29

Morning dew covered Gavin’s work boots as he walked the front part of Sapphira’s property with the land surveyor. Gavin swatted at a mosquito. “Like I said when we talked last month, my goal is to divide the one large lot into two lots, giving each an equal amount of road frontage if possible.”

“That won’t be a problem. I called the planning-and-zoning department, and the good news is this property doesn’t have to abide by the new ordinances. It’s grandfathered in to the original zoning rights, and because it’s being passed to you through an inheritance, the original zoning laws pertain.” Tommy pulled a folded plat out of his jeans back pocket and opened it. “I studied this, and there’s a landlocked triangular piece of property at the back of the lot, to the side of the garden. It sits a little oddly, but I think that section is almost a fourth of an acre. Is your goal to make money or share the lots between relatives?”

Gavin’s hopes picked up. “Make money.”

“Then if you sold the piece closest to Fourteenth Street, call it Lot A, with a driveway easement to the triangular piece of property, you could divide this into thirds instead of halves. But the problem with that is you’d need to give ingress/egress easement through Lot A, and that would reduce its value, because it would mean less land, and the new owners would have to share the driveway with neighbors. Still, even with losing some of the profit from Lot A, having a third lot would be a bit more profitable.”

Gavin studied the plat.

Tommy folded it to show a smaller segment of the land. “The ideal solution would be if the fourth of an acre lot could tie its ingress/egress easement to the existing driveway that abuts the land that faces Thirteenth Street.” He pointed to it on the plat. “But people don’t easily sell rights to use part of their driveways.”

“My mom owns the property that abuts the triangular piece of land.”

“Then you may be all set.” He circled an area with his finger. “This is your mom’s land?”

“Yeah.”

“Would she be willing to grant ingress/egress easement rights to her driveway?”

“I’m pretty sure. Yeah.”

“You check into that. It’ll take six to seven hours to survey this before I begin the office work on it. We should talk again before the crew and I leave for the day. If she’s willing, I can handle all of that with a quitclaim deed and her signature. Then I’ll record it at the courthouse.”

Gavin held out his hand. “Thank you.”

“It’s your land. I’m just doing my job.”

“Yeah, but a third piece of property? I never considered that was possible.”

“It’s hardly worth it unless you can attach easement rights to your mom’s driveway.”

Surely Gavin could do that. He pulled out his phone and ran a Google search for what a small lot in this area would bring. He stared at the info until his lungs demanded he take a breath. If they could get an easement and therefore create a third lot, he might come within fifty to a hundred thousand dollars of paying back everything he owed. He could take out a new loan for that amount and pay off the entire balloon payment on his mom’s house and business equity and not have any remaining debt. He’d assumed all this time that best-case scenario was he’d have a certain amount of debt left over but it would be manageable.

He loved his mom, but he really didn’t want to live with her while helping her make payments that were so high they’d have to live frugally for decades.

A tinny sound of voices, laughter, and music caught his attention. Was that coming from Sapphira’s backyard? He went that way, opened the wooden gate attached to the hollow brick fencing, and saw the source of the noise. Tara was in an old Adirondack chair, under the shade of a live oak near the garden area where Sapphira’s property and his mom’s property met. A brass fire pit was sitting near her chair.

Tara was engrossed in whatever was on the screen of her phone, but it sounded like footage of her and her brothers doing something. They hadn’t talked since their time on the beach two days ago. She was usually away from the house, on her bike, possibly avoiding the Glynn Girls and him. But he needed to let her know about the surveyors. They were unloading and setting up equipment now. It wouldn’t be long before they came around the corner, likely startling her.

He strode toward her, memories flooding him. As a kid, he’d spent many a summer evening in this yard catching fireflies, running through the sprinkler, and poking the fire just to watch the sparks fly skyward. Sapphira hadn’t been a blood relative, but, nonetheless, she’d been his Saffy for as far back as he could remember, regardless of whether he called her Saffy or Sapphira.

