AT SOME POINT, the half smile that had been appearing now and then, ever since the gallery opening, would stop surprising him. Enthusiasm for the day made it easy to jump out of bed Monday morning before the sun came up. He drove into town to make his now-usual stop to see Odella. The first warning he had that something had changed was her solemn expression.
“Mornin’, Caleb,” she said as she handed him his two-slice to-go bag. “Sure was surprised to hear the news last night. Hope your mama has some good doctors. Nowadays, medicine works wonders, I hear.”
Caleb slowly took the cup of coffee and slid a twenty across the counter. Since he had no idea what Odella knew or didn’t know, he murmured, “Thanks, Odella, keep the change.” He turned to leave and noticed everyone in the coffee shop watching him. He’d adjusted to being the center of attention, but there was something different about these stares. Instead of curious or suspicious, the expressions were somber, concerned.
When he made it back to the truck, his phone rang. “Hello?”
“Guess you heard the news. Headlines in at least four different newspapers about your mother’s illness.” Senior’s voice was gravelly, as if he’d been talking for too long already and was running out of energy. “She’s not doing well today. You need to come home. Get someone out at the site up to speed and come to Knoxville. We need to make some plans.”
Caleb had too many questions to ask and not enough time. “Fine. Let me talk to Carlos, make sure he’s got the work orders straight, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Caleb coughed. “How bad is it?”
The tense pause had him worried, but Senior said, “It’s nothing we can’t handle, son. Come home.”
Caleb ended the call and rested his head for a second. Both crews were going to be working on the lodge, completing the framing for interior walls and running wiring and plumbing as each section was completed. It was a terrible day to miss because all the moving pieces had to come together. That was Caleb’s talent.
Senior never skipped work. To call Caleb home meant he considered the situation there to be critical.
And then Caleb realized how the story must have gotten out.
Winter and Bailey Garcia and all those phone calls.
The interview that Caleb missed while he was chatting up Ash and Leanne Hendrix.
He’d assumed he and Winter had reached an agreement, but obviously he’d been wrong.
Winter had been biding her time to use her knowledge for her own benefit.
He didn’t have time to confront her, but her old station wagon was parked in front of Sweetwater Souvenir. Before he knew what he was doing, Caleb was out of the truck and stalking across the street. When he nearly flattened his nose on the glass because the locked door didn’t swing open, he forced himself to stop.
“Take a minute. No one should be surprised here. She’s been pushing all along.” Caleb braced his hands on his hips and studied the cracks on the sidewalk in front of the large plate-glass window.
Then the bells inside the shop rang. The door opened and Winter Kingfisher was framed in the doorway, as pretty and everything as she had been every single time he’d faced off against her.
Except this time, she’d hurt him in the only way that remained.
“What did you do?” he asked.
Her eyebrows shot up, the surprise almost believable. “What do you mean?”
“How could you have leaked this story of my mother’s illness to your friends in the media?” He squeezed his eyes shut as something clenched hard in his chest. “You and I understood each other.”
Anger, he could have handled. If she’d come back at him, eyes blazing and anger on her lips, he would have been fine. Instead, she wrapped her hand around his arm and squeezed. “I didn’t. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t hurt your mother. She’s always been kind to me. Tell me what’s going on, Caleb.”
“You don’t know?” He huffed out a breath. “How is it that connected Winter Kingfisher, the one who knows all the people there are to know to help the reserve, is out of the news loop?”
She held out both hands. “I’ve stopped scouring the news sites all day long for any mention of Whit Callaway to get over this. That’s how I don’t know what’s going on. It’s also how I’m moving on with my life, and for a minute there, I was happy to be doing so in a place where my path crossed yours, but I’m starting to have my doubts.” Winter propped her hands on her hips. “What is your problem this morning, Caleb Callaway? You went from kiss to kill awful quick.”
Caleb stepped back, unprepared for her to turn and go on the offense.
“It was one phone call. That’s all it took. This morning on the drive in, I had a stupid smile on my face thinking how I might set up some run-in with Winter Kingfisher.” Caleb pointed at Smoky Joe’s. “Then my father called me home. Because the news of my mother’s illness is hitting the front pages. She’s upset. And this lodge, the one I’ve been killing myself to get built at his direction, is suddenly less important. If you don’t understand what that means by now…” Caleb stopped. He couldn’t put it into words.
Winter ducked her head. “Okay. I get you’re mad and upset, but this is not me, Caleb. I didn’t. I wouldn’t. Why would I hurt her that way? Besides, I made you a promise that I was done coming after Whit. I trusted you when you gave me your word. You can’t do the same for me?”
