by Melissa West
Now, years later, but he couldn’t help wonder what would have happened if he’d stayed, talked, tried. Would they be together now? Married? Children? Would he be holding his wife as she cried instead of this woman who was almost a stranger to him? He didn’t know.
The service ended and Logan squeezed Savannah’s shoulder, expecting her to pull away. Instead, she gripped his hand tighter. “Will you…?”
Her voice hitched, and he nodded. “Whatever you need.”
She walked out hand-in-hand with him, not arguing when he guided her to his truck and helped her inside. Then they led the family procession, behind the hearse and cop car, her staring out the back window, a solemn look on her face.
“What are you doing?” Logan asked after several minutes.
She turned around, a small smile on her face. “I’m counting cars. It’s nice to see so many people. Mama was loved.”
Logan reached for her hand. “She was.”
“Thank you. For the service. For this. For everything.” She leveled her gaze on him, her eyes still red and puffy from crying, but damn if she wasn’t as beautiful as ever.
He wanted to say he’d do anything for her, be anywhere, walk through fire, but those weren’t things she needed to hear just then. So instead, he accepted her gratitude with a single nod and gently stroked her hand with his thumb as he drove her to the burial. For now, that was enough for him.
Chapter Seven
It took Savannah a week to organize things at the bed-and-breakfast enough to open it back up for business. The water was one thing, but as she walked from room to room, each floor, each section, she found a laundry list of things that needed fixing. None of that included the business of the financials, which Savannah had finally mustered up the courage to tackle, praying her mama hadn’t been the one she’d learned her spending habits from.
She sat down at the desk in her parents’ office and pulled out the file their accountant Frank had given her. A strange look had crossed his face when he’d passed it over, like he was handing her a mouse in a trap, glad to see it off his property.
Keeping the place closed for a week had been a risk, but Logan paid her every day as if it were his last, only to book another day and then another. And though at first she’d been angry to see him staying at the bed-and-breakfast, now it was a relief to have a friendly face around.
Opening the file, Savannah read through the numbers, her eyebrows threading together with each line until she reached the very red number at the end. She pushed out of the cracked leather chair and stood over the paperwork, sure she wasn’t reading it correctly. But there it was, plain as day, screaming at her that she didn’t need glasses after all.
The bed-and-breakfast was four months behind in its mortgage, and if she didn’t bring it current in the next twenty-five days, the house would go into foreclosure.
Her heart sped up as she read the words again and again. Foreclosure. So Logan’s employer didn’t just want to buy the bed-and-breakfast. They planned to swoop in and get it for a giant discount once the house foreclosed. The jerks!
She thought of trying to sell the place and felt her heart drop. The Hales had always owned the bed-and-breakfast. It’d been in their family for three generations. What had happened? Yes, Jane Hale was bad with money, but this?
She picked up the phone in the office and dialed their accountant then, growing frustrated, packed up all the paperwork and slid back into her flip-flops, deciding she’d just walk down to Frank’s office instead.
Flying out of the room, she narrowly missed Logan, whose friendly face was looking less and less friendly to her by the second. “You didn’t tell me you were some bottom-feeder wanting to snatch the place once we lost it.”
He shook his head. “What?” Then his gaze landed on the folder with a thousand papers sticking out in a thousand different directions. “It isn’t like that. We should talk about this.”
“What is there to talk about? Is that why you’re here? To spy on things? See what you’re getting?”
When he didn’t answer, she stormed past him.
“Wait, let me—”
She spun around. “Explain? Is there an explanation? Really? ’Cause I don’t think there is. You know, every time I think I can count on you, every time I let my guard down, you toss me right back to the ground. What did I ever do to make you hate me so much? Was it Will? Jealousy? Because I’ll tell you something, Logan Park, never once did I hate you. And never in my life would I kick you when you were already at your lowest. I just lost my mama and now you’re here to take the one thing that meant the most to her. I want you out of here. Now.”
