Chapter 4
4
“ D on’t you worry, I’ll help you.” Mimi smiled, her tone soothing as she opened the folder, scanned one page and then another. She’d made it through three pages before she closed the folder and eased it toward Hope. “Dear, what are you trying to achieve here? You’ve got names and places, but they don’t tell you anything. There’s no life on these pages, nothing that points a person in one direction or another.”
“That’s where I thought you could help.” It had never been necessary to become so personally involved with a business prospect, but Mimi and the residents of Magdalena weren’t business prospects. They were people with opinions, backstories, and curiosity and she had no idea how to connect with them. Small towns were skeptical of new people, especially ones who asked a lot of questions and acted like they had a plan that would save the residents from their small-town thinking.
Yes, she remembered the comments and the looks, all centered around a better way to think, to act, to live… to become. Her mother had latched onto all of it, spent years working to transform Hope from the curious child who detested shoes, loved reading about dragons and wizards, embraced thrift-store clothing, and didn’t care if her friends weren’t “popular” into someone who did care—about all of it—the reading material, the clothing, the friends. Even the speech patterns, facial expressions, and posture mattered, as did the pearls, which according to Abigail Newland could make a person appear credible.
It took three years of therapy for Hope to understand her mother’s manipulation and another two to begin to move past it. From the outside, Hope Amanda Newland possessed equal amounts of intelligence, confidence, and business savvy, capable of handling any situation. But inside she still fell back to the child whose mother didn’t believe she was good enough and wanted to turn her into someone else. It took work, but Hope did away with the need to practice her speech patterns, and study hand gestures and facial expressions. She still preferred a well-curated designer look and an air of confidence. Both helped her retain control of situations, and she very much needed to feel in control. She could blame her mother for the scars of uncertainty and doubt that lived deep inside, but what good would it do? Even if her mother were alive, she’d deny all of it, claim she was only trying to teach Hope the realities of life.
She blew out a long breath, thought about her current predicament. She’d arrived in this town less than twenty-four hours ago, and already, that control was slipping. She needed help. One more breath, a clearing of her throat. “Can you help me, Mimi?” Another breath, a soft “Please?”
“I’m happy to guide you, but you’ll have to do the legwork. Talk to people, share a cup of coffee or iced tea, and listen to their stories. Most are happy to share.” She pointed to the folder, shook her head as her red ball earrings bounced about. “Lives are not contained on pieces of paper, or spreadsheets all neat and numbered. People are filled with emotion and stories and you have to get the feel of it all in order to understand it. Even then, you might not really understand.” She sipped her tea, hesitated a moment, as though considering what and how much to share. “Let’s take Sam Harrington. Nice young man, smart as they come, had his life planned out, and nobody was going to stop him. Why he even planned to return to Magdalena one day and take over his father’s vet practice. The boy was all set. And talk about loving your parents? He idolized his father; said if he could be one-tenth the kind of man Edgar Harrington was, he’d be happy. But then life fell apart and the choices he made landed right on top of him. That poor boy lost the logic, the plans, and a straight path to success, and it all started and ended with a woman.”
Hope stared at Mimi, waited for her to expand on Sam Harrington’s story and when she didn’t, Hope said, “I see.” No doubt it involved a break-up. It had happened with some of her coworkers, even one of the women she loosely called “friend”. Most never saw it coming, but when it did, they had to reassess and re-work their lives.
“They’re divorced now. She’s in Chicago, and he’s…” She took a healthy swallow of tea. “He’s trying to find his way back to the person he always thought he’d be. It’s going to take time, and it won’t be easy. His father barely speaks to him and that’s tricky since they both work at the vet clinic. Edgar is so hurt by what Sam did that he can’t see what a talented doctor his son is, how valuable he is to the practice, and how he could help make it flourish. No, Sam’s father isn’t interested in what his son might do. He only wants to remember what he didn’t do and how he gave up his family for a woman who didn’t value or appreciate him.”
