Chapter 8
She’d overslept, forgetting to set her alarm the night before. Her room was filled with the thin light of morning and the fragrant smell of eggs, bacon, and coffee from the kitchen. Yet she wasn’t hungry.
After crying in Granny’s arms, never confessing what bothered her, then washing down chocolate cake with a glass of milk, she hauled herself upstairs for a warm shower and a dab of antiseptic on her leg.
Why, oh why, did his “not kiss” upset her?
She was glad he didn’t. Honest. The last thing she needed in Hearts Bend, Tennessee, was for her heart to be bent.
She always knew the name of this town meant more than the place where the road curved around the Cumberland River in a heart shape.
When she came down dressed for work, Pops and Granny sat at the kitchen table with oversized smiles. Sure enough, Granny had told Pops about the tears.
“Sleep well?” Granny said.
“You don’t have to pretend I wasn’t a mess last night.” She took a glass from the cupboard. “I was just overtired.”
“Sure,” Pops said with a nod. “I’ve seen your granny that overtired many a night.” He winked at her. So, they were having some fun at her expense. It came with Dorsey territory.
Pouring a glass of milk, Elizabeth reached for a couple of slices of bacon, then started packing her lunch. “Any leftover salad, Granny?”
She’d been eating far too much, and she didn’t have the money to buy a whole new wardrobe for school. Her slacks, skirts, and suits were expensive.
“Hey, Pops,” she said, retrieving Sunday’s leftover salad and roasted chicken from the fridge. “I found your and Granny’s initials at the old fire tower.”
“You went to the tower with Ryder?” He cocked one eyebrow. A Dorsey special talent.
“He’s fixing it up.” She pointed to her leg. “I fell through one of the boards.”
“Couples have been carving their initials in those old boards when they got engaged for decades. Before Cheatham WMA was even established.”
“Did he propose?” Granny got up to refill their coffee cups. “Matt, there’s more bacon.” She set a couple of slices on his plate. Pops never refused bacon.
“Propose? Who?” Elizabeth whipped around. “Ryder? No. He was just showing me the tower. He’s going to save the boards for posterity.”
“So all those tears last night were about posterity?” Pops this time. Gee whiz, folks in her family were way too intuitive.
“I’m going to work.” She collected her lunch and handbag and headed for the door. “I’m working at Ella’s tonight.”
“Beth?” Pops called after her. “You know we’re proud of you.
Graduating from MIT with honors was no small feat.
We’re proud you got into Wharton.” Those words stung a bit, but she didn’t correct him.
She was going to get into Wharton. “We just want you to consider the good opportunities in Hearts Bend. There’s no place like HB, Beth.
This town is special. Same with Ryder. Don’t say no to a good man like him out of hand. ”
“Will told you about the CFO offer?” she said.
“He ran it by me. I’m still chairman of the board.”
“Pops, I’m grateful. I agree, this town is special.
It boasts a major clothing line—O’Shay’s Shirts—a country music star, a pro football player, and good grief, a part-time prince and princess, but that doesn’t mean this town is for me.
Not now, anyway. There’s a whole world out there to explore.
When I was sick—” Her illness was starting to sound more like an excuse than a reason.
“Never mind.” With watery eyes, she peeked at Pops.
“I want to make my own way in the world. Just like our ancestors who landed on this plot of land a hundred and sixty years ago.”
“Well, there you go. Matt, we said we’re proud, so now let’s believe in her.” Granny patted Elizabeth on the shoulder. “Maybe Pops and I will head to the diner for supper tonight.”
“That sounds lovely.” Elizabeth headed out, feeling more emotional than the conversation warranted. Maybe she should heed Granny’s warnings and rest a bit more.
As her little Bug hummed toward Dorsey Furniture, Elizabeth’s thoughts returned to last night, the fire tower, and the heat on her skin when Ryder touched her.
Why didn’t he kiss her? Was she not kissable? He said she was beautiful, but that didn’t mean he wanted to kiss her, right? He was just being nice?
Stop! What did it matter? She could not allow any man to kiss her. She was infectious. Or potentially infectious. Full steam ahead on education and career, where she’d commanded her own destiny, devoid of the whims of any human heart. Or the temptation to taste Ryder’s beautiful, full lips.
He finished his coffee on the back porch with Fred and Ginger at his feet, watching the morning light dissipate among the trees and thinking of Elizabeth.
He’d been confident of his decision not to kiss her, until it’d hit him: Maybe she thought he didn’t want to kiss her. So did he mosey over to the diner later and confess? Or just leave it?
Besides Elizabeth, his knee bothered him. Climbing the tower irritated it. He also rumbled in his gut over Travis. Call it experience. Call it a God whisper, but when he collected his keys and headed to his truck, he sensed this wasn’t going to be a banner day.
“Good morning, Ryder,” Cheryl said, her eyes almost naked without her heavy lashes. She smiled in a way that made him uncomfortable. “Travis wants to see you.”
Of course he did. It was becoming their routine. Ryder dropped his canvas bag onto his desk. Taking a deep breath, he limped into the boss’s office.
“You wanted to see me?”
The large man stood. “We have to figure out how to solve this problem.”
“Agreed.” With a sigh, Ryder dropped into the nearest chair.
