How Forever Feels (28 page)

Available from Loveswept

“Holy jumpin'…” Liam O'Donnell didn't even wait for the float plane to pull away from the dock before he turned his back on it, tugged his tie loose, and freed the top two buttons on his shirt.

His older brother, Ronan, had already yanked his tie off and stuffed it in his pocket, but Finn, the youngest, hadn't even bothered to put one on. He hadn't worn one when they spread Da's ashes in Millbanke Sound last week, so why would he wear one to meet with the lawyers?

With Ro in the lead, the three of them trudged straight up the dock toward the main lodge of The Buoys, where, with any luck, Jessie would have pints of Gat waiting for them.

Tucked in and around Strip Cove, The Buoys sat nestled under towering old-growth forest on the southeast side of Welch Island, where the only other living things either swam, flew, or walked on all fours. It was where all three O'Donnell boys had been born and raised, and it was where they'd learned everything there was to learn about life, from patience to respect to how a little time alone with a rod-and-reel was the best way to cope after Ma left. They'd not only learned to swim in the numbing clear waters of their cove, they'd helped build the dock, the fish shack, the cabins that lined the water's edge, and the half-dozen small A-frames behind the lodge that housed the employees.

And even though Da had driven all three of them away, The Buoys was in their blood; it was still their home. But for how much longer?

They'd heard the rumors—hell, it was pretty much all anyone had wanted to talk about when the boys had rolled into Port Hardy last week looking for a flight into The Buoys. Up until an hour ago, though, that's all they'd thought they were: rumors.

Turned out those rumors were true.

One by one, Liam and his brothers filed into the pub-style restaurant in the back of the main lodge, where Jessie greeted them with a wary smile and tall glasses of Guinness.

A longtime employee at The Bouys, Jessie Todd was the only year-round employee the old man had ever hired. She'd spent more time with Da in the last fifteen years than any of them; she'd put up with his bullshit and black moods and was, without question, the main reason the lodge was still running. If she'd had a lick of sense, she would have bailed a long time ago, but that wasn't Jessie's way. The Buoys was just as much her home as it was theirs, and she wasn't about to give it up without a fight.

“I'm impressed,” she said, smirking slowly. “Locked in that room with the suits for over an hour and not a single one of you has a bloody nose or a black eye. Almost makes me think you might have all finally grown up.”

Anyone else who dared say something like that would've found themselves on the business end of an O'Donnell right hook, but this was Jessie. She'd watched the three of them go at it more times than any of them cared to admit, and a few times she'd been the one who'd finally pushed between them to break it up.

Ronan and Finn took their drinks to one of the small round tables, while Liam slid up on the nearest stool and leaned back against the bar. Without a word, they all lifted their glasses in a toast before drinking.

“To Da.”

They sipped slowly, as if that would help settle things. It didn't, and Jessie wasn't about to wait much longer for an explanation.

“Spill it.” Leaning back against the stool next to Liam, she rested her left arm on her stomach and held her glass on top. “What are we looking at?”

Liam stared at her over the top of his glass for a couple of seconds before taking a long sip of his beer and wiping the foam from his lip.

“The good news is that The Buoys is ours.”

“Duh. You didn't think he'd leave it to anyone else, did you?”

“Just tell her.” Finn hadn't spoken since they'd walked out of the meeting with the lawyers, and while his voice was as quiet as usual, it stopped the rest of them in midbreath. For the first time, worry settled over Jessie's brow.

“Tell me what?” Her gaze settled first on Finn, but when he didn't answer, she shifted it to Ronan, who cleared his throat hard before saying anything.

“The rumors were true; Da was going to sell The Buoys.”

Jessie didn't blink for a long time, just stared back at him the same way the three of them had stared back when the lawyer had told them. It was one thing for the old man not to tell the three of them, but not to tell Jessie…that was just wrong.

“No. No way. Why would Jimmy want to sell?”

