by Kirk, Cindy
Chapter Three
After returning to the school for a meeting, Clay drove to Wrigley Road to meet his brother. David had big plans for this land and wanted to show Clay the progress he and his partners had made.
It wouldn’t get dark until eight, so they had plenty of time. As he pulled behind David’s new Jeep Grand Cherokee on the side of the road, Clay realized again just how thankful he was that his brother had moved back to Good Hope. There were enough years between them that they hadn’t been close growing up.
Now, with David settled and both of them firmly entrenched in careers they loved, they’d become good friends.
David’s wife stood beside him. Hadley was blond and as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside. She was as different from Whitney—David’s first wife—as two women could possibly be.
Their daughter, Brynn, ran to Clay’s SUV.
“Look, Uncle Clay.” Brynn, a pretty girl with her mother’s blond hair, pointed. “They’re putting up walls.”
Clay would have had to be blind not to see the studs and rafters. “Last time I was here, they’d just broken ground.”
“The weather has been good,” Brynn told him, obviously repeating her father’s words. “That’s why things are moving so quickly.”
David and Hadley watched him approach.
His sister-in-law jostled his fussy baby nephew in her arms.
“Give him to me.” Clay held out his arms, and the baby lunged forward. “Carter adores his uncle.”
The baby was chubby, with pink cheeks and his father’s dark hair. From the time he’d been an infant, he’d taken a shine to Clay.
Holding him made Clay wonder what it would be like to have a son or daughter of his own. First things first, he reminded himself. Love. Then marriage. Then children.
The boy instantly quieted. Clay gestured toward the construction site. “Amazing progress.”
“The crew is ahead of schedule,” Brynn repeated. “They want a bonus.”
“Exactly right, Sweet Pea.” David planted a kiss on the top of the ten-year-old’s head.
Clay furrowed his brow. “How did I miss this much progress?”
“We talked about it at the last couple of Sunday dinners at Mom’s house.”
“And at Sunday breakfast at Muddy Boots,” Hadley tossed in.
Breakfasts, Clay realized, he’d missed. Stella hadn’t liked getting up early for church and then meeting with his friends at Muddy Boots afterward. He couldn’t count the number of times Stella had told him she preferred to do something “fun” rather than attend the Chapin family dinner on Sunday evening.
Because he’d sensed their relationship faltering, he’d made more of an effort to do everything she wanted during the past couple of weeks. All for naught, he thought.
The strange thing was, instead of being broken up at the thought of not seeing her anymore, he felt only relief.
“I’ve been out of the loop,” Clay gazed over the building that was beginning to take shape. “What’s the completion date?”
“September.” David nodded in satisfaction. “That allows the businesses being displaced to move in after tourist season ends, but before the weather turns. Assuming, of course, they elect to take one of the spaces.”
“Displaced?” Clay really felt out of the loop.
“The 300 block of buildings on Main. When we saw that the five-year leases were expiring, Mom made the decision last year not to renew them. The businesses were notified.”
Clay pictured the street in his mind, then narrowed in on the 300 block. His heart gave a ping. “That’s where Book & Cup is located.”
“That’s the block.” David nodded. “Book & Cup, along with Echoes of Yesterday and Swoon, were given the opportunity to move into this new space.”
“For the same rent?”
David shot him a surprised look. “At a fair rate.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.”
David appeared puzzled by the comment. “I’ll show you the figures. These businesses have been underpaying for years, Clay. We’re offering them prime space in a new building with new wiring, plumbing and lots of insulation. They should recoup the increased rent costs in utility savings alone.”
Clay thought of Bea. She’d never brought up the move or her feelings about it. “What does Judy Koontz think?”
“Who?” David asked.
“Judy Koontz, Cal’s widow,” Hadley answered before Clay could. “She owns Book & Cup.”
“That’s right. Mom and Greer have been involved in the specifics regarding the leases.”
“I do recall her mentioning Echoes is on board. I’m not sure about the other two.”