“Since our last discussion, you bought more lumber from Dorsey? Teak this time?” He tossed an invoice in front of him.
“Come on, Travis, you know I would not buy teak. For what?” Ryder reached for the printed paper. Sure enough, his name and electronic signature were on the bottom line. “Come to my house. Inspect it. You’ll find no teak.”
“Are you selling it?”
Just resign right now. Call Enzo and take the job. “How long have you known me?”
Travis shrugged. “Since you were a teen.”
“Do you really think I would steal from the TWRA? From Cheatham? Did you hire me to blame this mess on me?”
“Beg pardon?” Travis bowed up, chest out, chin raised. “Are you accusing me? I hired you because I thought you were a stand-up man, but I don’t know. People change.”
“Not that much. Not me. I’m not ordering this stuff. I don’t know anything about illegal loggers. Where’s the order for pine? That’s all I’ve purchased.”
“Accounting believes you’ve fudged your records,” Travis said.
“I have the receipts.”
“Whatever it is you’re doing, end it now, Donovan. I don’t want to see you in trouble.”
“Whatever I’m doing—” Ryder stood. “Too late. Seems I’m already in trouble.” At the door, he said, “I’m going to the dam today to check on the fishing and boating. Also, when I was at the tower, I noticed we needed to clear dead branches and dried brush. One stray spark and we’re on fire.”
Travis grumbled about a fire ban, then mumbled, “Dismissed, Donovan.”
At his desk, Ryder opened the accounting app just to see what was logged against his account. But it came up with an error. He closed it and launched it again. It crashed.
“Cheryl, can you access the accounting app?”
She popped her gum, double-clicked, and nodded. “Sure can.”
Ryder tried again and was able to log in. He copied his records onto a thumb drive and tucked it into his backpack. He’d review his records at home. In the meantime, he had work to do.
By the end of the day, he’d checked the docks and run off a dozen fishermen for not having a license. He hated doing that, but if he bent the law for one, he’d have to bend it for all. And he liked following the law. It helped him make sense of the world.
At home, Fred and Ginger greeted him like he was better than a steak bone.
He let them out to run, then filled their food bowls.
He fixed himself a sandwich, turned on a bit of jazz, then plugged the thumb drive into his laptop to check his purchase records.
They were several months behind but showed he’d only ordered pine for the fire tower.
Nothing at all about money to or from loggers. Or cherrywood. Or teak.
He expected a sense of relief, but it never came. Because the higher-ups were looking at something very different.
In the fading summer light, he worked off some tension by trimming the hedges around the back of the house and nailing down a few loose boards of his shed. He tossed the ball for the dogs before heading inside for a long, hot shower.
How was he going to figure this out? Travis seemed content to accuse him. Last night with Elizabeth and all the warm, comforting yearnings seemed an eternity ago.
“You’re crazy not to fall for him,” Tina said, setting up a couple of large garden salads in the service window.
“Why do I have to fall for him? For anyone?” Elizabeth clicked through the order screen, then retrieved a couple of frosted glasses for milkshakes. It’d been a busy day at Dorsey, and she’d hoped for a slow night at the diner. But they were slammed.
But the cherry on top of her day was Tina garnishing her evening with advice about love.
“Because at the end of the day, no one ever said, ‘I wish I’d spent more time at my desk.’”
Elizabeth dropped scoops of vanilla into the glasses from the carton in the lowboy. “You can do better than a cliché, Tina.”
“Not when the cliché is true.”
Okay, maybe no one said “I wish I’d spent more time at my desk” on their deathbed. But they probably did right out of college or grad school. Why was everyone so down on her chasing her dreams?
Still, the residue of last night—the pizza, the dance, the music, the sunset, the fire tower, falling through, and crying on Granny’s shoulder—left her distracted.
At Dorsey, she messed up her accounting. Printed the wrong reports. Emailed the wrong people. She ate her lunch at her desk, admonishing herself to “Focus.”
Which worked. She’d just about cleared the day’s tasks when she came across another expensive purchase from the Tennessee Wildlife Resources Agency for one hundred board feet of teak.
Ryder’s name was sprawled boldly on the bottom of the purchase order. She recognized his signature, made with a large R, from when he paid for the pizza.
She reached for the phone and called Grant Hansen again. “Would the WMA order teak?”
“Teak? No. Never.”
Elizabeth filled the chilled glasses with chocolate syrup, then slipped the first one under the milkshake spindle.
Should she talk to Tina about this? She didn’t want to sully Ryder’s name without evidence. If he hadn’t ordered the teak, why did the purchase order note it was for the fire tower refurbishment?
Grant assured her teak was good against weather and water for a boat, not a fire tower, then admitted he’d forgotten to check into the cherry purchase.
“It fell off my to-do list. I’ll check into these orders. See who fulfilled them.”
What was going on? Ryder was fixing up his house on the hill. But he didn’t seem like the cheating kind. And didn’t his parents have money? Could someone from Dorsey Furniture be involved?
Elizabeth finished the milkshakes and delivered them to the customers at the counter. “Enjoy.”
Heading back to the kitchen, she felt confident of one thing. There was no way the man who looked in her eyes last night was a fraud.