The sky turned dark overhead, matching Savannah’s mood as she marched down the cobblestone road and straight toward Frank’s office. She couldn’t believe Logan. Couldn’t believe she’d been so stupid. Again! How was it possible that one man could weasel his way into her heart again and again without her learning?
Well, no more.
She tore into Cooke Accounting, ignoring the looks from Louisa, Frank’s admin, seated at the small front desk, eating a jelly donut by the looks of the sticky stuff on her chin and fingertips.
“Is he here?” Savannah asked. Then without waiting for an answer she marched down the hall and tossed open the last door on the right to find the small old man behind his desk, his glasses jumping to his forehead as he jumped at her intrusion.
“Ms. Hale? What on earth?”
“Why didn’t you tell me the bed-and-breakfast was in the red? Did you want to wait until it foreclosed? I should have gotten a call the moment I came to town.”
“I thought you needed to deal with your mama’s death. I didn’t want to—”
“You let me close it down for a week! I could have helped get it back up.”
Frank threaded his fingers together and peered at her like she was a lost puppy who’d never had a home to begin with. “I don’t think there’s anything that can be done at this point. Your mother tried to refinance and—”
“Well, as you can plainly see, I’m not my mama.”
He straightened. “But Jane said you had no interest in taking over the bed-and-breakfast. That none of you did. Besides, you have no idea how to run one.”
“Yeah, well, everybody’s got to start somewhere.”
Savannah walked out and slammed the door, fuming. Then, remembering that she still needed him to actually be her accountant, she walked back in, an apologetic smile on her face. “Thank you for your time,” she said, then closed the door quietly and nodded to Louisa before setting out down the sidewalk, crossing over to Southern Sandwich for some food and coffee. She needed nourishment if she hoped to save her family’s business.
As always, Southern Sandwich brimmed with people, the shop still a favorite in the town. The walls were all lined with photos—some old, some new. Some from Maple, and some from events in the South. Light blue booths lined one wall, and a dozen four-chair tables occupied the rest of the open space, blue- and white-checkered print on the tablecloths. From the look to the smell, the sandwich shop oozed everything Southern.
Savannah smiled as Mrs. Gray, the shop owner, came over and patted Savannah’s hand. She wore a white dress with a bright red apron, the words “Life never brings a baker lemons. Only lemon cake” in swirling yellow across the top. Her dark, curly hair was pinned into a bun, like always, and her face bore not a trace of makeup. With a glow like hers, she never needed it.
“Have whatever you like, honey. On the house.”
“Oh, that’s not—”
“It’s what Jane would have done for my girls.”
Savannah sighed. Mrs. Gray was right. Jane would have given anyone who needed it a free stay at the bed-and-breakfast, which was perhaps what landed it in such financial ruin.
With a hug and a thank-you, Savannah slid into a table in the back corner and spread out the financials again, eager to see what she could do, but her eyes went straight to the giant red number. There shou
ld be a sticky note of warning on this folder—enter at your own risk, could cause possible heart attack or prolonged weeping.
She had a third of the money they needed in savings, but how could she get the rest? Leigh or Jack, maybe. Certainly Jack would have money. Unless he, like Savannah, had inherited their mother’s spending habits and was as broke as the rest of them.
“Coffee?”
Savannah nodded to Mrs. Gray. “Thank you. And maybe just a ham and cheese croissant?”
“Coming up,” Mrs. Gray said, smiling, then her gaze locked on the wall beside Savannah. “Fitting table.”
Savannah’s eyes lifted to the wall, and her chest clenched tight at the framed photo beside her. Why didn’t she notice it before?
Will and Logan stood in their uniforms, arms draped around each other’s shoulders, giant smiles on their faces. They were polar opposites. Logan was all blond hair and impossibly green eyes, set against that golden skin of his. Even in his uniform, he had a rough and wild look about him. Carefree to the extreme, nothing anchoring him in place.
