Dandelion Sighs (Return to Coal Haven #5)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Sheridan

Sheridan: I’m having one last coffee with Mom.

Everly: …

Everly: …

Everly: Okay. So. What does that mean?

Everyone else in the small, downtown coffee shop in Coal Haven, North Dakota, was minding their own business. They’d be mortified if they knew what I was texting my best friend about.

I smirked at the small yogurt container in front of me. The cringe wasn’t far behind. My only consolation was that Mom would’ve loved this last coffee as much as she loved the yogurt. I took a picture and sent it to my best friend.

Everly: You’re having yogurt with your coffee?

I didn’t tell anyone about my plans today. They were too personal, and they were also…odd. Ripe for judgment, and that was something I’d had enough of from my family.

Sheridan: I asked to have a part of her ashes set aside for me to release later.

Everly: Oh

Oh? My skin crawled as the silence stretched on. Was that all she had to say?

Tears seared the backs of my eyes. I knew I shouldn’t have done this. I knew I shouldn’t have told anyone. Everly would say she understood, but she’d be concerned. She might’ve even told my two brothers, and I couldn’t have that.

My phone rang.

“Hi, Everly,” I said like I was caught doing something a little naughty.

“Are you doing okay?” Her worried tone was like an exfoliation before a massage. Irritating.

“I’m fine. I swear. Just taking the morning with her before I go to the resort.” I curled my fingers around the cool container. My mom’s end was my new beginning.

“By taking her remains in a yogurt container to join you for coffee?”

And there was the judgment. Fair, but of all people, why couldn’t she be the one to understand? We just weren’t close anymore. Not since college. When I dropped out. “Her favorite yogurt.”

“And because no one will know.”

“That helps.”

She sighed. “Sheridan, I’m worried about you.”

“I’m not.” I was worried about me too. But not for my sanity, and not because of the decision I made. Carrying out my choices and starting over again, sort of, had me a little concerned. Hence, coffee with Mom.

“You sure you’re doing okay?”

I could brush her off, tell her I was fine again, but I had to vent some of the stress—to someone who wasn’t in a container. “I’ve been at the resort all week.”

“Uh-oh. That bad?”

My tone made it sound that way, but I couldn’t decide. “It needs work.” A lot. “But there’s so much room to expand. If only we could access the boat docks, but a small lake cabin and a narrow strip of land are blocking us.”

There was so much potential in that little piece of land. I would use the beach access, but also clean it all up and renovate the cabin. Renters would flock to a place like that. It was a shame it sat empty.

“Surely you can work with the current owners,” she said.

“I’ve talked to her to get information.” It’d been a long shot with my finances. “She said her hands were tied. She can’t sell or rent the property for another few months. I guess it’s locked up in some trust, and she’s only the executor.”

When it went up for sale, I wouldn’t be able to afford it, but I wanted to know what the outlook was.

If she rented, I could ask about just the portion between the resort and the lake.

I might’ve been able to afford to lease the whole place.

If she had no plans to sell initially, I could plan and save for when it did go on the market.

Without the extra lake traffic we’d get from direct dock access, I wouldn’t have the revenue.

I could make more from increased dock access, but I’d have to figure out what I could do to improve the bottom line without the sale.

“The rest, though?” Everly asked. “It’s good? The staff is doing all right? It’s gotta be a big transition for them.”

It would be, but it might be harder for me. One of my mom’s loyal employees made it known immediately that I wasn’t my mother. “Constance, the head housekeeper, is going to be an issue.”

“Fire her.”

“I can’t fire her right after the only boss she’s ever known passed away.

” I’d give her the benefit of the doubt first. Then…

I’d worry about how letting her go would affect the rest of the staff.

I only needed to prove that I could successfully run the place, and firing the woman with the longest employment there wasn’t a good start.

She tsked. “True.”

“And she’s the only housekeeper.” Also a big con in the whole firing chart.

Everly laughed. “Fair. Still sucks.”

I nodded even though she couldn’t see. “She’s old enough to be my mother, and she acts like it. I never liked her, and she seemed more disappointed in me than my brothers are.”

“You’re the boss now. Don’t let her forget it.”

If I reminded Constance of that, then she might leave, and the other staff would follow. My brothers would be right—I was a failure without my parents’ help.

