Chapter Fifteen

KENDALL AWOKE EARLY, DISORIENTED. Where was she? Why was there something hard and wet poking into her cheek?

Groggily, she lifted her head and the details of her room in the B and B filtered in. One look at herself answered the second question. She was still in her clothes from the night before, and the hard thing was the edge of her laptop, now covered in soggy lettuce from the abandoned sandwich wrapper beside it on the bed.

She groaned, remembering. She’d been up late researching the provenance of the pieces they’d cataloged from Connie Green’s house, and somewhere along the line, she must have collapsed in an exhausted stupor. Her eyes felt gritty and her mouth tasted like stale onions. She glanced at her watch. Six a.m. That explained why it was still dark out.

Of course, Gabe wouldn’t be over at Lakeshore until later, so there would be no one to know if she caught another couple hours of sleep. But she had way too much work for that. So far she’d managed to avoid going through anything personal in the house beyond a very eclectic CD collection, but as they moved to the upper rooms, she knew that would come to an end. Clothes and other personal belongings, maybe memorabilia. She wasn’t sure if she wanted Gabe there for support or if she wanted to be alone in case it turned out to be too much for her.

That brought her back to the memory of last night and how abruptly she had shut Gabe out. Guilt tightened her chest. He had only been trying to help, and she’d practically turned on him.

Except there was no reason to let him in. He was helping her because their interests aligned. However kind and understanding he might be, he had a job to do and so did she. There was no room for personal feelings.

She groaned and levered herself off the bed. First a shower. Then coffee. Then she could worry about the rest.

By the time she was showered and dressed, the sun had just started to peek over the horizon. She packed her laptop and her personal items into her tote, pulled on her jacket, and carefully made her way down the B and B’s staircase. She’d told Mr. Brandt that she wouldn’t be needing breakfast while she was here—her waistband was already starting to feel a bit tight—but the smell of fresh coffee drew her into the kitchen anyway.

“Good morning,” he said when Kendall entered, not at all surprised to see her. “Sleep well?”

Kendall touched her cheek to check if the outline of her laptop was still pressed into it. “Reasonably well.”

“You can’t work on an empty stomach. Coffee is not breakfast, no matter what my grandson says. Here.” Mr. Brandt stacked sausage and eggs on what looked to be a freshly made English muffin and wrapped it in foil. “You can take it with you to Delia’s. She won’t mind.”

She’d only been here for a few days, and already her routine was that well-known? Or maybe it was just that everyone headed over to Main Street Mocha first thing in the morning.

“Thanks,” Kendall said with a smile, tucking the sandwich into an outer pocket of her bag. “I’ll enjoy it.”

Mr. Brandt waved off her words with his usual brusqueness. “How’s the work going over there?”

Kendall hardened herself, but the rush of emotions still surprised her. “Slowly. Gabe has been a big help.”

“You know, Gabe was pretty close to Connie.”

Kendall frowned. He’d never said anything about that. “Oh yeah? How?”

“She was his Sunday school teacher. Helped straighten out a bit of what had gotten twisted from the situation with his mom.” He looked at her significantly. “I expect he’s already told you about that.”

“Yeah, he did. Connie was a Christian?”

“She was. She was an elder in the church, taught Sunday school for years. She was a wonderful example to the town.”

“It figures. I’m glad she cared about something.” Kendall tapped her bag to indicate the sandwich. “Thanks for breakfast.”

Only once she was out on the sidewalk did she take a deep breath. It all made sense now. The paragon of Christian virtue had been shamed by her promiscuous daughter and either turned her out or made her feel so bad about getting pregnant that she left on her own. And then once Carrie figured out that she wasn’t cut out to be a mother, she’d cut Kendall free. Like an animal who chewed off a limb to get out of a trap.

To both Connie and Carrie, Kendall had been a necessary sacrifice.

She’d like to believe that she was just imagining this, but she’d had too much experience with Christian virtue to think otherwise.

The revelation soured her mood, but she let the fresh air and morning chill wash it away as she walked into town. By the time she made it to Main Street Mocha, the smile of greeting she gave Delia was almost genuine.

“Morning, Kendall,” she said. “What are you having?”

“Surprise me. The chai yesterday was amazing.”

“How about a Lake Fog then? My tea specialty.”

“If it’s caffeinated, I’ll take it.” Kendall paid, then found a table where she could continue the work she’d fallen asleep in the middle of.

She’d barely set up her laptop when a figure blocked the early morning sunshine. She looked up to find Philip Burton standing over her. Dislike instantly spiked through her.

