by Lori Ryan
Stunned gazes met his and he knew what they were thinking. All six of them had run far and fast when they’d left Canyon Creek years before. Coming back wasn’t an option. Only, now, it had to be.
“Move back?” Grant jerked his head. Having been born only three minutes after his twin, Jake, Grant was officially the youngest Sumner son. “As in live here, in Canyon Creek?”
Ben didn’t want to live in their small home town any more than his brothers did. He glanced out the window at Canyon Creek Mountain, noting the snow that had blanketed his father’s funeral was finally letting up. “Yes. Live here.”
“I can’t do that. My career is in California,” Grant said, sounding like the baby he was.
Ben bit down a harsh response. He would never intentionally hurt his brother by pointing out what everyone in the room knew thanks to the tabloids.
Grant had been an A-list actor this time last year, sought after by most studios execs. But one messy divorce and a shit-ton of poor choices stacked on top of some pretty public battles with his manager had left his bank accounts drained and himself damn near unemployable.
“Maybe MTV will offer you a reality show here in Colorado.” Max snorted. “I can see it now,” he said, waving his hands in the air as if revealing a marquee, ‘Washed-Up Actors Gone Wild.’”
“Yeah?” Grant shot back. “And maybe Trojan condoms will sponsor your next season with their new mini-man-sized line.”
Max was the notorious bad boy of the National Football League, no matter how hard he tried to deny it to the press, and their mother. An attack on his manhood was the best way to piss off Max, and Grant knew it.
The other brothers joined in the laughter this time.
Ben slammed his hand on the table, making them jump. “I’m serious, guys! Mom is royally screwed here. I don’t know what Dad was thinking, mortgaging the lodge and the land to finance renovations and expansions.” The thought that their mom might lose her dream right after losing their dad gutted him. Ben wouldn’t let that happen.
“How much did they borrow?” Jake asked.
Ben hesitated “Almost two million dollars.”
“Two million dollars!” Emmett shouted. “What the hell?”
“I know.” Ben shook his head in disbelief.
“They mortgaged the land?” Max asked, looking like he might be sick.
Ben didn’t blame him. As much as he didn’t want to live in Canyon Creek again, there’d always been something comforting about knowing his family had a history here. That history was in the land, and it went without saying, they’d all always believed that land would be in the family for generations to come.
The boys had grown up on the northern quarter of Canyon Creek Mountain. The large chunk of acreage that began at the base and went up the northern face of the mountain had been in their family since the tiny town of Canyon Creek was established in the 1800s. At one point, they’d owned more, but that had been lost decades before to the Noble family—a ridiculously ironic name
Now, the Nobles owned three quarters of the mountain, and the Sumners hung onto their quarter with fierce tenacity. Until now.
“Of course, the land too,” Ben said. “This place—the location—is the value, not the out-cropping of buildings.” Ben shouldn’t have to explain this, but his brothers just weren’t getting it.
None of the boys had argued when their parents built a six-bedroom bed and breakfast five years ago after retiring. It had been successful and a good diversion for his nosy mother. Of course, the fact the Nobles ran a lucrative ski resort on the opposite side of the mountain meant the bed and breakfast had a built-in customer base and had done well from the start.
But a few years ago, his parents had started to expand, believing their years of success with the small bed and breakfast would grow exponentially. The Lodge at Canyon Creek had been born and construction started, despite his and his brothers’ concerns over the size of the project.
The building was now complete and included a stunning main lodge with 27 guest rooms and three suites. Construction on seven free-standing cabins had already begun, as well as renovations to a junky old barn. His hopelessly romantic mother dreamed of making the dilapidated structure into a wedding venue soon.
What his parents hadn’t explained to Ben, or any of his brothers, was how they’d funded the expansion. His usually budget-conscious father, the one who rarely gave his sons anything but grief, had taken out a nearly two million-dollar loan. If this expansion didn’t pay off, if his family couldn’t fill these rooms and soon, his mother could lose everything.