“I wouldn’t put it past her to quit and start her own resort and steal all the workers.” They all looked up to her. It’d taken days before the restaurant manager had actually come to me with a question, but that might’ve been because I’d been in the office and she expected Constance.

“You’ll have to give them a reason to stay.”

My mom was the reason they continued working. She was a delight as a manager and owner. Now I was the manager and owner of Bishop’s Landing. My brothers got the money and I got the small hotel with an attached bar and grill located in Bishop’s Bay outside of Coal Haven.

I inherited the summer fishing competitions and the winter ice fishing tournament.

I had to make sure our family name lived on with Bishop’s Landing, the business my parents started.

I didn’t make them proud when they were alive, but I’d make sure all their hard work didn’t fade away.

The home away from home that my dad died for, trying to rescue guests’ boats in a storm, would stand long after him.

The pressure behind my eyes grew stronger. If I kept talking, I wouldn’t be able to hold back the tears. “Hey, I’ve gotta go. I should get back to the office.”

“Call me if you need anything. Or if you need a place to crash.”

Thanks for the confidence.

I hung up and sadness overwhelmed me. The coffee shop held a few people.

Several in casual business wear stood in line, and a crowd around my parents’ ages was set up in a corner.

Too many to witness a breakdown. I rose and cradled the yogurt container in one arm.

A cry tore at my throat, and a choking sound escaped.

Shit. I had to get to the privacy of my car.

I might be able to throw on a pair of sunglasses before I ugly-cried for the next hour.

Picking up my ceramic coffee mug, I deposited it into the bin on top of the trash. Then I sprinted out the door and right into a hard wall of man. The container squeezed against my body and arm. A popping sound came from it just as the guy stepped back.

“Whoa,” he said in a pleasing deep voice. “Sorry about that—”

The container dropped to his cowboy boots. Ashes poofed everywhere, and a mushroom cloud of dust swirled around his jeans before blowing away.

A high-pitched sound left me. The need to sob vanished, but my stomach churned. I swallowed hard to keep from vomiting all over his boots.

Oh god.

“Shit, sorry about that too.” The man picked up one boot to inspect it before stooping down to grab the container starting to roll away in the breeze.

Oh god, oh god, oh god. Words gathered on my tongue and vanished just as fast. What a mess. How did I tell him? My stomach pitched and rolled.

He put the lid loosely on the top to hand to me.

I yanked my gaze off the mess, and my stomach settled just a little. The handsomeness of the easygoing man slapped the hysteria out of me. Dark stubble, a few shades browner than his eyes, covered his jaw. He had on a beige cowboy hat that shaded his eyes and decreased the intensity of his concern.

“Oh my god.” I finally said something out loud, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t the apology he deserved, or worse, the truth he should know.

I tried to speak. My throat worked, but no other noise came out. How did I fix this? It wasn’t something I could call my best friend about. How did I explain it? It felt like my biggest fuckup yet.

He glanced down at his dusty boots and jeans again. “No worries. It’s just a little dirt.” He peered closer at the debris. “A bunch of dust?”

My frantic attention lifted back to him and his easygoing face.

His gaze met mine, and his eyes went wide at whatever he saw in my expression. He blanched.

Finally, I let the words spill out. “It’s my mom.”

Jasper

I had someone’s ashes scattered on me.

The logical part of my brain refused to believe what the woman’s stunned gaze said loud and clear.

Her mom?

“Not all of her,” she rushed to tack on, and that wasn’t better. “She’s split between me and my brothers.”

I almost dropped the container I was holding. It wasn’t an urn. Yogurt?

“She wanted us to have a part of her wherever we were and not just in one place.” She waved her hands. Her bow lips were pinched, and the dark slashes of her brows had a divot in the middle. “A place of our choosing that we could visit. Or carry her around.”

Nothing made sense. Her words were jumbled, and they weren’t arranged in a coherent explanation. “Ma’am, can I have a second to process all this?”

“Yep. Of course.” She timidly took the plastic tub out of my hands.

Neither of us moved, and we just stared at my boots. They had been dirt-free but were now covered in an uneven scatter of ash. Dust to dust.

I almost laughed, but this woman’s mother was on my shoes. Did I move? Brush myself off? I didn’t want to disrespect the dead, but I couldn’t walk around with them on me either.

