Chapter 11
This was the day. The day everything would change.
Maybe. If Cami could really stand up to Dad, tell him that she was keeping this project.
Please.
For all her bravado, she couldn’t shake that one simple word. The whispered plea cut straight to Cami’s heart.
She wanted the inn. More than anything, but not at the expense of her dad.
Ben was a businessman. He would understand. Sometimes contracts fell through.
Cami attempted to remove the property from the system, but it was locked by the project manager, and he’d traveled to another site with Dad. Cami didn’t want to text him to give her access, because then he’d say something to Dad and…snowball upon snowball.
So she’d just wait until he got back. In the meantime, she had to get on with the business of telling Ben the deal was off.
On this gorgeous albeit hot July Saturday, she pulled up to the Hearts Bend Inn and parked under a shade tree. The morning breeze nipped at her as she stepped out and waved to Ben, who stood out front waiting for her.
Were her eyes deceiving her or did he look more handsome than when he left?
“G’day, mate.” He managed the Australian with a perfect accent.
“Howdy, stranger,” she said in her very best Southern.
His warm embrace was like coming home. The fresh scent of soap, the warm squeeze of his strong arms. She took a moment to draw from his strength.
“Ben, can we talk in your office?” Because today was a business meeting, and having a desk between them would remind her of her mission.
“Sure.” He peered at her with a quizzical expression. “What’s going on?”
Cami inhaled to fight a wave of emotion. She blamed the inn’s magical grounds and the memories of Mama.
“I’ll tell you in your office.”
Ben gripped her hand and led them into the cool inn. Soft music piped through a speaker by the desk. Myrtle May hummed along as she clicked something on the computer before she looked up, her faithful dog curled up in his bed behind her.
“Cami, darling, welcome back.” Myrtle May stepped from the desk to embrace her.
The tears built behind Cami’s eyes. “Or should I say welcome home, boss lady? I want you to know I offered a ten percent off for a three-night stay this month and we booked right up. Both cottages are rented, and we had a request for another. We need to get Cottage Three up and running, but I’ll let you two work that out. ”
They stepped into the office, and Ben shut the office door as Cami sat in the antique chair across from the desk. He relaxed in a large, very worn but comfy-looking chair.
“You look good.”
She smiled. She’d worn her yellow blouse and white pencil skirt, as if the colors would brighten the news she came bearing. “So do you.”
“Cami, what’s going on?” He scooted his chair around to sit next to her.
Cami gave him a side glance and tried to smile. Stop hemming and hawing, Jackson.
She put on her seven years of experience as a buyer like armor and did her job. “I can’t buy the inn.”
He raised an eyebrow, and his lips thinned. “Come again?”
“Since you signed the contract in good faith, Akron will pay the earnest fee. I’m terribly sorry.”
He sat back with an exhale, regarding her, reading her. His eyebrows drew together as he studied her. “Is this about your dad?”
“He asked me to let this go.”
Ben stood and paced around the desk, then back to his chair. “I should have known.” His shoulders drooped, and disappointment bled into his words. “You may have had good intentions, but your dad calls the shots. I assume I can put it on the market tomorrow.”
She made a face. “Not yet. The property got loaded into our system, and it’s been locked by the admin for processing. I promise as soon as he gets back in town Monday I’ll have it cleared. So if you could wait a few days… Maybe until late next week.”
“Cami, that eats into my time. How am I going to sell this place in less than a month?”
“I’m going to call in every favor I have to get you a good buyer, Ben. One who will love this place for the next generation.”
“But no one will love it like you. Or me.”
“Maybe not, but there are plenty of people who love towns and establishments like Hearts Bend and the inn. There’s a couple in Georgia who restore old buildings and open up shops or bed and breakfasts. They’d love the inn.”
“Thank you, but it’s not the same, is it?
When I come home, if I come home, strangers will be running the place.
At least with you, I felt like the inn was still in the family.
” He propped against the edge of the desk.
“It made me feel close to you. I feel like I keep losing the things I love, but yet, I was the one who hightailed it out of town and joined the VJR team.”
“Annalise helped me to see maybe Mama wanted me to return to my faith more than an old building. No offense.”
“None taken. My dad said something similar. Said I should seek God for my future.”
“Mama used to say God wasn’t a genie in a bottle, but we should still take everything to Him in prayer. But He didn’t seem to hear my prayers, so I stopped asking for things. I never got my wish.”
“Dad says faith is hoping in the unseen. Maybe we’re trying too hard to see everything when we should just trust.”
“Maybe.”
Maybe she needed to have faith in something, someone, bigger than herself. Like acknowledging she needed to trust God?
Cami slid her hand into his. “Then we’ll have faith. Faith that everything is going to work out. And I’m still here. I’m heading to Indy in a few weeks, but for now, I’m here.”
“Sure would be nice to jump into your mom’s painting about now.” Ben’s gaze captured hers. Searching. She hoped he could see all that she couldn’t say. How sorry she was for this.
“Sure would.”
“Are you hungry?” Ben squeezed her hand. “Angelo’s?”
Yes, a thousand times yes. But going to Angelo’s would only tug on her heart, and she needed to let him, let Ben and the inn, go.
“Actually, I need to get back. I’ll get to work on this. Let you know when you can list it as soon as I can.”
“I’ll walk you out.”
Their footsteps echoed in unison as they crossed the lobby. Cami slowed as they passed Mama’s painting.
“I suppose you’ll want to take that with you,” Ben said.
“I’ll come back for it.”