“Do you think Judy realizes she’ll be tossed out at the end of the summer?” Clay asked.
“How could she not?” David leaned over and tickled his son’s belly, producing a baby giggle, then glanced up at Clay. “The wording in the letter I saw was clear.”
When Clay opened his mouth, David continued. “There have been several follow-up letters since.”
“You’re worried about Judy.” Hadley voiced it as a comment, not a question.
“Who’s worried?” Brynn returned from across the road. She’d obviously tired of staring into the hole in the ground.
“Just business,” David said.
“Can I climb on that?” Brynn gestured to a large Caterpillar.
Clay wasn’t surprised by the request. His niece might love pink, glitter and sparkly nail polish, but she was also athletic and curious.
David and Hadley exchanged looks.
“I don’t know anything about equipment like that,” Hadley told her husband.
“Just be careful.” Her father’s okay had Brynn emitting a little squeal as she headed toward the big Cat. “As long as they took the key from the ignition, she should be fine.”
Hadley gestured to the baby. “I can take him, if you want.”
Carter’s head rested against the front of Clay’s shirt. His eyes were closed, and dark lashes fanned his chubby cheeks. His small mouth moved in sleep. “We’re okay. Just doing some uncle-nephew bonding.”
“You’ll be a great father,” Hadley told him, a soft smile lifting her lips.
“Someday, maybe.” Clay glanced down at his nephew and missed the glance Hadley shot her husband.
“How are things going between you and Stella?” David’s voice was casual, too casual.
“We broke up today.” Clay shifted the baby in his arms. “Or rather, she called it quits.”
“She broke up with you?” Hadley sounded shocked, as if the thought of any woman doing such a thing to her brother-in-law was unthinkable.
“She did.” Clay gave a little laugh. “Things have been rocky for weeks, but I was surprised she ended it.”
Hadley placed a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry.”
“How do you feel about the break?” David asked, his gaze on Clay.
“I’m actually okay,” Clay admitted. “It’s strange how I could date her for all those months, yet not really care that we’re no longer together.”
“I never thought you were a good match.” Hadley shrugged. “I don’t know what you saw in her.”
“Hadley.” David’s voice held a warning.
“C’mon, David,” Hadley shot back. “You didn’t like her either.”
“She was important to Clay,” was his brother’s response.
Clay rocked back on his heels.
“I don’t know what it is with me.” Though he wasn’t amused, Clay offered a little laugh. “I always pick the wrong women.”
“We all make mistakes.” David’s eyes grew distant, and Clay assumed his brother was thinking of Whitney. Then his gray eyes cleared and rested on his wife. “Then we find the one we’re meant to be with forever, and the past fades away.”
While Clay appreciated his brother lumping the two of them into the same mold, it wasn’t the same. “You made one mistake. Granted, it was huge. Me
? I keep making the same mistake over and over.”
“You didn’t marry any of them,” Hadley pointed out. “When you find the right one, you’ll know.”
Would he? Clay wondered. He wished he could be so confident.
* * *
On Saturday morning, Bea stepped into Marigold’s studio and came face-to-face with Clay’s sister. Greer stood in the small salon, chatting with Marigold.
The girl Bea remembered from her high school days had evolved into the cool-eyed businesswoman who ran the Chapin banking empire with an iron fist. Bea found herself hesitating.
The letters Judy had shown her regarding the termination of Book & Cup’s lease bore Greer’s signature. Bea really, really didn’t want to see her old classmate, much less engage in a conversation with her.
Even as Bea’s feet itched to back out the door, she stepped farther into the shop. Her sister would be in Good Hope soon, and Bea knew the always-stylish Britt would have something to say about the hair she’d neglected for months.
Bea had never liked being primped over. Still didn’t.
The shop, while oh-so-cute, was also oh-so-small, so there was no way to back out without looking like a scared rabbit on the run. Bea raised her chin and smiled brightly.
