The lead of the pencil scratched against the pristine paper in the quiet of the room. A scene appeared in which the Ivy Springs Inn regained its glory. The window frames sported a fresh coat of white paint contrasting nicely against the aged brick. The gleaming windows looked in on a long, plain wooden table set with pewter dishes and carved bowls filled with fruits and vegetables, hot bread and mounds of fried chicken. The gardens burst to life with a riot of color and tidy rows of vegetables and herbs.
Farrin stopped and looked at the detail of the drawing. She flipped to another clean sheet and instead of drawing began listing ideas, even ones that would never fly in Oak Valley.
She looked up and stared at the handmade quilt on the guest bed. Dreaming had gotten her through many a tough time. But maybe that was what was truly at the heart of Oak Valley’s problems. Its residents had forgotten how to dream.
****
CHAPTER SEVEN
Farrin stood on the downtown sidewalk Monday morning wondering if she’d lost her mind. How often did someone go to see an attorney because of a dream?
She took a slow, deep breath before entering the door.
“Can I help you?” asked the secretary in the front office.
“Yes, I’d like to speak with Drew Murphy.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No, but if you’ll tell him Farrin Taylor is here, I’m sure he’ll be able to spare a few minutes.” If nothing else, curiosity might prompt him to squeeze her into his schedule.
The secretary buzzed Drew with her “I can’t believe people who just walk in without an appointment” voice. “Farrin Taylor is here to see you.”
Farrin almost smiled. Here sat the first person she’d encountered since returning to Oak Valley who wasn’t in awe of her. In a strange way, it was refreshing.
“Farrin, what a surprise,” Drew said as he emerged from a short hallway. “Come on back.”
The man should wear blue every single day. The cornflower shirt and navy silk tie made his dark eyes and hair even more attractive than normal.
“I’m sorry I don’t have an appointment.”
Drew waved away her concern as he sank into the leather chair behind his desk and motioned for her to have a seat opposite him. “You caught me on a slower morning. I don’t have court until 9:30.”
“Good.” Farrin looked around the room at the décor, a mixture of lawyerly things like degrees and golfing prints and more personal touches like a large framed photograph of Drew and his family, evidently on vacation. “Where are you in that photo?”
“Colonial Williamsburg. Our whole family went a couple of years ago.”
“Did you like it?”
“Will you be floored if I say yes?”
She looked back at him. “Is my surprise that transparent?”
“It’s not difficult to guess it’s hard to match up the guy I was fifteen years ago to who I am now.”
“That would apply to lots of people.”
“I suppose. So, what can I do for you this morning?”
Farrin didn’t reply immediately, once again wondering if her impulse made sense in any universe. Even if her grandparents had owned the inn, she was taking a huge gamble. “I’d like to buy the Ivy Springs Inn.”
“Really?”
“Yes. And I’m willing to pay more than the city offered. They can find somewhere else to put their parking lot.” And she could pray her business didn’t suffer any major setbacks.
Drew smiled. “You know that won’t make you popular with the city fathers.”
“I’m not terribly concerned about what they think.” She had lots of experience with being unpopular.
“I’ll need to make some calls and get back to you.”
“How long will that take?” She was afraid if it took too long, she’d back out. And afraid she wouldn’t.
He glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’ll move as quickly as I can.”
“Thank you.”
“No, thank you.”
She thought about his parting words as she headed back to Faye’s house. The sincerity had surprised her. If only he’d been that type of person all those years ago. But then, she wasn’t the same person either.
At Faye’s, she followed her nose to the kitchen. “That smells fabulous.”
Tammie looked up from the midst of her pots and pans. “Lasagna, garlic bread and pineapple cake for dessert. And where have you been this morning?”
Farrin leaned against the counter and crossed her arms. “Well, since someone is likely to call in five seconds to tell you anyway, I went to Drew Murphy’s office to make an offer on the Ivy Springs Inn.”
Tammie dropped the spoon with which she was stirring the cake mix back into the bowl. “You did what?”
“I know, I may have lost my mind. But I couldn’t let them bulldoze it down. It’s the only link to my family I have left. If they destroy it, it’s like saying the Swensons never existed.”
“What are you going to do with it?”
“Apply to have it put on the National Register, then find an appropriate buyer. Someone who will take care of the property and the building.”
“You could always keep it.”
“And do what with it?”
“You were the one who told the council that it had lots of possibilities — shops, offices, a restaurant.”
“And the new owner can do those things. I don’t have the time, and you know how I am. I’m very hands-on, and it’s hard to be hands-on here if I’m in New York.”
Tammie went back to mixing the cake. “Just an idea. Something new there might actually get the community excited and hopeful again.”
“Possibly, but someone else will have to do it. I’m not the prodigal daughter come home to save the day.”
“I know. Listen, I thought maybe we could go hiking tomorrow morning. Think the Cane Ridge Trail is still as pretty this time of year as it used to be?”
“Guess we won’t know until we get there.”
Tammie smiled. “Well, that was the easiest you’ve agreed to anything since you’ve been here.”
