by Jill Sanders
He laughed. “Listen, you’re very attractive and I’m sure you had your usefulness when my father was alive, but there’s just no way I’m going to continue all this.” He motioned towards the building.
She was shocked. He was going to take it all away from her.
“I don’t know what kind of…arrangement you and my father had, but he’s gone now and you can expect that anything he was giving you won’t be coming from me.” He turned to go.
“I’m sorry?” she said to his back.
He turned and looked at her, then sighed and turned back. “If I was sticking around town, maybe I’d help you out, but I’m not. I’m heading over to the lawyer’s office right now and putting all this”—he motioned to the building—“on the market. So if I were you, I’d pack up what you can and get going, because if you’re still on my property by tonight, I’ll call the cops.”
She lost the last thread of her temper at that moment. “How dare you.” She took a step closer to him. “Your father was a great man, a man with a vision for this town, and in one day you plan to wipe out everything he’s worked hard for?”
He took a step closer to her. “You’ll want to be careful what you say to me.” His eyes bore into hers.
She took another step closer to him until they were almost nose-to-nose. Well, they would have been if he wasn’t a foot taller than her. She blinked back her anger before finally speaking.
“You’re heading over to Grant’s now?” she asked, throwing him off balance.
Grant normally worked out of his house, but since they had a daughter, he was in the office more and more. He claimed it was hard to take a business call when there was a kid screaming in the background, but everyone knew that Alex, his wife, had kicked him out so he would actually get some work done instead of playing with their daughter all the time.
When he finally nodded, she said, “Good, I’ll just walk over there with you.” She turned and started walking down the street.
He laughed and followed her. “Why? Do you really think that my father left you anything?”
“No, I know he didn’t.” She glanced over her shoulder at him.
“Then why tag along?” He kept in step with her easily, noticing that she marched a little faster when he was beside her.
“Because I know what he wanted, and I can only hope that he had the brains to put it all down on paper before he left us,” she said, a little breathless.
By the time they walked into Grant Holton’s office a few blocks away, she was completely out of breath. Her face was red from the heat and some of her hair had come loose from the braids.
When she marched back towards the office, Travis followed. Knocking on the door, she stepped in without waiting for an answer. Grant was on the phone and when he saw her, he nodded and smiled. When he saw Travis, he quickly apologized and hung up the phone.
“Travis?” He stood and held out his hand. “It’s good to have you back in town.”
Travis was completely floored. This was the man whom his mother had shot and tried to kill. He’d heard that Grant had married Alexis shortly after Travis had left Fairplay. Now the man was actually being nice, like none of it had ever happened.
“Grant.” He shook his hand and stood there, like he didn’t know what to say next.
There were pictures of Alex, Grant, and their children all over the office. Travis glanced at a few, but then turned his eyes towards the floor. It was too hard to see Alex in those pictures, happily holding a chubby baby.
“Travis and I would like to know what’s in his father’s will,” Holly said, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Now, Holly, we’ve been through this a dozen times. I can’t tell you what’s in Mr. Nolan’s will unless Travis here”—he nodded towards him—“says it’s okay.”
She glared at him until finally he nodded. “I’ll allow it, I suppose.” What harm could it cause? After all, there was no way his father had left anything to this woman.
“Fine. If you’ll take a seat, I’ll just pull it up.” Grant sat back behind his desk. “Did you just get into town?” he asked him.
Travis shook his head. “Last night,” he said, looking down at his fingernails, not wanting to make eye contact with the man.
“I hope your trip was good. We’re real sorry about your dad; he was a good man.”
Travis glanced up at Grant quickly. “Thanks,” he said and then looked back down at his fingers.
“Here it is,” Grant said, getting both of their attention. He skimmed over the computer screen then turned to them. “I’ll cut to the chase.” He looked up at him. “What it says in here is that the house and all the assets go to you, Travis…”
Travis smiled and glanced over at Holly.
“…After completion of any current projects.” Grant leaned back in his chair. “There are explicit orders that you oversee them until completion or you forfeit everything.”
“What?” he said, sitting forward. “What does that mean? What projects?”
“Well, your father started a few of them over the last few months. As I can see, you already know about the bookstore. He also started renovation work on the old theater, and on building a new park area just outside of town.” He glanced at the screen again.
“I don’t understand.” Travis stood up.
“Earlier this year, your father talked to me about wanting to put some of his money back into the town. He started a few smaller projects at first, like a fresh coat of paint on town hall, getting a few new park benches around town, and some new streetlights. Then Holly approached him about updating the bookstore and her apartment. I guess that started him thinking about some of the other projects he’d been putting off.”
“Can’t they just continue without me?”
Grant shook his head. “Your father made it clear that if you didn’t oversee the projects personally, they would stop completely.”