“Greer. Marigold. Nice to see you both.”
The two women turned. A bright smile lit Marigold’s face, while Greer’s was more subdued. But still, Bea realized, friendly.
She hadn’t had much contact with the mayor of Good Hope since her engagement, but the woman somehow appeared more approachable. Perhaps Bea should encourage Judy to set up a meeting with Greer. Or had her mother taken back the banking reins when Greer was elected?
“What do you think?” Marigold gestured to Greer.
Bea blinked. “About?”
She flushed when the two women laughed.
“I think we lost her for a minute.” Greer’s comment, though not said unkindly, had Bea’s flush deepening.
“Greer’s hair.” Marigold gestured with one hand toward the brunette. “We’re trying out various hairstyles before the big day so she can decide which one she likes best.”
“Of course.” Bea chewed on her lower lip and studied Greer’s dark hair. “I wouldn’t guess this style to be wedding hair.”
Dear God, could she sound any more inane?
To her surprise, Greer chuckled. “You nailed it. That’s the look we were going for today.”
“Everyday hair?” Bea blurted.
Greer’s hand rose to the silky dark strands. “My dress is fairly fussy—for me, anyway—although I adore it.”
Greer glanced at Marigold.
“It’s an amazing dress,” Marigold assured her. “You look like a princess.”
“Anyway,” Greer continued, “because of the detail in the dress, I wanted to see if going more casual with the hair would—”
She paused as if searching for the right word or words to convey her thoughts.
“Balance out the fussiness of the dress?” Bea offered.
“Exactly.” The approving smile Greer bestowed on her warmed the chill that had set in when Bea spotted her.
“You still haven’t told us what you think,” Marigold prompted.
Bea studied Greer again. “Your hair always looks great. But if it were me, I’d want something a tad more sparkly for my wedding day. Some pearls or maybe some combs with crystals. Hair half up or half down. I’m not a magician with styles like Marigold is, but I think you need more than everyday hair for your special occasion.”
Marigold gave a decisive nod. “Well said.”
The pleasure that rippled through Bea at the words reminded her of when a teacher had singled her out over her science project. The classroom had been the only place Bea could best Britt.
“I believe pearls woven through my hair in a casual updo is my new favorite.” Greer offered Bea a warm smile even as she addressed the comment to Marigold. “For the exact reason Bea mentioned.”
“I loved that style.” Marigold stepped back and cocked her head. “Then again, I’ve loved all the styles we’ve tried. You have fabulous hair.”
With a familiarity only a relative—or a seasoned hairstylist—could get away with, Marigold ran her fingers through Greer’s dark hair. “Thick and lustrous.”
Then, as if recalling this wasn’t simply three women chatting, but one of them a waiting customer, Marigold shifted her attention from Greer’s hair to Bea’s.
“What are you thinking of doing today?” Marigold asked. “I have you down for a cut and color.”
“You’re getting your hair cut?” Greer’s eyes lit up. “Short?”
Before Bea could answer, Greer continued. “I always wished I could go short. But the shape of my face is too round.”
“Bea has the bone structure to go short.” Marigold studied the mousy-brown hair that hung in limp strands just past her shoulders. “Or to leave it long.”
“You’re so lucky.” Greer expelled a sigh. Then her watch pinged, and the sigh turned to a yelp. “Meeting in ten minutes. Have to dash.”
For just a second, Greer paused, her gaze returning to Marigold. “We’ll see you and Cade tonight?”
Beerfest and Brats was a big event in Good Hope. Though the tourists wouldn’t arrive en masse until after Memorial Day, a larger-than-normal crowd was expected for the festivities because of the nice weather the peninsula was enjoying.
“Wouldn’t miss it.” Marigold turned to Bea. “How about you?”
It was really more of a statement than a question, but Bea nodded.
“Well, Wyatt and I will see you both there.” Wiggling her fingers, Greer hurried from the shop.
“I don’t know how she gets everything done.” Fondness filled Marigold’s tone.
