by Jen Gilroy
Seth turned his back on the window and the two pairs of curious eyes boring into him. “I’m sorry. I’m not usually so . . . abrupt.” He swallowed as the words stuck in his throat. “Jake’s death hit me out of nowhere. I hadn’t thought of him in years, and then, all of a sudden, I got a phone call from some lawyer in a place I’d never heard of who told me I’m the sole beneficiary of Jake’s estate. If I’d known he was sick, I’d have come to see him. I should have been here for the funeral. It was only last week.”
“Jake left instructions about that, too.” Annie’s gentle voice was like a healing balm to his soul. “He didn’t want you here then. He wanted you to remember him as he was when you were a kid, not the sick old man he was at the end. He told Karl to not contact you until after the funeral. We had to wait a few weeks until the ground thawed enough for burial.” Her voice hitched and she half turned away from him.
Seth glanced at Dolly huddled against the bakery wall. Her eyes were two brown pools of sadness and her small body quivered. He scooped her up and tucked her into the crook of his arm. “I care about what Jake wanted, but I’ve got commitments and responsibilities.” Most of which were either broken or tenuous. “How can I stay here for six months?”
“I don’t know, but, at the end of the day, family is all you have.” Her expression was wistful and her tone implied she didn’t like him a whole lot right now.
“Sure, but . . .” Seth’s heart punched his ribs. Apart from Dylan, he didn’t have any family to speak of.
“My dad died when I was twelve, and when Jake turned up here, he filled a big gap in all our lives.” Annie blinked and her voice was halting. “He didn’t replace my dad. Nobody could ever do that. But he helped my mom with fixing things around the bakery, and he was there for my sisters and brother and me if we needed him. We didn’t know he had a family of his own, but he did. You.”
“I’m sorry about your dad. I . . .” Seth’s throat got raw. There were parts of himself he didn’t like a whole lot either, but in the last few weeks he’d vowed to hit refresh on his life. Could he do that here? At least for a little while? Maybe running the station could work to his advantage. A family inheritance would be a good reason to stay away from LA, and six months would be more than enough time for him to clear his head and launch back into work with a great game plan. And Irish Falls was in the same time zone as New York City so it might be harder for his son to push him away when Seth tried to reconnect.
The silence lengthened between them as he studied the street, charming even in the rain. Storybook storefronts like Quinn’s Bakery marched up the hill toward a water tower with “Irish Falls” painted on it in green letters surrounded by shamrocks. Halfway up, a pocket-sized square had a white-painted bandstand at its center and beyond it, children’s voices echoed from a schoolyard, with yellow buses clustered out front like a convoy of covered wagons.
“Dad passed a long time ago. My mom remarried nine years ago, and my stepdad’s been great for her and all of us,” Annie said, her shoes hitting the flagstones in a quick staccato as she moved to the bakery door.
“But your dad’s still important to you.”
Annie stopped by the door and her shoulders slumped. “Of course he is. He always will be. My dad was my hero and . . .” Her mouth worked and she stared at the sidewalk.
Seth’s stomach lurched. How would his life have been different if he’d known his dad, or if his mom hadn’t passed so young? “I need to think about all this. I’m not making any promises, but you’re right, Jake was my uncle and I owe him.” For his mom’s memory and for how Jake brought fun and laughter into both their lives. “I want to go through the station’s books, take another look at the studio and equipment, and talk more with you and the staff.”
“Sure. That’s great.” Annie’s tone was flat, her lips got tight, and then she fumbled with the rolling pin door handle.
Seth took a step back. His initial impression was wrong. It wasn’t dislike of him he’d heard in Annie’s voice earlier. It was something more akin to distrust or even fear.
Chapter 3
Maureen McNeill, who still sometimes thought of herself as Maureen Quinn, came into the front of the bakery from the kitchen. Tara sat behind the counter making notes in the order book and tapped her foot in time to Hannah’s favorite Taylor Swift song on the radio. “I thought I heard Annie’s voice out here.”
