pink she could find before adding the mirrors, lighted vanity, and portable wardrobe racks. “I just hope I’m here to see his face when he sees that.”
“What did you expect me to do with all my clothes? The bedroom has one closet. One. And it’s no bigger than a . . . than a . . .”
“Than a what?” The bemused tone in Brett’s voice was oh so irritating.
“It was made for a hobbit.”
“It couldn’t be that you have too many clothes?”
“Don’t even start with me. I’ve seen your wardrobe. All those suits and shirts and—”
“Okay, okay.” Brett laughed and held up his hands in surrender. “Why don’t you come over for supper? It’s Tex-Mex Thursday at our house.”
She hid her exasperation beneath a warm smile. “Thanks, but now that all the painting’s done, I have a few more boxes to unpack.”
“Sure you don’t need my help?”
“I can manage.”
“The offer stands in case you change your mind.”
“Brett.” She no longer hid her annoyance. “Leave.”
He grinned, flashing those dimples that caused even sensible women to swoon. Being his sister had one advantage—she was immune to his charm.
After closing the door after him, she went through her dressing room to the cottage’s only bedroom. Once she unpacked these last boxes, the cottage would be, well, maybe not home. But as close as she could get.
She settled on the bed with one of the smaller boxes, then reached inside. First she unwrapped a crystal bud vase that had belonged to Gran, then a glass box she kept on her dresser to hold odds and ends.
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