Chapter Fourteen
Beth went to Whitaker Mowers Sunday afternoon and cleaned out her office, quietly leaving a resignation letter on Darren’s desk. As she closed the door behind her for the last time, she was struck by an unexpected sense of freedom—not sadness—that she wouldn’t be back.
After her time in the chapel, she felt more willing to jump into this renovation project with both feet . . . even if it wasn’t the smart thing to do. Once she’d finished dinner that night, she and Molly retreated to Beth’s room and ran through the “what was next” of the whole project, clarifying their roles and talking through their plans.
“How involved are you wanting me to be here? Do you want me to be a silent partner and just give you money?” Beth asked, surprised to find herself hoping that wasn’t what her sister wanted.
“No way.” Molly propped herself up on her elbows. “I want you to manage the whole project. You’re the business mind. I’m just the looks.” She sprawled out and purposely gave herself a double chin. “Ain’t I purty?”
“You’re insane.” Beth threw a pair of socks at her sister and hit her in the face.
Molly tossed the socks back, and Beth sat down on the edge of the bed to put them on.
“I can tell you’re excited about this,” Molly said. “I think you’re just scared.”
Is it that obvious? “Scared of what?”
“Of me having a great idea.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Fine. I’m ridiculous.”
Beth sat for a few long seconds without saying anything. Molly was half-right—she was scared, but not of her sister being right about the farm. (That was more of a minor annoyance.) It was the fear of failing again that kept her up at night.
“So?”
Beth glanced at Molly, realizing her sister had just asked a question she hadn’t heard. “So, what?”
“Where are you today?”
“I’m fine—I was just thinking. What did you say?”
“I asked what’s next. Did you talk to Ben?”
“He said he’d only invest if we hired that guy from yesterday.”
“That guy?” Molly smirked. “Like you don’t know his name. “
Beth rolled her eyes and stood, ready to get outside for her nightly walk with her mom.
“I already asked him if he’d come work with us,” Molly said, pushing herself to the edge of the bed.
Beth turned. “Weren’t we going to consult with each other before making any decisions?”
Her sister stood. “Please. I know you’re meeting him tomorrow to talk about a job. Pot, meet kettle. I think you know each other’s color.”
Molly walked out, leaving Beth standing alone in her childhood bedroom, wondering why her heart couldn’t get on board with her head and kick this whole idea to the curb.
You should move to Chicago. You’re not getting any younger. It’s now or never.
The unwanted thoughts raced through her mind, but none of them seemed to stick. The only thing that did was this could be my second chance.
Monday morning, Beth awoke at dawn, showered, dressed and made her way to Butler’s to pick up coffee and scones before heading out to the farm.
“That was something on Saturday,” Callie said while she made Beth’s much-needed latte. “It even made me want to be a part of your big Fairwind Farm project.”
Beth felt her shoulders straighten as an idea hit her. “You should, Callie. You can run the bakery.”
Callie’s eyes brightened. “Really?”
“Would you ever want to do that?”
She laughed. “I’ve kind of been waiting for you to ask me.”
“Sorry. I’ve been preoccupied.”
“With anyone in particular?” Callie’s eyes twinkled.
Beth groaned. “Not you too.”
“Your sister told me you have a meeting with Drew Barlow this morning.” She waggled her eyebrows.
“A meeting, Cal. Not a date.”
“So this other cup of coffee—it’s for him?” She held it as if it were a sacred treasure.
Beth only stared.
“Okay, then you need pastries.” She shuffled around behind the counter for a few quick seconds. “Drew ate the cheese Danishes on Saturday, and I know you like my cinnamon scones.”
“You noticed what kind of Danishes he ate?”
Callie shrugged. “I keep track of what people like, what can I say?”
Beth took a quick drink of her latte as Callie handed her the bag. “Thanks.”
“So, it’s just going to be the two of you out there, huh?” Callie grinned.
“This is strictly professional.”
Callie pouted. “Well, that’s boring.”
“Boring is my middle name.”
“True.” She gave a soft sigh. “Is Ben going to help you guys out?”
Beth shrugged. “If Drew agrees, Ben said he’s in. We need his money.”
“What about his muscles?” Callie propped her elbow on the counter and her chin on her fist. “I could definitely use his muscles.”
Beth rolled her eyes. “Why don’t you say something to him already? Ask him to dinner?”
Callie groaned. “No, that would ruin the fantasy. At least this way there is still hope. If he turns me down, the sliver of hope is gone. Besides, I’m content to stare at him when he’s not looking and imagine what our children would look like.”