“What about life insurance?” Jake asked. “Surely dad had life insurance?” Grant’s twin was a political strategist, working on some of the most successful campaigns in Washington. Given his strong strategic skills, Ben had hoped Jake would volunteer to move back first to help him develop a solid plan for repayment. They needed someone who could see the big picture and make shit happen without involving sentiment or emotion. Ben realized he’d just included himself in that scenario when he had zero interest in being there. Who the hell cared, as long as they figured this out.
“The insurance will help,” Ben said, “but it’s not enough. The payout is only one hundred thousand. When you factor in his hospital stay and the funeral costs…” He let the sentence trail off. His brothers could do the math. He didn’t mention the terms of the loan yet.
“No savings?” their middle brother, Emmett, asked.
Emmett was a writer. He could write anywhere. It wouldn’t be hard for him to relocate. At least Ben prayed it wouldn’t. Their mom would need all of them to spend some time in Colorado over the next year-and-a-half.
Ben shook his head. “They had savings, but they sunk it all into the bed and breakfast when they first built it.” Ben drew in a deep breath. “This place,” he waved his hands around the room, “this lodge is now their retirement. Mom’s retirement,” he corrected. “And she can’t do it alone.”
Ben scrubbed a hand down his face. He’d been just as stunned when he discovered how much his mom and dad had leveraged themselves and the land for the expansion, but he needed his brothers to process the situation quickly before their mother caught them. Valerie Sumner was a proud woman and would never actively ask for their help. She wouldn’t be happy if she caught them all talking about her finances.
Emmett, always the consummate introspective, steepled his fingers under his chin. “But they’ve run the bed and breakfast for five years now. Hasn’t it been profitable? Shouldn’t the lodge do just as well?”
So much for skipping the details of the loan and its covenants, Ben thought. “The bed and breakfast was profitable after their second year of operation,” Ben said, “which is remarkable in the business world. But we don’t have two years. The loan has covenants we have to meet every quarter.”
“What the hell is a covenant?” Grant asked.
“A covenant is a specific condition of the loan that a company must meet,” Ben said. “Requirements like, hitting certain ratios of income to expenses, meeting room capacity, stuff like that.” Ben scanned the room, not surprised at the blank faces staring back at him. He had to cut to the chase. “It’s not just about making payments. If Ma doesn’t meet those conditions, the bank can foreclose. On everything.”
His brothers seemed to be digesting the information so he went on. “Dad didn’t take a salary. Their plan was for him to draw wages after the first year or two of operations. If mom has to pay people to take over his work load, that’s a huge line item in the expense column. When the bank sees that, she’ll be screwed. We’ll be screwed. We won’t meet some of the covenants. They just…” Ben shook his head, “Mom and Dad expanded way too fast, way too soon.”
“Dad never could say no to Mom,” Jake said, stating what they all knew as fact. Their father had been able to say no to his sons plenty, but never their mom.
“Look, we just buried Dad like—” Grant glanced down at his watch “—two hours
ago. Do we need to do this now?”
“I know,” Ben said, “I’m sorry to spring this on you, but I don’t have a choice. I had no idea how dire their financial situation was.”
“If mom loses the lodge and the land, you know Dad will haunt us all for the rest of our lives.” Emmett laughed.
“Never mind Dad. Great-great-great grandpa Lazarus Sumner will come back from the grave to haunt us all.” Grant shook his head. “It was bad enough the guy lost half our land to the Nobles when he was alive over a hundred years ago. If we lose the rest of the mountain, that old man will never let us have a moment’s peace.”
Ben had yet to mention the fact that his mom and dad had secured the loan through the local bank—a bank whose board held more than one Noble family member who probably wouldn’t be sad to see the Sumner name fail. His brothers had enough to worry about right now.
“What if we pool our money?” Jake asked.
“I don’t have shit for money right now,” Grant answered.
“And I’m swamped in medical school loan payments,” Aaron added.