“You need a fire and the fixings for s’mores.”

Tara looked up. “Start a fire now? It’s before eight and already nearing ninety.” She pressed something on her phone, and the noise stopped.

“Yeah, you’re right. Best to wait until dark,”—he glanced at his wrist as if he had a watch—“which is only about twelve hours from now.” He sat.

“Don’t you have demolition work you need to be doing?”

Usually when he came within ten feet of her, she either left or invited him to do so. Still, he had a feeling if they’d met under better circumstances, they would’ve hit it off. Or maybe he just wanted to believe she would feel for him a little of what he felt for her if the circumstances were different.

He brushed dirt off the arms of the chair. “I do, but I needed to let you know that three men are surveying the property today. You’ll see them within the hour, I think. I wanted to give you a heads-up. I’m kind of excited. I got some good news.”

“And you’re here because you need to tell someone and no one else will listen?”

He suppressed the grin her words stirred. “Exactly. You’re it.”

“That explains a lot about your pretending to be a roofer so I’d hang around.”

His heart warmed at her newfound ability to voice humorous sarcasm, but he couldn’t laugh about anything to do with that time. Not yet. It felt disrespectful of all she was going through.

“Yoo-hoo.” His mom waved from the back porch of her house. “We’re bringing coffee and food. Don’t go anywhere, either of you.”

Gavin looked to Tara. How would she feel about that plan? He certainly had enough work to do that he could leave and let the womenfolk gab.

“What are you looking at me for?” She raised her brows. “Oh, I get it.” Her eyes held a bit of amusement. “Fine. I’ll let you stay in your yard long enough to eat food your mom fixed. I’m nice that way.”

He laughed and waved at his mom. “Okay.”

“So why are they all off on a weekday morning?”

“The shop doesn’t open until ten, and some days they have work to do there hours before it opens, and other days they leave here seven minutes before opening time and arrive three minutes early. But a heads-up about tomorrow. They’re taking off the whole day to pack up Sapphira’s art room.”

“The Glynn Girls are growing on me. I was just curious why they were home. So what’s your good news, Gavin?”

Was she doing as well as it seemed? He hoped so. Oh, how he’d prayed for her. She would grieve hard for years to come and to a painfully deep degree for the rest of her life, but hopefully it no longer had total control of her as it did during the first weeks. Being well enough to go through the motions of life while grieving was a necessary step in the right direction.

“My news is that I just learned I should be able to get three lots out of Sapphira’s property instead of two.”

“That is good news. Congratulations.” Tara looked at Sapphira’s house. “I still find it sad you’re tearing down that beautiful old home.”

“Yeah, me too.” He interlaced his fingers. “But long story short, the Burnsides owe a lot of money.”

“With the third piece of property, will the finances still be short?”

“Depends on numerous things, but I’m guessing a little bit, yeah.” He figured probably fifty to a hundred thousand dollars short. But if that was all they still owed when everything was said and done, he could take out a new loan for that amount, and then he could once again afford a place of his own and help his mom make the monthly payment. When Tara first arrived, he’d been overly concerned about everything working out, but since then he’d been reminded that his troubles were just money. That’s it.

She fidgeted with the casing on her phone. “You could let me rattle that developer’s cage and see what comes of it.”

“I appreciate it, but I can’t.”

“Because of my brain injury? If so, I’m better and clearer with each passing day. I even know not to do stupid things like claim a man’s house.”

He smiled. “I’m glad to hear it. I am, but—”

“Your loss.” She shrugged. “Literally.”

Goodness. Whether chasing her down a dark beach, looking into lost eyes, or seeing her now—she was fascinating.

His mamas were loud as they came out of the house and crossed the yard.

“Coffee?” Sue Beth held out a tray of mugs to Tara and then to him. They each took one.

Tara leaned in toward him. “You’re being ridiculously stubborn, Gavin.”

