Homecoming Reunion (6 page)

So she finally agreed to go and meet her parents.

Larissa easily recalled that day. They walked, hand in hand, to her house.

When her father answered the door, the anger on his expression almost made her back down. However, he invited them in, but didn’t call Larissa’s mother to join them. Which puzzled her.

They stood in his study, her father behind his desk dominating the space.

In stumbling words Larissa told him she was in love with Garret Beck. That they were starting to make plans. Garret told her father that he loved Larissa. That he would take care of her.

Her father’s cold silence was even more frightening than his anger could have been. He finally asked about their plans. How Garret would provide for his daughter. Where they would live.

He grilled them for half an hour. When they left, Garret was shaken and pale. He kissed her goodbye and for a couple of days she heard nothing from either her father or Garret.

Then, one evening, her father called her into his office again. He told her that Garret had only dated her for revenge. That Garret’s mother used to work at the mill and had been fired. By him. Garret had never forgiven him and started dating Larissa to get back at him. She didn’t believe him.

Then her father told Larissa about the money he had offered to Garret to stay away.

He showed her a check he had made out for ten thousand dollars to Garret Beck. Cashed.

The next day Garret had the nerve to come to the house but she refused to talk to him. Next thing she heard was Garret had enrolled in college in Vancouver, a thousand miles away. Obviously her father’s money had helped pave the way for that particular opportunity.

She never mentioned Garret again and neither did her parents.

The memory still stung, Larissa thought, resting her elbows on the counter, wishing, again, that her mother was still alive. Wishing she had someone who she could talk to about this.

Garret had been a vague shadow, hovering on the periphery of her consciousness for the past ten years, his betrayal creating a distrust of men for many years afterward.

Now he was back and might be about to become her boss.

A cold finger slid down her spine. What was she going to do about that? She didn’t want to have anything to do with him.

And will you manage that? He could end up being your father’s newest partner.

She could quit. Find another job. Work somewhere else.

And what about the inn? What about your plans for that?

She pressed her fingers to her temples, making circles with her fingertips, trying to massage away the confusion and the pressure building behind her forehead.

Then the front door opened and she looked up expectantly. But it was just her uncle. “So, I think that went well,” he said with a satisfied smirk. Then he caught Larissa’s expression and his smile faded and he strode over to the desk. “Oh, honey. I forgot to ask you if you heard from the bank?”

She waved his question off.

“No. I need to know. Garret seems interested, but if you got approval, you get first crack at this.”

Larissa looked down at the papers she had left on the desk before had shown Garret around the inn. The papers she had spent so much time and effort getting exactly right. All for nothing.

“They turned me down. The loans officer said the financial statements weren’t robust enough. Whatever that means.”

Uncle Baxter lifted his shoulder in a shrug. “You know yourself the inn has been losing money. That’s one of the reasons I wanted to sell my share.”

Larissa leaned forward, her hands clasped on the desk in front of her. “We haven’t been doing enough here,” she said. “We need to fix things up. Put some money back into the place. Look for new business.”

Uncle Baxter pulled in a long, deep breath. “I don’t have the energy and your father doesn’t have the will.”

Larissa knew part of her father’s reluctance had to do with making changes to a place his beloved wife loved so much. “I think he’s too caught in the past,” she said looking down at her joined fingers.

Uncle Baxter was quiet a moment before clearing his throat. “Speaking of being caught in the past, how did you and Garret get on?”

Larissa squeezed her hands tighter together. “Fine.”

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you two, but I was under a bit of a time crunch. I’m feeling pressured right now.” He reached over and covered her clasped hands with his. “Forgive me?”

She pooh-poohed his question. “Nothing to forgive. We’re fine. It was just a bit awkward, but no, we’re fine,” she added, patting him on the hand.

Uncle Baxter leveled her a curious glance. “That’s good to know, because I’m sure he’s buying the inn. He just told me outside.”

Larissa could only stare at her uncle. No. This wasn’t good. This couldn’t happen. She couldn’t work with Garret.

But what other option did she have?

