WHEN CALEB ROLLED up to the lodge’s job site early on Friday morning, he hoped he was prepared for an onslaught of both Callaways and reporters. Leading them through the lodge would be easy enough. Instead of falling behind schedule while Caleb had been stuck in Knoxville for the past four days, it seemed that Carlos had worked some kind of magic. The walls were fully framed. In his quick tour, when he’d made it back to Sweetwater late the night before, he’d found electrical and plumbing and the first rounds of drywall were up in some of the guest rooms on the second floor.
Had he actually been holding his crew back all this time?
Caleb shook his head as he climbed out of the truck, hard hat in hand. Carlos waved to him and trotted over. “Boss, good to have you back.” He motioned toward the lodge. “I hope you don’t mind, but I made a few changes. The progress on the cabins has slowed, but the lodge itself is ahead. I wanted to take advantage of the weather and the trades on hand. Next week, they’ll move to the cabins while we focus on interior walls. After that I plan…” Carlos slowed to a stop in front of him. “I plan to follow your direction. You’re back, right?”
This confirmation that Carlos was ready to lead was all Caleb had needed. He held out his hand. “This is outstanding, man. You’re promoted to lead project manager. We’ll talk to personnel at Callaway Construction to get everything official next week. The lodge is your first project. Make it a good one.” When Carlos gripped his hand hard, it was impossible to ignore the emotion on his face. “You do good work. Keep it up.”
Caleb slipped on the hard hat. “Show me what happens next.” This was the role he was going to have to get comfortable with. Supervising. Guiding. Less climbing joists and swinging hammers and more developing his people skills. He wasn’t sure how that would work out, but Senior had faith. Caleb would, too.
They were standing over the architect’s modified drawings, discussing the new finishes Caleb had requested to fit with his all-Tennessee plan, when the first news van squeaked to a stop. “Wave them in. Park them off to the side. When my family gets here, send them up to the front.” Caleb didn’t want his mother having to walk on the rocky, uneven ground any more than necessary.
Carlos nodded and trotted toward the van as he hollered for assistance. Caleb stared hard at the lodge plans and wondered if taking over Callaway Construction would mean losing the best parts of the job. Then he realized he’d always loved setting the parameters, establishing the rules for each build, the most.
This could work.
When the black sedan that had to be carrying his family parked in front of the lodge, Caleb wondered if he should have gone for the silk tie.
“Nope. No matter what, I’m not a tie kind of guy.” He hadn’t worn one in Nashville or Knoxville. When he moved operations to Sweetwater, they’d be polo and logo kinds of people. Goodbye, formal Callaway tradition.
His stepfather slid out of the sedan’s driver side and went around to open the door for his mother as Whit got out of the back seat.
Caleb tensely waited to see if Winter joined his brother. When Whit slammed the door shut, Caleb relaxed a bit. Did that mean the campaign to win Winter over had failed?
His day was sunshine and smiles at that point.
“Mama, I can’t wait to show you what we’re doing.” Caleb relaxed into his mother’s hug and then braced himself against the hard clap of Senior’s hand on his shoulder.
“You ahead of schedule now?” Senior asked.
Caleb nodded. “Yep. All I had to do was get out of the way.” He pointed at Carlos, who was directing a small line of news cars over to the side of the site. “That’s the guy who’s going to finish this up. Carlos was part of Summit, but next week, he’ll join Callaway Construction.”
Senior raised his eyebrows. “Cannot argue with this progress.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and went to examine the building.
“Wow. Pretty over-the-top with his praise, isn’t he?” Whit said from behind Caleb.
Their mother chuckled and went to join him.
Now that Winter was nowhere in sight, it was easier to welcome Whit. Caleb offered his hand and then stumbled back when Whit threw his arm over his shoulders. “We’re about to make all this work out, Cal. You see that, right? Mama’s going to be happy. Senior will be busy making that happen. Now is when we do what we’ve been waiting for.”
Caleb studied his brother’s face. If he’d been rejected a second time by the woman who he’d planned to marry, wouldn’t he be sadder?
“Where’s Winter?” Caleb asked, determined to stop waiting and get his life going.