His mom held out a tray with two plates, each with a bowl of grits and a bacon biscuit to the side. “I heard that.” His mom frowned, a hint of humor in her eyes. “Come on, Gavin, try to use the sense God gave you.” She turned to face Tara. “Don’t worry about him, sweetie. If he had an idea, it’d die of loneliness.”

Luella set a tray on a small table beside a chair. “Why, he could throw himself on the ground and miss.” She winked at him.

“He could what?” Tara laughed.

“Oh, she’s lying like a dog.” Dell reached in and pinched Gavin’s cheek. “Some might say if his brains were leather, he wouldn’t have enough to saddle a june bug, but I know better.”

The women were on a roll, clearly trying to entertain Tara at Gavin’s expense. He didn’t mind. But he needed to act as if he did, so he pursed his lips and shook his head. “And they say all of this without having a clue what’s at stake.”

Tara ate several bites of grits, taking in more food in this one sitting than he’d seen her eat since he met her. She set the plate on a nearby coffee table.

“Oh.” His mom blinked as she swallowed a mouthful of food. “I guess we did, didn’t we?” She made a shooing motion, as if that piece of info was unimportant. “But I have no doubt that Tara’s right and Gavin’s wrong.”

Gavin swallowed a bite of food. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Oh, honey, anytime, just anytime at all.”

“Regardless of what he’s done wrong, we can set it right through any means necessary,” Sue Beth chortled. “All y’all know that’s true.”

Gavin shook his head and leaned toward Tara. “You do realize what you’ve started.”

“I’m beginning to, yeah.” She sipped her coffee, looking rather smug about the whole thing. “But how was I supposed to know your mom’s hearing was that good?”

“Well, whether you meant for your words to be heard or not, the real point is, Are you enjoying our banter about it?” Dell gave a high five to the air.

“Yeah,” Gavin mocked. “Because if it opened up a line of insults for me and you enjoyed it, you probably just stumbled on the first step to becoming a Glynn Girl.”

“Julep!” Dell said. “Tell me he did not just say that.”

“Ohhh, son, you’re making us madder than a wet hen, and one of us is likely to cream your corn,” Sue Beth said.

They laid on the Southern sayings, and their accents grew thicker with each passing minute.

Tara leaned toward him. “Maybe having four mamas is a tad taxing.”

“Only Sunday through Saturday.” Gavin took a sip of his coffee.

“Gavin!” All four of them yelled at him, gasping as though he’d broken a commandment in front of the preacher.

“Ladies.” Tara spoke softly, and the group settled down. “Who has the phone number of the man who sent someone to pay for and get the shiplap but stole it instead?”

“I do.” Sue Beth raised her hand. “But, honey, we talked about this.”

Tara’s eyes met his, and he saw clarity and strength, and standing against her suddenly seemed wrong.

“Great,” he mumbled. “Just what I needed.” He raked his hands through his hair. “For all five of you to push me around.” But he was amused. “Okay. Contact him. But you don’t give your name or any personal information.”

“You mean like your house address?” Sue Beth asked. “The place he’s already robbed.”

The women chuckled.

“Hey.” Tara held up one hand. “Come on, now. Be nice…at least until I get my way.”

His mamas chortled.

Gavin suppressed a grin and mocked a sigh before getting serious. “Watch what info you share, Tara. And you send the picture to my phone. That way he won’t get your phone number. Your complaint to him won’t look as legit that way, but I’m not willing to do it any other way.”

His phone pinged with the image Tara had sent. Gavin saved the picture and attached it to a text to the man. Then he passed his phone to Tara. “It’s all yours.”

She smiled, typed a message, and sent it and the image to Roy Ashe. Gavin couldn’t make out all the words, but he knew she briefly explained what had happened that night. Then she waited.

The six of them ate and chatted.

“Tomorrow’s the big day.” His mom’s smile was sad.

“Because you’re packing up Sapphira’s art room?” Tara asked.