Not all of her ashes were on me. That actually made me feel better.

I was going to lift a boot, but the ashes were already dispersing. “Well, this isn’t the worst thing I’ve ever had on me.”

Her laugh was almost maniacal. “I’m so sorry. I was just running out and—” She hiccuped, and her gaze darted away.

I finally absorbed her appearance. She was a head shorter than me, but still average height for a woman. Her mahogany curls fluttered in the breeze, and her brown eyes shimmered with tears. One spilled over.

Aw hell. Her mom. If the loss wasn’t recent, the grief was still hitting her.

“What’s your name?” I asked softly, suddenly wanting to know more of her story. If I knew something, maybe I could make it better.

“Sheridan.” A big drop spilled down her cheek, and she hastily swiped it away. “Sheridan Bishop.”

A recent news clip rose up in my head. The owner of Bishop’s Landing passed away not long ago.

I had gone to school with some Bishops when I lived in Coal Haven.

Two brothers. We hadn’t been in the same circle, and I hadn’t wanted much to do with the know-it-all boys who’d done their own thing. “I’m Jasper Duke.”

She nodded, her throat working up and down. A slight tremor went through her body. She was working hard to hold it together. Did I continue to distract her? I was too afraid to move, and I needed her guidance on what to do next.

She sniffled. “I used to go to school with some Dukes.”

“What a coincidence. My family lived in Coal Haven until I was twelve.”

She let out the softest laugh, then her gaze fell to my feet. The tears swam and more tracked down her cheeks.

My heart grew heavy. Sheridan was going through a hard time, and I was a part of it, whether I planned it or not. “It’s gonna be okay. Maybe Mama wanted to tell you to slow down.”

She laughed and hiccuped again. “Yeah, maybe. I’m sorry.” She crouched, and my dick did not care how inappropriate the timing was. She was cute and also curvy in her linen shorts and loose top.

I yanked my gaze up when she wedged the container at the tip of my boot. That stomped my libido into the ground.

“I don’t know if I can rescue much.” She stopped and hung her head. A weary sigh left her. “Maybe it’s better like this. She was always on the go, and she loved this town so much.”

She put the lid back on the container, set it on the ground, and brushed off my jeans.

Shock propelled through me. It’d been too long since a woman touched me, and she didn’t realize what her innocent, perfunctory gesture was doing to me. “You don’t have to—”

“No, I do. You must be horrified.”

I was more upset at myself for not knowing what to do to help her, and here she was cleaning up the mess. “Not at all.”

She gazed up at me, disbelief in her eyes.

I shrugged. “Not gonna lie, there was a moment—but it’s passed.” Time to be practical. Helpful. It was what I did. “You said your mom was always on the go. Where would she like to be if she was here right now?”

Sheridan rose, brushing her hands off before wincing and staring at them for two seconds and then giving herself a shake. “Um, she loved getting a coffee and then going to the park. That’s why I was here.”

“Then let’s go to the park.” I took the yogurt container from her. Her pretty lips curved into a frown before releasing it. Appreciating her trust in a stranger, I squatted and sifted what I could into the small opening. “Can I ask why yogurt?”

“She ate it for breakfast every morning. And peach was her favorite flavor.”

I certainly wouldn’t think the same of yogurt again. Returning the ashes was nearly futile, but I did what I could and rose. “There isn’t much here.”

“My brothers have the rest, and Mom wasn’t a big person.” She dug around the leather purse hanging on her shoulder. “I have some wipes.”

“Appreciate it.” I wasn’t lying when I said I’d had worse on me. I’d been ranching for the last several years, but body fluid instances were normal in that profession. I traded her the ashes for the wipe. “Let’s go.”

Her eyes widened. “Go where?”

“To the park. It’s only a few blocks down. The farmers’ market should be done by now.” I had just come from there after checking in on my cousins and in-laws. They were all fine. I was the one who was jobless and aimless.

I was between jobs. There was a difference. Some days, it didn’t feel like it.

“You— We? Why?”

“I’m not one to dump a girl’s mom on the pavement and run.”

Her giggle bordered between unhinged and relieved. “Okay. If you insist on being a gentleman, I could use a little reprieve before I scatter the rest of her.”