by Gemma Hart
And yet, Kat couldn’t help but smile at him. Even still, he managed to always joke around with her. He always offered to help at the diner even though Kat and Malcolm would soundly refuse him.
Kat looked up at the IV bag as the clear liquid dripped slowly down. Hopefully it was just a cold that Dillon had caught and it could be treated quickly.
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow, bright and early,” Kat promised, quietly assuring him that he would only be stuck here for one night. She knew that no matter how brave Dillon liked to act, he had grown a true fear and phobia of staying overnight at the hospital.
When Kat looked back over at her brother, she caught him staring intently at her, his clear blue eyes steady and focused.
“Any more news about the buyers?” he asked quietly.
Despite herself, Kat felt her shoulders stiffen and her jaw tighten. She forced a smile though. “Don’t worry about that,” she said in a false cheery voice that she knew her brother could sniff out from a mile away. “That’s not important right now.”
Dillon’s lips pursed together as he debated whether to argue with his sister or not. Instead he said, “I heard Hoyt’s was getting remodeled.”
Kat shook her head. “Not just Hoyt’s. The bank got a complete makeover. And the front walk and steps of the library and park was just recently repaved.”
Dillon’s brow furrowed, hearing the news. “Don’t you think those are the buyers trying to pretty up the parts of the town they might want to keep?”
“I don’t know,” Kat said with an honest sigh. “At the last town meeting, it was made pretty clear that the reason why the buyers were giving everyone a lump sum was because they wanted to raze the town and build their own resort condos. They wanted it to be modern and new.”
Kat tried not to feel too sour at those words even though it essentially meant Peytonville was old and outdated. She didn’t understand why these New York buyers wouldn’t just fund to redo the entire town and make it into a unique tourist destination.
At least then, the whole town could stay where they are. There was so much beauty and history in Peytonville.
But it wasn’t her place to understand crazy.
Dillon leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. “That’s weird then, isn’t it?” he said. “Where would that kind of money come from? Have you talked with Hoyt?”
Kat opened her mouth to say that she hadn’t yet but was planning to grill the grocer as soon as she could when a tinny melody began singing from her purse.
She reached in and pulled out her cellphone. The screen read, “Bank/Mr. Rilkes.”
God, what now?
Smiling, she stood and said, “I’ll be right back. I think Janelle might’ve dropped a pie or two.”
Dillon’s eyes drooped a little as he nodded. He was exhausted from talking anyway and needed a rest.
Kat quickly stepped out into the hallway and answered the phone. “Hello?”
“Hello, Miss Ryans,” Mr. Rilkes greeted warmly.
Hmmm, she thought, that doesn’t sound like the voice someone would use to tell me I’d just lost my livelihood and everything that mattered.
Maybe it wasn’t bad news?
“Is anything wrong?” Kat blurted, still unable to help herself from panicking a little whenever she got a call from the bank.
“No, not at all,” Mr. Rilkes said. “I actually have some good news.”
Kat felt her heart catch in her throat. Could a miracle finally have come through for her? Had the price perhaps dropped on the property of her diner? Could she possibly somehow afford to purchase it now?
“The buyers from New York have dropped out,” Mr. Rilkes announced, clearly happy as well with the news.
Kat nearly dropped the phone. It was as if someone had finally taken pity on her and had opened up the heavens to allow a little bit of sunshine and luck to fall on her. “Really?” she breathed. “They’re gone? Really?”
Mr. Rilkes chuckled at the disbelief in her voice. “Yes, they’ve been outbid,” he said.
The sunshine and warmth she had been feeling suddenly cooled. A creeping chill of wariness tingled down her spine. “Outbid?” she echoed.
“Yes,” Mr. Rilkes said. She could hear a ruffling of papers on his desk as he looked up information. “They’ve been outbid by Brothers Construction and the—”
“Wait,” Kat interrupted, feeling her world swimming. “You’re telling me my property—Doughy Pops’ land—has already been bought?”
“Not just Doughy Pops’ grounds but nearly half of Peytonville. Even our bank has been—”
“But I wasn’t consulted! I wasn’t even offered a chance to counterbid!” Kat cried out, feeling everything fall away from her. Doughy Pop’s, the last remaining connection she had to her beloved Uncle Do, was now about to be torn away from her.
“Miss Ryans,” Mr. Rilkes said, his voice soft but serious, “only owners get consulted. All the current property holders of Peytonville were given a bid and they approved it. They rejected the New York buyers in favor of the new bidders.”
He said the last words as if they should be comforting. But who could care less where the buyers were from if in the end it meant Kat had no Doughy Pop’s!
“But I thought,” she started. Tears stung her eyes. “I thought….”
Mr. Rilkes seemed to sense her distraught nature over the phone. “Miss Ryans,” he said gently. “Why don't you come down to the bank? I can explain this better in person than on the phone.”
