His Winter Rose and Apple Blossom Bride (17 page)

“So what you’re saying is that we’re close, but still not quite there yet,” one of the councilors muttered.

“Yes.” She met Dylan’s glare, knew he was frustrated and felt a twist of shame that she’d hurt him. But if that’s what it took to defeat Wainwright...

“Okay then.” Dylan began taking down his work. “I’ll take that as a no. I should warn you that I’m not sure Wainwright is prepared to come back with another offer. We do not usually accept such a large amount of—er, guidance when we submit a project and we have already made a number of concessions to fit your needs.”

“I’m sorry we’ve been so difficult,” Jason chimed in.

Piper could hardly believe he had said that. She’d expected him to be furious but he looked almost resigned as he thanked Dylan for his work. As Dylan left the room, Jason called the meeting back to order and suggested they go in camera—retire to privacy where the general public was not present—to deal with the rest of the issues.

Thus excused, Piper left, caught up with Dylan as he placed his briefcase inside his car.

“You’re not in a rush to get back again, are you?” she asked quickly, needing to make him understand her position.

“Why?” He paused, turning to look at her.

“I put a chicken in the slow cooker. I thought you might share a meal with me.” She widened her gaze. “You haven’t eaten, have you? You never used to before a presentation.”

His brows lifted as if he was surprised she’d remembered.

“Come on, Dyl. It’ll be just us two. I’d like a chance to catch up with you.”

After several moments he shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

“Do you want to come with me, or follow me to Cathcart?”

“I’ll have to leave and for that I’ll need my truck. I’d better follow you. It’s been so long I’m not sure I remember how to get there.”

“You’ll remember once we get going.” She reached out and hugged him. “I’m across the street.” She pointed.

“You’re still driving that thing?” he asked, but a hint of softness lay underneath the words.

“I couldn’t get rid of my little roadster. Vance loved it. So do I. Besides, it runs like a dream.” She grinned, then hurried across the street, thanking God for the opportunity to reconnect with her brother outside of the business arena.

She drove quickly, eager to share what little time they had together. At the house Dylan told her he’d been up since five and asked if he could take a quick shower. By the time he returned Piper had everything ready.

“I remember this meal,” Dylan murmured as he served himself more of the golden chicken. “We’d come back here after church for Sunday dinner,” he guessed.

Piper nodded.

“Then you and I would run outside to play.”

“Yes.” She smiled at the memory of that happy time before her mother had died. “You used to tease me with garter snakes you found in Gran’s garden.”

“And you never told. Why?”

Piper shrugged, smiled. “I thought you wouldn’t play with me anymore and I loved playing with you. You were always the best big brother, Dyl. Nobody could have had more patience.”

He ignored that, concentrating on his food. But the furrow between his brows grew deeper.

“Why did you come back here, Piper? Why didn’t you sell the place and get on with your life?”

“I tried,” she told him honestly. “After Vance died I buried myself in work, took on way too much and pushed myself to keep going. But I lost my joy.” She pushed at the two peas left on her plate. “Gran and Papa were gone so I came back here, spent a weekend clearing out, dealing with stuff. When the day came to leave, I knew I’d rather stay. I felt a peace here, a certain comfort of happier times that I wanted to hang on to. So when I saw the want ad for economic development officer—” She shrugged. “That was my chance.”

“Dad tried to contact you in Calgary,” he told her.

Piper gaped. “Why?”

“He’s had some health concerns, Piper. He’s not as young as he was the day you walked out.”

The anger in his voice shocked her until she recalled those visits her father had made to Cathcart demanding she return home. Dylan had begged her to come back. Baron had made both of them miserable.

“Oh, Dyl.” She reached out to grasp his hand. “I’m sorry I had to leave you alone with him, but I just couldn’t take it anymore. You were older, starting college. I doubt if you knew just how overbearing and demanding he’d become.”

“Are you kidding?” An angry smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “I took the brunt of it the day you disappeared. I still do.”

She tried to console him but Dylan shook her off. After a moment she coaxed him into the living room and served coffee there.

“Why don’t you leave, Dyl?” she asked quietly. “You’re smart. You could sell your stock, work for someone else, or set up your own company. Why do you keep taking it?”

“Why?” He barked out a laugh. “Because one of these days Dad is going to retire. You don’t realize how much he’s aged, how much I actually do around there, Piper. Every day he depends on me more and more. And one of these days I’ll be taking the reins. I deserve it. I’ve worked long and hard, and I intend to be CEO of Wainwright Inc. Then I’m going to implement some of my own ideas.”

“Good for you.” But she didn’t think the benefit was worth the price he’d paid.

“You don’t care?” Dylan asked, obviously puzzled by her attitude.

Piper shook her head.

“Wainwright Inc. has only ever meant unhappiness to me. He insisted I work there and I tried, really tried. But I had no autonomy. I couldn’t think for myself. It was stifling. Far better for me that I left. For Vance, too,” she reminded.

“Funny how Dad never took to him.” Dylan shook his head. “I guess he never forgave him for stealing you.”

“If it hadn’t been Vance, he would have found another reason. Now tell me about some of your projects, something you’re really excited about.”