“No one knows,” Liam said. “But apparently he flew over to Port Hardy a couple months back to meet with this guy Paul Foster.”

“No, he didn't.” Jessie tipped her head and squinted a little. “I mean, yeah, he'd been over to Hardy a couple times lately, sure, but it was to look at a new boat.”

“There was no mention of another boat,” Ronan said. “But according to one of the suits who'd gone to the meeting between Da and Foster, pints were shared and hands were shaken.”

“Oh, crap.”

“Exactly.” Anyone who'd known the old man knew that if he shook your hand and bought you a pint, the deal was as good as done in his mind. “Thankfully, Foster has a whole team of lawyers who don't think handshakes meant squat; notarized signatures are what they believe in, which is the only reason the deed for this place is still in the O'Donnell name.”

“So nothing was signed?”

“No,” Liam said. “But the wheels were in motion.”

For a long while, no one said anything else, even though Jessie kept looking at them, waiting. “What does that mean?”

Liam licked his lips and sighed quietly. “It means The Buoys transferred to the three of us in the will before anything was official, so technically, we're free to do what we want with it.”

“And that's a problem because…?”

This time Ronan spoke; his expression almost grave. “Because there's a stack of bills and a mile-long list of repairs and no money in the account to pay for any of it.”

“Happens every year.” Her shrug couldn't have been more dismissive. “Once the season starts, we make it work.”

“Sure.” Liam snorted over a shrug. “Except we don't have anyone to do the work this year.”

The second the seasonal staff had caught wind of the rumors, they'd all jumped ship to secure jobs elsewhere. It pissed Liam off, but he couldn't blame them; they all had bills of their own to pay, and without the old man at the helm there was no guarantee The Buoys would even have a season this year.

“What are you talking about? We've got the four of us right here and in a couple weeks we'll have—”

“Foster offered us the same deal they offered Da.” Liam could have kicked his brothers for not helping him out on this. The two of them just sat there, heads down, fingers tapping their glasses.

“But you…oh no…tell me you didn't…” Jessie stopped, choked over a disbelieving laugh, then turned back to Liam. “You didn't accept it, did you?”

“No, but we need to smart about this, Jessie. None of us has worked a full season since…hell, I don't even remember, and—”

“It's
fishing,
Liam.” Jessie hopped off her stool and made her way around the bar to refill her glass. “The only thing that changes is the tide. Find the fish, put the rods in, reel the lines back up.”

“That's not what I—”

“Then what?”

“Well,” he said, drawing the word out, “for starters, it's a big commitment.”

“And that's a problem because…why? You're not doing anything these days anyway, so what's the problem?”

“Excuse me?”
Liam hoped she wasn't talking to him specifically, but who else would she be talking to? And one look at his brothers made it clear they were thinking the same thing.

“Am I wrong?” Jessie made no attempt to hide her frustration as she shoved her dark hair over her shoulder then shook her head slowly. “Oh, come on, Liam. I'm sorry, okay, but your arm's done; you can't pitch anymore. Hell, you can barely throw. Your contract was up almost a year ago, and unless you've had offers you haven't told us about…”

God, she was lucky she was a girl.

“Have you?” Ro asked. “Had any offers, I mean.”

Liam clenched his jaw tighter. For the last eleven months, his agent had been running around like a madman, talking to every team in the league and letting them know that Liam was still open to offers. His arm might not be what it once was, but despite what Jessie thought, he could still pitch. Maybe not as a starter, but he had a few good relief innings left in him.

“No,” he finally muttered. “But that doesn't mean I won't. Teams are always looking for relief pitchers.”

God, he sounded pathetic. But it was true: Any day now his agent could call with an offer, and when that happened, he needed to be ready.

“Okay.” Jessie drawled the word out three times as long as normal. “So why can't you stay here until your agent calls with an offer? Tell this Foster guy that given the circumstances, you need time to consider your options,
which you do,
and while the three of you weigh those options, you can get to work on our list of to-dos.”