Chapter Four

“O
f course you have to buy Morrisey Creek Inn,” Hailey squealed, clapping her hands in delight, her green eyes glittering in the overhead lights of Nana Beck’s dining room. “Shannon and I want to have our wedding there. What do you think, sis?” Hailey asked turning to Shannon. “Maybe he could give us a discount.”

Garret grinned at his cousins as he leaned back in his chair. Only he, Shannon and Hailey had come to the little get-together. Hailey’s fiancé, Dan, was away at a conference and his daughter Natasha was staying overnight at a friend’s place. Shannon’s fiancé, Ben, was working at the hospital. Garret’s brother Carter and his wife had other obligations as well. Garret had hoped to tell the whole family at once, but he knew whatever he said here would be repeated to the rest of the family, posthaste.

He had waited until Hailey brought out dessert at the end of their little family dinner before letting loose with his plans. Hailey had almost dropped her plate of squares and cookies, she was so excited but Shannon had looked at him with her steady gaze, as if she knew the deeper implications of what he was doing. “What is your advice, Nana?” he asked, looking over at his grandmother.

Nana folded her arms, rocking in her chair as if thinking. “You know I’d love more than anything for you to settle down here.”

“We could have family get-togethers there,” Hailey added.

“The last thing we need is yet another place to get together,” Shannon said. “Between the ranch and Nana’s oversize house here in town, I think we’re covered.”

Hailey shrugged. “But still. That would be so cool. Though it could use a bit of sprucing up.” Her eyes got big and a smile split her face. “We could have a painting party. Wouldn’t that be great?”

“Only you would consider painting fun,” Shannon groused. “Besides, Garret would have to run that idea past his partner.”

Hailey frowned as if finally realizing what Garret knew Shannon had figured out a few sentences back. “That’s right. Larissa Weir’s dad owns that place now, doesn’t he? Since Mrs. Weir died?”

“Larissa’s father and her uncle are equal partners,” Garret said, reaching for a cookie. “I would be buying out Baxter Lincoln’s share.” He didn’t tell them about Larissa’s two percent share. No sense complicating matters.

“So that means you would be working with Jack Weir?” Shannon asked, her quiet question underlining his own qualms about his business plan.

“To a point. I understand he’s left most of the day-to-day running of the inn to his daughter, Larissa, who manages it.”

“Would you be able to work with your old girlfriend?” Nana asked.

“Yes. Emphasis on old,” Garret mumbled around the cookie he had just taken a bit of. “Almost ten years ago.”

“I can’t believe she’s still single,” Nana was saying.

“I heard she was dating Pete Boonstra,” Shannon said.

“Property Pete?” Hailey laughed. “That’s been over for months.”

“That’s funny. He came into the hospital the other day and when I asked him about Larissa he made it sound like they were still an item.”

“He wishes,” Hailey retorted, inspecting a cookie she had taken off the plate. “I’m fairly sure Larissa was the one to break things off. I heard her say something to her friend Alanna about it at Mug Shots when Dan, Natasha and I were there awhile back.” Hailey and her fiancé Dan frequently took Dan’s daughter, Natasha, out for lunch at Mug Shots which kept them current on local news.

“But now, Garret, when you first came to town I understood you were buying part of the sawmill,” Nana said, touching his arm with her hand, corralling the conversation. “I didn’t think you were interested in running an inn?”

Garret gratefully pulled his attention away from his cousins’ hashing out of the whys and wherefores of Larissa’s love life. He was more interested than he should be. “Baxter changed his mind about selling me the mill shares and offered this instead,” he said to his nana. “The inn is a good investment. It needs a lot of work, but I think with some improvements and a bit of publicity, business could pick up. I could turn around and sell my share for more than I paid for it if that happens.”

“And then what would you do?”

“Baxter said he might be willing to sell his shares in the mill in the future. I wouldn’t sell my shares of the inn until that opportunity comes up.”

Nana’s deliberate nod accompanied by a frown seemed to say she wanted to understand what he was planning, but wasn’t sure she liked it. “So have you prayed about this?” she added.