Kat nodded numbly. Then remembering she was on the phone, she replied, “Fine. I can be there in an hour.”
Hanging up, she wondered just exactly what she was supposed to do now. She had one brother who had given up his college education to help her maintain their business. She had another brother who was currently in the hospital, too sick to stand on his own.
Kat quickly looked in on Dillon. He was sleeping quite peacefully as a nurse checked on his IV. Kat made eye contact with the nurse, who nodded and smiled, assuring her that Dillon was in good hands for the night. Kat nodded and rushed down the hallway.
Hot tears fell slowly. She had lost her parents. She had lost her Uncle Do. But goddamn it if she would lose her brothers and Doughy Pop’s.
Not on her watch!
Chapter Nine
But a lot of her bravado was lost when just ten miles shy of downtown, her car decided to give her one last shameful jab to her pride.
The engine smoked and sputtered as the car slowly came to a crawl before dying.
Kat pulled safely to the shoulder of the road as she looked at the old clunker with a mixture of pride for how long it had run and a simultaneous frustration at its very inopportune death.
Could she possibly call Ernie from Bald and Tired to come out? It was in the middle of the day and she knew he had had to let go of his only employee about six months ago. If anyone was going to come out to get her and her car, it would have to be Ernie. And she hated the idea of pulling him away from his shop midday.
Had she recently stepped on too many cracks? Crossed too many black cats? Sneezed accidently on a crucifix?
What was with her horrible string of luck and pain? Was it not enough that she had lost so many people she loved? Was it not enough that she had grown up by sacrificing her childhood and any carefree years?
Did fate really have to take her lemony clunker of a car as well?!
As Kat leaned against her hood, trying to debate what to do, a truck rolled in from the distance. Kat squinted, trying to see if she recognized the driver. Maybe he could give her ride into town.
The truck slowed as it neared her car. And as it neared, Kat could make out the driver through the windshield.
That squared and rugged jaw. Those piercing clear eyes. That brush of dark hair. Those broad and muscled shoulders.
“God,” Kat muttered as Jason slowed his truck down. I am so sneezing on a crucifix now. If she’s going to be rained down with bad luck, she might as
well do something to deserve it. She raised her eyes upwards. “Out of spite now,” she added under her breath.
“Car trouble, eh?” Jason called out from his truck.
“Nope,” Kat said, her arms crossed casually. “Just enjoying the day before heading back to work.”
Jason quirked an eyebrow. “Funny place to do that,” he said, looking down the empty road.
“Well I happen to like funny places,” Kat said. She wondered how she could shoo him off quickly. The last thing her heart needed was another encounter with Jason Daniels. Not now.
“Well, I hate to break it to you,” Jason said, leaning a well muscled forearm against his open window, “but I think your car might not be enjoying the day as much as you. How about I give you a ride back to town so you can enjoy the day in a less deserted piece of road?”
Kat looked over her shoulder at the hood that was still smoking. She sighed. So much for giving him the push off.
But there was no way she was getting in that car. Even just looking at him, she could feel her heart fluttering in an odd mix of panic and pleasure. She hated to admit it but she did love seeing him again. He brought out a sensitive and fluttery side of her that she rarely ever felt.
Kat cleared her throat. But she hadn’t forgotten the stack of letters that sat in her vanity drawer. She hadn’t forgotten the pain of his silence.
She gave him a quick smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I think I’d rather walk,” she said.
Jason pursed his lips. “You’re a good ten miles away,” he said.
“I have strong legs,” she replied.
She expected him to argue or to make some kind of inflammatory remark about her legs. She could clearly see his dark gaze appreciating the aforementioned limbs.
But instead he shrugged and said, “Alright then.” He then drove off.
Kat’s jaw almost dropped in indignant shock. He would really just leave her?
She then shook her head and laughed at herself. Don’t be such a girl, she chastised. You wanted him to leave, so he left. Now just get marching before it gets dark!
Kat grabbed her purse out of the busted car and headed down the solitary road. But she quickly noticed that this would not be an easy walk.
Jason’s truck looked to be going a whopping speed of two miles per hour. She could literally outwalk the truck.
If he would let her.
Every time she tried to walk around the truck, he would gently swerve the truck to the side. When she went to the right, so did the truck. When she went to the left, so did the truck, completely disregarding traffic laws.
Kat looked up and down the road, hoping another car would come, forcing Jason to stop hogging the middle of the road. But this was a small road off the main interstate. Not very many cars passed through.
“You know, you’re supposed to only drive on one side of the road,” Kat called out. “Traffic laws. They exist.”
“That a fact?” Jason called back leisurely, keeping an eye on her through the rearview mirror.
“Yes, it is,” Kat said, trying to pass again on the left before she was blocked by his truck.