His eyes lit up and he began to discuss an idea he hoped to present to their father soon. But as Piper watched him her mind drifted back to Jason and his face when Dylan’s hotel idea had been scotched. He’d looked forlorn, as if someone has just kicked him. She vowed to redouble her efforts to find a developer.

Before Dylan returned with an idea that she couldn’t punch holes in.

* * *

Jason secured his boat to Piper’s jetty, then climbed the stairs, anxious to share his decision to let God take control of everything now that his meeting was finally over. He slowed his steps as music wafted down the hill, the sound of voices laughing, teasing.

Piper had company.

Two more steps and he’d reached the rose garden. He looked in through the big windows. Shock held him immobile.

Dylan Wainwright lay sprawled in her grandfather’s easy chair, his face wreathed in a smile as he stared at a picture Piper held up.

“I can’t believe you kept that after all these years,” Jason heard him say.

They shared an intimate chuckle, then he saw Dylan glance at his watch.

“I’ve got to get moving, Piper. It’s a long way back.”

“I’m glad you came for dinner, Dyl. It gave us a chance to catch up.” She reached out and hugged him. “Don’t be such a stranger.”

“I’ll try.” Dylan hugged her back as if he was used to it, brushing a hand over her hair. “I like it like this. Makes you look younger.”

“I feel better than I have in a long time. You should try living here for a while.”

He couldn’t hear any more. Jason turned on his heel and moved back down the slope, not caring that he was going too fast and could slip. He jumped into his craft, gunned the engine and took off across the water, turning the words in his mind over and over.

What did it mean?

“You two know each other?”

“Of course.”

He should have figured it out earlier. It wasn’t her father Piper had been waiting for during the Spring Fling. It was Dylan—a man she clearly cared about. So why was she so determined to shoot holes in his project?

And if she cared about Dylan, what was going on between himself and her?

Nothing made sense. Jason eased into his slip at the marina, secured the boat then took the stairs two at a time up to his perch. He didn’t bother with lights, simply sat there, staring into the black water.

I said I’d turned it all over to You, but
— The idea stole in as silently as the mist that now began to creep across the water.

Maybe it had all been a test. God only wanted him to surrender to show he could give up control. Now that he had, maybe Jason was supposed to act, do something to ensure Wainwright would come back to the table with something new.

Only, what could he do?

When the mist turned to fog, then a light shower, Jason finally moved inside. But the mental snapshot of Piper laughing with Dylan, her hand on his arm, kept Jason awake all night.

By morning he’d come up with a plan. He went to the office at the crack of dawn, searched Piper’s Rolodex and came up with a number. Once Andy was busy with his duties for the day and the fishermen had left, Jason locked himself in his office and made a call.

Piper was great at her job, no question. But some things you just had to do yourself.

Chapter Eleven

“I
appreciate the appointment, Mr. Wainwright. I know you’re a busy man.”

“Nonsense, Jason. I’ve always got time for you.” The firm grip closed around his with a strength the almost-white hair belied. “You look better, my boy.”

“I feel great.”

Baron brought him up to speed about Expectations and they talked freely about his time there.

“Have a seat, son. I know I’m going to.”

“Thank you.”

“Now tell me what brings you here.”

“I was hoping we could discuss your ideas for Serenity Bay. You’ve shown us two projects, but neither have quite met our hopes. I’m wondering if there’s something I can do to ensure the next one is a winner.”

“Serenity Bay.” Baron shook his head. “That’s Dylan’s department. I don’t have anything to do with it.” The tanned fingers clasped and unclasped his custom-fitted pant leg, the dark brown eyes never quite meeting his. “Perhaps I should call him, though I don’t believe he’s in the office today.”

“It’s not necessary. I was hoping we could just talk for a few moments.”

“I’m mostly a figurehead at Wainwright Inc. these days, Jason. The old man getting ready for the pasture. You should have made an appointment with my son.”

He said it with a laugh but Jason could hear the pain behind the words.

“Wisdom doesn’t age, sir.” Jason took a deep breath. “Besides, I’m sure Dylan has other things to do. He’s given us such a lot of his time already. Maybe you and I could brainstorm for a few minutes without him.”

He laid out the diagram Dylan had forgotten on the board table two nights ago.

“This is the last conception we looked at.”

Baron Wainwright leaned forward, traced the building with a fingertip. “It’s a beauty, isn’t it? The boy has real talent. I don’t tell him that enough. What’s your concern?”

“Do you know Serenity Bay, sir?”

Baron smiled and his whole face transformed.

“I should. Spent almost every summer there for many years. My wife grew up there. She loved it.” The smile faded, the eyes dimmed. “But that was a long time ago. I don’t go back anymore.”

“Maybe you should, sir. You could see how much it’s changed.”

“I like to remember it the way it was when my wife was alive.” He pointed to the drawing. “So what aren’t you happy about?”

Slowly, precisely, Jason laid out each of Piper’s points. And with a sharpness he wouldn’t have imagined, the head of Wainwright solved every one. Though Baron looked somewhat older than he remembered, his mind was obviously as sharp as ever.