Grant glanced at Ben. “What about you, Ben? Isn’t your company going public this year? You should make a shit-ton of money with that.”
Ben rubbed the back of his neck. There was no denying he was less satisfied with the management of the company lately, but he wasn’t willing to admit that to anyone. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his company. He did. He was proud of it. But, he had to admit, he was bored.
“We’re still deciding,” Ben mumbled, shoving the thoughts from his mind. He could give his mom a few hundred thousand, maybe more. He lived comfortably. But two million dollars without time to raise it? Not going to happen.
“I’ll pay it,” Max said.
Everyone turned and stared at him, not surprised by his offering. He may be notorious with the women, but everyone knew the all pro wide-receiver had a giver’s heart.
“Thanks, Max,” Ben said. “I appreciate that. We all do. But you know Ma. She would never take our money.”
“So, what makes you think she’ll take our help?” Emmett asked.
“She’s too proud,” Jake said.
“Too stubborn,” Max added. His other brothers nodded in agreement.
“Does Mom know about this? The bank note I mean?” Jake asked.
“I don’t know. I assume so. Her signature is there next to Dad’s.”
“Does she know you know?” Aaron asked.
“I’m pretty sure.” He paused, knowing his proposal wouldn’t go over well. “If we could all come back to help over the next eighteen months—”
“Eighteen months!” Grant cursed under his breath. “That’s almost two years.” He shook his head and pushed back in his chair. “No way, man.”
Max shot him a glaring look. “What the hell are you bitching about loser? It’s not like you have a career waiting for you.”
“Me a loser?” Grant shot to his feet. “I’m an Oscar winner, asshole. You’re the lying sack of shit who’s playing on borrowed time, asshole.”
Max bolted from his chair, arms outstretched as he lunged over the table for Grant. Max might have blown out both knees during his ten-year career in the NFL, but his hands worked just fine.
“What the hell, guys?” Aaron slid across the table to break them apart. “We’re not ten years old.”
“Let them be.” Emmett leaned back in his chair, crossing his hands behind his head. “More inheritance for me.”
Grant released his hold on Max and glared at Emmett. “You’re not taking our fucking inheritance,” he growled.
“There is no fucking inheritance you morons!” Ben yelled. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. There’s only this lodge and the land it sits on.” He waved a hand around the room. “And a loan that will wipe Mom out financially and take it all away from us for good if we don’t step in and fix this.” He lowered his voice. “Mom needs this, guys. She needs us.”
He and his brothers might not want to come home, but the fact remained, they’d all do anything for their mother.
“She’ll really lose it all if this place doesn’t take off?” Emmett asked.
“Yes.” Ben blew out a frustrated sigh and nodded his head.
Silence rang through the room.
Max released his hold on Grant and fell into his chair. “So, tell us your great plan for saving the lodge, big brother.”
Ben pulled his chair closer to the table. “Well, Mom has zero business skills. She thrives on the people side of running the lodge—interacting with the guests, regaling them with the history of Canyon Creek.”
“Showing off her Bon Jovi memorabilia,” Aaron snorted.
They all laughed. His mother’s obsession with all things Jon Bon Jovi was borderline obsessive. It was rivaled only by his Aunt Sally’s Journey mania and Aunt Lisa’s fixation on Van Halen. The battles between the three women over the ’80s iconic hair bands were the stuff of family—and town—legend.
“It was Dad who kept the accounting side of things going,” Ben continued, “but having him here to carry the expanded workload of the new space was crucial to them making money for the first year out. Replacing him would essentially mean hiring another manager, or at the very least, a lot of staff to take over his workload.”
“Crap,” Jake said.
“Yeah,” Ben agreed, “Mom can’t afford to pay another salary if she hopes to meet the covenants and, eventually, pay the debt.” Ben raked a hand through his thick hair. “I thought if we all moved back for a little while, between the six of us we could oversee the final renovations and work on ways to cut back on expenses.”