“You know I like hiking. And I haven’t been able to go in a very long time.”
“Well then, you better get a lot of work done today because tomorrow I’m kidnapping you for the entire day. And if you even talk about work, I’m going to push you off a cliff.”
Farrin saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”
“That’s more like it.”
For the next couple of hours, Farrin sat on the front porch in the warm October sunshine, returning phone calls and sketching dresses. When she finished a short, satin, lime green dress for Trina Sanchez, she fanned out the paper in front of her.
“You just keep getting better and better,” Tammie said as she stepped out onto the porch and eyed the designs.
“It’s hard to admit, but I haven’t been this productive in months. I thought Cara Hutton’s dress was going to do me in.”
“Designer’s version of writer’s block?”
“Yeah. I felt like my brain was going to crack, and that would be the end of my career. And I’m not in the clear yet because the design has to be approved. If they don’t like it . . . ”
“Then you’ll come up with something even more beautiful. The atmosphere here seems to be freeing you up, so you’ll be okay.”
Farrin looked up at Tammie and smiled. “Still holding my hand, huh?”
“You don’t need me to hold your hand anymore.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For holding it when I did need it. For being my best friend, even when it wasn’t easy.”
“Geez, you’re going to embarrass me.”
“That I doubt. I don’t think Tammie Donovan gets embarrassed.”
“You didn’t see me when the girls decided the produce section of Kroger was the ideal place to run the fifty-yard dash and sent grapefruit rolling in all directions.”
Farrin laughed. �
��I’d have paid good money to see your face.”
Tammie narrowed her eyes. “May you have half a dozen just like them.”
“That’s highly unlikely.”
“I’ll remind you of that when you’re elbow deep in diapers.”
Farrin looked down at her sketches. Designs for wedding dresses and evening gowns were probably all she’d ever give birth to.
****
As Farrin walked into the Merchants Bank after lunch, she met Mayor Randolph. His eyes widened slightly, then narrowed when he saw her. “We underestimated your objection, young lady. No wonder you’ve been such a successful businesswoman. I do hope you have some plans for that building soon. Planning and zoning is concerned about its stability.”
It wasn’t so much what he said, but the layer of threat underneath that bothered Farrin. She didn’t like the insinuation, particularly since the building was nowhere near as decrepit as the city seemed to want everyone to believe. “You needn’t worry about the building anymore.”
The mayor nodded, looking at her as if sizing up an opponent, then headed for the door. Maybe the old guy didn’t like getting bested by a woman. Or someone he considered an outsider or beneath him. Tough.
Farrin scanned the line of four tellers, but the only one she recognized was Janie. And Janie, as luck would have it, was the only one without a customer. With little choice, she walked up to the service counter.
“I need to arrange for a wire transfer.”
“Okay.” Janie pulled out some forms and slipped them onto the counter in front of Farrin. “I’ll need you to—”
The large form of Janie’s father moved into the cubicle behind Janie. “I’ll take those.” He nearly stepped on Janie as he swept the forms from the counter.
“I can do it,” Janie said, her eyes not meeting her father’s.
“This is a very important customer. We want her to have the best service possible.” Mr. Carlisle’s voice was filled with barely veiled condescension, not of Farrin but of his own daughter.
Farrin caught the pitying glance of the teller to her left. What was going on here?
“Ms. Taylor, if you’ll come to my office, I’ll be glad to help you.”
If there was one thing in the world Farrin hated, it was hypocrites. And it looked as if Janie’s father was as much of one as her mother. All one big happy family of social climbers. Farrin looked at Janie, whose face reflected embarrassment and hurt. So maybe they weren’t one big happy family anymore.
“That’s not necessary. It’s only a wire transfer.”
“What is the size of the transfer?”
Farrin named the down payment figure.
“Our tellers are not authorized to handle transfers of that size. But I’ll be happy to process this quickly.”
Without even a glance at his only child, Fred Carlisle strode toward his office, forcing Farrin to follow if she wanted to complete the paperwork for the inn purchase today. Before she followed, she glanced at Janie again. She looked as if she’d shrunk. Farrin knew that feeling. She would have bet her entire net worth on the fact that she would never have felt sorry for Janie Carlisle, but she’d have walked away broke.
Farrin followed Mr. Carlisle’s bulk into his corner office. She compared it to Drew’s more modest one. Cold and impersonal décor from the “Bank President” collection — bronze paperweight, a cherry bookcase lined with books that looked as if they’d never been opened, a framed letter from the president of the country. The only personal touch was a solitary photo of himself and Mrs. Carlisle on what looked like a cruise ship. Not a single picture of Janie or her children. How odd for a grandfather not to display endless photos of his grandchildren.
“I hear you’re purchasing the Ivy Springs Inn,” Mr. Carlisle said as he sank into his huge leather chair that probably cost more than her mother had made in a month as a school cook.
It might be petty, but it gave Farrin great satisfaction to know her own office was more stylish and yet less pretentious.
“Yes.”