“You did.” Her daughter looked up. “She’s in the office.” Tara lowered her voice. “With Jake’s nephew, Seth Taggart.” Tara glanced at the hall door as if Seth lurked outside it.
Maureen rested both hands on her cane. Her son and daughters ran the bakery as well as she had, but she missed being a real part of the business. “Was Rowan here, too?” She stared out the window onto Malone Street, where tendrils of mist hung low and mellow light from the Victorian-inspired lamps illuminated the slick pavement. A few hardy pedestrians scurried between stores half-hidden under umbrellas.
“She only dropped in for a few minutes to pick up cupcakes for the PTA meeting.” Tara’s laugh was forced. “You know how busy she is with her kids, work, and well . . . everything.”
Maureen bit back a sigh. Like Tara’s sadness, and Annie’s too brittle cheerfulness, Rowan’s almost frenetic busyness worried her. “It’s quiet this afternoon.”
“Would you want to be out in this weather?” Tara’s mouth curved into a soft smile.
“As your Nana Gerry would have said, April showers bring May flowers.” Maureen chuckled. “Despite the weather, I like this time of year. Every other season, we have to share Irish Falls with tourists, but for these few weeks, it’s all ours. Not that I mind the tourists. They’re good for the town and help keep us in business. But I cherish these weeks between ski season and Memorial Day, when we’re watching spring come. And when there aren’t any strangers in town so I know everyone.”
Except this year. Maureen bit her lip. “There’s something about Seth that’s got Annie upset. She won’t talk to me. Has she said anything to you?” The fact Annie had avoided talking about Jake’s nephew told Maureen something was up.
“No, she won’t talk to Rowan or me, either.” Tara’s tone was protective.
Maureen found a pair of tongs and reached into the bakery case. “It was Hannah who told me he showed up early.” She took out two thick slices of apple cake and popped them into a paper bag.
“Here, I’ll help you.” Tara reached for the bag, but Maureen waved her away.
“I’ve got it.” Her daughter meant well, but couldn’t she understand how it hurt to be helped? How it hurt when people asked about her hip, as if the pins and plate holding the fractured bone together had fundamentally changed who she was? She opened the door to the hallway with her good hip and followed the low murmur of voices to the small bakery office.
The voices stopped as Maureen rounded the corner. Annie sat behind the cluttered desk, and a man, who must be Seth Taggart, was in the armchair across from her. Dolly was curled up on his lap, wrapped in a pink bath towel. In one corner, a heater fan whirred and pushed out warm air to mix with the smell of wet dog.
“Mom.” Annie jumped up.
Seth got to his feet too, but kept hold of Dolly. “Please take my seat, ma’am.”
Maureen shook her head. Someone had taught him manners, but that respectful ma’am made her feel even older than she already did. “I’m not staying.” Tension crackled in the small room. “I only came by to introduce myself. I’m Annie’s mom, Maureen McNeill.”
Seth set Dolly on the floor and took the hand she held out. “My pleasure to meet you.” His handshake was warm and firm, and he had a look of Jake about him. The same dark brown hair, defined cheekbones, and deep-set eyes that had women falling at his feet when Jake turned up in Irish Falls more than twenty years earlier. “The attorney told me what you did for my
uncle when he was sick. I surely appreciate it.”
“Jake was like family to us.” Maureen looked him up and down. “That makes you as good as family, too.”
“Mom, you—” Annie’s voice held a warning note.
“What?” Maureen pinned her daughter’s gaze. “I raised you to be neighborly, didn’t I?” She turned back to Seth. “I brought some of my apple cake for you to have with your supper. Jake was real fond of this cake. He said it reminded him of one his mother made.”
She held out the bag, and Seth took it.
“Thank you.” A smile started at his mouth and reached deep into his magnetic blue-gray eyes.
Despite her sixty-five years, Maureen caught her breath. She glanced at Annie. Her daughter’s hair tumbled around her flushed face, and she stared out the office window at the steady rain, away from Seth. “Jake’s radio station is the heartbeat of Irish Falls. I heard you do something in the music business. Will you be taking on Jake’s legacy? We all miss hearing him on the morning show.”
