Chapter 12 #3
“Well, not much, really. Just left a note that he had to go home. I tried calling him for weeks, but he never responded. I took that as an answer.” Isabella found the words still had a little bit of their original sting, even though decades had passed.
“It came out of nowhere, you know, just as I was returning from my summer internship. We had plans, like a future we had mapped out together, and suddenly it was over.”
Luella was quiet for a long moment, watching the deer with seemingly absorbed interest. When she finally spoke, her voice carried the wisdom of someone who chose her words deliberately.
“Honey, some stories aren’t mine to tell,” she said.
“But I will say this. Thomas Langley is a man who’s always done what he thought was right, even when it cost him everything.
Sometimes what seems like abandonment from one perspective is actually a sacrifice from another.
There are people on this island who know pieces of what happened back then.
Not the whole story. Thomas kept that close, but people know enough to have opinions.
You start askin' around, you might hear things that'll confuse you more than clarify.
Better to get it straight from the source. "
She considered the response, sensing there was more meaning beyond the surface than Luella was willing to explicitly state.
“That doesn’t really answer my question.”
“No,” Luella said. “It doesn’t. But some answers you need to get from the source when the time is right.
” She turned her penetrating gaze directly to Isabella.
“The question is, are you asking because you need to know for your own peace of mind, or because it matters for what might be developing between the two of you now?”
The directness of the question caught Isabella off guard. She’d been so careful to maintain professional boundaries with Thomas, yet Luella had seen right through it.
“I’m not sure,” Isabella admitted finally. “Maybe both.”
Luella nodded, seemingly pleased with the honest uncertainty.
“Then maybe it’s time to have that talk with Thomas.
Ask him straight out why he left. Because whatever's growin' between you two now, it's growin' on shaky ground if you don't know the truth.
And honey, secrets have a way of comin' out at the worst possible time, usually when they can do the most damage. "
Before Isabella could respond, the sound of a truck approaching drew their attention. Thomas pulled into the driveway with his vehicle loaded with reclaimed flooring.
“Speak of the devil,” Luella murmured, a hint of amusement. “Timing was always that man’s specialty, sometimes good, sometimes not so good.”
Thomas parked near the side entrance and approached the porch, his expression brightening when he saw them. Despite the long drive to and from Savannah, he looked energized rather than tired.
“Ladies,” he greeted them with a warm smile. “Enjoying the evening?”
“Oh, just watching deer and solving the world’s problems,” Luella said dryly. “Found your flooring, I see.”
“Better than I hoped,” Thomas confirmed. “Heart pine from an 1860s warehouse in Savannah, same vintage as the inn’s original floors, and the patina is perfect. We won’t even need to artificially age it to match the existing sections.”
His genuine excitement over the discovery was charming.
Isabella found herself watching how his face changed when he talked about materials and craftsmanship, the boyish enthusiasm that made him seem younger, the passion that initially drew her to him decades ago.
It was risky how easily he could still make her forget why she had built those walls around her heart.
“That’s wonderful news,” Isabella said. “You want to show me?”
“Absolutely,” Thomas nodded.
As they walked toward his truck, Luella called after them. “Don’t forget what I said, Isabella. Some conversations need to happen face-to-face and not through the island grapevine.”
Thomas glanced back with a questioning expression, but Isabella merely shook her head, indicating they would talk about it later.
At his truck, he lowered the tailgate and showed the flooring planks, their rich amber color glowing.
“It’s beautiful,” Isabella said, running her hand along one of the exposed edges. “This color variation is extraordinary.”
“That’s what makes reclaimed heart pine so special,” he said. “Every board has its own story to tell through its unique grain pattern and color variations. This wood right here has witnessed over 150 years of history.”
As he continued explaining the technical aspects of installing and finishing the flooring, Isabella watched his face. His genuine reverence for craftsmanship was compelling.
They were interrupted by the arrival of another vehicle, a sleek silver Mercedes that Isabella recognized immediately as belonging to Grayson Williams.
Thomas’s expression shifted. “Unexpected visitor,” he said, as Grayson emerged from his car impeccably dressed. “Want me to stay?”
“Please,” Isabella nodded, grateful that he was there to support her.
Grayson approached with his practiced smile. “Isabella, Thomas, working late, I see.”
“Just reviewing some materials for the dining room,” Isabella said. “What brings you by, Grayson? I don’t believe we had a meeting scheduled.”
“No appointment necessary among friends, surely,” he replied. “I was just driving past and saw your car. Thought I’d stop to discuss the paint analysis requirement. I understand Dr. Simmons has begun her work.”
“She has,” Isabella said, “and as I mentioned to Vivian at lunch today, we should have the preliminary results next week.”
“Excellent,” Grayson said. “I hope Dr. Simmons understands the importance of historical accuracy to our community. Some experts from Charleston tend to apply, let’s say, flexible standards that might not meet Wexley’s expectations.”
