Chapter 16
16
A fter her conversation with Kent, Hope made her way upstairs, wondered if Sam would be in her room. She pictured him in bed, reading about a surgical procedure or the most effective way to create a rehab environment and the modalities involved.
But he wasn’t in her bed and while they’d spent every night together since that first night, part of her was relieved. How could she face him after what she’d just heard? Bad enough Kent had divulged that the company wanted to buy Mimi’s place, but worse, that if those plans fell through, they wanted Edgar Harrington’s property. Not only that, there was also a plan to take over a few of the businesses, pump them with cash and renovations in hopes they would increase visitors to the area. Goodness, she could not let this happen. It would ruin the town. If Mimi sold, it would ruin the Heart Sent. If she didn’t sell and they went after Edgar’s place? It would destroy the Heart Sent and it would kill anything she and Sam shared.
How had this happened? What was going on, and why would Martin agree to it? Hope tortured herself with these thoughts all night, and at seven fifteen the next morning she dialed his personal number.
“Hello?”
Martin was an early riser, and she’d counted on that. “Martin? We need to talk.”
“Hope, how are you? I take it you’ve seen Kent?”
“Seen him? He rolled into town last night, dispensed of courtesy and any form of politeness, and told me there’d been a change of plans to the project.” She gripped her cell, drew in a steady breath. “Please tell me that is not true.”
A three-second hesitation and then “That depends on what Kent said. If he told you I’m interested in purchasing the Heart Sent, then yes, I would entertain a conversation with Mimi Pendergrass. I would even welcome a few conversations with the businesses there—the diner, the grocery store, the bakery. But nothing’s been decided.”
“First, that is not what we discussed, and second, Kent made it sound like you were ready to barrel into town and if Mimi won’t sell, you’ll try to buy up another place…” She sucked in a breath, pictured Sam learning the news. “Like the vet’s place and the land attached to it.”
Big sigh. “Kent knows how to close a deal, but that boy is always trying to read into what hasn’t happened yet. I said I would consider it; I didn’t say I would do it. Same with Mimi Pendergrass and the Heart Sent. I’ll consider it. That’s all.”
“Martin, you can’t do this. People are starting to trust me and I don’t want to lose that. Please, what Kent’s suggesting will ruin this town. Can’t you see that?”
The man who’d called her a member of the family insisted he hadn’t decided yet and wouldn’t until he had more facts. When Hope finished the conversation, she tossed the phone aside, stared at the pillow. Sam had slept beside her the past several nights, his body next to hers, strong arm tucking her against him. Hope grabbed the pillow, clutched it to her, inhaled. His scent had already disappeared, as though he’d never been here, never touched her, never scorched her soul. Kent should not have come and yet, he would consider his presence necessary to get a deal, no matter what happened to the town.
Doing the right thing wasn’t always about convincing someone it was the best deal, and she should have seen that long before she arrived in Magdalena. Hope had been here less than a month, and yet her entire outlook on success, happiness, and contentment had shifted.
Was it because she’d taken time to slow down and look at the world and the people in it? Was it because she’d actually listened to what they had to say? And what part did Sam Harrington play? That last question snuffed out everything but the need to talk to him, make things right between them so they could continue on this path, that neither had wanted but could not ignore. She cared about him and it would be foolish to deny that. Hope rolled out of bed, headed to the shower, and thought about what she wanted to say to her ex.
Forty minutes later, she found Kent in the dining room, reading a newspaper and sipping coffee, a plate of blueberry pancakes and poached eggs in front of him. He glanced up when she entered, gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Someone’s been chatty this morning.”
Hope moved toward him, stopped when she was a foot away, and lowered her voice. “If you’re referring to Martin, then yes, I did tell him, and I suspect that comment means he spoke with you.”
An eye roll, a sigh, and then, “Yes, Saint Martin spoke to me and lectured me all about respecting other people and staying in my own lane, not taking their toys.” A laugh, a shake of his head. “My uncle always means well, but he knows who to turn to when something absolutely needs to get done. Go ahead and be the do- gooder, but when I put the numbers together and present them to Martin, he won’t be able to refuse.”
Ah, so Kent was going to play the “uncle” card. “Not necessarily. You had an opportunity with Reunion Gap, but before you were able to gather enough information, it sounds like you blew it because of your own self-interest and ego.” Oh, how she’d wanted to say this to him for so long, and now she wasn’t going to stop. “Have you ever thought about anyone other than your own self-interest? Ever considered doing the right thing and helping someone instead of convincing them your way was the right way?”
The laugh said he found her amusing. “That is so rich, especially coming from you. How many times have you put on that sweet smile and spoken words to people who were undecided about what to do? You’re the one who convinced them. Smile, encourage, tell them they deserve better.” His blue eyes turned hard, his mouth shifted into a frown. “Don’t pretend you’re any different than I am. I’m just willing to call it what it is, unlike you, who smiles and manipulates people to make them believe they’re doing what they want to do.”
Maybe she had been like that, but her eyes were open and she was not going to do that any longer. “You are not going to hurt these people. Martin gave me his word that you’d leave today.”
