Best Laid Wedding Plans Page 11

  The bottomland hardwoods stood tall and proud. Twenty minutes later, the sun finally peeked through the clouds, turning the water golden. A couple ducks splashed down, and Roscoe started beside him.

  Grabbing the dog by his collar, Cole warned, “Don’t even think about it.”

  Hand shading his eyes, he studied the area and tried to remember exactly where Jenni Beth’s land ended. And then he knew. A “No Trespassing” sign had been nailed to several of the trees on the north side.

  Hurrying, he walked closer, Roscoe zipping around him, barking, obviously picking up on his sense of urgency. Disappointment crept in, though, as Cole realized the sign wouldn’t give him any more information, wouldn’t tell him who’d posted the land. Just a cheap plastic, generic hardware store sign.

  Determined now, he walked the edge of the property. He’d be late for breakfast, but it couldn’t be helped.

  Roscoe stopped for a drink. “Watch out for snakes, buddy.” The dog barked once and ran back to his side.

  Before he even got to the far boundary, he saw another sign. The land on this side was posted, too. The same cheap, black-and-orange sign. No doubt Richard Thorndike had some whopping plans for Jenni Beth’s acreage.

  But who was the banker in bed with? Because sure as shootin’, this land was way too rich for Richard’s blood. Over five hundred grand for Jenni Beth’s piece, then add the land on both sides into the mix? He smelled an even bigger rat than he had yesterday. Something was in the works here, and Magnolia House had been anteed up without Jenni Beth fully understanding the stakes.

  Time for them to have another talk.

  After waffles with his mom and dad.

  * * *

  Richard Thorndike knotted his tie and checked the mirror one last time. He slid into his jacket and shot his cuffs. By this time next year, he wouldn’t be wearing off-the-rack suits. No, sir. His would be custom tailored.

  Halfway downstairs for a much-needed cup of coffee, he glanced at the wall clock and revised his plans. He had plenty of time, and his wife had already left for her office. Instead of making his call from the bank, he’d do it here where he had complete privacy. No snooping ears. The whole town was a bunch of busybodies.

  When the phone was answered on the second ring, he said, “Things are under way.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Time for you to be up.”

  “I am up, and I have been for quite a while already.”

  “Fine. I’ll slap a gold star on your forehead next time I see you.”

  “Don’t get all sarcastic on me. You need us more than we need you.”

  “Understood. But did you hear what I told you?” Richard asked. “Everything is in place.”

  “I know. I’ve talked to Jenni Beth.”

  “I’d rather we not use names over the phone.” Even to himself he sounded prim, but a person couldn’t be too careful. Not with this much at stake.

  “Oh, come on. Loosen up. We’re in Misty Bottoms, for heaven’s sake, not in the bowels of some espionage pit. You honestly think your phone or mine is being tapped—just in case?”

  “Laugh if you want, but stranger things have happened.”

  “How about I call you a little later?”

  “No. I don’t want you calling me at the bank.”

  “Fine.”

  “If we intend to get hold of that land—”

  “I understand what I need to do. Doesn’t mean I have to like it, though.”

  “No, it doesn’t. You can feel sorry as all hell for the Beaumonts and their plight. You can feel sorry for yourself that you’re involved in this. I don’t care. The only thing I do care about is that the loan she signs, the one with her bottomland as collateral, is defaulted on and we end up with the land. Period. And you’ll do well to keep that in mind.”

  * * *

  Jenni Beth wondered if Richard would call today or if he intended to keep her cooling her heels for a while longer. She stood by what she’d told him. As far as a business loan went, this was one of the best he’d had in front of him in a long time.

  What she hadn’t mentioned were her own fears. As she wandered slowly down the stairs, the bright early morning sun spotlighted and intensified all the old house’s flaws. Every water stain, every cracked and chipped baseboard glared at her, taunted her.

  Could she pull this off? Or would her efforts be as futile as sticking a cork in the Titanic, hoping to stop the leak?