Hope did not want to have such a personal discussion about a man she didn’t know. She’d always believed in privacy and respecting personal boundaries, but her mother had never understood that concept, insisted it was her duty to advise and assist in her daughter’s quest for a full life. As if the woman knew what that even meant. The only way to stop the questions and the prying was to fabricate. I’m seeing someone and there’s a lot of potential. Do you want to hear about him? It could be serious.
How serious?
Not sure, but it could be big. More fabrication as she’d created the dream choice that would gain her mother’s approval.
Abigail Newland died of complications from double pneumonia three months before Hope began dating Kent. Maybe her mother’s death had made her vulnerable or in some strange way, she’d wanted to find someone because her mother had wanted that so much. Hope let out a long sigh, wished she’d had a mother who could love her for herself and not who she wanted her to be. She slid a glance at Mimi, caught the woman studying her.
“You were miles away, and not in a happy place.” Her blue eyes narrowed the tiniest bit, her voice gentled. “Magdalena is the perfect place to relax, contemplate, and gain perspective.” She nodded, her lips pulling into a smile. “I think you’ll like what you find out, and I’ll bet you’ll leave this place a lot calmer—” her gaze darted from Hope’s chignon to her pearl necklace “—and who can’t use a bit more calm?”
Calm? Why would Mimi say that? Hope practiced breathing techniques, yoga, meditation, read books, had even journalled once or twice. Okay, so maybe she only felt true “calm” when she was involved in these activities, but not being calm gave her an edge in business, one that helped propel her toward the next promotion. As for calm in her personal life? She preferred to call it the ability to remain unattached from deep emotion, thereby protecting herself from the rawness of caring too much. Hope bet Sam Harrington understood all about that.
“Please don’t say anything to Sam about his ex-wife or the strained relationship with his father.” Mimi’s expression filled with empathy. “People don’t realize that life changes in an instant. They think they have so much time to make things right on their terms… When they’re ready… if they’re ever ready… And they tell themselves that if they’re never ready, no loss to them. What they don’t realize is that one day the chance may be gone, stripped away in an instant, and there is no going back, no forgiveness, or ‘I’m sorry’. The other person is gone and you’ll spend the rest of your life wishing you’d found a way to make peace and mend the hurt.”
Mimi spoke as though she were talking about herself. “Life is full of joy and sorrow, pain and happiness, and forgiveness. I do hope Sam and his father can find a way back to one another, start over, and maybe one day Sam will be able to open his heart to love again.”
Everyone in Magdalena knew about Pete Finnegan and his reckless past. Drag racing down Elderberry Road, drinking at Boone’s Peak, sneaking out of Lina’s Café without paying. Pete and his old man were always at each other, until one day, Pete just up and left town. Word had it he headed west. His father never talked about it, but Pete returned a few years ago with a woman, and Sam guessed she was the reason he settled down. Now, the guy ran a construction business, developed property, and owned quite a bit of land. If you didn’t know his backstory, you’d never guess about the rocky past.
Sam had contacted Pete about renovating the old farmhouse he’d purchased five months ago. He’d still been living in Chicago and hadn’t been ready to tell his parents he was moving back to Magdalena. Too many questions, no good answers other than the need to get away from reminders of his past and the person he’d become. He wasn’t sharing that , so he kept quiet and hired a real estate agent to find him a place with land.
Jerome Eldridge’s property was located on the outside of town along a winding country road that had been dubbed Devil’s Trail. The place had been vacant almost two years, since the morning Jerome passed away at the kitchen table, a half-finished bowl of oatmeal in front of him. Sam guessed nobody wanted twelve acres and a run-down farmhouse. Nobody except him. He bought the place without ever stepping inside the house, or checking out the garage or the barn. And while he would have liked to walk the piece of property, the logistics didn’t work. Pictures and videos provided sufficient detail and the obvious: the place was falling apart and needed a lot of work. Good because Sam needed a way to fill his time when he wasn’t working, and the state of the place gave him leverage to negotiate a lower price.