“What are you planning to do with it?”
“I’m still working on the plans.”
“Should you need financing for any improvements, I’ll be glad to help you.”
Farrin nearly laughed in his face. “I’ll keep that in mind.” For all of two seconds. She didn’t like to conduct business with people who treated their own family members as he had Janie. It didn’t matter that Farrin had imagined all kinds of ways to get revenge on Janie Carlisle. She wasn’t related to her.
Mr. Carlisle tried to pry more information out of her. How long was she staying in town? Was she planning to have a second home in Oak Valley? Did she need other financial services? She responded with only minimal replies that revealed nothing. She’d come to Merchants Bank out of habit because it was always where her mother had gone. She should have gone to the Valley Bank directly across the street. For as long as she could remember, the only two banks in town had sat across from each other, positioned like dueling men. And she’d been inside the Valley Bank maybe once.
“That should do it,” Mr. Carlisle said as he completed the necessary paperwork for the transaction. “Can I do anything else for you?”
“Yes, you can answer a question.”
“Okay.”
“Why do you not trust your tellers with a basic wire transaction?”
He sputtered, surprised by her question. The town bigwig wasn’t used to being challenged. “We like to give extra attention to our special customers.”
“By that you mean customers with lots of money?”
Mr. Carlisle’s face tightened at the edges.
“You don’t have to answer that. I get the picture. The people who have been coming here for years, bringing in their small or modest business, don’t warrant ‘special attention’ from the bank president, but big dollar signs do.”
He leaned back in his chair. “You’re a wealthy woman. I assume you know how the business world works.”
“Yes, I do. But I didn’t get ahead by humiliating my employees in public.” She rose. “I have never been a big fan of your daughter’s, but she didn’t deserve that condescending tone you used with her . . . and certainly not in front of her co-workers. Just so you know, if I need further financial assistance, I’ll be taking my requests to Valley Bank.” Without waiting for his response, Farrin strode from the corner office and through the lobby. For someone who wanted to visit Oak Valley quickly and quietly, it sure did feel good to rattle the establishment and shock a few old cronies. She smiled as she walked out the door and turned toward Drew’s office.
****
After completing an hour’s worth of paperwork in Drew’s office, Farrin went straight to the inn to explore her new acquisition. Outside, she stared at the two stories of brick, the single stone step that descended from the front door onto the sidewalk, and the distinctive, unadorned, porchless façade of its Federal style. She walked inside and let her hand run along the old check-in counter. For a moment she thought she could hear Grandpa Ernie’s laugh, and her heart ached that he wasn’t there to capture her in a bear hug. She wandered from room to room, admiring the craftsmanship of the simple, wooden furniture and letting her imagination create scenarios for the building. She still couldn’t believe she owned it — or that she’d voluntarily created a concrete tie to Oak Valley, even if it was only until she could find a suitable owner.
The sound of footsteps in the entryway brought her out of the large dining room. Janie Carlisle stood in the middle of the hall staring up the stairs.
“I hope your father didn’t send you over here.”
Janie looked at Farrin. “My father doesn’t know where I am.” She took a few steps forward. “It seems that I owe you another thanks.”
“For what?”
“Standing up for me with my father. You have more backbone than I do.”
Farrin almost wished the Janie Carlisle she’d known in high school would reappear. She’d been p
repared to deal with that person, not the broken version of that girl.
“No one has ever stood up for me that way,” Janie said.
“You should stand up for yourself.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Why not?”
“You’ve met my parents. They’re . . . intimidating.”
“Your parents are hypocrites.” Farrin said. “There was a time when they considered me not fit to walk into their businesses, and now they’re falling all over themselves to be associated with me. I don’t forget that easily.”
Janie’s face reddened. It was the most color Farrin had seen in her cheeks since she’d been back in town. Janie moved to the bottom of the stairs and wrapped her hand around the newel post. Farrin wasn’t sure if it was to admire the historic staircase or because Janie needed the support to keep her upright.
“I’m glad you bought this place,” Janie said. “My little girl loves to dream up stories about the people who’ve stayed here. She’s a huge history buff, and she already knows more than I do about the history of Oak Valley. Who would have thought I would have bookish kids?”
“You did well in school.”
“Because there was no other option. Fred and Jewel Carlisle’s daughter had to be perfect at everything. I didn’t enjoy school. I enjoyed parts of college, but it was mainly because I was away from home. I got a business degree because that’s what was expected of me.”
“But it wasn’t what you wanted.”
Janie nodded.
“What did you want to study?”
Janie shrugged. “I didn’t know, but I didn’t have the luxury of going in undeclared and finding out.”
“You’re not over the hill. Go back now. Your kids are old enough to do a lot on their own while you study.”
Janie’s lips twisted into a bittersweet smile. “College money doesn’t grow on trees.”
“No, but your father is a banker. He can help you out.”
“I don’t think so considering he just fired me.”
Surprise smacked into Farrin. “Fired you? Because of what I said to him?” She never would have imagined Mr. Carlisle could be that cold or vindictive.
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