“Good, then stop them, I don’t care.” He turned to go.
“If they stop, you’ll be left with nothing. Everything your father owned will go to the town so we can finish the projects without you,” Grant said.
Travis stopped, his hand on the doorknob. He needed his inheritance if he was going to get out of the world he’d been in the last few years. He was getting tired and wanted to do something more with his life. He spun around and glared at the woman he thought was the cause of his father’s crazy scheme. “This was all your doing.”
Holly stood up and glared right back at him. “Don’t be silly.”
“Travis, Holly had nothing to do with this. There’s a note here.” He held out a sealed envelope. “From your father.”
“You mean I’m stuck in this town until all of his little projects are done?”
Grant nodded and handed him the note. “If you want your inheritance, you are. There is one more thing in here.” Grant looked down at Holly. “Holly stays in the apartment, rent-free, until the building is done. Once the building is completed, there are more instructions that I’m not at liberty to discuss until such time.”
Travis walked out of the building without another word. He stood on the sidewalk and ripped open his father’s note.
Son,
I know how hard the last few years have been on you. I wanted you to know that I’m proud of you. I’ve checked up on you and know that you’ve cleaned up your life. I couldn’t be more proud of you.
I’m asking you for a favor now. If you’re reading this, it means that I have left some unfinished business in town. These people deserve our thanks. They have been there for us in our time of need. You may not have seen it, but each and every person in this town is behind you.
I’ll ask this last thing from you. Please finish what I have started so the town and the wonderful people in it can heal.
I love you, son.
He was trapped. No matter what he did, he had a sinking feeling that there was no way he would ever leave Fairplay again.
·
Chapter Two
Holly walked up the stairs to the place she’d been calling home for the last few months and sighed when she saw Travis standing at the top. She didn’t want another fight right now. It had been a long day filled with troubling issues and she was very tired.
After their trip to Grant’s, she’d come back to find that the water leak had been a more major issue than they had thought. Now they were ripping out most of the drywall in the back storage room so all the plumbing could be checked and fixed. It was going to set them back a few days, if not more.
“What do you want?” she said, not even looking at him as she hoisted her groceries to her other hand so she could unlock the door.
“I need to get a few things out of my apartment,” he said, grabbing one of her bags before she dropped it.
“There’s nothing of yours left in here.” She unlocked the door and walked in.
“Where’s all my stuff then?” He followed her, looking around the clean space.
“The garage. Your father had it all moved down there.” She set the bags on the countertop. When he set the other bags next to hers, she stepped back.
He started to walk out, but she saw something in his eyes and stopped him.
“Travis?” He stopped at the doorway and looked back at her. “I’m really sorry about your father.” When he nodded, she continued. “His last thoughts were of you.”
He turned and took a step towards her. “You were with him?”
She nodded. “We were in the bookstore, checking out the construction.”
He frowned and looked down at his feet. It was the first emotion she’d ever seen on him other than anger.
“He had such wonderful plans for you, for the town.” She took another step towards him. “He’d talked a lot in his last few weeks about you coming home.”
He turned to go without another word.
“We weren’t lovers.” She knew he’d been thinking it since the first night. “Your parents were my godparents.” She waited for his response, but he just continued to walk out. “You’re going to have to talk to me sometime,” she called after him.
He stopped on the stairs and looked up at her. “I’ll stay to finish my father’s projects, and then I’m putting everything on the market and getting the hell out of this damn town.” He turned and continued walking down the stairs.
She didn’t know what forced her to follow. Maybe it was the lost look in his eyes when she’d talked about his dad. He’d disappeared into the dark garage through the side door and when she pulled open the door, the darkness was almost blinding. She stumbled a little and almost fell down the small step just inside the door. Strong arms grabbed her by the waist and held her steady.
“Thanks,” she mumbled, just before he pushed her back against the closed door of the garage.
“Why are you here?” It sounded like a growl.
Her heart skipped a beat. She’d always thought of him like a bear, even more so since he’d returned home. Now he was a caged one. She wondered why she’d willingly walked into a dark place, knowing he was in there.
“You know why.” She threw her chin up, daring him to challenge her again. She’d held her own last night, and he had the shiner to prove it.
He looked down at her in the darkness. She could see his dark eyes boring into her and something in her told her not to blink or look away.
Finally, he dropped his arms from her shoulders and stepped back. “Leave me alone.” He turned and flipped on the overhead lights, which popped on with a loud hum.
When he began looking through the pile of boxes against the back wall, she walked over and watched. “If you tell me what you’re looking for, maybe I can help.”
He turned and glared at her. “Go away.” He threw a box in the pile he’d already gone through.
She put her hands on her hips and frowned. Fine, if he didn’t want to be neighborly, that was okay with her. She turned to go, but then stopped to peek under the sheet that was covering an old car. Seeing what was underneath, she gasped and yanked at the cover.
