Chapter 4 #2
Then there’d been the January of 2010, when he’d come home for Granddaddy’s birthday and Old Man Winter had dumped almost ten inches of snow on them.
Ben had checked in quite a few stranded travelers.
His grandparents had opened all the rooms and cottages and fired up the kitchen to feed anyone who needed something to eat.
Granddaddy had grilled up all the meat he could, and Granny had made batch after batch of cookies.
Ben himself had stirred up several gallons of hot chocolate, tea, and coffee.
The fireplace had roared with hot flames, and one of the guests had sat at the piano, playing request after request.
We’re having us a slumber party, Granny had said.
Ben laughed softly, remembering her expression, hearing the excitement in her voice.
Then there was the family who’d lost their house in a fire. Granny had given them Cottage One for six months. Free.
The young woman on the run from an abuser.
Aunt Myrtle May when she found herself a widow at fifty-five with no place to go.
During high school, the inn had burst at the seams during the spring and summer, especially the Fourth of July weekend, and again for Christmas holidays.
He’d worked twelve-hour days all summer, but he’d loved it. Granddaddy had taken every opportunity to teach him about the inn and the business.
The inn wasn’t just a place to lay one’s head; it was a shelter, a respite, a home away from home. His grandparents had made sure people were comfortable and safe. They’d made sure Ben was comfortable and safe.
The interaction with the Walkers reminded him of why he’d started in the hotel business—the gratification of helping people. Of being the port in a storm.
When he’d interviewed with Viridian, they’d offered him excitement and travel. So far, they’d delivered in spades. But he hadn’t realized how much he missed the sweet interactions with guests.
“Ben?” Mr. Walker walked toward him holding an antique doorknob. “This came off the bathroom door.”
“I am so sorry.” He’d have to check all the doorknobs. Myrtle May said Ray had a lifetime of supplies out in the barn. “Do you want to change rooms?”
“No.” Mr. Walker winked. “After all, we are on our forty-eighth honeymoon.”
Ben tried not to laugh. “Yes, sir.” What else could he say? Enjoy? Have a nice night? Go get ’em, tiger? But in a small way, he envied the man. He had true love. Ben couldn’t remember the last time he’d been on a date.
The inn, unlike the Emerald, or any of the hotels he’d opened, had a history. The inn was his history. No one would remember who opened the Emerald or any of the properties in London or Budapest.
But the Walkers remembered his grandparents almost fifty years later. Granddaddy used to say, You can’t take it with you, but you can leave it behind.
What was Ben leaving behind? What did he want his legacy to be? What was his calling? Helping the rich and famous book a spa or limo? Climbing the corporate ladder? Nothing wrong with any of it if it was his calling.
The UT fight song sounded from the office where he’d left his phone. Ben hurried to answer. Jordan. On FaceTime. This could only mean trouble.
“You know you owe me.” Cami tapped the brakes.
Nashville’s crazy I-65 rush-hour traffic slowed to a crawl again as she and Annalise made their way toward Cumberland Oasis, Nashville’s poshest country club on the river.
It had been five days since Cami had heard from Ben.
He had completely ignored her offer. She squeezed the steering wheel and tapped at her brakes again.
Ugh, traffic. Thankfully, the exit was coming up in a few miles.
“I know, and I’m grateful.” Annalise brushed on mascara in the light of the visor mirror, then stuffed the tube in her small makeup tote. “I just need a second set of eyes and ears on this one.”
“Is she a bridezilla?”
“Not really, but she has a lot of ideas.” Annalise sat back with a sigh. “She texts me every day with something new and different. She’s very invested.”
Was it Cami’s imagination or did Annalise have bags under her eyes? Her sister’s normally pristine hair was pulled back with barrettes, and since when did she put makeup on in the car? It wasn’t like she hadn’t had time to get ready at home.
“What’s going on with you? I haven’t talked to you since you closed the Emerson deal.” Annalise pulled out some lipstick and gazed into the mirror again.
