Chapter Twenty-Seven
What had he done?
Drew closed the door behind Beth, wishing he could pull her back inside and tell her everything. Every moment he stayed quiet only put more distance between them. He knew it, so why hadn’t he just explained everything?
He had much more to lose than he’d thought he did.
Birdie had seen it—why hadn’t he?
“When are you going to tell her how you feel?” She’d dotted her paintbrush on the canvas in front of her.
“About what?”
She’d tossed the brush into the jar of paint water and glared at him over the top of those reading glasses she wore. “Don’t play dumb with me.”
“She’s my boss.”
“And?”
“I don’t have feelings for her. I respect her, but that’s all.”
“You’re either lying to yourself or lying to me or both.” Birdie had shaken her head, tsk-tsking him as she did. “I just hope you wake up before it’s too late. That girl won’t be around forever.”
Maybe he’d been chewing on the whole idea a little more than he should’ve been. As it was, Beth was just about the only good thing he had in his life. He watched her sometimes, amused by her stubbornness. The woman would try the same thing ten times and never ask for help. Usually, he’d wait for her to leave and then fix whatever it was she’d been trying to do without a word.
One of these days, maybe she’d get used to needing someone else, but so far that hadn’t happened. It was one of the things he liked about her.
One of many things.
Seeing her all fired up today—it set something off inside him. He’d gotten under her skin, and he loved that he had.
He more than liked her.
He spent the rest of the day working monotonous chores and trying to forget, but his mind wouldn’t let him.
Finally, after a full evening of not forgetting, he dropped onto the couch with a heavy sigh. Now that Molly knew there had been a witness to Jess’s kidnapping, it was only a matter of time until they found out it was Drew. Beth deserved to hear it from him, not from some retired detective who’d worked the case two decades ago. That knowledge, coupled with the memory of the way her body felt in his arms, kept him staring at the ceiling throughout the night.
He’d missed her as soon as she’d walked out the door, and he hated himself for it. Hated that, after everything, he was still a coward.
Morning came too early and he awoke, certain he’d been dreaming again. He lay still for a few long moments as his mind tried to recall the faintest detail—anything that might give him insight into what had happened in the barn that day. But, like a misty fog hugging the morning, it dissipated as soon as he realized he was awake.
His cell phone buzzed on the table beside him. The clock read seven, and the caller ID read Beth.
The memory of her kisses raced to his mind.
“Hey.” He tried to sound more awake than he felt.
“Did I wake you?” Her tone apologized.
“No, I’m awake. Just not up.”
A quiet pause made him imagine the look on her face. He ached for the moment he could kiss her again.
“I’m sorry to call so early. I had a message from Davis Biddle on my phone this morning.”
“Oh?”
“Well, from his assistant. He has a male assistant. Is that weird?”
Drew laughed. “I don’t think so.”
“He asked if I could meet Mr. Biddle today at eight. I thought I’d call and see if you were serious about coming along.”
He’d suggested it for two reasons. One, like he’d said, he didn’t trust Biddle. And he supposed a part of him wanted to protect Beth, just in case. But two—and this was the part that grated on him—the name was familiar. Maybe seeing the man in person would rattle something loose.
“Of course. Should I meet you?”
“No,” Beth said. “I’ll come to you since he lives just down the road from there.”
And maybe that’s where the familiarity ended. Maybe he’d heard his parents or Jess talking about Davis Biddle. Maybe Davis had nothing to offer Drew’s spotty memory at all.
But there was only one way to find out.
Beth arrived at the door forty-five minutes later, coffee in hand.
“You knocked.” He stood in the doorway, taking her in.
“I felt like I should.”
She’d probably been trying to process what had happened between them. Why couldn’t they just leave it undefined? They’d kissed—was that a big deal?
His gaze fell to her lips.
Yeah, it was a big deal. Because he hadn’t stopped thinking about doing it again since she’d left yesterday afternoon.
“Can I come in?”
He laughed. “Of course. Sorry. What time did you get up?” He led her into the kitchen.
“Early.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I didn’t sleep well.”
“You too?”
She watched him. The expression on her face said nothing and everything at the same time. She wanted answers—he’d only made things more confusing with that very not-polite kiss.
But he didn’t have words for any of it. “We should probably go.”
She looked away with a quick nod and walked outside to the car, with Drew following close behind. The entire silent car ride, he tried—failed—to think of something to say. He had to find a way to tell her how he fit into Fairwind’s sordid past, but every time he looked at her, he lost his nerve.
It was stupid, but he didn’t want to lose her. In his entire life, he’d never felt for anyone the way he felt for Beth. He’d never let himself. He’d been stuck in the past since the day Jess went missing. Thick, heavy, painful memories had kept him grounded, and the longer he stayed at Fairwind, the more he realized that wasn’t going to change.
They arrived at the gates in front of the Biddle estate, and Beth waited to be buzzed through. His silence had to be killing her, yet he had no words to remedy that. Instead, he reached over and took her hand, hoping that she’d somehow understand what he couldn’t say.
Forgive me.
She glanced at him, probably confused by the mixed signals he sent, but he kept his gaze steady on the house in front of them.
When the gates opened, they passed through and drove up the driveway to the mansion at the back of the property.
“I did some research,” Beth said. “He built this house about thirty years ago and lives here with his son. No wife. I think she passed away a long time ago.”
“So it’s just him, his kid and his money.”
She turned off the engine. “And I imagine a whole staff of people to answer his beck and call.”
“Let’s go find out.”