He wanted to, but it was impossible to forget how fiery she’d been the first time she’d stormed his office or how she’d talked about how Whit had let her down. Then there was her meeting with Richard Duncan. “What if it was the only way to get your career on track?” Caleb braced himself. He didn’t want to go there, but he needed the truth. “Did you trade my mother’s secret to get that job offer from the governor, Winter?”
Her jaw dropped. “I met with him the day before you told me about Marjorie’s diagnosis, not after. And are you saying there’s no possible way I could get it otherwise? I mean, my education, graduating at the top of the class and my experience in handling all the communication needs for the reserve, or even my ability to move inside all kinds of crowds along with his number one challenger. None of that would work, but the ability to whisper about your mother’s diagnosis will open those doors right up.” Her lips were so tight that her smile was almost a threat.
“It wouldn’t be the first time you let a whispered secret do your dirty work for you.” Her gasp almost cut him off at the knees. He was mad enough to fight dirty, so he should go. Leave before he did something he’d regret forever. “I’ve got to get to Knoxville.” Why wasn’t it easier to leave her?
Because this was all wrong between them, but he couldn’t spend the time to make it right.
“Richard Duncan is every bit the kind of man you think he is. I have no doubt he’d love inside dirt, Caleb, but I’m not who you think I am.” Winter had followed him to the curb. She wasn’t yelling but her voice carried. The coffee-shop crowd was glued to the window. “The next time you see me, you’re going to apologize.”
The hurt over her betrayal was too much. Time. Distance. Room to cool off. That’s what he needed.
Caleb hustled to his truck and sped out to the job site, while he evaluated his choices on who to leave in charge. Ken Lowell had proven ineffective against Bailey Garcia, but surely he could handle twenty-four hours in charge. Reporters would likely wait for the media day to descend on the work site.
The media day.
The one Winter Kingfisher and her brother were planning.
Was that going to be a disaster, too?
Caleb was exhausted by worry when he got out of his truck. Both crews were working on the lodge in an effort to complete all the framing so the electrical and plumbing guys could start. By the time he had reporters at his site, he wanted people to be shocked at what he’d accomplished.
He wanted both Whitney Callaways to be impressed.
Caleb called loud enough that both Carlos and Ken heard and trotted over. He studied them. “I’ve got to go to Knoxville. Personal reason. I hope to be back tomorrow. Which one of you can do the job better than I can?” He’d never believe the answer, but the confidence to tackle the job was all he had to go on.
Carlos kicked a rock as he considered the question. “Not sure anyone can do it better, boss, but I’ll keep us going until you get back.” He met Caleb’s stare head-on. “Scratch that. We will. It’ll take us both. He’ll focus on the trades. I’ll make sure framing stays on schedule.”
Ken nodded. “We got it, boss.”
It was better than any solution Caleb had devised so he held out his hand. When they each shook it, he turned to go. “Call me if a crisis comes up.”
They both waved and he was soon bumping back down the gravel access road to the pavement. As soon as all four tires were on asphalt, he hit the gas. On a normal, sunny day, the trip into Knoxville was an easy thirty minutes. He’d cross his fingers and hope all the law-enforcement rangers and state police were otherwise engaged.
Twenty minutes was his goal, and the work truck shuddered to a stop three minutes over that.
In a second, Caleb was knocking on the front door, hoping his mother might open it, her normal smile on her face. Instead, a maid he didn’t recognize answered. “Yes, sir? How may I help you?”
The urge to move her out of the way with a firm arm was strong, but Caleb gripped his manners tightly. “I’m Caleb Callaway, here to see my parents.”
Instead of hurrying him on his way, she dipped her head. Her lack of urgency… Was it a sign that things were not as grim as he’d feared? “Of course, sir. I’m Patrice, your mother’s new nurse. They’re in the library. Would you like me to show you the way?”
Caleb paused midstep to study her face. Was she joking? “Uh, no, I know the way.” Her serene acknowledgment had him shaking his head as he trotted down the hall. Half a second before he shoved the door open, he noticed the clumps of dirt falling off his boots with every step. His mother would not like that.
Then the door was open. Senior and his mother were sitting on the couch, which had been moved to take full advantage of the sunshine pouring through one of the windows.
And Whit was nowhere in sight.
“Cal, come in.” Senior didn’t get up from his spot on the couch but pointed at the seat next to it. His mother straightened from leaning against his shoulder and patted the arm of the chair. From Caleb’s spot in the doorway, he couldn’t see any distress on her face. Instead, she seemed…happy. Truly content.
“What’s going on? I broke speed laws and good judgment to shave seven minutes off the drive because you had me scared.” Caleb dropped down in the leather armchair and tried to be grateful none of the dire possibilities he’d imagined were playing out in real time. “I left your precious lodge in the hands of foremen I’m not sure should be allowed to handle power tools.” Not true but it fit his black mood. He deserved some answers. “Instead of waiting on Whit to appear, tell me what’s going on right now.”