Beth covered Callie’s hands with her own. “Do you think you’ll ever get over him?”
“I was over him. Then I saw him Saturday.”
“Did you talk to him?”
Callie frowned. “Of course not. I hid myself in the back room and stared at him from behind the safety of a cracked door.”
Beth shook her head. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. Ben would be crazy not to fall head over heels for you.”
“Stop. I think you’re forgetting who we’re talking about here. Mr. Major League and the baker who still works for her parents.” She glanced at Beth as if realizing she’d said something offensive. “It’s not the same—you working for your dad’s company. You run that place. I’m a glorified barista making lattes for cranky customers all day.”
“Hey.” Beth held up her cup.
“I didn’t mean you. You seem surprisingly uncranky today.”
“I’m not even going to ask what you mean by that. I have to go.” Beth picked up her coffee and pastries and walked toward the door, guilt gnawing at her. She still hadn’t told Callie the truth about her job. How would she ever own up to it? She turned back before pushing the door open. “I’m serious about the bakery. You can work for yourself.”
“Done. I’ll give my notice today.” She winked.
“Might want to wait a few more months before you do that.”
“Have fun with your farmhand,” Callie called out.
Beth glared at her and shook her head, aware that everyone in the diner had heard the remark. Her friend looked anything but apologetic.
When she reached Fairwind, her latte was half-gone and her nerves were shot, just like they’d been the first day at every new job, class or interview she’d ever had. Professional nerves were natural, though, right? It had nothing to do with the beautiful man waiting for her on the steps of the old house.
A glance at the clock told her he was early. She could appreciate that in an employee.
As she parked, he stood, and Roxie ran out to greet her. The German shepherd had a sweet way about her. Beth might even grow to like her, which was strange considering she had never been an animal person. Molly was the animal lover in their family—she’d have a houseful if her landlord would allow it. But Beth? She didn’t want the hassle. Or the dog hair. Or the saliva.
Still, she rubbed Roxie between the ears when the dog reached her in the middle of the yard.
Drew wore jeans, a long-sleeved Henley and a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His tattered red ball cap sat backward on his head, and he seemed even better-looking than he had Saturday. How was that possible?
Somehow she didn’t think this kind of assessment qualified as professional.
They met halfway between the parking lot and the house, and she handed him the coffee. “I didn’t know if you’d have a chance to get breakfast.”
He took it, then directed her attention to the porch where two Butler’s coffees sat, a bag of pastries between them.
“I thought the same thing,” he said.
“You brought breakfast?” It was thoughtful. So few people were thoughtful anymore.
He looked away, almost shyly. “I guess we can save some of it for lunch.”
She laughed. “Great minds, right?”
“Only great if you got the best pastries.” He turned toward the porch.
She fell into step beside him. “Cheese Danish.”
“Oh, you’re good.” He sat down and took a drink. Roxie lay down in the grass at the bottom of the stairs. “Can I expect this kind of treatment every day if I take the job?”
She laughed. “Don’t count on it.”
A soft lull fell between them, and Beth realized it was her turn to talk—and not about pastries. A little playful banter was fine, but she needed to remember why they were there and act accordingly if she had any hope of winning this man’s respect.
She’d been working for respect since the day she graduated college—and while nobody else knew about some of the poor choices she’d made, she knew. Which meant she’d been working overtime for respect the past two years. She had a lot to make up for.
She reminded herself that he didn’t know any of that. He didn’t even know who she was.
It’s a second chance.
She pulled her portfolio from her bag and laid it on the porch between them. “Molly said you used to come here when you were a kid?”
He nodded. “Years ago. Haven’t been back since, though.”
“I’m not sure how much you remember.” She leaned back on the porch railing, trying to figure out how to sit properly when conducting business on the wide, run-down porch of an old farmhouse.
He looked away. “Not much, I’m afraid.”
She looked out across the acres. Knowing she could own a third of the farm still overwhelmed her. All that was left to do was sign the contract. This meeting might determine whether or not she did. She stood. “Maybe we should walk?”
“You’re the boss.”
She started off toward the barn and discovered he held back, just a few steps.
“Do you always walk this fast?”
She tossed a glance over her shoulder. “Do you always walk this slow?”
He caught up with her as they reached the barn.
“You’ve been in here,” she said. “This is the main building, the big white barn. You probably remember this is where the store was. And the fudge counter. And the—”
“Bakery.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I remember.”
“The coolers are still here. I just don’t know if they work. And of course everything needs to be cleaned.”