Will was different—fair skin, chocolate hair with just a touch of caramel, blue eyes that were always warm. He was responsible and polished, clearly the result of a proper upbringing. He knew how to speak in a crowd, was well mannered and kind to a fault, which was how he and Logan had become friends in the first place.
Logan’s father had been driving drunk and crashed his truck, but he was too gone to even know what had happened. And he certainly couldn’t care less that his son was in the car with him. Will’s family found ten-year-old Logan walking down the street, a deep gash across his forehead. They took him to the hospital, paid for stitches, and brought him to their house, where he would forever be a family member.
“I can move you if this is too much,” Mrs. Gray said, her expression full of concern. She placed a hand on Savannah’s shoulder, and the motherly gesture made Savannah ache for her own mother so very badly.
“It’s okay.” She swallowed and met Mrs. Gray’s caring eyes, hoping her own didn’t show just how much it hurt to sit here beside Will and Logan, knowing what she felt for each of them…even then.
But she didn’t have time to worry about it before her former friends surrounded Mrs. Gray. “We’ll make sure she’s fine, Mrs. Gray.”
“So tell us everything,” the blondes said. Savannah quickly closed her paperwork and tried not to come across as frustrated as she felt. No woman should have to run into people from high school when she was at her lowest. It should be a quick pass by, a wave at a traffic light before going on your way. But that wasn’t Maple. After all, it only had the two traffic lights, and one remained forever on green.
Savannah laughed uncomfortably. “Oh, not sure what there is to tell.”
Brenna pulled out the chair beside Savannah and the other two women took the other chairs. “Well let us fill you in.”
Just then Jim walked in, tool belt hanging low around his waist, a swipe of oil or God knew what on his cheek. His dark black hair was cropped short, and his skin had a deep bronze tan from all his work around town. He wore Carhartt cargo pants and a white T-shirt that stretched tight across his muscular frame.
“We’ll start with him,” Dana said, nodding to Jim.
Doing a double take at Dana, then Jim, Savannah leaned in, allowing herself to get caught up in the gossip, then cursing herself for falling prey to it. She was an adult now! She didn’t care who did what with whom! Yet… “Jim? What about him?”
It was Hannah who answered. “Apparently he’s been hooking up with someone around town. No one knows who because they’ve never gone out in public and are very stealthy about the whole thing.” She lowered her voice. “Rumor has it he’s shacking up with Marlie Blackson.”
“What?” Savannah recoiled, shaking her head as her gaze lifted back to Jim, who was now ordering from the to-go counter. “Marlie’s married. Jim wouldn’t mess around with a married woman.”
“How do you know?” Brenna asked, appearing a little too excited to discuss Jim. Like maybe she wished his secret relationship was with her.
“I’ve known Jim since I was seven years old, when I found him and Jack ripping all the heads off my Barbie dolls. He’s Jack’s best friend, and he’s a good guy.”
“Then who?”
Savannah stared between them. “First, how do you know it’s someone from town? And second, it’s none of our business.”
Still, she couldn’t help wondering who her old family friend had met.
“Who are you kidding?” Hannah chimed in. “Maple’s a small town. Everything’s everyone’s business, whether we like it or not. Kind of like that thing going on with you and Logan Park. Rumor has it you’re making use of all those empty rooms at the B and B.”
Savannah choked on her sweet tea, hacking her way through it as she stared wide-eyed at the woman who’d once been her friend, though she couldn’t for the life of her remember why. Had they always been like this? It explained why none of them had relationships of their own to worry over.
Mrs. Gray set down a brown bag in front of Savannah, saving her from answering the question. “Your to-go order, honey,” Mrs. Gray said, winking at Savannah.
She stood quickly, grabbing the bag and her folder. “Um, thanks. Yeah…I have to go. See you ladies another time.”
“We certainly hope so,” Dana said.
Then Hannah called out Savannah’s name, and she turned to find her smiling a little too sweetly. “If you’re not taking advantage of Logan being back in town, then maybe I will.” Her eyes twinkled, daring Savannah to stake her claim on Logan. Instead, Savannah gripped the brown bag tighter in her hand.