Whit grinned. “I wondered where you stood. I mean, with her, it was kind of easy to see. She was annoyed about your confrontation. I knew asking you to bring her on board was a big job. I didn’t know it would get you into this much trouble. I hurt her feelings, but you… Man, you messed up large.” Whit squeezed his shoulder. “She’ll be here in a minute. If I were you and I were as desperate to fix things as you must be to come out and ask that,” Whit said with a shake of his head, “I’d be rehearsing the grandest of all apologies.”
The urge to knock the grin off his brother’s face was strong. Then he realized what Whit was saying. “You don’t care if I try to make something between us work?”
Whit stepped back. “I care because she’s the best friend I’ve ever had. Neither one of us was in love, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love her. You get that, right?”
Was he telling the truth? Caleb studied his face and couldn’t find a lie. “I do get it.”
The chug of an ancient station wagon interrupted them and the slide of horror across Whit’s face was enough to make Caleb laugh.
“That’s what she’s driving? Does it run on vegetable oil?” Whit muttered. “Has to be her mother’s car.”
Caleb crossed his arms over his chest as he watched Winter step out of the car, a black pantsuit her armor and a stack of bright yellow hard hats in hand. She marched up to them. Caleb tensed, ready to defend himself against whatever attack she might launch. Instead, she thrust a hard hat at Whit. “Put this on. Better optics.” Then she was off in pursuit of Senior.
Whit whistled. “Oh, man, you got a long road ahead of you, but I believe in you.” He thumped the hard hat on his head. “She’s worth it, too.”
Then he was moving toward the group of reporters gathering at the base of where the steps leading up to the completed lodge would be. Someday. Caleb could see it in his head.
“You ready to start the tour?” Winter yelled, her hands cupped over her mouth. Since she was staring at him, Caleb got the picture. It was time to make this happen.
“Yes, ma’am. Let’s start in what will be the grand lobby.” He pointed toward the end of the building that would have the most spectacular view down the valley toward Otter Lake.
Caleb did his best to charm the reporters while giving them information on the completion, the materials used and the Tennessee companies providing them, and the plans for the smaller cabins dotting the mountainside. This was his shot to convince everyone watching that the Callaways were building something meant to last beyond the reserve itself.
At the end of the tour, after he’d exhausted all of his facts and figures, Winter gathered the group right back where they started, at the base of the lot facing up to the lodge. “Before you all go, the Callaways have some information on upcoming events.”
Caleb watched all the reporters brace themselves, notebooks and recorders and cameras at the ready.
Then Senior stepped forward. “First thing, I’m announcing my retirement. That’s nothing important, but most of you have heard of Marjorie’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis. Something like that can change some priorities, so we’re going to focus on the Callaway Foundation for a bit. That’s her first love and she’s mine, so we’re pretty excited about that.”
Caleb crossed his arms over his chest, the blip of warmth at Senior’s words hitting him hard. He and his stepfather had been at odds, but the way he loved his wife was an inspiration.
Senior held up a hand to still the flurry of shifting and paper turning as the reporters absorbed his statement.
“There’s been some speculation about whether Whit would withdraw from the campaign. Dumb idea.” Senior shook his head in disgust.
Caleb turned to catch Winter’s reaction. Her wrinkled nose suggested she might have gone a different route, but no one directed Senior.
“Callaways are Tennessee. Have been since my great-great grandfather made it here and staked his claim with a few head of cattle and hard work.” Senior tilted his head up. “We’ve made mistakes, for sure. Top of the list is damaging our alliance with the Kingfishers, the family who loves the Smoky Valley Nature Reserve like home because it is home. We’ll be working to repair that, but first and foremost, I want to tell you about Winter Kingfisher. This lodge right here? It’s better than we ever imagined it could be, thanks to Winter Kingfisher.” He pointed at her and the crowd of news media followed. “She’s taking over as Whit’s campaign manager. And she’ll run it to win it. Richard Duncan ought to be shaking in his loafers right now.”