  Cole had offered to help. She reminded herself, though, that he’d shown up out of a sense of responsibility. Nothing more. If she failed, he’d no doubt suffer a little remorse, but it wouldn’t be the end of life as he knew it. For her, for her parents, it would be.

  She struggled to recapture some of yesterday’s anger, but it seemed to have evaporated. All she could dredge up was gratitude for his offer to help her—even if his motives were suspect.

  As for the rest of it? He and Wes had been best pals; she’d been the tagalong baby sister. That sexual zing yesterday? The result of a stressful situation. Nothing more.

  Today? She had a lot to do.

  Vernon, the family gardener, had long ago passed his prime, so she’d hired a couple of teens to help him. Jeeters, one of Beck’s guys, had come in with a huge mower and knocked down the worst of the high grass and weeds. The boys had done the trimming and hauling.

  She carried her coffee outside to the patio table and sat down with Vernon. “Let me show you the plans I’ve sketched out for the gardens.” She spread out her drawings, the different areas numbered according to priority.

  “I plan to start small and work my way through this as money comes in. We’ll tackle the most visible parts first.”

  “I’m real sorry everything’s such a mess, Ms. Jenni Beth. The grounds got ahead of me.”

  “It’s not your fault.” She laid a hand on his gnarled one. “Things have gotten away from all of us. And you used to have help,” she soothed.

  He pointed at one of the flower beds. “Caught a coon in there this morning diggin’ things up. Animal was as big as a bushel basket.”

  “They can be real rascals.” She rolled up the plans and rubber banded them. “Why don’t you keep this set? I have another copy if these get torn or misplaced.”

  Nodding, Vernon stood slowly. “No wind right now, so I’m gonna burn that pile of branches the boys hauled out back.”

  “Sounds good, but keep your eyes on it. Thought I’d work in the rose garden before it gets any hotter. I need a great shot of it for the website I’m designing.”

  As she watched him amble away, she remembered the days he’d pitched to Wes and his friends for batting practice. The time he’d climbed the tree to rescue her cat.

  Then her mind got busy figuring photo shots and angles. Some bride, somewhere would pull up her site, see the rose garden, and realize it was her perfect wedding destination.

  Right now? The garden had disintegrated to nothing much more than a jumble of overgrown roses and weeds. And it was up to her to restore it.

  She sighed and ran upstairs to her bedroom. As she hit the top landing, she huffed out her breath. Who needed a pricey gym membership when you could hike up two flights of stairs twenty times a day?

  In the corner, by the oversized rattan chair, she’d hung her collection of straw hats, everything from big brimmed ones with fancy decorations to cowboy hats to well-worn plain Janes. She made good use of them. After all, a Southern lady always, always protected her skin.

  And her family.

  Chapter 11

  Cole dashed into his place for a quick shower. If he intended to have it out with Richard, he should probably look a bit more presentable. Though what difference a shave would make in the grand scheme of things he couldn’t say.

  The shower felt good. He should have sneaked one in before bre
akfast with his parents. He patted his stomach. The waffles had been excellent as always. His mom was a first-rate country cook. Nothing fancy, although she could lay out a Sunday brunch that would put anybody to shame.

  Drying off, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He leaned into the old watering trough he’d salvaged. After he’d welded legs on it, he’d added funky old faucets, then plunked granite countertops on both sides. He liked it. It made one heck of a bathroom vanity.

  He ran a hand over his chin, his cheeks. Heck with it. No shaving this morning. If Richard didn’t like it, too damn bad. In fact, it might be better if he didn’t. He opened his closet door, and there hung laundered and ironed shirts. His mom. Bless her heart.

  Most were the white dress shirts he liked to wear with his jeans. Two minutes, and he was dressed and ready to go. He grabbed his keys from the bowl on his nightstand and headed downstairs.

  A slow burn simmered through him as he drove into town. Richard knew exactly what Jenni Beth and her family had been through these past eighteen months. Only low-down scum would try to take advantage of that. He’d always figured Misty Bottoms took care of its own. Apparently things had changed.