“Well, I could drive better if you got in and coached me on all these ‘traffic laws’ you speak of,” he said, a smile clear as day in his voice.
“That’s okay,” she replied casually. “Nothing teaches you better than your first accident.”
Even though she was behind his truck, she could’ve sworn she saw him grin through the mirror.
“Isn’t there a mechanic in that town of yours? Fat and Bald, I think?” Jason said. “Why didn’t you call him to pick up your car?”
“Bald and Tired!” Kat corrected. Although Ernie was quite sizeable around the middle. “And I didn’t call because Ernie’s probably busy at the shop. He has to run it himself and I didn’t want to take him away from his work just to pick me up.”
There was a beat.
“What about that feisty cook at Doughy Pops?” Jason asked. “Your brother could’ve come.”
“The diner needs food and Malcolm makes the food,” Kat answered. “I don’t want the diner abandoned for me.”
Another beat.
“So a half empty diner and a completely empty mechanics shop are more important than you?” Jason asked, his voice solemn but soft.
Kat nearly stopped in her steps, surprised at his words.
“No,” she nearly stuttered. “Their livelihood and pride is more important than me.” She walked slowly behind the truck. “Ernie built that shop from the ground up. He has fixed nearly every single car in Peytonville and supported a family of five with that shop. Right now, times are hard and if there’s even a sliver of a chance at some business for him, I’m not going to mess that up.”
“Aren’t you business? He could fix that car,” Jason said.
“There’s no fixing that car,” Kat said with grim finality. “And all Ernie would’ve gotten from picking me up is missed time from his shop.”
“Your brother could’ve come,” Jason insisted.
“Doughy Pop’s needs him more,” Kat insisted.
Suddenly Jason’s truck sped up before turning sharply so that the truck lay perpendicular to the road, completely blocking it.
Kat froze at the sudden move before taking a deep breath and walking forward. What was the man thinking, blocking an entire road like that?
When she was a foot away from the passenger window, Jason looked at her, pinning her frozen with his piercing gaze.
“We are exactly fifteen minutes away from the diner by car,” Jason said slowly, his eyes never leaving her face. “Fifteen minutes to get in the car, find you, and bring you back to town. Ernie or Malcolm will easily spend more than fifteen minutes out of their entire day drinking coffee or taking a breather or chewing the shit with someone. But according to you, those fifteen minutes are okay to spend doing all of those things but they are too precious to spend on you.” He paused. “You aren’t worth fifteen minutes?”
Kat paused. Her whole body was frozen from head to toe. Not even a stray hair moved. The only thing that pulsed within her was her heart. Its beat quickened and warmed at his words.
With his unbreakable gaze still holding her, she felt as if he was seeing into her completely. Though he joked and acted flippantly, mentioning her letters casually or ignoring Fayetteville completely, he was constantly watching her. He never seemed to miss anything she did or said.
She had a strong sense that all those perfected false smiles and cheery laughs would never fool him. He would see through that.
He would see her.
“Get in the truck,” Jason finally said gently. “You can have my fifteen minutes any day of the week.”
Chapter Ten
“Alright, here it is,” Mr. Rilkes said as he pulled out a stack of papers. He laid them facing Kat. With a pen he pointed at the fine print.
“As you can see here, the original property holders have sold to Brothers Construction and also the Carolina Society,” he said, sweeping the pen across the papers to point out the important names.
Carolina Society? Who was that?
Kat shook her head. “I don’t understand how a town can’t even own the land it sits on,” she muttered.
Mr. Rilkes shrugged. “Well that’s beyond either of our comprehension, Miss Ryans. Peytonville has had an interesting history and somehow it’s ended up where it has. All we can do is deal with its present situation.”
Kat carefully read over the paperwork. “‘…purchase of the lands surrounding property in question,’” Kat read aloud. She looked up in surprise. “So the buyers have bought the land around Doughy’s as well?”
Mr. Rilkes nodded in surprise. “Haven’t you noticed all the new construction going on?” he asked. He waved towards the front of the bank where the shiny new ATM machines stood. “Even in here?”
Kat nodded in confusion, wondering what that had to do with Brothers Construction or the Carolina Society.
&nb
sp; “Well, that’s all them,” Mr. Rilkes said. “Brothers Construction has bought up nearly the entire town.”
Kat’s brow nearly hit her hairline in shock. “So Hoyt’s, the library, the bank, that’s all them?” she asked, her voice going up an octave or two in surprise.
Mr. Rilkes nodded. But unlike Kat, he didn’t seem particularly displeased by this new development. In fact, he seemed quite happy with Brothers Construction.
“These new buyers seem perfectly content in allowing Peytonville to operate just as it always had,” Mr. Rilkes said. “It really seems like a miracle, to be honest.”