“It’s the day I go to the lawyer’s, and the house I’m taking apart officially becomes mine.”

Tara’s eyes grew wide. “You’ve been demolishing and selling parts of a home that doesn’t belong to any of you?”

“It’s mine. No doubt. But I started the work before the legalities were complete because the money I owe is due soon. I have a work crew coming tomorrow afternoon, and we’ll remove all the brick as carefully as possible.” Gavin hoped this news didn’t bother Tara.

Dell tossed her coffee onto the grass. “Out of respect for Sapphira, we’ve kept her painting room intact until the day the house is officially Gavin’s. Starting midmorning tomorrow we’ll go over each item, deciding to pack it up to sell or to keep.”

“That’s going to be a lot of work,” Julep said.

“I could help…if you’d like a hand,” Tara offered.

Her response was better than Gavin had hoped.

“That’s very sweet,” Luella said. “And we’d love your help. Gavin has a schedule to keep, and a bit of youth is just what we need to get the job done. He’s banking that the house will be ready for demolition day after tomorrow. The debris will be hauled off, the survey complete, and the lots put up for sale by this weekend.”

“That’s crazy.” Tara’s brows knit. “Who could get all that done that quickly?”

“Gavin.” His mamas’ voices rang in unison, and then they laughed.

Luella winked at him. “He’s been working on more than the demolition. Every aspect has been worked out in detail—like an Amish barn raising, only in reverse. He has crews for the big stuff, a lawyer for the estate issues, a surveyor for the land, and four women to pack up an art room.”

“Five,” Tara added.

The women cheered quietly, and Gavin couldn’t have been more pleased.

“The balloon payment is in two weeks,” his mom said. “So we’re praying that within a week he can sell what will then be two properties to a cash buyer.”

Gavin wouldn’t mention to the group at large about the possibility of the land being divided into three parcels. He needed to talk to his mom in private about that so the others didn’t influence her decision. Maybe she’d hate the idea of sharing her driveway with neighbors.

“Bidding wars are very likely to happen during that week.” Luella set her plate on a table, looking disinterested in food. “There’s no land left to sell on this side of the island.”

“But how do you go to closing on two pieces of property in a week in order to meet your balloon payment?” Tara asked.

“A couple of possibilities.” Gavin held up two fingers. “The buyer has available cash, or the contract is solid, and the bank will accept that and give me a grace period—as long as it’s under contract with real money behind it.”

“Wow, that’s a lot riding on everything working out with precision.”

“Gavin can pull it off.” His mom sounded like…his mom.

Tara ate a few bites of her bacon biscuit and then checked his phone. “Ah, he’s read the message. Now it’s time to call.” She placed the call and put it on speakerphone.

“What are you trying to pull, Gavin? I’ll have my lawyers—”

“Mr. Ashe,” Tara said.

“Who is this?” Roy snapped.

“The girl in the picture. Did your shiplap guy tell you I was in the house that night? And that he caused those bruises? That he shoved me to the floor before getting into his truck and fleeing with the shiplap from the carport?”

“Like I told Gavin, if someone stole that shiplap, I’m sorry. But it wasn’t me.”

“True. The man wasn’t you. But I can identify him. Then you’ll have paper and electronic trails where you moved money in order to buy the wood and then moved it back once you had the wood without having to pay for it. My guess is, once I turn over that picture to the police, a real investigation will begin, and it won’t take them long to locate the home where you had the shiplap installed.”

“Wait. Who is this?”

“The girl your employee used brute force on. That’s all you need to know. Ask him. I’ll tell you something else too. After I encountered your guy, Gavin had to take me to be seen by a doctor. A CT scan revealed a traumatic brain injury.”

“What?” The man mumbled something. “I knew nothing about…I need to call you back.”

The call ended.

Gavin wasn’t sure what had just happened. “What are you doing?”