“Eighteen months is more than a little while, bro.” Emmett used air quotes as he spoke.
Ben got it. He had never planned to return to Canyon Creek any more than his brothers had when he’d dropped out of college and fled his hometown to start his company. “I know.” Ben sighed. “But it doesn’t have to be the full eighteen months. We’ll rotate. Maybe two at a time, for like six months, or whatever we can manage, I don’t know.” He shrugged.
“I can’t.” Aaron said flatly, shaking his head. “I’m sorry guys, but I’m finishing up my fellowship at Northwestern Memorial in Chicago. I can’t leave now.”
“What about a sabbatical?” Ben asked.
“Are you kidding?” Aaron laughed but the sound was devoid of humor. “Give up a fellowship in cardiac surgery at Northwestern? It would be professional suicide.”
“And I can’t stay,” Max said. “It’s playoff time.”
“You’re benched.” Grant laughed sarcastically.
Max saluted his youngest brother with his favorite finger. “I’m on the injured reserve list, asshole. I’ll be back on the field as soon as the docs approve me. Besides, my contract requires me to be on that bench. I don’t get to sit home eating bonbons with my thumb up my ass like some people.”
“Whatever.” Grant rolled his eyes.
Ben stared at Emmett, who was deep in thought.
Emmett was the quieter brother, more introspective. He often didn’t speak without careful consideration in a situation like this. Jake was more contemplative too, unlike Grant and Max, who’d never learned to temper their anger, or their mouths. They’d always chosen to act without thought, and often times paid a high price for their impulsivity.
Ben focused on Emmet now. “What about you, Em?”
Emmett’s head jerked up, his eyes narrowing. “What about me?”
“You can write from anywhere, can’t you?”
Emmett raised his brows. “And you can program computers from anywhere, too.” It was a statement not a question.
He and Emmett locked eyes, silently caught in a battle of the wills, just like they’d done since childhood.
“Ugh,” Emmett frowned, falling back in his seat, “fine. I’ll stay. But not for eighteen months.”
Ben smiled, relieved at least one Sumner brother was committed to saving the lodge. He could run hi
s business from here for a few months. If he and his brothers staggered themselves over the next year, they could give their mom enough time to get this done and none of them would have to sacrifice all they’d built in their own lives.
Ben nodded at Emmett. “Good. You and I will be the first wave. What about the rest of you?” Ben glanced at Jake, Aaron, Max and Grant. “When can you guys clear some time?”
“I can come for a few months once the season is over,” Max offered.
Ben grinned. “Thanks, man. I plan on sticking around for a few months at the very least. I can work remotely for the time being but I’ll need to fly back to Seattle for a day or two first. I need to set things up with my office staff for a long absence.”
Jake, Aaron, and Grant remained quiet. Ben would let them absorb the information for a day or two. He knew they’d figure out a way to get back here and pitch in. They had to.
Max stood and rounded the table, reaching out to squeeze Ben’s shoulder. “Thanks bro, I’ll do as much as I can to help from Tampa.”
“You know, Benny Boy,” Grant waggled his brows, “there’s one fringe benefit to staying here in Canyon Creek, right?”
“Free pies from Aunt Sally’s bakery?” Aaron asked.
“That, too,” Grant nodded. “But nah, I’m talking about Maggie Lawrence.”
Ben’s shoulders stiffened at the mention of Maggie’s name. He was surprised when other body parts stiffened, too. Christ. Ben thought he was well past his infatuation with Maggie Lawrence and her effect on him. Obviously not.
Max released Ben’s shoulder. “You okay, man?”
“Oh my God, I forgot about Maggie Lawrence,” Jake chuckled.
“Ben’s had a hard-on for that girl since freshman year of high school.” Emmett smirked.
Ben glared at them. “Screw all of you.”
“But you have to admit,” Emmett said, “having Maggie Lawrence around as the lodge’s manager makes this pill a little easier to swallow.”