12

Amy slid a strand of hair through her fingers. “You’ve surprised me, Logan,” she said. “I thought you wanted to talk about a client.”

“I do. At least, I did.” Logan’s fingers caressed the nape of her neck. “But since we’re both unattached, maybe the timing is finally in our favor.”

Confused thoughts whirled around her head, around her heart. If Gabe hadn’t come back to Whisper Lane, she’d have agreed to going out with Logan. To exploring a potential relationship with him. Even now, circumstances being what they were, maybe she should. He could be exactly what she needed—a distraction from the man she wanted but her torrid past wouldn’t allow her to have.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Life seems a bit too complicated right now to be involved with anyone.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“Let’s talk about why you called me.”

He held her gaze, then slowly nodded. “Okay. I wanted to say thank you.”

“For what?”

“I was a beneficiary of your, what shall we call it? Your sudden departure. A few of your clients weren’t willing to stay with your old firm after you left, and they went knocking on other doors. Including mine.”

“Who in particular?”

“Dylan Tapley.”

“Um.” She nodded slowly, dispassionately, while her stomach roiled at the mention of Dylan’s name. He had blamed Amy when his grandiose plans for an upscale private retreat had failed, and they’d exchanged heated words the last time they spoke.

She forced a smile. “I wish you luck with him.”

“I told him you’d done everything you could for him. That it wasn’t your fault.”

Maybe not. But neither was she entirely blameless. Dylan had hired her to get the necessary waivers and permits for his development before the passage of a controversial federal initiative to control runaway development in a geographical area southwest of Columbus. Dylan’s property was in that zone.

Amy had taken Dylan’s money even though she knew what few others did—a secret coalition had worked to fast-track the initiative and approval was imminent. Once it went through, governmental restrictions protected most of the acreage from the type of development Dylan had planned.

Neither Dylan nor Logan knew of Amy’s deceit. She meant to keep it that way.

“He took a risk, and he lost money,” she said. “Hopefully he learned from his mistakes.” Just like she had. Or at least was trying to.

“He said that when the initiative passed, you wanted him to buy land around here.”

“I tried to pull together two or three local landowners, but the whole thing fizzled.” Not quite the whole truth, but close enough. Besides, Logan probably knew more details than he was letting on. “There’s plenty of land in central Ohio for what Dylan wants. I’m surprised he hasn’t already acquired something.”

“He wants to build in Glade County. Not just a resort either, but a mixed-use development. Houses, condos, stores. Restaurants. Maybe even a movie theater.”

“That is ambitious.”

“It’s the silver lining of the federal initiative,” Logan said. “With all that land off-limits, developers need to look farther out. But this county is still within commuter distance to the capital. Dylan is getting a head start.

“If you want, I can ask Brett if he knows what’s available. Though rural farmland isn’t his specialty.”

“Dylan has already selected the land he wants.”

“Then what do you want from me?”

“A little history.” Logan took a deep breath, as if reluctant to continue the conversation. Amy braced herself, certain she didn’t want to either. “One of those local landowners you mentioned is your cousin, isn’t it? AJ Sullivan.”

“Yes.” Her tone was brisk, professional. “But now that land is owned by a foundation with a name longer than your arm.”

He chuckled. “I saw it in the public records. But here’s what I don’t understand. Since your cousin didn’t want the land anymore, why didn’t he let you take control of it? He’d have walked away with a lot more money than he got from that lease agreement he entered into.”

“He wanted to protect it from people like Dylan.”

“But you were the one who brought it to Dylan’s attention.”

Amy carefully considered her response, trying to calculate three steps ahead to what Logan truly wanted, what she could say, and what she should keep to herself.

Almost a year had passed since that whole debacle. Why couldn’t the past stay in the past?

Finally she gave in to her exasperation. “If this was anyone but you, we would not be having this conversation.”

“I know. But you have to understand how important this is to me. Having Dylan as a client is a game changer.” Logan paused, took a deep breath, and smiled broadly. “I’ve gone out on my own.”

Amy widened her eyes. “You’re not with Kennedy and Gaines anymore?”

“I hung out my shingle about three months ago. Right now, Dylan is my most important client. He’s ambitious, shrewd. Best of all, he has connections.”

“You mean his uncle.”

Logan nodded. “If Dylan pulls off the first phase, his uncle will help bankroll the rest. And probably give Dylan a vice-presidency in his company.”

“And as Dylan rises, so do you.”

“It never hurts to have a wealthy benefactor. I have a few dreams of my own, you know.”

“Political office?”

“When the time is right.”

Amy sipped her drink, her gaze focused on the opposite storefronts. An insurance company, a florist, a bakery. The staples of any small town.

Joseph Tapley, a bachelor with a handful of nephews, had a reputation for dangling his money and promises of power in front of each of them. The upscale resort had been Dylan’s first major project, and his failure had infuriated his uncle.