“I told you, you should have explained on the phone call,” his mother drawled and narrowed her eyes at her husband. “What if he’d been hurt because of the rush?”
Senior cleared his throat. “He wasn’t. You know he doesn’t listen under normal circumstances.”
Caleb fought the urge to slap his hand on the armchair. “Listen, I thought we had a crisis. Somebody start talking. For once, just once in this family, let’s lay all the cards out. What’s going on?”
“Watch your tone, young man. There’s a…situation,” his mother said sweetly, “but we have a plan in place to handle it.”
“Either I’ve been working too long and my brain is fried or you’re being deliberately impossible to follow,” Caleb said. “Talk or I’m loading up and heading for Nashville. There I will sleep for a solid week before scrambling to put my own business back together. I put it on hold for this, remember?”
Would he be able to carry through on the threat now that he was falling for the lodge and Otter Lake more every day?
If he had to. He’d learned he could do anything if the incentive was strong enough.
“Fine. Good idea.” Senior leaned forward. “Whit isn’t coming, anyway. He’s on his way to Sweetwater to deal with Winter Kingfisher.”
Caleb mirrored him, and was half a second from running back to the truck. “Handling” Winter Kingfisher was no job for Whit. One or both of them would get hurt. “What does that mean? Handling? I talked to her before I left town. She swears she’s not the person behind this story.” Did he believe her? Why couldn’t he decide how to answer that question? There’d been no lie in her eyes or her voice, but it made too much sense.
“She’s not the person behind this story, but I took a page from her book,” his mother said, looking relieved. “Your stepfather does not listen to logic or reason on some things. I am one of those things.” She smiled over at Senior, who had crossed his arms over his chest. “We’ve done things his way for long enough. Now, we’re going to try it my way. No more hiding or pretending. The Callaway family is going to be open and honest, with each other, and with the voters and neighbors of Tennessee. Life is too short for all this strategizing. My way will eliminate all that running in place.”
Caleb leaned back, speechless. What was there to say? Everything she said was true, but what did “her way” look like?
“I want Whit to run the campaign he wants, not what he thinks will win. I want to get out of this house. I want to see the lodge you’re building. The Callaway Foundation? I want to investigate the school projects we’re funding. And if I’m going to die, I want to truly appreciate every moment until then.” She gripped Caleb’s hand. “So, when a news reporter called to ask about my absence at the latest Foundation meeting, as if maybe there was some juicy news there, I told the truth. No more hiding. No secret maneuvers, not anymore. Nothing has changed with my diagnosis. The treatments are easy so far and I feel like myself, and while I do, I’m going to live my life. Senior is going to retire and help me do that.” She shook her head. “I wanted you here today because if I let him put this off, he’ll never make good on his promises to me. He loves Callaway Construction and politics and pulling the strings too much.”
“Not as much as I love you. Everything I do is for you. You know that,” Senior said. His gruff voice had a different tone than normal. And Caleb believed every word he was saying. “She outflanked me, Cal. Your mother zigged while I was watching for a zag, told that reporter everything and basically changed everything.” His disgruntled frown transformed into a goofy grin as his mother waggled her eyebrows.
“I’ve still got it. You retire. Let me take the lead for a bit.” His mother patted Senior’s hand cheerfully.
“Retire. So what does that mean?” Why am I here? That was what he wanted to understand.
“Callaway Construction. I’m stepping down.” Senior met his stare. “All my life, I’ve intended to hand it off to my boys. Now’s the time. Your mother saw to that.”
Caleb studied the dark red pattern on the rug under his dirty boots. “What does that mean? And where is Whit?” A bolt hit him. “You pulled me out of Sweetwater because Whit’s going to take over the lodge project?” Emotion hit before he could see it coming and he was up and out of the chair. “I’ve put in time. That’s my project!”
Senior blinked and faced his mom. “You were right.”
“Of course I was. All he needed was the open door.” She crossed her leg slowly. “If any of you had listened to me six months ago, a year ago, we’d all be much happier at this point.”
Caleb bit his lip to prevent an angry interruption, but he could feel the tension in his jaw.
“Whit has his political career. He’ll continue to serve on the boards, but you will run Callaway Construction. It’s all yours. We have contracts in place that will have to be completed, but after that, you determine the direction of the company.” Senior’s lip curled up. “Take your ideas for Summit and make them all bigger because Callaway Construction can handle it. We have crews ready to go.”
The possibilities that immediately opened in front of him made his knees weak. Caleb collapsed in the armchair again while he considered what that would mean to his life. “From Knoxville? That’s where you want this to stay, right?”