“Do whatever you like. It doesn’t matter to me.”
If only she could convince herself of that.
...
Logan considered packing his things for all of five seconds. But then he thought of all those years of his life spent doing what others told him to do, and he wasn’t going. He was sent to Maple for a purpose, and though a part of him was struggling with how he would actually go through with that, he wasn’t a quitter. He reminded himself that this was all for Will. Though, he wondered, if Will had worked for Hartsford and Long, like he’d always dreamed of doing, would he have agreed to handle their acquisition of the B and B? Or would he have told them no? Logan couldn’t be sure, but he tried to tell himself it wasn’t personal. Savannah didn’t want the B and B anyway. None of the Hales wanted to run it. Who cared who owned it?
So with that in mind, he wasn’t leaving. He decided that if Savannah thought she could kick him out, she’d have to call Travis, Maple’s sheriff, to come arrest him, and they both knew Travis would do little more than laugh.
Finishing up a few emails, Logan looked through the files Chloe had saved on the server for him. He scanned the layout of the bed-and-breakfast and then the land. They could definitely expand the back patio. Maybe even do a screened-in siting area to keep the bugs out. They could offer special couple meals out on the patio. Private music, perhaps? Or candlelight? He tapped his pen against the notepad beside his laptop, thinking he’d never be able to create an adequate list of upgrades without doing a full tour of the place.
Resigned, he pushed away from the small wooden desk and peered around the room. There was a queen-size, mahogany wood bed with a white quilt and linens and red throw pillows. The desk chair cushion matched the red pillows, which Logan thought was a nice touch. There was a nightstand to the left of the bed, and to the right a bookshelf with hardcovers stacked in alphabetical order. Then above the desk, attached to the wall, was a forty-two inch TV. The room was cozy, but had its modern touches as well. He wondered if all the rooms were decorated like this one, or if each room was different. There wasn’t an easy way to find out without shacking up with another guest or asking Savannah. Somehow the latter seemed the more difficult of the choices.
“Howdy, neighbor.”
Logan opened the door to his room to find Leigh le
aning against the wall, looking like she’d no sooner trust him than a copperhead. A bright red headband sliced across her ultra-black hair, matching the red of her lipstick. He had no idea why she’d dyed her strawberry blond locks black, but her new dark look matched the glare she shot at him now.
“Leigh. How are you feeling?”
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.” She tapped her head. “Everyone thinks Savannah’s the brains of our family, but I’m the silent thinker, and I have all sorts of thoughts about you, Logan Park.”
Logan grinned at the use of his full name. Why the Hales chose to call him Logan Park instead of just Logan was beyond him, but he liked it.
“Um, well, glad to hear it. I was just…” Logan pointed to the stairs, but Leigh took a step toward them, blocking him.
“Where are you going?”
“I thought I’d go out on the patio.”
“Why?”
Logan started to answer when the room across from Leigh’s opened and Jack stepped out. He eyed his sister, then Logan, sensing the tension. “Ignore her.” He motioned to the stairs, and he and Logan went down them, Leigh on their heels.
“You realize he’s trying to buy the bed-and-breakfast, don’t you?”
“So? Let him.”
“What?” Leigh half shouted at him.
“Actually I’m not trying to buy it, my firm is.”
Leigh glared at Logan. “And how is that any different?”
“Well—”
“And don’t you have an ounce of family loyalty?” she spit out at her brother—literally spitting as she spoke, her anger taking over.
“It’s not a matter of family loyalty. We all have lives.” Jack crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing. “Well, Savannah and I do. You? I guess you could run it if you’d like, but something tells me you can’t afford to. Why not let Park buy it? Who cares?”
Logan could have sworn smoke blew out Leigh’s ears. Her fists clenched, and Logan felt it was time to get the hell out of Dodge before he got any more caught up in their sibling squabble.