“Well, Dr. Simmons has an impeccable reputation,” Thomas interjected. “Her analysis methods are considered the gold standard in historical preservation circles across the Southeast, so we’re confident her findings will satisfy even the most stringent interpretation of the requirements.”
The subtle emphasis on most stringent made it clear Thomas recognized Grayson’s attempt to create additional obstacles.
Grayson’s smile tightened. “Well, we all want what’s best for the inn, don’t we?
” he said, his tone sharp. “It’s such an important part of our island’s heritage.
Speaking of which, Isabella, have you given any more thought to my offer?
The market for luxury properties continues to strengthen, and my investment group has recently increased our acquisition budget. ”
“My position hasn’t changed, Grayson,” Isabella said firmly. “The inn isn’t for sale. I told you I came to Wexley to restore it as a hospitality business, not to flip it for development.”
Grayson’s expression hardened briefly before he regained his smooth facade.
“Admirable commitment. Though I do hope you’ve considered all the ongoing challenges of managing a historic property - renovation delays, cost overruns, staffing issues in a seasonal economy.
” He paused thoughtfully. “And of course, financing can become… complicated if lenders start questioning a project’s viability based on community feedback.
Banks do tend to listen when influential board members voice concerns. "
“Yes, I’m well aware of business realities,” Isabella said, painting on a fake smile. “My financial projections account for these factors, and I’m very confident in the viability of the inn as an ongoing operation.”
“Well, of course.” Grayson nodded. "Should circumstances change - and they often do with projects of this scope - my offer remains open. For now." The slight emphasis on the final words carried an unmistakable edge. “In the meantime, I do look forward to reviewing Dr. Simmons’ analysis with the board. Historical accuracy is so important, wouldn’t you agree, Thomas?”
“Absolutely,” Thomas said evenly. “Which is why we’ve engaged the most qualified expert available.”
Grayson departed quickly after that, and Thomas and Isabella stood in silence for a moment, watching his Mercedes disappear down the driveway.
“Boy, he’s not giving up, is he?” Isabella said.
“Not likely,” Thomas confirmed. “This inn property represents the last big parcel of the historic district that hasn’t been developed or permanently preserved.
And Grayson's not the type to just sit back and wait for you to succeed.
If he can't buy you out, he'll find other ways to apply pressure.
I've seen him do it before - financial pressure, regulatory complications, social isolation. He's patient and he's ruthless. For someone with Grayson’s ambitions, it’s the ultimate prize.”
“Well, he won’t be getting it,” Isabella said firmly. “This inn is going to be restored, reopened, and operated exactly as I’ve planned.”
Thomas smiled. “I don’t doubt that for a moment. You’re at least as stubborn as Grayson, with the advantage of actually owning the property.”
“What was Luella talking about earlier?” he suddenly said. “Something about having a conversation face-to-face?”
Isabella hesitated, Luella’s advice echoing in her mind. Was now the right time to ask Thomas directly about their past, while they stood in the inn’s driveway with the workday ending and other pressing matters on their minds?
“Just Luella being Luella,” she said, laughing, “dispensing wisdom whether requested or not.”
Thomas chuckled. “Well, she’s been doing that for as long as I’ve known her. The remarkable thing is how often her unsolicited advice turns out to be exactly what you needed to hear.”
“Yeah, beginning to notice that pattern,” Isabella agreed.
As Thomas got ready to leave, he paused for a moment. “I meant what I said at dinner last night, about doing it again sometime. Maybe with Emma’s not-so-subtle matchmaking efforts.”
The directness of his acknowledgment of both the dinner’s success and Emma’s transparent intentions surprised Isabella.
“I would like that,” she said honestly.
A pleased smile crossed his face, warming his blue eyes in the fading light. “Good. I’ll call you.”
Isabella watched him drive away and found herself reflecting on the day’s events - Vivian’s pointed comments, Luella’s cryptic advice, and now Thomas’s unexpected invitation. The careful boundaries she had tried to establish when she found him on the island were becoming more permeable.
She wasn't sure if reopening her heart to Thomas Langley was wise.
The man had shattered her once without explanation, and now here she stood, contemplating dinner alone with him, feeling the same dangerous pull she'd felt at twenty-two.
But watching the deer graze in the golden light, standing in front of the inn she was bringing back to life, Isabella recognized that some risks might be worth taking, even if they terrified her.
The inn itself seemed to stand witness to the possibility. Perhaps their relationship could undergo a similar restoration.
With this thought, she turned back toward the inn, ready to finish the day’s work before going home.
Whatever conversations needed to happen would have to wait for the right moment.
But as she returned to the inn, Isabella couldn’t shake Luella’s warning about secrets coming out at the worst possible time.
She'd built her entire project on this island, poured her life savings and dreams into this restoration.
If there were truths about Thomas's past she didn't know - truths that might complicate everything - she needed to hear them before her feelings made her too vulnerable to devastation.
The question was whether she had the courage to ask.