“Leave that alone,” he barked and reached for the cover.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, tossing the car cover aside. “Why is it sitting in the garage, collecting dust?” She walked up and down the cherry red 1967 Mustang convertible. There were thick black stripes running down the front hood. As she walked around it, she trailed her finger along the glossy paint job. The interior was black leather and looked like it had recently been redone. The wheels were chrome and looked new. She bent and looked at a small dent in the fender and made a disapproving sound. “Too bad.” She shook her head.
“Where did that dent come from?” he said right behind her, causing her to jump a little. She looked over her shoulder.
“Is this yours?” She nodded towards the car.
“No.” He frowned.
“Your father’s?” she asked. When he shook his head no, she asked, “Your mother’s, then?” When he nodded this time, she understood. “Did your dad fix it up for her?”
He nodded. “We spent almost six years rebuilding it for her. It was a surprise for their twenty-fifth anniversary.” He walked around the car and sighed. “So many hours locked up in the garage downtown that he’d rented. Just the two of us.” She watched him walk around the car as he talked about his time with his father, his eyes sad and downcast. “When we finally pulled it into the driveway”—he closed his eyes—“it was the most exciting thing in the world.”
“Did your mother love it?” She smiled, looking at the car. “I know I would have.”
When he didn’t say anything, she turned and looked at him. He was staring at her with a frown on his face. Without saying a word, he grabbed up the cover and tossed it over the car. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “Are you always this sour?” He continued to frown at her until she threw up her hands in frustration and turned to go.
“You throw a pretty good punch for a girl,” he said at her back, causing her to spin around and nod at him. “Where’d you learn to do that?” he asked, leaning back against the covered car, crossing his arms over his chest like she’d just done. On him, the effect was quite different. His muscles stretched his white T-shirt taut, showing the ripples on his arms and chest rather nicely. She blinked a few times and tried to focus on his face, but when she looked at him, he had a smile on his lips, telling her that he knew exactly what the sight of him was doing to her.
“My father,” she finally got out.
His eyebrows shot up. “I thought your old man died a long time ago.”
She nodded. “When I was ten. But before he…” She looked down at her hands. “Before he died, he taught me how to fight. How to protect myself.”
“So it’s true? About him?”
She looked back into his dark brown eyes and saw something there she hadn’t before. He looked tired. Tired and curious.
“What?”
“That your old man was Samson,” he said, leaning closer to her. “The stuff boxing legends were made of.”
She laughed. “That’s old news. Haven’t you read my book?”
“Your book?” He tilted his head with a frown.
She nodded. “It came out earlier this year. Serving Life. It’s all about my father. His experience in the Navy and how he became Samson, the unbeatable boxer.” She smiled. “It goes on to tell about his struggles and why he chose to come back home to Fairplay and settle down, marrying my mother and having me.”
He leaned up. “You seriously wrote a book?” She nodded. “I guess I’ll have to check it out then.”
She looked at him as he stood in the dark garage. “If you tell me what it is you’re looking for, I can help find it.”
He glanced over at the large pile of boxes. “My guitar.”
She laughed harder than she had in days.
“What?” He smiled and took a step closer to her.
“I guess I wasn’t really thinking.” He started to frown and glanced at the box.
“What about that?” She pointed to the guitar case sitting above their head on a shelf.
He smiled and then chuckled. “You throw me off, I guess.” He pulled a box over, stood up on it, and grabbed the guitar from the shelf.
“I didn’t know you played.”
“I used to do a lot of things.” He shrugged his shoulders and set the case on the covered hood of the car and opened it. He pulled the guitar out and looked at it. It was an older model, but the wood still shined like new.
“It’s beautiful.”
He nodded and looked at her. “It was my grandfather’s.”
“Oh? Are you going to play again?”
He shook his head. “No, I’m going to sell it.” He set the guitar back in the case and shut it.
“Oh.” She frowned. How many times in the past had she thought about selling her father’s items? Times when she didn’t know if she would be able to pay rent, or times when she had a large unexpected bill. But she had stuck to her guns and held onto all of his things and eventually everything had worked out.
“If you’re hurting for money, I can…”
He turned on her and the look on his face said it all. Butt out. She stopped talking and took a step back.
“Sorry, I was just trying—”
“I know what you were doing. I don’t need your help.” He grabbed the case and walked out without another word.
He walked back into the house, and Holly couldn’t help but wonder what he was going through.
Travis set down the guitar case on the countertop and looked around the large kitchen. What was he going to do? He was stuck here with no access to his money until his father’s projects were done. Why was the old man punishing him? They had always gotten along great. He supposed it was because he had taken off after his mom was arrested.
