Homecoming Reunion (2 page)

Businesswoman
, Garret thought, his mind slipping back to the blue jeans, hooded sweatshirts and running shoes Larissa used to favor. Designer blue jeans, mind you, but blue jeans nonetheless.

Now she looked as though she had been transplanted from some Manhattan office tower and plunked into downtown Hartley Creek.

“Don’t forget your shoes,” he said, looking down at the pumps lying on the floor.

Her cheeks flushed and without looking at him she slipped her shoes on, which lifted her about two inches higher. She slung her briefcase over her shoulder, picking up her mug and a plate that held the remains of her lunch. As she straightened, her eyes grazed his but this time he saw nothing in their depths.

Which bothered him more than the anger he saw previously.

“Good to see you again, Garret,” she said, her voice cool and composed. Then she turned to her uncle who got to his feet. “So I’ll see you tomorrow at the inn then.”

“I’ll be by about eight o’clock,” he said.

She nodded and swept past Garret, leaving behind the faintest hint of flowers from her perfume.

The scent brought back another wave of memories. He and Larissa sneaking down the back alleys of Main Street to come here, hoping her father wouldn’t catch them. He and Larissa sitting in this very corner at Mug Shots—their spot—sharing a scone, a few laughs. A kiss.

He shook his head as if to clear away the insidious webs of memory. He had to get a grip, he thought. He was bound to run into Larissa again. Hartley Creek wasn’t big enough to avoid her completely.

Baxter got to his feet and shook Garret’s hand, as if officially beginning their own meeting. “Good to see you again, Garret. It’s been a while.”

Garret returned his solid grip, then sat down in the chair Baxter had pulled out for him, settling in. He couldn’t help a flutter of anticipation at what would transpire. A few months ago, when Garret was in town for Carter’s wedding, Garret had heard rumblings that Baxter wanted to downsize. Sell off some of his business holdings, one of which was his majority shares in Timberline Mills, the sawmill where Garret used to work, owned by Larissa’s father, Jack Weir.

The man who had come between him and Larissa all those years ago. The man who had fired his mother even earlier than that.

Garret had struggled with his reasons for buying these shares. Holding the majority share in a company Jack Weir owned would give him some control over the man who, at one time, had so much control over his life. The idea was intriguing and, if he were honest, a bit exciting.

When he was younger he had promised himself that the only way he would come back to Hartley Creek was as an established businessman.

Buying the mill was his chance to prove to himself and to the town that he had arrived.

And Larissa?

He pushed the thought back where it belonged. He didn’t care what Larissa thought of him.

“I’m glad we could finally get this meeting together,” Garret said, “I’m looking forward to discussing this deal.”

Baxter leaned back in his chair, his finger tracing the line of his mustache, now more silver than the dark black it was when Garret worked for Timberline Mills. “So tell me again why a man, educated as a petroleum engineer, wants to buy shares in a sawmill?” His tone was pleasant but Garret sensed an underlying reservation. He guessed it had much to do with Baxter’s brother-in-law and partner, Jack Weir. Larissa’s father.

Garret took a quick sip of his coffee, searching for the right words.

“My grandmother, as you know, had a heart attack a while back and hinted that she wanted me and my brother and cousins to come back home. And I’d been wanting to for a while.” Garret’s mind slipped back to the endless evenings in lonely hotel rooms overseas. He’d sensed that something was missing in his life, something he wouldn’t find until he came back to the place where his best memories were formed.

When his brother approached him about buying the ranch, Garret wasn’t financially ready to come back to town. And he’d never been as involved as Carter in the family ranch.

But seeing Carter so happy at his wedding, so willing to settle back in Hartley Creek, made Garret yearn for the same thing.

Knowing Larissa Weir still lived here had nothing to do with it?

Garret dismissed the random thought. Larissa was as much a part of his past as the old football cleats that probably still sat in a box somewhere in Nana Beck’s basement on the ranch.

“I suspect you’ve already talked to the bank about financing?” Baxter asked, a hint of skepticism in his voice as he continued to hold Garret’s gaze.

