Smitten (4 page)
“I don’t have time to run my own businesses
and
the mill, buddy.”
“Just call him,” Zak urged. “See what he has to say.”
The last thing Carson wanted was to get involved with his uncle’s business, but he supposed he owed the town that much. People had already been asking him if he knew why Uncle Howard had made his decision. He pulled out his phone and called his uncle’s cell.
“Hi, Carson,” his uncle’s voice boomed. “I wondered how long it would take before you broke down and called to get the inside scoop.”
The two men had always been close. Uncle Howard had helped raise Carson after his dad was killed in an accident at the mill, and had given Carson his dad’s share of the mill to start a hardware store in Boston. When this place in Smitten had come up for sale, Uncle Howard called him and invited him to come home. Carson owed him a lot.
“People are asking,” Carson said. “You okay?”
“As okay as I can be,” his uncle said. “I thought about filing for Chapter 11, but I don’t have it in me to fight any longer. The economy has taken its toll, and I don’t see any possible way of pulling the mill out. It’s been running in the red for five years.”
Five years. How had his uncle kept it open that long? “I had no idea,” Carson said.
“Helen’s asthma has gotten worse too, and the doctor says she needs to move to a warm, dry climate like Arizona.”
“But will you have enough money to live on?”
“Don’t worry about us, boy. I’ve made prudent investments. We’re losing the mill, but thanks to the smart thinking of those ladies, I’ve already got an offer for the property.”
“What? Who would want it? And why?”
“Some big investor from New York wants to build a resort on it. It would take years to get up and running, though. They’d have to level the buildings, get architect drawings done.”
“You’ve accepted the offer?”
“Not yet. I’m thinking it over. I wanted to give you a window, Carson.”
“What kind of window?”
“Time to renovate your cabins into some high-class lodging. You’ve got the premier spot right on the lake. Folks love that rustic feel if you can combine it with inside luxury. At least that’s what Helen tells me.” His voice held laughter. “I can help you with funds for that.”
“I don’t want to take any money from you.”
“Consider it an investment. When it’s up and running you can pay me back.”
Uncle Howard was an astute businessman. If he saw the potential, maybe it wasn’t as crazy as Carson thought. He ended the call with a promise to stop by and talk about it.
“The place is bankrupt,” he told Zak. “And he already has an offer for the property. He’s moving to Arizona.”
Zak leaned forward. “He’s taking the offer?”
“Thinking about it.”
“Get him to put it off. Let me find out what it will take to get a wood chip mill going.”
“I’ll talk to him.” Carson knew if anyone could make a go of a wood chip mill, it would be Zak. He’d taken a ramshackle building and turned it into a thriving bar and grill for the workers at the mill. He cared about those men and their families.
“I wish that whole romance thing wasn’t so crazy,” Zak said. “At least we’d have some hope.” He stomped off and slammed the back door behind him.
Carson poured a cup of coffee and thought about his uncle’s offer. Maybe he’d do some research about destination tourist spots. He took a sip from his mug and grimaced. It didn’t compare to Natalie’s brew.
T
he town square had been transformed in a week. Natalie surveyed all that had been accomplished. Reese was everywhere, organizing and directing where things went. She had an eye for color and form. Spring flower boxes had been built, park benches had been put into place, and the center commons area was spotless. It didn’t look like their ideal yet, but it was a start.
Natalie crossed the grassy area toward her shop when she saw Carson locking the door to the hardware store. She changed course. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” she asked him.
He glanced at her and nodded. At least he wasn’t frowning. He put his key in his pocket and folded his arms across his chest. “Your minions got quite a bit done today,” he said.
“They’re not
my
minions. They’re just people who have caught the vision.” She tucked her hair behind her ears. “Look, I didn’t come here to argue with you.”
“Then why did you?”
“I wanted to apologize.” That set him back on his heels. When he raised a brow, she rushed on. “I was out of line the other day. Your private affairs, er, business, has nothing to do with me. I shouldn’t have said anything about Lisa.”
“No, you shouldn’t have,” he agreed. “It has nothing to do with you. And spreading gossip isn’t very Christlike.”
“I wasn’t spreading gossip! I’ve said nothing to anyone but you. Lisa said . . .”
“Lisa lied,” he said. “Look, you’ve made your apology, such as it is. I have things to do this evening.”
He was right—her apology left much to be desired. She held out her hand. “I really am sorry. I shouldn’t have had Mia there.”
His warm hand closed around hers, and his touch made something in her stomach flutter.
What on earth?
She pulled her hand away.
“Tell me something,” he said. “Does Mia ever ask who her father is?”
“If you aren’t her father, why do you care?”
He wagged his finger under her nose. “You just can’t stay out of my business, can you?”
“You brought it up.”
“I asked a simple question.”
The man was going to drive her crazy. “She has asked. And I’ve distracted her and never told her.”
Relief glimmered in his eyes. “Just because I care about the kid’s feelings doesn’t mean she’s my daughter.”
“I know.” She didn’t want to talk about it with him anymore. It made her feel sick in the pit of her stomach to think that he was Mia’s father—which made no sense. She wished his denial were true. But why would Lisa lie about such a thing?
“Can I buy you a coffee to make up for it?” she asked. “I made some new cranberry bars today that turned out pretty tasty.”