“Sure. I’ll do that, but first, I think I’ll enjoy my coffee and newspaper and these blueberry pancakes.” His gaze landed on the plate in front of him. “I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve had poached eggs but I intend to enjoy every bite. You can join me if you like. I welcome the company, but if you find that idea repulsive, perhaps you should dine elsewhere.” Pause and then “I wonder if the vet’s free.”
“Goodbye, Kent.”
A cold smile followed by “Think about what I said. This bed-and-breakfast-small-community idea is a gold mine and I’m not turning away from it—especially if it’s right here, in this town.”
“Go home. You aren’t wanted here.”
“Soon, you may not be wanted here either.” A shrug as he cut his pancakes, forked a mouthful. “Guess time will tell.”
“So, what was so important that we had to have a meeting at—” Pete Finnegan checked his watch, frowned “—seven fifteen? Elissa was up most of the night with the kid, which meant I was up, too since she’s pregnant and not feeling so great…” He took a big gulp of coffee, let out a long sigh. “I never thought something so little could cause you so much worry, and in a few months, I’ll have another one to worry about.”
Sam didn’t miss the affection in the guy’s voice. “You sound miserable.”
Pete grinned, shrugged. “What’s a little less sleep and a little more worry for the best gifts in the world?”
Sam wouldn’t know since he wasn’t a father, and while he’d always thought he’d become one at some point, who knew what might happen? Wanting didn’t always make things happen. Sometimes it wasn’t enough. Take his quasi-relationship with Hope. Just when he thought they were going to have to talk about how this non-relationship had turned into a real relationship, one with serious potential that could not be ignored or pretended around, the ex-boyfriend showed up. Piece of work. Overblown, full of himself, pain in the ass. How had Hope ever been attracted to a guy like that? But even as he asked the question, Sam wondered if the truth lay in the guy’s words last night. I wouldn’t be so sure Hope hasn’t adapted to her environment as opposed to choosing something she loves. She’s very good at it. I’ve seen her at black-tie-affairs and in boardrooms. Highly adaptable. Almost chameleon-like.
Maybe Hope thought money, power, and an overblown ego were acceptable in her world…even admirable. If so, what did that say about her? Worse, what did it say about the fact that Sam was attracted to such a person—again? He’d wanted to have that conversation last night, thought about waiting up for her, decided against it. Nothing good came of spouting accusations and demanding answers when a person was ticked off—and he’d been royally ticked. That’s why he’d avoided her, headed to his own room for a night of crappy sleep and called Pete for an early morning meeting.
“Hey, am I just going to talk to myself or do you plan to tell me what’s going on?”
How could he tell the guy when he didn’t know himself? No way could he admit that one, so he opted for a semi-plausible response. “I wanted to see how much longer you thought it would be until this place was ready.”
A raised brow, a curious “Ready? Can you define that term?”
“Livable. It wouldn’t have to be one-hundred-percent-move-in available, but I’d like a shower and a toilet.”
That blue gaze narrowed on him as though he could see right inside Sam’s head to the fact that this meeting had nothing to do with a move-in-status update. “Same answer I gave you three days ago. Livable could be another two weeks.” He slid him a smile, rubbed his stubbled jaw. “Guess I should add ‘barely’ to ‘livable’. I can have the guys work on a toilet and a basic shower…but beyond that? The plumbing won’t be complete and I can’t guarantee you’d have more than a dribble of water in the kitchen.” He blew out a sigh, shook his head. “We’ve got major electrical work to do, and then there’s insulation, and the guys still have to knock out the extra wall upstairs to enlarge the master bedroom. That could be another six weeks. You really can’t wait that long?” Pause and a casual “Or is there a reason you want to get out of the Heart Sent?”
Oh, what the hell. He and Pete had talked a few times about relationships; Pete did most of the talking, Sam listened. “We had a visitor at the Heart Sent last night… Hope’s ex.”
“I see. Bet that was interesting.” He removed his ball cap, tossed it on the table, and ran a hand through his longish hair. “So, was it a social call, or…”
“I’d say both. The guy acted like everybody should be happy to see him, especially Hope.” Kent Barclay was a jerk and Sam didn’t care how much money the guy had or who he was related to, he was still a jerk. “Who shows up at a bed-and-breakfast when the place is ready to shut down for the night? He didn’t care, said Mimi was waiting for him.” Sam snorted, shook his head. “Mimi’s too nice to say ‘no’ but she should have because he’s nothing but trouble.” He’d already caused issues between Sam and Hope even if she didn’t know it. Sam had a lot of questions for her, beginning with How did you ever fall for somebody like that and ending with Why is he really here and when is he going to leave?
“Yeah, I get why you’d be ticked. No guy wants to get upstaged by an ex, especially if the ex thinks he has a right to be in her world.”
What did he mean by that? “They work together. The personal stuff’s been over for a while.” How long had she told him? Four months? Three months? Had she told him an exact timeframe? This was why he did not want to get involved in a relationship again. The not knowing…the doubt…the damn jealousy…he hated all of it. And yet, no matter how much he’d tried to avoid getting involved with her, it had happened anyway. Now what. Now the hell what?