Senior’s eyes narrowed. “It’s yours, Cal. Knoxville or Nashville.” He shrugged. “You could run it out of Sweetwater if you wanted to. With the right crews in place, you could do that. Callaway has some experienced project managers, but how big or small, whether you oversee every project or only what you want to, that’s all up to you.” Senior wrapped his hand around his wife’s. “There. I managed to say it. You thought I couldn’t.” The way they chuckled together made Caleb feel like an outsider looking in.
“The only thing I ask,” his mother said softly, “is that you make a place for Whit if he ever wants it. Politics seems like a calling, but even men with missions get tired of the work. He could be an asset to the business, as well.”
Of course he could. Whit could work a room of wealthy donors like a pro. Drumming up business contracts was only a small step from that.
“We’re going to announce this and some other changes we want to make at the media day at the lodge. That’s going to be the place where we do our celebrating from now on.” Senior tipped up his chin. “That’s where the Callaway family got its start. This lodge is going to be our future.”
They were both watching him but he wasn’t sure what to say.
“You don’t want this, son?” his mother asked quietly.
Caleb wanted to pace. Sitting still with all the pride, worry and passion tumbling inside him was too hard. Finally, he said, “This is what I’ve wanted all along. I never thought I’d have it. I didn’t measure up. As a Callaway.”
The glare his mother gave Senior was impressive. The only other person he’d ever seen use her eyes like a weapon in the same way was Winter Kingfisher.
“It was always my plan. I should have made that clearer.” Senior nodded. “I assumed you’d appreciate it more if you had to fight for it.” He ran a hand over his forehead. “That’s how my father did things. Obviously, we were both fools.” He smiled at his wife’s complacent nod.
And Caleb had to laugh. The chastised expression on Senior’s face was cute. They were cute together. Seeing them like this, away from the formal dining room, reminded him of the Kingfishers’ exchanged glances at the gallery. Someday, if he was lucky, there would be a woman who could see every one of his flaws, remind him of them with one cut of her eyes and make him better every day.
Then he realized what a mess he’d left in Sweetwater.
He should call Whit to warn him about his accusations that morning.
But every part of him rebelled at the idea of helping his brother win Winter back. She deserved more. They both did.
“You want to take a look at the projects we’ve got going, the proposals we have lined up?” Senior asked. “Sooner we start, the sooner your mother gets what she wants.”
Caleb smiled as his mother exhaled loudly. “I have a doctor’s appointment at three. Patrice will go with me.” She held up a hand. “You two talk business, but don’t let him convince you he’s not ready for something new, Caleb. Last night he booked us hotel rooms in New Orleans. Apparently, we’re going to start all this with the vacation he’s been talking about for three years.” His mother pressed kisses to both of their cheeks and left.
Senior covered his cheek with his hand. “Can’t lie. She’s right. I hope you’ll…allow me to be involved, but this is what I’ve always wanted. Sooner than I expected, but what I wanted. We had to wait for you to be ready.”
Caleb thought back to how he’d lived his life, dropping in and out of the Callaway unit whenever he pleased because he’d convinced himself no one minded. And they’d been waiting for him to settle.
“I don’t want to quit the lodge, Senior.” Caleb wasn’t ready to let it go. Not yet. “How can I do what needs to be done from Sweetwater?”
Senior tilted his head back. “Grabbed a piece of your heart, has it? There’s something in the air there.” He didn’t ask the question Caleb was most worried about. If Senior wanted to know if there was someone in Sweetwater, what would he say? How would the admission that Winter Kingfisher was the kind of woman he’d go to war over ruffle the new calm waters? And if Whit succeeded in winning her back, would he still pursue his own feelings for her?
No. Of course not. He’d admired her from afar. He could do that again.
“Got a list of all the projects and managers working them.” Senior pointed at the computer on his desk. “Do so much remotely that you could be in Timbuktu as long as the internet worked. Sweetwater is easy enough.”
Relieved at the open door Senior had left him, Caleb stood and moved behind the desk. “Let me see what you’ve got.”
Working with Senior was easy enough when they were focused on the construction projects Callaway had scattered all over Tennessee. Small builds, like houses, and larger projects, including a school outside Chattanooga—each one of them was interesting. He needed to visit all of them as soon as possible.
“I’ll be bringing my own crew in, promoting some of them to head up projects.” Caleb waited for his stepfather’s objections, but Senior nodded. “You’ll need at least one more solid project lead to take over the lodge. Hope you’ve got someone in mind.”
He did. As he paged through the spreadsheets outlining Callaway’s work orders and timeline, the sensation of falling into the spot he’d been meant for was impossible to ignore.
Only one worry remained: what to do about Winter Kingfisher.