Her gentle question dove into his soul, laying bare the emptiness of his spiritual life. “No. I haven’t.”

He wasn’t sure he wanted to bother the Lord with his business dealings when he hadn’t spoken to Him about any other part of his life.

Nana reached over and laid her hand on his arm. “Then I will,” she said quietly. “You know I’ve always prayed for you? Ever since your mother came to the ranch, rejected by your father, expecting you and your brother, you’ve been in my thoughts and prayers.”

He looked into his grandmother’s blue eyes so like his mother’s and he nodded. “I know, Nana.”

“And I’ll continue to pray for you,” she said, squeezing his arm like a small benediction.

The thought warmed his heart.

Because he knew, if he bought this inn and had to work with Larissa Weir, he would need many prayers to keep himself from making the same mistake he had when he was younger.

His mother crying in the kitchen after she had gotten fired from working at the mill, Larissa choosing her father over him. And later, letting people take advantage of him on some of his jobs—all of that had taught him one important lesson.

You couldn’t depend on other people. You had to take care of yourself.

And when it came to Larissa Weir, he had to be extra careful. Because, somehow, she had managed to maintain her hold of a piece of his heart.

* * *

“So looks to me like the inn has been posting steady losses,” Garret said, glancing up from the statements sitting on the table in front of him. “I’m surprised. It seemed to be busy all the time when I lived here.”

Larissa nodded, his comment underlining her own concerns about the inn. She could probably recite the profit and loss statement by heart. She and Orest had gone over them extensively before she went to the bank.

Garret drew his lip between his teeth as he rolled up the sleeves of his blue chambray shirt, as if getting ready to do some hard work. “So what do you think needs to change to make the inn stop bleeding red ink?”

“Win the lottery,” she said, resting her elbows on the large wooden table of the inn’s office.

It had been only been four days since Garret had come to the inn, looking to buy it.

Now he was her father’s partner and no sooner had the ink dried on the agreement than Garret called a meeting with her. As a result, she and Garret had been sitting in the inn’s office since 6:30 a.m., looking over the financial statements. Orest couldn’t come though, citing a previous obligation.

It was only 7:30 a.m. and Larissa was already rethinking the silk shirt, pencil skirt, panty hose and high heels she had put on when she got up at the ridiculous hour of 5:00 a.m. to make it here on time. Most of her morning had been spent deciding what to wear. She had wanted to project a businesslike demeanor.

Impress the new boss.

Instead she fought the urge to push off her shoes, run to the bathroom and strip off the hose.

A movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. She shot a quick glance over her shoulder and noticed that Les’s group was checking out.

She had been worried about those customers since the first day they came in, but Garret had defused that situation and as a result they had been on their best behavior.

Larissa reluctantly accepted that having a male partner who was involved in the business and who would be here every day was an advantage.

“Lightning striking the inn and collecting insurance would be a more likely scenario,” Garret was saying.

“I was kidding,” she replied, pulling her attention back to him.

“So was I.” He picked up the papers again just as she reached for them. He jerked his hands back as she fought her own reaction. Then clenched her teeth. She had to, like her uncle had counseled her, get over it.

Easier said than done,
she thought, wondering why Garret still had such a profound impact on her.

“I had a few ideas but my father never wanted to implement them,” Larissa said, aiming for a more casual tone.

Garret leaned back in his chair frowning at the papers he held. “What were some of the things you wanted to do?”

Her thoughts cast back to Garret’s reactions to the state of the inn and inwardly cringed again. Though the worn-out appearance of the inn wasn’t her fault, she still felt responsible. “Change the locks on the doors, like you suggested. Replace the carpeting, modernize the bathrooms, get new furniture and bedding for the rooms.” She had a five-page itemized list of things she wanted to do to bring the inn back to the glory days when her grandfather owned it. “When my mother inherited the inn she didn’t want to change it. She had grown up here and loved it the way it was. Then, after a long illness she died, and my father was even more reluctant to change it.”