As she walked to the car, she tried to commit the moment to memory. The fresh scent of a Tennessee summer afternoon. The quiet coo of a dove. The strong hand wrapped around hers.
Ben opened her car door, and she turned to say she was sorry again, but the words stuck in her throat. This seemed very final. Cami looked up into Ben’s blue eyes and let her hand rest on his cheek. His close-trimmed beard was soft against her palm. She would miss him. She’d miss their connection.
He bent to her and pressed his lips to hers. A soft, gentle, goodbye kind of kiss.
Twenty-four hours had passed. Jack Bauer might be able to save the world in twenty-four hours, but Ben couldn’t seem to let go of the conversation with Cami.
When he’d pulled out the contract to give to her at Angelo’s, she’d seemed so surprised. He’d read that night all wrong. Rather than her excitement over the deal, had she been trying to figure out a way to tell him she no longer wanted the inn?
No longer wanted the inn.
Why hadn’t she told him if she’d known? He’d lost two precious weeks.
He could have had a new buyer by now. Cami had been in a tough spot.
Did it change how he felt about her? She’d been honest with him, and it wasn’t an easy conversation.
He respected that. But the kiss before she left had felt like goodbye, and it had hurt to watch her drive away.
Sunday afternoon she’d texted the name of the couple in Georgia.
They are interested. Will check out the inn.
But could he sign over the inn to just any ole body? This put a whole new light on things. As much as he wanted the promotion Jim dangled in front of him, he wanted this inn to be in good hands. And those hands were his or Cami’s.
Standing in the middle of the lobby, Ben inhaled the familiar and welcoming scent of Walt’s snickerdoodle cookies.
Soft piano music piped through the speakers.
Two couples sat around a table in the dining area, drinking Walt’s coffee and enjoying the cookies.
They’d checked in earlier, regaling him with stories of their past stays in the inn.
“Ben?” He turned to see Iris, the housekeeper. “The toilet in Room Eight won’t stop running. Can you please look at it? I’d call Ray but he’s off on Sundays. Also, the doorknob is loose, and the painting on the wall was down. It needs to be rehung.”
“Thanks, Iris. I’ll have to run to the barn to get some supplies. Can you sit at the desk until Myrtle May returns?”
The warm sun burned against his skin, the humidity thick, as he hurried to the barn.
If he was going to keep this place, he’d make sure there were some tools in the inn so he didn’t have to trek out to the barn every time something was needed.
He pulled at his collar as sweat dripped down his back. Especially in this heat.
Flowers swayed in the garden as the breeze whispered over the grounds. Overhead, thin wispy clouds drifted across the blue sky. Peaceful, tranquil, beautiful Hearts Bend, Tennessee, was vastly different than the hustle and bustle of Sydney.
Ben was almost to the barn when he heard a loud sneeze.
“Ray?” Ben followed another sneeze and found the gardener on his knees on a garden kneeling pad. His hands were covered in dirt with a trowel in hand, freshly planted lilies in a row in front of him.
“Iris said you were off today. What are you doing?”
“The preacher spoke on how the lilies neither toil nor spin but they are more regal than all of King Solomon’s garb. Made me think I needed to trust the Lord more with my life.”
“I’m right there with you, Ray.” Ben bent to examine the lilies. They were beautiful. And God took complete care of them with the sun, rain, and soil.
Wasn’t he at least as good as a lily?
“What brings you out to the barn today?”
“I needed a few things for Room Eight.”
“Ah, is the toilet acting up again? I think you’ll need to replace the flapper this time.
I picked up a few from the hardware store last time I was there.
” Ray clapped his hand on Ben’s shoulder.
Little specks of dirt flew off and landed on the front of Ben’s shirt.
He wiped it clean. “What’s on your mind? I can tell it’s more than toilets.”
“I was thinking of the lilies and how they don’t have to worry about anything.”
“Neither do you, Ben. Neither do you.”
“Easier said than done.”
“Want to tell ole Ray what’s going on?”
“Lots of things. Cami told me she isn’t buying the inn after all. So we’re back to ground zero. When I walked her out, we stopped in front of her mother’s painting. Ray, do you know what happened to the bench that used to be in the garden?”
“Can’t say offhand that I do. Why?”
“I was just thinking it’d be nice to give to Cami along with the painting. Whoever buys the inn won’t have any emotional attachment to it or the painting.”
But he still had an emotional attachment to the inn and Cami. Following his heart would cost him his career. His future.
“I’ll keep a lookout for it.” Ray walked with Ben to the barn. Inside, Ray made his way to the box fan in the corner and turned it on, the air flow a welcome relief.
“I take it you’re still heading to Sydney,” Ray said.
“Sooner rather than later.” Ben started walking between the shelves. “I’m getting a promotion out of this project if everything goes well.”
“And the inn?”
“Cami actually might have a buyer. Not anyone connected to the inn, which would’ve been nice, but they won’t knock it down.”
“That’s a heap of tomorrow’s worries, ain’t it? The fate of the inn, your job.”
“Life comes with worry, Ray. To get ahead, you have to work hard, do things you don’t often want to do, but in the end, your effort, your choice plays out.”
“Even so, you still got to trust the One who clothed the lilies.”
There it was. The Sunday school lesson. Talk to God. Trust God.
Ray wandered toward the wooden workbench and returned with a new flapper.
“Just like I knew we’d need this flapper, God knows your needs. He knows your tomorrows. Talk to Him, Ben. Let Him have your tomorrows.”
Sure, okay, but it was way easier said than done.