“You want to get the store up and running right away, I’m assuming?”
Beth faced him. “I guess we do. We have a lot of ideas right now—we’re still working on prioritizing them. My sister isn’t exactly practical, so I have to lay out some clear guidelines.”
He frowned. “Something got you worried?”
She must wear worry on her sleeve. “Look around. It all has me worried.”
He nodded.
“Anyway, back here . . .” She walked toward the kitchen. “We’re thinking a little bakery and restaurant.” She’d been half joking with Callie about opening up her own business, but she actually thought it was a great idea. Could she get her friend to leave the comfort of working at Butler’s? That remained to be seen.
Drew walked the edge of the barn, probably making a mental tally of the enormous workload in front of them.
“So, I’m thinking we’ll need to talk about refinishing the floors, repairing the walls and roof, painting, getting the kitchen in shape, that sort of thing. We’ll likely need new appliances, and it has to pass health-department inspection.”
That sounded like she knew what she was talking about, right? Maybe this wasn’t so very different from what she was used to. If she could run an office, she could do the same thing at Fairwind Farm.
Part of her wondered how long she’d need these daily pep talks.
He followed her out the back of the barn and onto the patio.
“They did a good job cleaning this Saturday,” Beth said. “I want to make sure it’s inviting. We want people to rent the space for family gatherings, weddings, reunions, parties.”
“So, will you restore the little chapel on the west side of the property?”
Her eyes darted to him. He stared out in the direction of the church and didn’t meet her gaze. “How’d you know about that?”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t everybody?”
She studied him, suddenly aware of how little she knew about him and his connection to Fairwind. “I never did.”
He took off in the opposite direction from the church, toward the outbuildings. “You gonna have animals?”
Was he changing the subject on purpose?
Beth groaned. “I guess. Molly wants them.”
“Don’t sound so excited.”
“I’m not much of an animal person,” she said. She glanced at Roxie. “No offense.”
He looked at the dog, then at Beth. “She’s tough. She can handle it.” He stopped outside a small barn near the pumpkin patch, with rows and rows of apple trees behind it. “This is where the animals were, right?”
She nodded. “Petting zoo.”
“Smart if you want kids to visit.” He studied her. “Unless you’re not much of a kid person either?”
Beth met his eyes. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“But you don’t have any?”
For someone who didn’t say much, he sure asked personal questions. “No. Do you?”
He shook his head.
“So, we’ll want to repair this barn and make sure it’s safe for animals. And then I guess I’ll have to figure out what animals to put in a petting zoo. And where to get them. And how to take care of them.”
He laughed. “Why’d you guys buy this place, anyway?”
The question took her off guard. But it was a fair one.
“You think it was a mistake?” She started past the animal barn toward two other outbuildings, neither of which she’d even been inside.
“I didn’t say that,” he said behind her.
“Despite what it looks like, this is a good investment.” She tried not to sound defensive.
“For the right investor, sure.”
“And I’m not the right one?” She turned and faced him. Only then did she realize he stood almost a foot taller than her. “You don’t think I can handle this.”
Calm down. Your insecurity is showing.
His eyes widened. “Not at all. I’m betting you can handle just about anything you put your mind to.”
Why did that sound like an accusation when he said it?
“But?” she asked.
He shrugged, almost as if he couldn’t be bothered. “You don’t really seem like the farming type.”
She hugged her portfolio to her chest. She’d read up on farming, orchards, what it took to restore old buildings. She’d crunched numbers and researched other businesses like Fairwind. Still, the fact was she was just as clueless as Molly, and Drew Barlow knew it. She didn’t like that at all.
She could pretend to know the lingo all she wanted. That didn’t make her an expert. Not yet.
“Is that right? What type do I seem like?”
He bent over and pulled a long blade of grass from the ground, then tore it into pieces as he spoke. “Bossy. Lots of money. Always in charge. You give the orders and people do what you say.”
Bossy? Just because she was a leader didn’t mean she was bossy. She planted her free hand on her hip.
His eyes narrowed. “But you don’t understand this farm, and that’s killing you.”
“That’s not true.” She and this farm were starting to become friends—at least she and the chapel were.
“You’re going to hire me to run the place, but I know more than you do, and that’s killing you.”
She turned away and started off into the trees. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It’s not a bad thing to admit you were wrong about something.” He followed close on her heels.
“I can admit when I’m wrong.” As she trudged through the trees, she thought about the last time she’d messed up and how she had yet to tell a single soul. By definition, she absolutely could not admit when she was wrong.