“Kendall Green.” Burton pulled up a chair without asking and crossed his legs. He regarded her for a moment. “I was hoping I would have heard from you by now.”

“I’ve been busy. A lot of possessions to sort through at the house.”

“Understandable. I heard that the judge closed the probate case finally.”

Kendall cocked her head. “You’re well-informed. I haven’t even heard that.”

“I expect you’ll be getting a call from Matthew Avery sometime today. He might not even know yet.”

The dislike intensified. It was clearly a power play, meant to show her how well-connected he was and how small she was in comparison. It fired every stubborn instinct in her being. “What can I help you with, Mr. Burton?”

“Now that you’re the legal owner of the properties, I’m prepared to make you a very nice offer.” He took a notepad from his vest pocket and scribbled a number on a sheet. Then he ripped it off and slid it toward her.

$750,000.

She laughed, a genuine laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“It’s fair. The houses aren’t in great condition. They may look nice on the outside, but they need an extensive amount of foundation work due to the proximity to the lake. I don’t think you have the money for the repairs.”

“Maybe not. But I also know that the land is worth more than that to you. No thank you.”

He folded his hands, making a show of patience. “What were you thinking then?”

She opened her mouth to answer what she actually thought it was worth—a million and a quarter—but that wasn’t what came out. “Three million.”

The pleasant expression slid from his face. “Excuse me?”

“I’ve done my research too. I know what land would cost you in similar towns, and I know how much it’s going to be worth after you build the development. So if you’re in such a rush and you really want that land, it’s going to cost you three million dollars.” Kendall held his gaze, her expression blank, even though her heart was beating so hard she was sure he could see it through the puffy down of her jacket.

“Fine,” he said, and for a brief, shocked moment, she thought she’d won. Then he kept talking. “I offered you above market value considering the issues with the homes. But you’re not interested in doing business.”

“Not if you’re going to lowball me, no.” She forced a smile, hoping it looked calculating. “I’ll consider any reasonable offer, Mr. Burton.”

“That was the most reasonable offer you’re going to get.” He smiled too, and it chilled her. “I hope you don’t come to regret your decision.”

Kendall sat there stiffly and watched him leave the coffee shop. As soon as he disappeared from the frame of the plate-glass windows, she slumped in her chair. What had she done? She had potentially alienated the only person who was willing to pay a decent price on her properties. It wasn’t the $1.7 million she needed for her Pasadena home, but it was almost halfway there. She could do a lot with three-quarters of a million dollars. Her stomach churned with anxiety.

“Here.” Delia set a ceramic mug near her hand and then slid into the chair across from her. “That was something to watch. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone stand up to him that way. I mean, sure, people yell profanity at him, but that’s not the same thing.”

Delia’s humor cut through her numb sense of horror, and Kendall cracked a smile. “I don’t know what got into me. I just . . . I hate that guy. I have no real reason for it either. He’s just so . . .”

“Smug? Smarmy? Pleased with himself?” Delia cocked her head. “I guess that’s the same thing as smug, but it bears repeating.”

“I feel sick,” Kendall muttered, but she reached for the tea and tasted it anyway. It slid down her throat and left a warm trail all the way to her stomach, taking a bit of the nausea away. “This is good though. What’s in it?”

Delia grinned. “Trade secret. But mostly tea and coconut milk.”

“Well, your trade secret is delicious. Thanks.” Kendall took another sip. “You’re a business owner in this town. How do you make it all work?”

“That’s another trade secret, but it’s addictive and possibly illegal.” Delia chuckled when Kendall’s eyebrows rose. “No, I’m joking. Honestly, a lot of sleepless nights and prayer. I work hard and worry harder sometimes.”

The prayer thing snagged in her psyche, but Kendall let it go because she immediately knew this woman wasn’t cut from the same cloth as Connie Green. For all she knew, Delia was praying to Buddha. “Wouldn’t it be good for you if this became a resort town? A lot of people staying in hotel rooms translates to a lot of money for the coffee shops and restaurants.”

“Honestly, it would be. But I moved up here because I needed a respite from my life down below, from all the mindless hustle. The pace of life is what drew me to Jasper Lake, the fact that everyone knows you and has your back. You just don’t find that these days.”

“No, you really don’t.” The front door opened with a ding, and Delia cast a look toward the newcomers. Kendall waved her away. “Go. Don’t let me keep you.”

Delia stood but she glanced back at Kendall. “We’re still on for girls’ night, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Kendall smiled as she left, but the minute she was alone, the sick feeling came back. Telling Burton off had given her momentary satisfaction, but it was short-lived.

What had she done?