“Busy, figuring out the move to Indy, interviewing people, talking to Realtors, the contractor. And why are you putting on makeup in my car?”
“The day got away from me.” Annalise snapped the lipstick back in the tube. “I still can’t wrap my head around the idea of you moving. Dad never said a word to me.”
“Nor me before I was in his office.”
“What am I going to do without you?” Annalise said. “I asked Steve if we could move to Indy. He’s working from home most of the time, so why not? But my career is most definitely here. I don’t want to start a wedding planning business in a new city.”
Annalise was well on her way to becoming one of Nashville’s top wedding planners. She’d worked hard to build her reputation. Thus, the appointment with Vicki Carmichael, an up-and-coming country music star. Inside Nashvegas called her the next Carrie Underwood.
“I’ll only be gone a couple of years. The absence will make our hearts grow fonder.” Cami gave her sister a teasing smile.
“Promise me you’ll get a social life in Indianapolis.”
“If social life means work, work, work, then yes, I promise.”
“I’m never going to be a matron of honor at your wedding, am I?”
Cami laughed. “I don’t know, how matronly do you want to be?”
“Less than a hundred, if you don’t mind.”
“Then ninety-nine it is.”
Cami didn’t want to confess that one hunky man had been on her mind all week.
Ben Carter. From how he looked without his shirt—downright drool-worthy—to how real and down-to-earth he’d been.
How he seemed to really care about the inn even though he had an incredible job waiting for him in Sydney.
Viridian resorts were extraordinary. Staying at one was on her bucket list.
Meanwhile, this Wednesday marked a week since she’d given Ben the forty-eight-hour deadline.
You have forty-eight hours.
She cringed at the memory. Please. The deadline had made her sound like a henchman in The Godfather. Made her sound like a bully. She never gave potential sellers that kind of rush. But she’d been emotional and mixed-up after seeing Mama’s painting, after all the memories.
Ben’s delayed response had given her time to think and plan.
She had to go back to Hearts Bend and win him over.
Then she’d remembered the flyer about a barn dance on the bulletin board outside the inn’s kitchen.
After a quick shopping trip last night, she was ready to do-si-do in a lace dress and pair of leather cowboy boots.
She’d wanted to use this drive to the wedding venue to tell Annalise about the inn, but it suddenly felt personal. Talking about business was easy. But talking about the pieces of her heart that touched on her memories of Mama often seemed impossible.
“What about you, Lise? You feeling okay? You look puny.”
“I’m fine. We ate sushi last night, and it didn’t sit well with me.”
“You hate sushi.”
“Exactly.”
Cami squeezed her sister’s hand. “All right, tell me more about Vicki’s wedding so far, without all the ideas and changes. What’s her theme?”
“She loves color. Wants lots of flowers and eclectic table settings. She loves antiques, yet she sends me pictures of modern weddings with gold-and-white themes. I can’t talk to anyone about anything without making them sign a non-disclosure.
One will be included in all the wedding invitations.
It must be signed when they return their RSVP. ”
“Remind me to never envy the rich and famous.”
“Which reminds me, you’ll have to sign this”—Annalise reached into her bag and pulled out a folded legal document—“before we go in.”
“You mean I can’t take a bunch of pictures and post on social media?”
Annalise laughed. “No.”
In Cami’s eyes, her sister still looked tired and a bit green. The BMW’s GPS told Cami to take the exit on the right. Well, if she was going to tell her sister about the inn and Ben, now was the time. They’d arrive at the venue about the time Annalise dug in for the deep, personal questions.
“I put an offer on the Hearts Bend Inn.” Cami gripped the wheel, waiting for her sister’s response.
“You what?” Annalise pressed her hand on Cami’s arm. “Does Dad know?”
“He will. It’s in the system, but I’ve not closed yet.”
“You really want to go back there, Cami? Why?” Annalise’s questions mirrored Cami’s. Especially why.