“Banking that fear will do its job. I did have a CT scan the next morning after that guy pushed me around, and it showed a head injury. I didn’t lie. Mr. Ashe is calling the guy now to find out what took place. When he realizes his guy played rough, fear will do the rest, and you’ll get your money.”

Realization swooped through Gavin. “That guy assaulted you.”

“He was rough while trying to get past me, not bad enough to injure me more than a few bruises. But I wasn’t going to let him steal from my house.” Tara’s wry smile worked its way through Gavin. She was stronger than he’d given her credit for.

Guilt trickled into his consciousness. “Tara, I’m sorry. I was so focused on the shiplap and your need for me not to call the police that I didn’t do due diligence to ask and listen. I just wanted you to go to sleep and let me think.”

“I hardly knew what to believe about what I saw or thought to be true during that time. But feeling threatened—like when you chased me down the beach in your uniform, and that man twisted my arm and shoved me hard, and I smacked the floor? Those things are clear.”

Her strength and graciousness reached into his chest and plucked out his heart. It now belonged to her more than to him. “Still, I could’ve listened as if it mattered, even if it’d only happened inside your mind.”

Her lips pursed and she frowned. “That’d be weird. You were a stranger being kind to an intruder. All limits of what you should’ve done had been reached.” She brushed hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “But back to the subject at hand. When Roy questions his man who stole the lumber rather than pay for it, and Roy hears in the man’s voice that something happened that night, his fear of just how much proof we have and how badly this could play out for him will do the work for us. But you talk to him from now on. I’m out.”

Gavin’s phone rang, and the name Roy Ashe was on the screen. “Gavin speaking.”

“I won’t discuss this over the phone. I’ll meet you on St. Simons Island Pier tomorrow. Will two p.m. work?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not saying I was involved in what happened.”

“Of course not.”

Men like Roy never admitted to wrongdoing, even when the proof was overwhelming and a guilty verdict was returned. But Gavin believed the man who came to get the shiplap had intended to pay for it. He was an opportunistic thief, and he’d taken the goods wherever Roy told him to, probably ensuring a good-size bonus, while making both of them guilty.

“But I’ll pay you,” Roy said, “in exchange for you signing a nondisclosure agreement.”

A knot twisted in Gavin’s gut. If debt didn’t own him right now, and if Tara’s testimony would hold up in court, Gavin would press charges based on principle. But debt did own him. Moreover, if the incident went to court, a lawyer would destroy Tara’s testimony in a matter of minutes. She’d been very confused at the time of the incident, and it wouldn’t take long for any lawyer to prove she’d had a recent head trauma and thought the house was hers.

The knot in his stomach tightened. “You didn’t return my calls or texts the night of the incident, and I turned in a police report.”

“Yeah, I know. They’ve been here and questioned me. But none of that matters if you don’t press charges and you contact them to say it was a misunderstanding. Tell them you were gone during the time you were supposed to be there to sell us the shiplap. The man took the shiplap, and you’ve been paid.”

“So you want me to lie to the police to cover your backside?”

“Actually, everything I just said is true.”

“Except you had no intention of paying for the shiplap until right now.”

The line was silent for more than a minute. “I’ll add twenty percent to the price, and you and that girl sign a nondisclosure.”

“No. She’s left out of this.”

“Then your signature is worth nothing. She could turn around and sue my company after I pay you.”

“She won’t.” Gavin was sure of that. Her retelling events or identifying anyone during that time would never stand up in court. “But you’ll have to take my word for it.”

“Fine,” Roy snapped.

“And you’ll still give me the twenty percent increase.” But that forty thousand dollars above the agreed-upon price would become Tara’s, not Gavin’s.

“At the pier tomorrow afternoon at two.”

The line went dead, but Gavin’s heart soared. How was it possible he’d get paid for the shiplap after all?

Tara smiled, and he had his answer—one vulnerable, mixed-up woman who knew what she was capable of when no one else, including him, had a clue.