“I . . .” Seth flicked a glance at Annie, who continued to avoid his gaze. “I’m a songwriter, not a radio announcer or station manager.”
“You look like a smart man, so I bet you could pick things up real fast. That station isn’t the same without Jake. When he got too sick to work, he and Annie had to hire someone to fill in. Maybe you heard Steve? He’s also doing Jake’s show. He’s got a voice like a cat with its tail caught in a door. Not the kind of voice you want to wake up to, whereas you—”
“Seth hasn’t made any final decisions yet.” Annie broke in, moved around the desk, and took Maureen’s arm. “He only got here yesterday. He hasn’t even seen the station properly or met all the staff.”
Maureen shook Annie’s hand away. She wasn’t so old or infirm she needed to be held up, and she wasn’t about to let any of her kids boss her around, either. “That station was Jake’s life. He’d be mighty proud to have his nephew take it over.”
“Mrs. McNeill.” Seth smiled at her again, and this time there was an edge of steel behind the charm.
“Maureen, please.” That smile told her he had backbone. She liked backbone.
“Maureen.” His smile slipped. “Like Annie said, I haven’t made any decisions yet.”
A mix of rain and sleet pattered against the window. Dolly howled and scooted under Seth’s chair.
“Life often catches you while you’re making decisions.” Maureen fixed him with her firmest gaze. “I read somewhere that more people in this country listen to the radio than watch TV or use computers or fancy phones or what have you. It’s not just old folks, either. A lot of those Generation Xers and Millennials are big radio listeners too. It’s like that with Jake’s station. Everyone in this town depends on it and listens every day.”
“Of course, I’ll figure something out for the station. The least I can do is not leave the people of Irish Falls in the lurch.” Seth gave her an easy smile.
“Thank you.” Maureen didn’t smile back. Instead, she glanced at Annie, who had a worried pucker between her eyebrows. She didn’t know much about what went on in Annie’s head. Her daughter had been a mystery to her since she’d come back from college pregnant with Hannah. Even though, on the surface, she seemed happy with her life, there was a restlessness there, as well as a wall Maureen had never quite managed to break through.
Come to think of it, it was a lot like the wall that had grown up between her and her husband. Duncan had brought new love into her life when she’d expected to die a widow, but lately things had changed between them. And like Annie, he’d shut her out too.
All winter she’d looked for a sign. She’d even wished on the wishing tree, in secret, because her kids didn’t hold with the old ways. She glanced between Annie and Seth. “Annie didn’t say how long you’re intending to stay in town, but we’d be pleased if you’d join us for Sunday night supper.”
“Mom, I’m sure he has other plans.” Annie’s voice went up an octave.
“That’s real kind of you, but I couldn’t impose,” Seth said.
“Nonsense. You’re a stranger here, and we want to get to know you better. We’ll see you around five.” The only advantage to growing older was folks couldn’t argue with you like they once did. “Not that there’s enough of Irish Falls to get lost in, but Annie will give you directions.”
Maureen tightened her grip on her cane. Before another season turned, she had to start driving the changes she wanted to see in her life, as well as with Annie. Maybe Seth was one of the signs she’d wished for.
~ ~ ~
An hour later, Annie pasted what she hoped was a bland smile on her face and took Seth past the studio, Jake’s cubbyhole office, and the galley kitchen where Jake’s “Boss” mug still sat on the shelf above the sink. “I’m sorry about my mom. She always speaks her mind and Sunday dinner with my family . . . you don’t have to come. If you don’t want to, I mean.” Her stomach got tied in knots, along with her tongue.
“It’s only dinner. Your mom was being hospitable.” Seth backed out of the kitchen with Dolly at his heels and stopped in front of the glassed-in studio where the late afternoon talk show, “North Country Voices,” was in full swing. “Unless you don’t want me to come to dinner.” Seth’s voice was expressionless.