He would have paid asking price, but the real estate agent seemed eager to close the deal, even at the reduced offer. Twelve acres of fields and quiet. He’d missed the sunsets, the morning dew, the calm. It was the closest he’d come to peace in a long while. Sam rubbed his jaw, glanced at Pete Finnegan who sat in a folding chair next to a small wooden table with scratches and paint chips. Definitely not like the furniture in Chicago.
“I sketched out a few ideas for the kitchen.” Pete tipped back his ball cap, scratched his forehead. No mistaking the calluses on his hands for anything other than working hands. There’d been rumors about Pete’s life in California, ones that involved private jets, penthouse views, and fancy cars—not calluses or a pickup truck. But damn if the guy didn’t look happy.
“Let’s see what you’ve got.” He’d seen Pete’s work and the guy had a knack for matching the owner with the house, adding in details Sam didn’t even know he wanted until he saw them on the plans. Sam spread the plans on the small table between them, studied the dimensions for the kitchen, read the notes scribbled on the side. He rubbed his jaw, pointed to an area near where the stove would go. “What do you think about a double wall oven next to the stove? Is there enough room? And soffits above the cabinets? Yes, or no?” Celeste had hired a designer to gut the condo and rebuild it one section at a time, mostly based on the “who’s who” and what was popular. Trendy. Chic. Very expensive. He hadn’t liked those choices then and he didn’t want it now. Sam wanted functional. Comfortable. Casual.
“We can go either way, depending on preference.”
A shrug, a sigh. “Heck if I know. I’m not looking for a showpiece or a museum. It’s got to be a comfortable living space that doesn’t seem like it’s come from a designer magazine.”
Pete Finnegan’s lips twitched. “You mean like the last one? The one that made the ‘Home’ section of that fancy magazine?”
How had he heard about that? Sam scowled, didn’t hide his annoyance. “Yeah, like that.”
The lip twitch turned into a full-blown smile, followed by a laugh. “Touchy. Don’t let anyone see how much those comments get to you or they won’t stop. In fact, they’ll keep going until they burrow in like a splinter.” Another laugh, a loud sigh. “Especially stay cool around Cash Casherdon. That guy is relentless. Do not let him see his words annoy you. If you do, you won’t stand a chance.”
Great. Just what he needed. Cash Casherdon zeroing in on Sam and his past missteps. “Thanks for the warning. Unfortunately, I’m sure my parents––and no doubt my sister––have already shared too much.”
“Not so sure about that.” Pete shook his head. “Our families might get ticked with us, but I’ve found they’re big on protecting us. I used to think my old man stayed quiet about my exploits out west because he didn’t want the embarrassment landing on him, but that wasn’t it at all. I think he was protecting me . You know, trying to save my reputation.” The belly laugh said that wasn’t possible. “The same might be true for you because since I’ve been back, I only hear bits and pieces from my wife.” His expression softened, his voice shifted two decibels lower. “Elissa loves a good second-chance story and I guess she thinks you’ve got one coming.” Pause then a curious, “She’s even convinced there’s going to be a Mrs. Harrington one day.”
“Uh, I’ve had one of those and not looking for another one.” How had they gotten on this topic and how could he get out of it?
“Sure, we all say we’re not looking for ‘the one’ and then she lands in our path and no matter where we look or how hard we try to get away, she’s still there.” Pete eyed him a full five seconds before his lips twitched and he said, “Just keep your options open because I guarantee you if she’s the right one, you’re done. I’m living proof of that.”
“Hmm. Last I heard, you were living it high in California, heading for some big merger, and never planned to land in this town again.”
Pete Finnegan’s expression turned dark, his voice fierce. “I was a fool who hunted danger. The more daring, the more I wanted it. You know what they say about getting too close to the fire? I got scorched and lost everything. I didn’t think I’d ever recover, most of all, I guess I didn’t think I deserved it. I went from being a hotshot gazillionaire to losing everything: the houses, the cars, the girl. That’s when I learned the only thing that mattered was what stayed.” His blue gaze settled on Sam, the brackets around his mouth deep. “I heard about you and your old man, how you headed to Chicago for the glitz and glamour with your uptown wife instead of taking over your dad’s vet practice. Yeah, our fathers don’t do well when someone welches on a deal, especially if that someone is their kid.”
