Wildflowers from Winter (13 page)

“He left Evan the farm equipment.” Drew rustled through the papers and slid one from the stack. “It’s right here. The combine, tractors, hay mower, et cetera, et cetera.” He scanned the paper and picked up another.

Bethany craned her neck, trying to read the miniscule writing upside down from across the table, just in case this was a joke and what the paper really said was that Dan had given her the money in his savings and the old phonograph they used to play Christmas records on.

Drew peered at the paper. “He left Evan the horse and all his beef cattle. As well as the farmhouse and the surrounding ten acres.”

“What?” She didn’t mean to sound like a broken record, but Dan left the farmhouse to Evan? She turned to the man beside her, who sat with his hands clamped around the armrests of his chair. “Why would he leave Evan the farmhouse but not the farm?”

If Dan was going to leave Evan with something, the farm made so much more sense. So why had he given Evan the farmhouse? Why wouldn’t he leave that to her? She forced away the tightness in her stomach. She had
no reason to feel betrayed or jealous, if that’s what she was feeling. Sure, maybe at one point she had loved that farmhouse. Maybe at one point she had yearned for it to be her home again. But that was when she didn’t know any better. That was when all she had to compare it to was a worn-down hunk of metal plunked in the middle of a trailer park. Although her childhood eyes had seen the farmhouse as a mansion, filled with cubbyholes and crawlspaces, her adult self knew it was nothing but an old house in need of lots of repair. Not to mention it was in Peaks. What did it matter to her who her grandfather left it to?

Drew steepled his fingers. “I had a very lengthy discussion about this with Dan several months ago. He was very clear about who he wanted to inherit what.”

“Did Dan leave David anything?”

“He left your brother all his savings and the shares from his stocks. There’s actually quite a bit. He was careful with his portfolio.”

Bethany’s thoughts chased after one another. She tried to isolate one long enough to follow its course, but at the present, she couldn’t focus. She wanted to wake Dan up from the dead and ask him
why
. He never did anything without thinking long and hard about it. There had to be a reason he left her the farm. But all she could think was that it tied her to Peaks. Permanently. She didn’t want to be tied to Peaks. Not even temporarily.

“What in the world am I supposed to do with a farm?”

Drew leaned back, crossed his ankle over his knee, and shrugged. “You could sell it.”

Evan lurched in his seat. From the pained expression on his face, he appeared to be using immense restraint to keep whatever he wanted to say inside. She turned her attention to Drew and waited for him to elaborate.

“Land development has slowed down in the recession, but developers still seem to be buying around here. And from what I’ve heard, farmland is going for a good amount of money right now.”

Drew’s suggestion planted itself in her brain. The roots took and altered her thoughts, taking them in a direction she’d never considered before. “How much could I get if I sold?”

Evan huffed. “You’re not actually thinking about this.”

Drew let out a low whistle. “Five, six thousand an acre.”

Bethany did the calculation in her head. When she reached an answer, her eyes bulged. That couldn’t be right. She ran the numbers through her mind one more time but came up with the same figure. With five zeros attached to the end. Two and a half million dollars? Was this a joke?

Evan’s stare drilled holes through her skull, but the threat was nothing more than an echo of rumbling thunder in the distance.

“And because he left the farm to me, I’d get the money from the sale?”

Drew smiled. “That’s usually how it works.”

Bethany could have grabbed the lawyer’s face and planted a wet kiss right in the middle of his forehead.
Two and a half million dollars?
She could do any number of things with two and a half million dollars.

The loud scrape of Evan’s chair across the floor yanked her back to the moment. He turned his seat toward her, scarlet climbing up his neck and into his face. “Do you really think Dan left you his farm so you would turn around and sell it?”

Bethany’s composure faltered. She searched for some justification—something that might validate the possibilities swirling inside her head and combat Evan’s outrage. “Dan knew I wanted to be one of the best architects in the Midwest. He was proud of me. This could be his way of helping me reach my goals.”

Evan’s mouth fell open.