After her big show-off last week, the why question had begun to surface. Why would she want to own the place where her mother died? The place her father hated. The place where words had been exchanged.
“Jean Carter died, and her grandson, Ben, inherited it. Keith Niven emailed and said Ben might be willing to sell. Ben works for Viridian Jewel Resorts and—”
“Ben? Your first-kiss Ben?” Now Annalise teased her. “Is he still cute?”
“No, he’s a downright hunk. Really handsome. He’s opening a marquee hotel in Sydney, and he has to be there the same time I have to be in Indy.”
“Do you think he’ll sell? I mean, the Carters owned that place since the late ’50s. And I think they inherited from someone in the family. It’s a legacy.”
“He’s not sure. He’s considering my offer. The place needs a lot of work. A local businessman, Frank Hardy, offered to buy it for the amount of the bank loan, but that was an insulting offer. You know him. He’s Sam Hardy’s dad.”
“Oh, I know Sam Hardy. Steve yells at him every Sunday afternoon in the fall.” Annalise lowered her voice.
“‘Good grief, Hardy, I can pass better than that.’” Steve was a huge Tennessee Titans fan.
“So, if Ben says yes, what will Akron do with a small-town inn? Doesn’t seem like one of your usual properties.
” Annalise shifted in the passenger seat.
“Frankly, I’m surprised you’re even considering this.
I thought you’d never go there again. I know Dad won’t. ”
Which was probably a good thing. Cami could oversee everything about the property.
For now, she took the exit and merged onto 41A, still heading north. Traffic was lighter and she sailed through a few green lights.
“Cami, are you going to answer my question? Why do you want to own the Hearts Bend Inn?”
“Well, I wasn’t really sure until now, but something hit me when I read Keith’s email. Maybe I should go back, touch base with the last place I saw Mama. It’s been fifteen years. I’ve healed. Some. It felt good to walk the grounds with Ben. See the places I used to paint with Mama.”
“Did you go to Cottage Three?”
“No, but I don’t have to deal with Cottage Three if I—if Akron owns the inn. Did you know she left a painting in the lobby? It was a gift for Dad, but she died before she could give it to him, so he left it there.”
“Gosh, no. But I’m not surprised. Dad…he’s never really dealt with the grief. He covers up all his pain with bitterness.”
“I want the inn to be my own project. Akron has to change with the times, and since I’ll be in charge someday, I’ll try a few things now. The inn is chump change compared to what we normally do. I made an offer, and to be honest, I think Ben’s going to take it.”
“Don’t be surprised at Dad’s reaction, Cami. He hates that place more than you.”
“I don’t hate that place. Not anymore.” Tears threatened at the thought of what had become of her relationship with Dad. “Maybe I’m being a Pollyanna, but I hope one day the inn will remind him of who he used to be.”
“He doesn’t want to be reminded, Cami.” Annalise had never had the tension with Dad Cami had had after Mama died. But then again, she hadn’t been there when it all went down.
The Cumberland Oasis came into view, and Cami slowed to turn in. “When I showed up, Ben asked me if I’d come for the painting. I didn’t even know what he was talking about.”
“You don’t have to buy the whole inn to get the painting, Cami.”
“That’s just it, Annalise. I think I do.”
“So you think Ben’s going to sell? If I know you, you have a plan to win him over.”
“Saturday night I’m going to the Hearts Bend square dance.”
“How do you know he’s going to be there?”
“If he’s not, I’ll go to the inn. Show I’m not in it just for the property but that I care about the town as well as the inn.”
“Do you?” Annalise sounded dubious.
“Yes, I think I do.”
“All right, then I want pictures. You at a square dance? Can’t see it.” Annalise’s laugh floated through the car. “Time-stamped photos to prove you’re there all night. And several with Ben. I’m curious what he looks like now.”
“You’re on. And by the end of the night, Ben Carter will agree to sell me Hearts Bend Inn.”