The stone fountain at the center of the circle drive shot water into the air, making the grand spectacle that was the Biddle estate even grander. The mansion itself may’ve been Fairwind’s closest neighbor, but the two homes couldn’t have been more different. While Fairwind had farmhouse charm, the cover of ancient trees and green earth, the Biddle estate had an elaborate and stately appeal.
Drew waited for Beth to comment on the two-story stone structure in front of them, but even as a man let them into the entryway, complete with marble floors and a winding staircase, she said nothing.
The man led them into a study. “Have a seat. Mr. Biddle will be with you shortly.”
On one side of the room, a large fireplace with a thick white mantel held professional photos of a man who must have been Davis Biddle, shaking hands with important politicians and professional athletes.
After ten quiet minutes of watching Beth push buttons on her phone, Drew finally let out a sigh.
“Bet you wish you’d stayed behind,” she said without looking up.
Was she mad at him? He couldn’t blame her, as silent as he’d been. It wasn’t right to kiss a girl the way he’d kissed Beth and then refuse to talk about it the next day. He could’ve at least greeted her with a kiss this morning—anything to let her know he didn’t regret how things might’ve changed between them.
He only regretted that he’d allowed their relationship to grow under false pretenses.
Before he could say anything—as if he would’ve said anything—the oversized wooden door opened, and in walked a sturdy-looking man dressed in a neat suit and tie. He wore an indifferent expression on his face, like he might or might not have been aware of their presence in his office.
Drew waited for something about the man to strike a chord of familiarity, but nothing came. If he’d ever met Davis Biddle before, he certainly didn’t remember him now.
“I assume you’re Beth Whitaker?” The man sat in the chair behind his desk and looked at Beth.
She inched forward and stuck her hand out to greet him. “I am.”
He shook it—one firm shake—and then glanced at Drew. “I didn’t know you were bringing a guest.”
Beth tossed a glance in Drew’s direction. “He’s not a guest. He’s my grounds manager.”
Had she just made that title up on the spot? She didn’t even stutter. Something in her had changed, as if she’d become a different version of herself as soon as the man had entered the room. Maybe this was the Beth he’d seen traces of over the past few weeks. She had professionalism and confidence written all over her.
“I see.” Davis regarded Drew long enough to make him uncomfortable. “And your name?”
“Drew Barlow.” He stuck out a hand.
Davis paused for too many seconds before reciprocating the gesture. He hesitated before finally turning his attention back to Beth. “So you’ve considered my offer.”
Beth frowned. “Sir?”
“My assistant spoke with your sister after the auction.”
“She told me. And I suppose, yes, I am here about that, among other things.” Beth leaned forward in the chair. Drew couldn’t help but notice she looked stunning. She’d pulled her hair back and dressed up for the meeting, he assumed to impress the powerful man on the other side of the desk.
He tried to focus on her words instead of the way her black dress pants hugged her hips or how her sleeveless blouse dipped at her chest, showing a simple silver necklace with something he couldn’t read engraved on it.
“What kind of other things?” Davis folded his hands on the desk and stared at Beth. She stared right back. Drew felt like he was sitting too close to a Mexican standoff.
“I was told you had interest in investing in Fairwind Farm.” Beth crossed her legs and leaned on the arm of her chair.
Davis chuckled. “Is that what you heard?”
She frowned. “Have I been misinformed?”
Drew waited for her cheeks to heat red like they usually did when she was embarrassed, but she maintained complete composure.
“Yes. I’m in real estate, Miss Whitaker. I know a lemon when I see it. I respect your sense of nostalgia, but surely you must see this project is doomed. What I’d hoped my assistant conveyed to your sister is that, when you both realize you’ve had too much of this, I’ll take the old place off your hands.”
Beth pressed her lips together. “I see.”
“I would’ve purchased the property myself if I’d been in town when Harold died. My lawyer was supposed to alert me of any change in the property. He didn’t. He’s no longer my lawyer.” Davis smiled.
“I understand.”
One of his eyebrows hitched up. “I’m happy to get you out of this mess, though, if you’re in over your head. I just don’t see it as a wise investment unless I have complete control.”
“From what I understand, you’ve been investing in Fairwind for years.”
Drew wasn’t sure if Davis was surprised or impressed with Beth’s straightforwardness. Drew was both.
“Unless you didn’t hire someone to maintain the orchards?” she continued.
“Walter.”
“Yes, Walter. He said you’ve been paying him regularly for twenty years. That’s a long time to invest in a property you don’t control.”
He drew in a slow breath, smile holding steady on his face. “I made Harold an offer years ago. The land backs up to my property, and there is value in those apple trees. He wouldn’t sell, but we did eventually work out a deal.”
“What kind of deal?” Beth stared at him.
“I hired Walter to handle the orchards, and we split the profits.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Call me a Good Samaritan.”
Beth folded her hands in her lap but said nothing. Drew wondered if she was remembering the rest of their conversation with Walter. According to him, Biddle wasn’t making a penny on those apples.
“Look, you seem like a smart girl.” Davis opened his portfolio, scribbled something on the pad and tore out the sheet of paper. He folded it and pushed it across the desk. “My offer.”
Beth glanced at the paper but didn’t pick it up.
“You won’t get a better one.”
“Why is that farm worth anything to you? You have a whole estate here. Don’t tell me you need more land.”
Davis shrugged. “I have my reasons. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other business to attend to.” He nodded toward the folded piece of yellow paper. “Be sure to take that with you.”
After the door closed behind him, Beth snatched the paper off the desk, shoved it in her purse without looking at it and stomped out the door.