Bethany’s cheeks flamed. She looked away and pretended to care about the wreath hanging in the center of Drew’s office window. Evan might think her selfish, but wasn’t he being selfish as well? The only reason he wanted her to keep the farm was so that she wouldn’t put him out of a job.
Well, couldn’t he find another farm? There were plenty of them to go around. She gripped the armrests of the chair and fixed her eyes on Drew. “Who would I talk to about selling?”

“So that’s it? You’ve already made up your mind?”

Her grip tightened as she attempted to ignore the angry man beside her.

“A Realtor who specializes in selling farmland, I’d guess.”

Evan stood, toppling the chair. Bethany couldn’t help herself. She peeked at him. His eyes burned with an intensity that made her draw back.

“You and I both know Dan didn’t give you that land so you could sell it. Dan didn’t care about money. He cared about people. He cared about
you
. There’s a reason he gave you the land. And it’s not so you could make a profit and ride away on a pile of gold.”

Bethany lifted her chin. Easy for Evan to say. He wanted the farm. She didn’t. And even if what he said were true, she didn’t have time to sit around and learn whatever lesson her grandfather might have wanted to teach her. She was an adult with goals. Dan would be happy to know he’d helped her accomplish them. She refused to allow Evan’s words to water the guilty weeds sprouting inside her.

“Will selling be a problem when I don’t own the house and the surrounding acres?”

“Could be.” Drew tossed his pen on the table and shrugged. “I’m not sure. You’d have to ask the Realtor.”

“Wow.” Disgust saturated Evan’s one-syllable word. “You sure do have a lot of respect for your grandfather.” He strode to the door and stepped out into the hallway. “I’ll leave you two to talk business.”

The door slammed shut. Bethany jumped in her seat and looked across the table at Drew.

He twirled a pen around his thumb. “So what do you think?”

THIRTEEN

B
ethany stepped outside Drew McCarty’s office, an odd combination of excitement, guilt, and too much coffee coursing through her veins. Ever since Drew mentioned five to six thousand dollars an acre, her adrenal glands had kicked into overdrive. A dream ignited. If she sold Dan’s farm, she could use the money to start her own firm. Fighting for her job at Parker Crane no longer mattered. Why go through the hassle of renovating an old job when she had the resources to build something completely new? Something completely exciting.

Bethany let out a shaky breath, unable to suppress a grin any longer. No more spending time improving worn-out buildings in order to earn the respect of her superiors. Not when she had the means to jump straight to the top of the ladder—president and CEO of her own firm. Untapped vision burst to the surface, tempered only by the niggling guilt Evan left in his wake.

The honest part of her knew his accusations were well-founded. Dan poured his heart and soul into the farm. After her dad’s accident it was the only thing that kept her grandfather sane. The only thing that gave him purpose. He’d go out in the fields and stay there until dark, then come back looking better than when he left. Once, when she asked him why, he told her he met with Jesus out there. She remembered thinking two things: one, Jesus didn’t live on a farm, and two, how could the same Jesus turn her
mother into a lump of fright but her grandfather into a man of peace? When she’d asked, Grandpa Dan said it wasn’t Jesus who terrified her mother. He said it was Pastor Fenton. In Bethany’s young mind, the two were interchangeable.

She pushed aside the memory of Evan’s angry face before he slammed Drew’s office door and refused to give credence to the guilt fermenting in her stomach. Evan thought she was dishonoring her grandfather. But Dan was dead. Period. There was nothing left to dishonor. She wasn’t going to keep a farm and stifle a perfectly good dream for the sake of nostalgia. If Evan worried about being out of a job, that wasn’t a problem, was it? He had a head start. Sixty cows and a machine shed full of farm equipment. He could rent some land. Maybe better land than they had now. Better hay. Bigger fields. Maybe in a year or two he’d actually thank her. Maybe by then he’d be able to buy his own farm.

Forgoing the elevator, she descended three flights to the ground floor and found a swirling mass of white outside the windows. When she opened the front door of the building, a strong gust of frosty air whipped her hair about her face and assaulted her bare hands. She tucked her chin to her chest, stuck her hands into her pockets, and stepped onto a fresh layer of snow—almost three inches deep. She began to run in the direction of her car and didn’t stop until she spotted the silver mass a few feet away.