“It wasn’t exactly like that…”
Pete raised a brow. “No? Huh, close enough though, right?” Sam’s shrug gave the man his answer. “That’s what I thought. Since I’m sharing the word on the street, which I gathered from my over-involved wife, I’ll tell you the rest. I also heard that since you’ve been back, he doesn’t much trust you to do more than hand out flea and heartworm prevention. Big deal.” He rubbed his stubbled jaw, blew out a sigh. “That’s gotta be rough because you’re an educated guy, and after all of that reality crap you were into with your ex, it’s got to be tough not to get back into real doctoring.”
Did everybody know his life history? “I’m glad I’m such an interesting topic of conversation, and everybody’s drawn their opinions about me.” This was what he didn’t like about small towns and family being in your business.
“Nobody knows for sure; it’s all just guesswork but let me tell you from somebody who’s been there. Keep them guessing. Don’t admit to anything, and when Pop Benito stone-cold stares at you and acts like he lives inside your head, don’t blink. Do not let him get in your head. Of course, he won’t give up… And what about Harry Blacksworth? Lucky for us, he’s the new Godfather of Magdalena, double trouble. Way more touchy-feely than Pop.”
“Harry’s left me alone so far.” Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, dreaded the possibility of Pop and Harry tag-teaming him with personal questions.
That comment made Pete laugh. “The guy’s biding his time but be careful. He’ll make you think about things you don’t want to and if you’re not careful, you will tell him your life story. Of course, it will be with the help of his finest scotch, but it will spill out, no doubt about it. Once Harry gets a hold of that news, he’ll want to fix it, which means he’ll want to fix you because Harry can’t stand to see anyone unhappy. If a woman catches your eye, do not let him know.”
“Pete, I’m not interested in any woman. I’ve had enough grief in that department for a long time.”
“Sure, I know exactly what you’re talking about because I said the same thing and then I got hired to fix this old cabin for Nate and Christine Desantro. I was ornery, miserable, and just wanted to be alone.” He mumbled a curse under his breath. “I never expected to find her there.”
Despite Sam’s attempts to disengage from the conversation, he’d grown curious. “Her?”
“Elissa Cerdi. The woman who stole my heart, my words, and my common sense, all before I knew her last name.”
“Really?” That sounded almost impossible.
A headshake, a loud sigh. “Oh, yeah. Now I’ve got a wife, a little boy, and another on the way. I’ve got a dog, too. I’m a real family man, and nobody saw that happening, not even my mother. Elissa was definitely the right woman for me, but too bad she brought her own brand of trouble.” His expression turned dark, his words harsh. “That’s another story, and I’d just as soon leave it in the past.”
The heat in his words kept Sam from asking for details—not that he would because it was none of his business. Pete Finnegan was a straight shooter and Sam liked the no-nonsense attitude and the fact that the guy had crashed and burned and made it out of the rubble to get another shot at fixing his life. “I’m all for moving on and leaving the past where it should be…in the past. How about you get this place to a livable state so I can move in? I just need a place to sleep, a toilet that flushes, and a shower. A kitchen area would be nice, but I can get by with a hot plate. If you can get me to that point, I can check out of the Heart Sent, and you can keep working on this place. And thanks for fitting me in. I really appreciate it.”
“Hey, it’s kind of hard to ignore you when you remind me too much of myself.” A shrug and then “I know what it’s like to turn away from your family, leave town, and make some really questionable choices. After a while, I didn’t recognize myself because I was buried in so many layers of BS—wrong friends, wrong woman, wrong life. I had to lose everything to open my eyes and reassess before I destroyed myself. It wasn’t easy, but it was humbling and I guess it was necessary to find my way back.”
“I’d be happy if my father didn’t scowl every time he saw me.”
A laugh followed by a look that said he understood. “Hang in there. Keep your temper. It’ll happen.”