He hesitated, and she thought he was going to refuse, but he finally nodded and fell into step beside her across the pavement. They’d worked down the street from each other for several years, but their relationship had been cool and guarded. Maybe that was all about to change.
He stopped and touched the wreath on the door. “Looks like Mia managed to get the wreath up.”
“She’s so proud of it.”
The aroma of coffee greeted them when she pushed open the door to the shop. She ducked behind the counter and got their coffee and snack while Zoe waited on a customer. Hmm, not many of the cranberry bars had been sold. She joined Carson, who was waiting for her on the leather sofa by the window. She watched him eagerly when he took a bite of the cranberry bar.
His mouth puckered. “I think it could use a little more sugar.”
She bit into hers, and the tart flavor puckered her lips too. “I don’t remember them being so tart this morning. Maybe cranberry flavor develops. I’ll use more figs next time.” She took another bite and managed to swallow it. “You don’t have to eat yours. I’ve got a fresh batch.”
He popped the last bite into his mouth, but his eyes widened.
“We’ve gotten off to a bad start.”
“You might say that.”
She hardly knew what to say to that. “I think that is going to change now,” she said. “We’ll have to work together on the plans. The town voted for it.”
His lips flattened. “It does appear I have no choice unless I resign as a selectperson.”
“Are you going to do that?” She couldn’t lay a finger on why the thought dismayed her.
He said nothing for a long moment. “No. I’ll abide by the people’s wishes even though I think it’s going to fail. That’ll be a lot of money down the drain.”
“Good. I’d hate for you to quit,” she said. She bit her lip when he stared at her. He’d probably dislike her next question, but for the good of the town, she had to ask it. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something. Is there any chance your uncle might help us?”
“In what way?”
“W-With money for renovations downtown? Do you know if he’s heard of our plans?”
He looked down at the coffee cup in his hand. “He knows.”
“What’s he think of it?”
“He thinks it’s brilliant.”
She couldn’t help the smile that sprang to her lips. “That’s wonderful!”
“He’s going to Arizona, though, so don’t count on much help from him. Knowing Uncle Howard, I’d guess he’ll give some kind of a donation. What needs to be done first?”
“Reese is keeping a list, so check with her, but I know we need more sprucing up of the buildings downtown. Painting, cleaning, sidewalk repair.”
“We need to put up some volunteer sign-up sheets in the church and the town hall,” he said.
“Reese already took care of that. She has lists of the types of workers we need, like electricians, plumbers, painters, or whatever.”
She watched animation brighten his eyes. He could bring a lot of enthusiasm to the project if he fully believed in it.
Carson sat back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. The numbers didn’t look good. The moonlight glimmered on the lake just outside the window, and he saw swans gliding by on the glasslike surface. He opened the French doors and stepped out onto the deck. The scent of the cattails in the shallow water just offshore came to his nose. Frogs croaked, and one splashed off to his left.
He settled into one of the Adirondack chairs and let the lake’s magic soothe him. His cell phone rang, and he answered it. “Carson Smitten.”
“Hello, Mr. Smitten, I need to cancel a booking,” the woman said.
He placed the voice, and his heart sank. “Sorry to hear that, Mrs. Deshler. All of them?”
“I’m afraid so. We decided to go to Stowe instead. I called in time to avoid a charge, isn’t that right?”
“Yes. If you cancel thirty days or more before the date, there’s no cancellation fee.” He made a note to release the ten rooms she’d booked and hung up.
He’d been counting on that booking to pay his staff. There was money in his savings to cover it, but it didn’t make him happy. If the woman had waited one more day, he could have collected a cancellation fee. Rebooking that many cabins this quickly wasn’t going to be easy. With the sounds of the lake in his ears, he sat and prayed for direction.
Another sound came to his ears, and he lifted his head. Was that the doorbell? Before he could heave himself out of his chair, he heard boot heels clacking along the wooden floors. Only one person’s footsteps sounded like that.
He rocketed out of the chair and turned toward the door as his brother stepped through. “Sawyer!”
The two embraced, then Carson held his brother at arm’s length and inspected him. His hair was a little longer under the cowboy hat, but his blue eyes were alert and mischievous. He wore a bright blue shirt with fringe, well-fitted jeans, and snakeskin boots.
“Same old Carson,” Sawyer said. “Town looked good as I blew through. I stopped at the coffee shop for a latte, and Zoe told me what’s going on. Pretty exciting stuff!”
Sawyer always looked on the bright side. His dreams had taken him to a television talent show, where he’d found success beyond his wildest expectations. Well, maybe not beyond Sawyer’s expectations. The guy put his heart into everything. The country was beginning to pay attention to his cowboy love ballads.
When Carson said nothing, Sawyer glanced around. “I hear you need to renovate the cabins.”
“I like them the way they are,” Carson protested. “And I don’t have the money for the kind of renovations you’re talking about.” He put all the disgust he could muster into his voice.
Sawyer’s grin vanished. “Listen, buddy, I’m the reason you don’t have the money. You’ve poured so much cash into my dreams that there hasn’t been any left over for you. I want to pay for the renovations. It’s the least I can do after all you’ve done for me.”
“That’s way too much,” Carson protested. “You’re still getting your career going. Besides, I didn’t give you what it’s going to cost to update this many cottages.”