“Of course not. You’re welcome to join us.” Annie smiled harder. “Like you said, my mom’s hospitable.” But she had something on her mind, and it was something related to Seth that went beyond neighborliness to Jake’s nephew. Dinner was neighborly and so was that apple cake, but there had been a gleam in her mom’s eyes Annie didn’t trust.
“I wasn’t expecting the station to be so modern.” Seth nodded at the “North Country Voices” host through the window, and the guy tipped his John Deere ball cap in response. “Like I said before, I don’t know a lot about radio, but I’m impressed. All that digital equipment, streaming so people can listen on computer, and Jake even subscribed to a service to cover overnight and some weekend programing. It’s also a much bigger operation than I thought.” Seth’s eyes narrowed. “And although I haven’t looked at the books in detail, it seems pretty profitable too.”
“Jake never talked much about his life before he came here. I never asked either, but he wanted to make a go of this station, so he hired good people to help and everybody who works here does a bit of everything. He was smart about business too. Although he had investors to start the station, he bought them out years ago.” Annie rubbed her bottom lip and her body got heavy. Even though a part of her wanted Seth to go right back to LA, she couldn’t stand by while Jake’s life’s work was destroyed. She had to try and save the station.
Seth raised one dark eyebrow. “Why can’t those good people keep doing what they’ve been doing?”
Annie’s jaw got tight. “Jake’s cancer was diagnosed four months ago, and it was only two months ago he told us he was sick. Everybody wanted to keep things going for him. Now he’s gone . . .”
Seth let out a heavy breath. “Change, I get it.”
“He was the lynchpin that held this station together.” Annie glanced through the studio window and then at the empty reception desk. “Without Jake in charge, things are falling apart. Even Sherri . . .” She gestured to the desk. “She called in sick today, and she once came to work with a temperature of one oh two. Her sister was in the bakery earlier and she said Sherri’s scared of losing her job.”
“But why?” Seth frowned. “Anybody who bought the station would still need a receptionist and cleaner. I made sure to tell Sherri that when I met her yesterday.”
“A cleaner yes, but maybe not a receptionist like her. If a big company took over, they might want somebody different. Jake gave Sherri a job after her husband was killed in a snowmobile accident. She’d been home raising her kids for years and she learned fast, now she
even helps out with sales and she’s great, but . . .” Annie’s throat worked. “If she loses this job, all she might be able to find is cleaning work. She has a family to support.”
“I see.” Seth half raised a hand then dropped it. “And the morning show your mom mentioned?”
“Steve, the guy we hired, isn’t a good presenter, or a good people manager, either.” Annie swallowed the lump in her throat. “I feel responsible because I made the final decision to give him a try, but when I talked to him about his performance on Monday . . .” She blinked. “He said he ‘didn’t think anybody could make a success of this station.’ Jake had his own way of doing things. It worked for him, but without him, the staff are lost. I haven’t been able to find anybody around here with the skills or personality Jake had.” She moved into the reception area and pointed to the row of awards that hung on the wall behind the desk. “Jake earned those, but they’re the past. Nobody else here has the vision he did, or the business savvy.”
Or the charisma, either. Annie took a step away from Seth, as if it would protect her from the same charisma that emanated from him. Age had mellowed Jake’s charm, but on Seth that raw masculinity was still potent—and dangerous.
“Even if I took on the station for six months, like Jake wanted, wouldn’t it have to be sold in the end anyway?” Seth stared at his palms as if he didn’t see them.
“Maybe, but if someone like you gave it a shot . . .the staff and I could help you learn the ropes.” From where she stood, and maybe where Seth did too, it was an impossible situation but somehow, she had to help him see what this station meant. Apart from Jake’s legacy, the staff counted on their jobs here, not only for the money they earned but for a sense of community that couldn’t be measured in dollars and cents. “This station is like a family. I know you have a whole life back in LA and Irish Falls is a small town. There’s no comparison but if you could even consider . . . for a little while . . . take some time to get to know the place and the people before you sell.”