“She’s formidable.” That was the word that formed in Bea’s mind anytime she thought of Greer Chapin.
Marigold laughed, a pleasant sound, like the tinkling of bells. “She is indeed. Now what are we doing with your hair?”
Cut it off probably wouldn’t be the best thing to say to a stylist with itchy scissor fingers, but Bea was tired of having her hair hang in her face.
Because she was already feeling reckless, it made sense that she’d given Marigold the green light in terms of color. What had been her exact words? Ah, yes, whatever you think.
Bea watched as Marigold did just that. When the chair turned, Bea found herself staring in the mirror at a stranger. By the time Marigold had shown her how to properly dry her hair and given her some styling samples, Bea felt dazed, and reality hit.
For a second, Bea forgot how to breathe. Who was this gorgeous creature with the tousled hairstyle that suited her angular face and fell just above her shoulders and made her eyes look huge? The color, too, was different. No longer a boring brown, the strands were the color of deer hide, with varying shades of blond and brown.
“What do you think?” Marigold searched her face when Bea didn’t immediately respond. “I realize it’s different, but—”
“I look…” Bea swallowed against the lump forming in her throat. “Beautiful.”
“You’ve always been beautiful,” Marigold insisted.
Bea shook her head. “You’re thinking of Britt.”
“You’re identical twins.”
“I know, but she’s always been the pretty one.” Bea lifted her chin at Marigold’s assessing gaze. “She ran in your crowd. You and I were lab partners our sophomore year, but she was the one you hung out with, the one all the boys liked.”
“You weren’t into parties and bonfires on the beach back then.” For a second, Marigold’s eyes went distant with memories. “Otherwise, you’d have come, too.”
“It was a long time ago.” Bea dismissed those painful years with a flick of her wrist and returned her attention to the mirror. “You’re amazing, Marigold.”
“I love it, too.” A broad smile lifted Marigold’s red lips. “Sassy, just like you.”
“I d
on’t know about sassy, but,” Bea lifted a hand to touch one of the silky strands, “I love the color, and my hair is so soft.”
“That’s due to the conditioning treatment I put on after the color.” Marigold gestured to a cute sparkly bag that held a sample of products. “What I put on should last through at least ten washes, but I suggest you start using conditioner—”
Marigold had nearly reached the end of her instructions on how to keep Bea’s hair beautiful when the bells over the door jingled.
Marigold had mentioned she had back-to-back appointments all day long, and Bea realized she hadn’t been kidding.
Bea’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of the tall blond man who’d walked in.
“It’ll be just a minute,” Marigold told Clay. “I’m finishing up here.”
“That’s no problem. I’m a few minutes early, but—” His eyes widened when he spotted Bea. “Bea? Is that you?”
She laughed, feeling lighthearted and, well, sassy. Or, as sassy as she could manage. “Who else?”
“Wow. You look amazing.”
With one hand, Bea gestured in Marigold’s direction. “It’s easy to look good when you have a master magician in your corner.”
“It’s easy when you have someone with good hair and fabulous bone structure.” Marigold stroked Bea’s hair. “I love it.”
“It’s very flattering.” Clay paused, then hurriedly added, “Not that you didn’t look good before.”
Marigold swept off the cape, and Bea stood, feeling slightly unsteady with those gray eyes so firmly fixed on her.
Still, she managed to make casual conversation with both Clay and Marigold while she paid and dropped the sample bag in her purse.
Marigold lifted a hand. “See you at Beerfest and Brats.”
Clay’s eyes lit up. “See you then.”
As Bea walked out the door, she thought maybe she would attend the festivities tonight, after all.
Chapter Four
After his haircut, Clay headed straight to his mother’s house. The family meeting was to discuss the plans for the 300 block. It wouldn’t last long. Everyone in his family, especially Greer, had a lot going on. Not only was her wedding just around the corner, Beerfest and Brats was on tonight’s agenda.