“Why did you tell Tapley about your cousin’s property?” Logan asked.

A straightforward question with a straightforward answer. “Dylan needed a Plan B. Property that could be quickly negotiated and settled. AJ had never wanted that land, so it should have been a win-win. But I was mistaken.”

“He’d already signed the lease agreement?”

“That’s right.”

“But you thought the lease was illegal?”

“It was AJ’s land. He could do what he wanted with it.”

“Then why did you file the lawsuit?”

Her building frustration threatened to blow. She focused on breathing, willing herself to stay calm. Logan was a friend, not a rival nor an enemy. And she’d shut the door on this part of her past. No one could force it open again unless she let them.

“What I did was wrong, and AJ has forgiven me. It’s over.”

“I think you were right to file the lawsuit. Your mistake was in withdrawing it.”

Amy stared at him. His words were like the ripping of a bandage from a wound that hadn’t healed. During a family therapy session, she’d apologized to AJ and Shelby for what she’d done. They’d been gracious and forgiving. But Amy had threatened Shelby’s dream of raising her children in her grandparents’ home. Even though everything had worked out, could Shelby ever truly forgive Amy for making her life miserable during that time?

“Winning the lawsuit wouldn’t have helped Dylan,” she said. “The Misty Willow acreage wasn’t enough for his project. The other owners wouldn’t have sold their farms no matter how much Dylan offered them. People around here”—she gestured widely—“they’re sentimental about their land. They don’t sell unless they’re backed in a corner.”

Logan nodded in understanding. “I did a property search. AJ didn’t donate all of the Misty Willow land to the foundation.”

“That may be. I don’t really know. He probably held on to acreage back by the creek, where the willow is located. Shelby’s ancestors carved their initials in the trunk, so it’s special to her.” Amy focused on a couple of squirrels playing among the bushes between the pathways. “They spend a lot of time back there. Picnics, fishing. That kind of thing.”

“He also inherited land from your grandmother,” Logan said quietly, as if thinking aloud.

“That’s right. I live in the cottage and he lives in the bungalow.”

“Dylan wants it. All of it.”

“Well, he can’t have it.” Indignation tightened Amy’s chest. “AJ wouldn’t sell Misty Willow, a property he cared nothing about till Shelby showed up. Do you really think he’d sell his inheritance from our grandmother?”

Logan ignored her question. “Do you know Tess Marshall?”

“Dylan wants her land too?”

“He’s made her an offer.”

“She won’t sell. The stables mean too much to her.”

“Maybe. But she hasn’t said no. Besides, there are other ways to get land than through a sale.”

“You mean by eminent domain? You can’t be serious. There aren’t any legitimate grounds for him to pursue that option.”

“Your cousin would fight it?”

“Of course he would.”

“And what about Mrs. Marshall? Are her pockets as deep as yours?”

These days, that was highly possible. Though from what Gabe said, the stables weren’t in very good condition. What if Dylan made Tess an offer she couldn’t refuse? Then he’d develop his project north of the cottage and across the road. What a nightmare.

“Dylan won’t give up,” Logan said. “There seems to be something personal about all this—about his refusal to even consider any other properties.”

“He was livid when his property ended up inside the boundaries of that protected zone. Then the plan to acquire Misty Willow fell through. I filed the lawsuit to prove to Dylan I was on his side.”

“It’s too bad your cousin didn’t have your back.”

That was what she thought, but she didn’t appreciate someone outside the family criticizing AJ.

“He wanted to be a hero.”

“What does that mean?”

“It doesn’t matter.” But she couldn’t keep the frustration out of her voice. AJ had chosen Shelby over Amy, and though it still stung, she couldn’t dwell on old injuries. If he had leased the property to Shelby after he fell in love with her, Amy would have understood. But he hadn’t even met Shelby yet. She’d written him a letter, a sappy letter, and he’d fallen head-over-heels for a stranger.

He said Gran encouraged him to circumvent Sully’s will and lease Shelby the acreage. Maybe she did. Gran seemed to feel guilty about the way Shelby’s grandparents had lost their farm, about their premature deaths.

It’s in the past, she repeated to herself. And the door is closed on the past.

She needed to be thinking about today. And about tomorrow.

A tomorrow that might include houses and stores around Gran’s beloved cottage.

“You’d be doing Dylan a favor,” Logan said, “and me, too, if you talked to your cousin. Help us negotiate the sale.” His ingratiating smile sparked her ire. “Not that you need the money, but I’ll see you get a referral fee.”

“Dylan needs to find someplace else to build his project. We don’t want it around here.” Her heart pounded against her chest, and she took a deep breath to calm her rising anger. “And I’d . . . I’d clean toilets before I accepted a dime that passed through his hands.”