Garret couldn’t help but laugh at the doubt threaded through Baxter’s voice. “I know you’re wondering how someone who started working for you as a lumber piler can afford to buy out your share.”

“I admit. I am.” Baxter smiled at Garret’s blunt comment.

“I lived cheap while I was working,” Garret said. “Once I paid my loans back I was able to save quite a bit of money. I plowed as much as I could into the stock market. I made a good call on some undervalued IPO’s after the first big dip in the stock market.” Garret leaned back feeling again the exhilaration of watching the value of those penny stocks skyrocket and wondering when to get off the thrill ride. That decision had changed his life. And given him many more options, one of which was making Baxter this offer. “The bank is willing to work with me based on my assets. Plus, the mill is a good investment with a healthy profit margin.” A profit margin that would give him a better return on his investment than his current portfolio. Though he had benefited from the previous jump, in the past few months his money hadn’t been doing as well as it could. He had pulled some out to finance his purchase of the shares in the mill, the rest he left, waiting for them to come up again.

“I’m glad financing won’t be a problem,” Baxter was saying, leaning forward and folding his hands on the table. He paused, looking down at his interlaced fingers, a frown creasing his forehead. He paused and Garret felt a building premonition of dread.

“You look concerned. Is something wrong?” Garret asked.

Baxter blew out his breath, then looked up at Garret. “I don’t know how to say this, but I’ve changed my mind about selling my share in the mill.”

Garret dropped back in his chair. “Is this because of my dealings with Jack in the past?”

Or my dealings with Jack’s daughter?

When Larissa and Garret started dating, Larissa had been adamant her father not find out. Jack Weir’s grand plans for his daughter didn’t include her dating a lowly worker at his mill. So he and Larissa had met in secret, which lent an air of clandestine excitement to their relationship. But Jack had found out and the consequences had split him and Larissa apart.

“No, Garret, my change of heart has nothing to do with Jack.” Baxter held Garret’s gaze, his green eyes, so like Larissa’s drilling into his. “I simply changed my mind.”

Garret wanted to argue with him, but what could he say? Baxter held all the cards in this deal.

“However I have another proposition if you’re willing to entertain that,” Baxter continued. “When my parents died, they willed their businesses to me, Jack and Paula, Larissa’s mother. Jack got forty percent of the mill, I got sixty. I also got forty-nine percent share in the Morrisey Creek Inn and Paula got fifty-one. I’m willing to sell you my shares in the inn instead.”

Garret released his pent up breath, his gaze slipping away from Baxter as he tried to adjust to this huge change in his plans.

“The inn won’t net you the same income as the mill would,” Baxter continued, “But it’s still a decent investment.”

“I’m assuming Paula’s share of the inn went to her husband when she died?”

“Forty-nine percent did. Two percent went to Larissa.” Baxter nodded, understanding why Garret asked that question.

“I don’t think I’m interested,” he said, knowing what the implications of ownership of the inn would mean.

Larissa worked at the inn. If he bought this property, he would see her every day, not just occasionally as he had anticipated. He was a big boy now, but even the small glimpse he’d had of her today reminded him he was better off getting used to her in small doses.

Besides, he would be a minority shareholder in the business with Jack Weir, with Larissa holding the shares that could tip decisions one way or the other. And he knew she would lean the way she always had. Toward her father.

“I think it’s a good opportunity,” Baxter continued, “And it will cost you less than the mill.”

Garret weighed that factor, letting the idea settle but he kept thinking about working with Larissa.

Your relationship was a long time ago. Get over it.

Garret knew he should. It would be crazy to let an old relationship get in the way of a business opportunity. At the same time, why put himself in an untenable situation?

“I’ll think about it,” he said, giving Baxter a careful smile.

“Don’t think too long. I know there are other people interested,” Baxter said.

Garret sensed Baxter’s comment was the usual song and dance most sellers used on buyers. Create a sense of urgency so second thoughts go out the window.