“Sam, why don’t you just ask her straight out what’s going on and if she still has feelings for the guy? Don’t say something like, How could you have been with somebody like that , or He’s all wrong for you…the guy’s a player … Don’t do that. It never ends well.” Pete sipped his coffee, set the cup on the table. “I’m not a counselor and I’ve had my share of problems…more than I like to admit. We didn’t trust each other enough, didn’t share as much as we should have… We got in too deep, too soon, and there was a lot we didn’t know about each other. You know, the kind of stuff you should know before you do something foolish like fall in love. But sometimes it’s just too late and then you have to work backwards. So, start backtracking, find out what’s going on and why he was in our town. Even if you don’t like the answer, you’ve got to respect it, decide if you can live with it. Same with their relationship, past or present. If it’s going to be a problem for you, then you’ve got to move on because it’ll eat you up.”
“I’m not exactly in love with the idea of sharing so much of myself right now.” Sam pretended to study the revised set of plans, focused on the mud room.
“That’s all you’ve got? You don’t want to ‘share so much right now’?” A deep belly laugh followed by a slap on Pete’s knee. “Show me one guy who wants to spit out his feelings? You think Nate Desantro wanted to do it? Cash Casherdon?” He shook his head, said in a voice filled with humor, “You think I did? I would’ve rather had a body part removed, but there was no avoiding it. Of course, once I said it, that’s when all of the other issues started. The ones I didn’t know about.” The blue gaze turned dark, his mouth pulled into a frown. “That was a friggin’ disaster.”
Sam had heard bits and pieces from his mother about Pete’s wife, Elissa, before she became his wife. Apparently, she’d been too na?ve and trusting, and that made her the perfect scapegoat for Gloria Blacksworth’s blackmail letters. Oh, man, when the town found out Elissa was the one who’d mailed the letters, there were fireworks, and an attempt to drive her out of town. Pete was right in the middle of it and the wedding they’d planned almost didn’t happen. You’d never know they’d had issues if you didn’t hear the story or weren’t here to witness it, but the expression on Pete’s face and the tone in his voice said more than Sam’s mother had. “What if I don’t know how I feel…or what if I know, but don’t want to feel that way?”
Pete cursed under his breath. “Stop. You think our fathers sat around and debated their feelings before they told our mothers, if they actually ever told them? Who knows with that generation… My guess is they didn’t overthink it. They knew what they felt and they knew what they were willing to do about it. Maybe that’s the way to go. Maybe we’re the ones who have it all wrong. Make a commitment and hang in there, no matter what.” He shot him a look, corrected, “But you have to choose the right one. Get the wrong one like your ex-wife and my ex-fiancée and it’s never going to work, no matter what you do or what you say. You’re done before you even get started. But…the right one? Now that’s when you start to believe life can be damn good as long as she’s by your side.”
“I know what you’re trying to do and it’s not going to work.” Just because a former hellion like Pete Finnegan had turned into a devoted husband and father, did not mean everyone found their person. In fact, the transformation might not mean anything other than he’d been lucky and willing to give it a shot.
That comment made Pete laugh. “Sure, we’ll go with that one, but word has it Hope Newland is high-end, and she’s into you which means she’s willing to overlook the baggage because she thinks you’re worth it.” He shook his head, blew out a long sigh. “It takes a special woman to put up with our crap because men can be real pains…especially ones like us. You know what I’m talking about: closed off, thinks he doesn’t need anybody, not sure he’ll ever share anything, especially not his heart. And then… she comes along.” Another laugh, a nod. “Yup, and there’s not a damn thing you can do to stop the heat. You can try, but it’s not going to work. So, why don’t you just own it and tell her?”
Pete Finnigan had pretty much summed up what was happening in Sam’s head, but owning up and doing something about it? How would that even look? Sam took a deep breath, swallowed. “It’s a big risk. A lot of exposure…a lot of…”
“Right. But what happens if you do nothing? Stay quiet, pretend she doesn’t matter, and doesn’t own your world. What then? She’s going to walk away and head back to a life that doesn’t include you.”
“Sounds about right.” The possibility that in a few weeks, he’d never see Hope again, squeezed his chest. No more conversations, no more touches, no more. “What if she’s not interested?” He tried to keep his voice even, his expression unreadable.
“No idea, but what if she is? Don’t you want to know?” When Sam didn’t answer, Pete shrugged and pulled out the house plans. “Okay, enough of that. Let’s talk about something fun—” he grinned, spread the plans on the table in front of them “—like exhaust fans in the master bathroom.”
Sam tried to concentrate as Pete discussed the placement of the shower and toilet, but Sam couldn’t get that conversation out of his head. The guy’s words stayed with him as he drove to work, parked the truck, and headed into the clinic. Okay, maybe Pete was right. Sam did care about Hope and there was no pretending he didn’t. They had to stop dancing around their feelings and have a “real” conversation, one that didn’t shy away from emotions or the fear of getting hurt. He checked his watch, calculated the hours until he saw her again, and then went in search of his father. He found him in an empty exam room, staring out of the window. “Dad? Are you okay?”
His father turned to face him, his complexion pale, his mouth pulled into a tight line. “How could you choose the wrong woman— again ?”