She moved forward, hoping eventually she’d land near one of the other barns she knew was back here somewhere. “I can admit I might have been wrong to assume you were the best person for this job.”
After too many long seconds of silence, Beth realized Drew was no longer behind her. His idea of a joke, maybe? Let her get lost in the woods on her own property and force her to ask for help.
“Drew?” She stilled and listened, but all around her there were only sounds of nature. Two birds had a melodic conversation overhead. “Drew?” she called out again, but still no response.
Her heart raced as she turned back in the direction she’d just come from. All around, she searched for signs of where he might’ve gone, until finally, in the distance, she spotted a lonely old barn. Was this one of theirs?
If so, maybe he’d known about it and wanted to see how badly it was damaged. Leaving her alone in the woods might’ve just been thoughtless, though that seemed out of character for someone who’d brought her coffee and pastries.
Maybe she’d irked him enough to make him leave.
The air felt thick, like a heavy cloud had settled right over this barn and where she stood. She stared at it, heart still pounding too loud and too fast in her chest.
“Drew?” She called out again, moving around the corner of the building, where she found the doors open and Drew inside with his back to her. He stood, unmoving, at the center of the hollow space—a small, dilapidated barn with a rickety ladder leading up to what she could only assume was a very unsafe loft.
He was like a statue where he stood, and she wasn’t sure if she should interrupt him.
“Drew?” She kept her voice quiet.
He turned, and for a brief moment, he looked like he didn’t remember who she was, as if he’d been immersed in some other world.
“Are you okay?”
He looked away, still seeming lost in a distant fog.
“I guess this is one of ours too, huh?” She met him in the center of the space. “I don’t know that this will be very high on the priority list, though. Doesn’t seem like one we would need right away, does it?”
He shook his head, but said nothing.
“I wonder what they used this one for. Horses, it looks like.”
Still, he didn’t respond.
Unlike the other buildings, this one appeared to have been cleaned out, at least partially. Maybe one of the workers had stumbled in here Saturday and swept.
“Drew?”
Finally, he met her eyes, and she saw something behind them she didn’t recognize. “Sorry,” he said, then turned and walked out.
Back on the path, it was she who wondered why he was walking so fast. She struggled to keep up with him as he strode back toward the main barn, Roxie at his side.
When they reached the yard, Beth finally caught up with him—or he finally let her. “Is everything okay?”
“It’s a lot of work,” he said, avoiding her question as he trudged on toward his truck.
“Too much work?” She watched him, wondering why he’d gone from cocky and teasing to awkward and withdrawn in a matter of seconds. Maybe he didn’t want the job after all.
“I’ll have a detailed plan including an estimated budget by morning,” he said, still avoiding her eyes.
“That would be good. Should we discuss payment?”
“I’m fine with whatever you decide.”
Independently wealthy? He didn’t dress it or drive it. “You sure about that?”
He nodded. “If we’re done, I’d like to get started.”
She hadn’t expected that. What was he going to do out there by himself?
He waited several seconds, and when she didn’t respond, he went around her and pulled tools from the back of his truck. He started off in the opposite direction, but stopped—abruptly—and faced her. “One more thing.”
She looked at him, holding the gaze she’d been working so hard for, until he eventually broke eye contact.
“What are your plans for the house?”
Beth glanced beyond where Drew stood to the old farmhouse that had fallen into the same disrepair as the rest of the farm. Inside, it looked like it had been frozen in time, but it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. She assumed Harold had maintained the house at least a little longer than he had the barns, but it still needed some major updates and a few repairs.
“What do you mean?”
He squinted in the sunlight behind her, then turned his hat around to shield his eyes. “You can pay me a lot less if you let me stay here in the house. I’ll work on it in my free time, get it back in shape. Unless you planned to move in right away.”
“I don’t plan to move in at all.”
“Ever?”
She hadn’t even considered moving in. Would Molly want the house? Someone should live there if they owned it.
“I’m not sure.”
“Well, let me know. The hotel guests don’t like Roxie, so the owner said I need to make other arrangements.” Roxie perked up at the mention of her name.
“By when?”
He glanced at his truck in the driveway. “Tonight.”
Beth laughed. “I don’t think you’re going to want to stay here tonight. We haven’t even cleared out the old man’s things.”
He shrugged. “I’ve stayed in worse.”
Something about this felt horribly wrong, yet before he walked away, she heard herself tell Drew Barlow to go ahead and move his things into the house at Fairwind Farm.