Caleb was grinning at Winter’s discomfort at unexpectedly being the focus of the media’s attention, when Senior added, “And all my life, I’ve been building Callaway Construction for my son Caleb. It’s his time to take the company where he wants. You will see big things, new things, beautiful projects like this lodge. Bet on it.”
Caleb gulped hard and did his best to remain expressionless because now the cameras were on him.
“That’s it.” Senior clapped his hands. “Total Callaway-Kingfisher domination headed your way straight from east Tennessee, as it should be.” He laughed, pleased with himself and how things were turning out. Somehow, he’d taken the whole mess and pretended it has been his plan all along.
That was a handy talent to have.
“Y’all have a nice drive back home and don’t forget the lodge’s grand opening in July.” Senior frowned. “Hey, before y’all go, what about running a contest to come up with a name for the new lodge?”
Caleb swiveled fast to see Winter’s reaction. She’d frozen in her tracks and was scribbling on her notepad. When she gave him a thumbs-up, Senior laughed like a kid. He was practically gleeful, pulling strings and making trouble.
Bailey Garcia ignored Winter’s shepherding hand and turned back. “Mr. Callaway, I have one quick question for you if you have the time.” She motioned the cameraman closer. Whatever it was, she expected it to be the best part of the news story. “When I was at the gallery opening last weekend, I noticed a connection between Winter Kingfisher and Caleb. Is there a new romance in the works? And if so, how is that going to rock the new version of the Callaway-Kingfisher alliance?”
The hush that had fallen over the crowd of reporters and the construction crews gathered to watch would have been funny if it had happened to anyone else but Caleb.
Since the question was one of those worrying thoughts that had floated through his brain now and then while Senior was drilling him on earnings and upcoming board meetings, Caleb might be the most interested person in the crowd at his answer.
But he wasn’t going to look at either Whit or Senior. If they lost it at this point, thinking he’d been flirting instead of doing what they’d asked of him to manage her, their fragile agreement could unravel in a mess of knots.
When the silence was too much, he chanced a look at Senior. His stepfather had rocked back on his heels and was considering the question carefully. His mother stepped in front of Senior. “Never ask this man feeling questions.” She smiled beautifully. “Every mother knows this, but we hope for the best for our sons. We want them to find smart, caring women. Winter Kingfisher is definitely that. We’d be happy to add her to the Callaway Sunday dinners again.”
“But on Caleb’s arm instead of Whit’s?” Bailey asked, following up. “How does Whit feel about that?”
Whit’s charming grin was easy, but Caleb didn’t envy him being put on the spot. “I didn’t expect to have to remind you of this, but the only opinions that matter are Caleb’s and Winter’s.” He wrinkled his nose. “Let’s be honest. In this spot, it’s really Winter’s. Caleb would be lucky to have her and he’s already dug a deep hole. If he can get out of that, I wish them happiness. She’s my best friend. Always will be. He’s my big brother. I admire him. Always have.” Whit shrugged. “We’ll have to see how this goes, but if we can’t all get along, I’m voting to keep Winter this time. The woman is smart, you know?” The arm he wrapped around Caleb’s shoulder had the right mix of teasing and affection. And if Caleb had to guess, the reporters were eating it up.
Winter’s expression was harder to read. She seemed…irritated. If he had to name it.
But she slipped on a professional smile. “Thank you all for coming. If you need to get in touch with follow-up questions about the lodge, please contact the ranger station. I’ll be sending out a press release about the contest to name the lodge. The winning suggestion will have a week’s stay at the lodge, a prize that should get people interested.”
Caleb couldn’t hear the rest of what she said, but it was impossible to take his eyes off her.
“Be smarter than me. Don’t mess this up.” Whit squeezed his shoulder.
“That’s it. You really don’t care if we…” Caleb wasn’t sure what to say. Fall in love? He might have already done that.
Whit was serious. “She deserves the best. I’ve always believed you were the best.” He shrugged. “Not sure where that leaves the rest of us, but we’ll figure it out. If you have the guts to go for it. She’s the one.”
Caleb chuckled. Winter was fielding questions and jotting notes as she went. None of the Callaways were worried about her control of the situation because she was the best.
What was he going to do to convince her that his stupid inability to trust her at her word was a momentary lapse?