  An empty parking spot beckoned directly in front of the bank, and Cole nabbed it. Striding through the doors, he perched his sunglasses on top of his head and nodded at Gloria. “Mornin’, beautiful. Is your boss in?”

  “He is.” She sent him a warm smile. “Let me tell him you’re here.”

  When she reached for the intercom button, he put a hand over hers, stopping her. “That’s okay. I’ll surprise him.”

  A frown wrinkled her brow. “But…”

  He didn’t hang around to listen.

  Richard’s head jerked up when Cole walked in unannounced, closing the door firmly behind him. Instantly, reflexively, Richard shut down his monitor. “Cole. What can I do for you? I didn’t realize we had an appointment.”

  “We don’t.” A muscle worked in Cole’s jaw, reminding him how close to the surface his anger boiled. Willing himself to calm down, he dropped into the chair in front of the expensive desk chosen to pay homage to Richard’s own sense of self-importance.

  Cole realized, crossing his feet at the ankles, that he’d never really liked the guy all that much. The present situation simply magnified that sentiment.

  “Okay.” Richard picked up a pen, rolled it between his fingers, and then tossed it onto the desk. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Magnolia House.”

  Richard never even blinked.

  Oh, he’s good, Cole thought.

  “I don’t see how the Beaumont plantation is any of your business.”

  “I’m makin’ it my business.” Cole met the banker’s eyes. “What’s goin’ on?”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

  Cole leaned in toward the man, rested the palms of his hands flat on the shiny cherry surface. “Oh, I think you do.”

  “I like you, Cole. So I’m telling you as a friend that Magnolia House isn’t any of your concern.”

  “We’re not friends, Thorndike.”

  The heat that raced across the older man’s face gave Cole a sense of satisfaction. Good. Might as well be two of them pissed off.

  “Cole, I’ll ignore that remark. Your mother would be appalled by your rudeness.”

  Cole shrugged. “Magnolia House?” he repeated.

  “I suggest you stay out of things there,” Richard said. “I know you and Wes were good friends, but that has no bearing any longer.”

  Cole flinched at that. At the idea of Richard or anyone else putting him and Wes in the past. At the notion their friendship no longer counted for anything. Pain tore at him. Damn, he missed his pal. And he would do right by him.

  Like a bulldog with a bone clenched between his teeth, Cole refused to back down. “What’s the deal with Jenni Beth and her bottomland?”

  Richard leaned back in his leather chair and clasped his hands together over his stomach. “Afraid I can’t discuss that with you. It’s confidential.”

  “What? You add an MD to the end of your name now?” Cole asked.

  A muscle in the banker’s jaw tightened. “I answer to the stockholders, not you.”

  “Do they know about this?”

  “This what? What exactly are you insinuating?” Red bloomed on his cheeks.

  Anger or guilt? Cole wondered.

  “I have another appointment. You’ll have to excuse me.”

  “Sure thing.” Cole backed off. He’d probably already put his foot in it. Jenni Beth needed the loan. He couldn’t screw that up for her. Still he raised two fingers to his eyes, motioned from himself to Richard in an I’ll-be-watching-you gesture.

  Without another word, he left. But he stopped in the doorway to stare pointedly at the god-awful uncomfortable plastic chairs outside Richard’s office. The empty chairs. No next appointment waited. He turned, threw Richard a mocking salute.

  “Don’t go making trouble, boy,” Richard warned.

  “Don’t think I need to. Seems it’s arrived without any help from me.”

  Back in the sunshine, in the heat of the day, Cole stood on the sidewalk and swore under his breath. That had gained nothing, had turned out to be little more than two buckets of testosterone tossed at each other. If Jenni Beth got wind of it, his testosterone would probably dry up after she castrated him for messing in her business.

  Still, it had to be done.

  Frustrated, Cole detoured across the street, through the pretty little park, and into Henderson’s Pharmacy. He needed a cold drink, needed to give himself some cooling-down time before he throttled Thorndike, and Sheriff Jimmy Don ended up tossing him in a cell.