“But—”

“If we do that,” Ronan interrupted, speaking slowly, as though testing the waters, “we'd be giving Foster the perfect excuse to take his money to the Hewett's place over on Langara. It's been for sale for a while now; it's bigger, it's easier to get to, and with that spa they just put in they can cater to more people than just those looking to fish.”

“So what?!” Jessie surprised even herself with that outburst. “We're not a spa-type place, Ro. If that's what this Foster guy is looking for…Wait—you guys aren't actually considering selling this place, are you?”

Not a single one of them seemed to be able to answer that with any certainty. After a few seconds, Liam set his beer down and crossed his arms tight over his chest.

“I don't think we
want
to sell, but before we send Foster packing, we need to figure out exactly what it is we
do
want.”

“I don't want to sell.” Ronan didn't hold Liam's gaze very long before tipping his head at Finn. “What about you?”

A sigh, then a slow shake of the head, but that was as much as they got out of Finn before Ro cleared his throat and seemed to force himself to look back at Liam.

“Jessie's right. You could stay here until you hear from your agent and we'll find a couple people to help you get through the fix-it list before the season starts.”

“Yeah?” Liam snorted. “Who? All our regulars are gone and anyone else worth having has already signed on somewhere else.”

“I don't know, but there has to be someone.”

“And what about when the season starts? I can't run the boats by myself.”

Ro didn't even hesitate. “Finn's working twenty-in-ten-out at the mine, so he can come back when he's not on shift.”

Finn's head bobbed in a brief nod. “I'm gonna put my place on the market. Soon as it sells, I'll be back permanently.”

Ro's face clouded slightly before cocked his jaw. “I've got holiday time in August, so I can come back then too.”

“Perfect!” Jessie slapped her hand flat against the bar. “People will love that Jimmy's boys are going to keep the place running.”

“Hang on,” Liam said, setting his glass down. “Assuming flights out of the mine don't get weathered in and Finn can get back for his days off, that only gives us ten days a month with a second boat until Ro gets his holidays or Finn sells his house. Unless things have changed, we're going to need at least one more full-time guide, plus someone to do it part-time when Finn's not here. And who's that going to be?
Jessie?
”

The look she shot him was a breath shy of lethal, but she knew he had a point. Jessie was irreplaceable at The Buoys; she could cook, clean, do construction, keep the books, and gut and package fish with the best of them. What she couldn't do was get out on the water. Just thinking about it was usually enough to send her into a full-blown anxiety attack.

With a lift of her chin, she sniffed slightly. “I'll find people.”

Liam's hesitation wasn't that he doubted Jessie, because God knew she'd proven year after year that she could find people to work for Da. It wasn't because Liam was adverse to a little hard work, and it wasn't because he was waiting for his agent to call with a new deal (but if that happened, he'd be gone like a shot).

No, he hesitated because he was terrified of letting them all down.

Ronan, being first born, had always been Da's right hand, the one the old man always turned to first when he needed help with anything, and Finn…well,
shit
…he'd always been the fish whisperer out on the boats, even as a kid. But Liam had never been really good at any of it, which was why he spent so much of his time playing ball.

That, and because playing ball got him away from the old man's moods.

It wasn't that Liam couldn't do the work and it wasn't even that he was a horrible fisherman, because he wasn't. He could do everything that needed doing at The Buoys; he just couldn't do it as well as the other two. If any of them could screw this up, or send guests home either pissed off or without reservations for next season, it'd be him, and then what?

No matter how hard Liam tried, he'd never be able to run the place the same way Da did, and that in itself might be enough for their regulars to take their money to any one of the other fishing lodges along the coast—there were certainly plenty to choose from.

If The Buoys lost their regulars, they'd be in deep shit, and it'd be Liam's fault. And what happened if his agent called with an offer? The thought hadn't even finished forming before a sharp slice of guilt ripped across his gut, forcing him to drop his chin to his chest and sigh.