She flung open the door and ducked inside. She started the engine, cranked up the heat, and reached for her snow brush to remove the buildup on her car windows. When her task was complete, she dropped onto her front seat and rubbed her hands together, peering out the windshield into a blinding cloud of white. How in the world was she supposed to drive to Chicago in this?

Once her hands were dry and somewhat thawed, she fished her cell from her purse and dialed Dominic’s number. It was Sunday, so she was certain he would answer.

Dominic picked up on the third ring. “Hey. I was wondering when
you’d call.” His voice sounded higher than normal, like he was trying too hard. “How’d the funeral go?”

“It was a funeral, Dom. How do you think?”

“Right.” Papers shuffled in the background.

“I can’t wait to get out of here.”

“I’m not sure that’ll happen today. Not with this crazy weather.”

A gust of wind rocked her car. “It’s snowing in Chicago too?”

“It started a few hours ago. It’s pretty nasty.”

“Could you check the radar for me? I want to come home.” She ducked her head and squinted into the blur of whiteness. “But right now, I can barely see out my window.”

Dominic laughed. “I don’t need to check the radar. There are blizzard warnings spanning the entire Midwest. They’re calling for twelve to fifteen inches and high winds. Half of Chicago’s schools have already canceled class for tomorrow. You’re not going anywhere tonight.”

“Twelve to fifteen inches?”

“Welcome to winter.”

Bethany groaned.

Dominic shuffled more papers.

She wanted to tell him the good news in person, but she didn’t think she could wait until the weather calmed. She needed to talk to somebody about this right now. Somebody whose excitement would cut the thread of guilt stringing its way around her heart. Somebody who wouldn’t react the way Evan did. She took a deep breath.

“So I have some pretty crazy news.” They said the exact same thing at the exact same time. Bethany laughed. So did Dominic.

“You go first,” he said.

“I just met with Dan’s lawyer. He left me his farm.” Bethany paused, waiting for his reaction. When he said nothing, she went on. “It’s worth two and a half million dollars.”

“Wow, Bethany, that’s great. Are you going to sell?”

Was she going to sell? What kind of question was that? “Well, I’m not keeping it. That’s for sure. What would I do with a farm?”

No response. Nothing.

“I’m thinking about taking the money and starting my own architecture firm.”

“Wow.”

All kinds of hesitancy lingered behind his “wow.” “What does that mean, Dom?”

“Starting a business is a pretty big deal.”

“So?”

“Well, no offense, but do you think you’re ready for that?”

Her insides clamped tight. “I know plenty about architecture.”

“I know. But knowing about architecture and running your own firm are two completely different things. You were just laid off because one of Chicago’s most reputable firms is struggling. That can’t be a good sign, Bethany.”

The tightness spread to her jaw. He was squashing her hope, stealing away her vision. Why, just for once, couldn’t he be excited for her? “You don’t think I should do it?”

“Is that what I said?”

“You just told me I know nothing about running my own firm. So basically, yeah.”

“All I’m saying is, I think you should think about it. Don’t jump into anything without looking at all your options.”

“Please tell me you don’t think keeping the farm is an option.”

She could have wound the silence into a hundred spools of thread. And with each new spool, her heart beat faster. “What was your crazy news?” she asked.

“I got a job offer.” His voice went all high again, and the tone of it made her swallow. “As partner for a really great firm.”

“Are you going to take it?”

“I’m accepting the offer tomorrow.”

She ducked her head and peered out the windshield. She was trapped inside a giant snowball. “Dom, that’s great.”

“It’s in Atlanta.”

She blinked. “Atlanta?”

“I know. Crazy, right? I’ve never pictured myself living in Atlanta.”

He didn’t say, “I’ve never pictured
us
living in Atlanta.” Any excitement that had taken shape moments ago in Drew McCarty’s office leaked right out of her. Her lease was up in less than two weeks. Her boyfriend was moving to Atlanta. And she no longer had a job. “When did you get the offer?”

“Last week.”

“And you didn’t think to talk to me about it?”

“You’ve had a lot going on. I didn’t want to burden you with something else.”

“So you just left me out of the decision? How is that any better?”