  “Hey, Sheryl.” He plopped onto one of the old, faded-red leather seats that showed generations of wear.

  Sheryl Brooks grinned. “Haven’t seen you in a coon’s age, Cole Bryson. Heard you’re pretty busy down there in Savannah. Your mom’s real proud of you.”

  “I’m stayin’ out of trouble.” Liar, liar! his conscience taunted. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose.

  Sheryl and his mother had gone to school together and still did a movie night once a month with some of their classmates. He didn’t doubt for a second Sheryl had been kept up to date on all his business.

  “What can I get you?”

  “I’d like a big, ice-cold tea. To go.”

  “You got it.” She moved across the room to draw his drink. “Unsweetened?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Lemon?”

  “No, thanks.” His fingers drummed on the tabletop.

  “Heard you and Jenni Beth had breakfast together yesterday.” Sheryl glanced over her shoulder at him.

  “Um, not exactly.” Dang, he should have known. Small town. “I ran into her at Dee-Ann’s.”

  “Yeah. Ran into her again at Darlene’s shop.”

  She’d caught him flat-footed. He removed his ball cap, then clamped it back on his head. “Coincidence. Both times.”

  “Sure. Them things happen.”

  He bit back a chuckle and wondered how she managed to talk with that tongue tucked in her cheek like that. Best not to say anything else. Kind of like pleading the fifth on the witness stand.

  “Heard she had an appointment with Thorndike,” Sheryl continued. “My guess is she needs some money if she’s gonna fix up that house of hers. Damn shame they’ve let it go to ruin. Guess they lost interest after what happened to Wes. Then her daddy got himself in a financial pickle.”

  She set his drink in front of him, and he paid her for it. Still, she waited.

  A heck of a fisherman, he thought. She’d thrown her line in the water and waited patiently for a bite. Well, he’d be darned if he’d swallow that hook or spill the beans. Since it seemed the whole town knew he an
d Jenni Beth had been together at Dee-Ann’s, there wasn’t a prayer in hell that the whole town didn’t also know what Jenni Beth had planned. But he wouldn’t be the one to verify.

  “I can’t tell you much, Sheryl. I’ve been out of town these last few weeks. Jenni Beth doesn’t exactly confide in me.”

  “Too bad. If she’s plannin’ on renovatin’ that place, you could be a lot of help, what with your business and all.”

  “Yeah, well.” He shrugged and stood. “Gotta go.”

  “You stayin’ in town for a bit?”

  “A few days.”

  “Good. Your mama’s been missin’ you.”

  “I know.” He grinned. “She tells me every day.”

  As he walked the block to his car, he took note again of all the businesses in need of help. He couldn’t take them all on, but he sure could help Wes’s little sister.

  If she’d let him.

  Still sipping on his iced tea, Cole surprised himself when he turned the big black Ford dually into the long drive to Magnolia House. He hadn’t actually meant to come here.

  Now that he was, though, he decided it was a good thing. Time he and Jenni Beth had a heart-to-heart. Time she understood the way the real world worked.

  Good might always defeat evil in the Disney films she and her friends used to watch at the movies, but in real life? Happily-ever-after wasn’t guaranteed. Sometimes the beast turned out to be…well, just that. A beast.

  He found her in the side yard in what used to be the house’s crowning glory, the now thoroughly run-down rose garden.

  “You need some help with this,” he growled as he watched a thorn grab hold of the tender flesh of her arm. He leaned down and untangled her from the tenacious hold the branch had on her. Nearly kissed the small tear before he caught himself.

  “Really? I never considered that.” She planted a hand in the small of her back and arched into it.

  Cole pulled at some weeds to keep his hands busy. To keep them off that sweet body.

  Instead, his voice gruff, he asked, “When’s the last time you visited your bottomland?”

  She stared at him. “Boy, somebody’s grouchy. What are you so upset about?”