“If someone else is interested then that’s the way it is.” Garret got to his feet, showing Baxter he would not be pushed or bluffed. Then he shook Baxter’s hand. “Thanks for your time.” He was about to turn when he noticed something black on the floor beside the chair where Larissa sat. He bent over to pick it up.

Larissa’s purse.

“Can’t believe she left that behind,” Baxter said as Garret held it up. “She’s always so careful.”

Probably in a hurry to get away from me,
Garret thought. “I’m sure she’ll figure out she’s missing it eventually.”

“I’ll get it to her.” Baxter took the purse from Garret. He paused a moment, as if he wanted to say something more, but then pushed his chair under the table. “So let me know in the next couple days if you’re interested in buying the inn.” Baxter gave him a quick smile, then headed to the door leading to the patio.

Garret picked up his half-empty mug pulling his thoughts together.

This was not the outcome he had hoped for when he had come here. And he wasn’t sure what to do next. Nana would encourage him to pray, as she had when he had visited her a couple of days ago.

She had encouraged him to settle down in Hartley Creek, as she had so hoped all her grandchildren would. She suggested he to turn to God for all the decisions in his life and had given him a Bible to help him on that journey.

But Garret hadn’t trusted God since, at age ten, he watched his mother lowered into her grave. Since then, in spite of going to church with his grandparents every Sunday, he had drifted so far from God that praying wasn’t part of any of the plans he made.

Garret dragged his hand over his face. Too many decisions to make. One thing he did know, however, he would be cautious about getting too close to Larissa.

* * *

Oh brother.
In her hurry to get away from Garret, Larissa had forgotten her purse. She turned at the next intersection and drove back to Mug Shots.

When she walked in the front door, Garret and her uncle stood at the table. Uncle Baxter was holding her purse and she was just about to call out to him when she heard the tail end of her uncle’s conversation.

“...whether or not you’re interested in buying the inn.”

Uncle Baxter’s words were like a shot of ice water through Larissa’s veins. She stopped by the cash register, shock rooting her feet to the floor as she grabbed for the counter to steady herself.

What was her uncle talking about? Selling the inn?

And why was he saying that to Garret?

The questions spun through her head as she tried to regain equilibrium. Surely she had heard wrong?

Before she could call out to her uncle, however, he had slipped through the patio door and was out of the building.

She was about to turn to leave, hoping to catch her uncle, when Garret turned and their gazes locked.

His very presence created a flurry of feelings: sorrow, anger, resistance and attraction all beating at her, demanding attention.

As their eyes connected her heart leaped in her chest, stifling her breathing, creating an unwilling sense of anticipation as he walked toward her.

No. She wasn’t letting this happen.

“What did my uncle mean?” she blurted out as he reached her side, pushing her errant emotions aside in her need to know what had just happened. “Why did he say he would hear back from you about the Inn?” She knew she really didn’t have any right to ask, but she needed to know what was going on.

And she needed to keep herself from letting remnants of her old feelings for Garret have any influence in her life.

Garret put his mug in the plastic tub with the other dishes and turned to Larissa, as if weighing what he was about to say.

“He offered to sell me his share of the Inn.” Garret spoke quietly but his words thundered in her mind.

“Why would he do that? What reason would he have?” Larissa struggled to articulate her rampant thoughts, wishing she didn’t sound so foolish in front of the man who had taken up far too much space in her head.

“Because he didn’t want to sell me his share of the mill as we had previously arranged.”

What was going on? Larissa felt like Alice in Wonderland, tumbling down the rabbit hole, wondering when she would land. And where.

“I didn’t know...Uncle Baxter never said...I had no idea he wanted to sell either,” she stammered. Why hadn’t her uncle talked to her first? After all, she held a share in the inn. It used to belong to her mother. Surely she had more stake in it than Garret Beck?

“I talked to him about the mill the last time I was in town. I was here to talk to him about that sale when he said he changed his mind and offered me a share in the inn.” Garret’s calm voice and attitude made her more flustered.

It didn’t seem to matter to him that they had once whispered plans about their future. It didn’t seem to matter that he was the first man she had ever loved utterly and completely. The first man she had imagined herself marrying.