“It’s a matter of perspective, primarily. No doubt Dylan believes the restaurant is best located here. But if it was shifted, you could get what you’re after and we’d free up another vista point without ruining your beach.”

It was so simple. Jason couldn’t believe they hadn’t thought of it before.

“I can’t thank you enough, sir,” he murmured, staring at the lightly penciled lines the old man had drawn in. “I think this is something everyone will approve.”

Wainwright rose, motioned to the coffeepot his secretary had just set on his desk. “Are you in a hurry, Jason?”

“Actually I’d love a cup. I didn’t get my morning dose.”

“Got up too early, I suppose. It’s a long drive in to Toronto.” He handed Jason a porcelain mug.

Jason took a sip, turned to sit and found himself staring into Piper’s face from an eight-by-ten glossy framed in gold. She was younger, her hair was long, but it was definitely her.

“Will Piper approve of this change?” Baron Wainwright asked, sitting down behind the desk. “I can’t imagine my daughter is exactly thrilled about doing business with my company, especially not in Serenity Bay.”

“Your...daughter?” Every ounce of breath left his lungs.

“You didn’t know?” Baron inclined his head to stare at the picture. His whole face seemed to sag with sadness. “No reason you would, I suppose. We don’t exactly communicate anymore. Piper hates me.”

“I—” Jason struggled to recover. “I’m sure that’s not true, sir.”

“Yes, it is. And I deserve it. After her mother died—well, let’s just say I made some mistakes.”

This
was the man Piper loathed? Jason couldn’t get it through his brain. Baron Wainwright was decent, honest and not above standing up for what he believed in. Something must have changed him.

The door burst open.

“Dad, Tina’s not at her desk and—hey, Jason. What are you doing here?” Dylan thrust out his hand, glanced from one to the other. “Everything okay?”

“Of course. Don’t fuss.” Wainwright’s gruff tone surprised Jason. “We were just talking turkey.”

“I was worried that after our last meeting you’d be tempted to toss your ideas for Serenity Bay in the garbage and get on with your life,” Jason interrupted. “I couldn’t reach you so I contacted your father. He’s come up with a brilliant idea to satisfy both our needs.”

“Indeed.”

Jason caught the dark look of pure anger Dylan tossed his father’s way, though he recovered quickly.

“Well, let’s see what you’ve got,” he said, moving toward the table.

“It’s your concept, of course, and I wouldn’t dream of asking you to change it except that I thought we might save each other a whole lot of frustration and time,” Jason remarked diplomatically.

“Does Piper know you’re here?” Dylan asked.

“No, I’d prefer to tell her about this trip myself, in my own way.” He saw Dylan understood.

“She’s not going to be pleased you went behind her back, you know,” Dylan mumbled, his attention on the drawing.

“That’s an understatement.”

Dylan glanced up, grinning.

“In fact, she’s going to tear a strip off you a mile wide. Piper is very independent. You can’t believe how long Dad and I debated even presenting a Wainwright idea.”

“I’m very glad you did, because this idea is one of the best hotel concepts I’ve ever seen.”

“Thank you.” Dylan glanced at his father, rose quickly and moved behind the desk. “Dad? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, son. I’m fine. Just a bit dizzy. Don’t fuss,” the old man barked. “I’m fine, I said.”

“Okay. Okay.”

The tender tones of care and compassion in Dylan’s voice surprised Jason. He’d always seen the man as hard-nosed, fixated on business. Yet the other night with Piper, and now with his father, his feelings lay exposed on his face.

Dylan lifted his father’s cup, sniffed it.

“You’re not supposed to be drinking coffee, Dad. You know what the doctor said.”

“Phooey! At this age, what am I saving myself for? It’s not like you’re providing me with grandchildren.” Baron glared at Dylan. He brushed his fingers against the picture of Piper.

Dylan took away his cup, moving to stand beside Jason.

“I’ll get the changes to you at your next council meeting,” he murmured. “I think it would be better if we left my father now. He’s been overdoing it and he’s tired.”

“Certainly. I’ll just say goodbye.” Jason thanked the older man then quietly left.

Outside the office, Dylan plunked down the cup on the secretary’s desk and gave her an angry glare before turning back to face Jason.

“I’m sorry to involve you in family problems, Jason. I’m not sure what my father told you but he and Piper haven’t spoken for several years. I’d prefer it if you didn’t mention that you came here and saw him.”

“But surely she should know that he’s failing?”

“I’ve told her.” He frowned, then continued. “Dad will rebound. Baron Wainwright always does.” A lopsided smile added to his sad look. “What I don’t want is a confrontation between them. It’s better if things go on as they have for now.”

“You
don’t
want them to reconcile?” he asked with a frown.

“I’d like nothing better. This position as go-between isn’t fun. But every argument, every hurtful word only diminishes him more. For now it’s best that they live their own lives.” He sighed, raked a hand through his hair. “I’m trying to shield Dad as much as I can, take the load from his shoulders, though he doesn’t like it. But both of them have hard heads.”

“I understand. I won’t lie to her, but as far as is possible, I’ll keep my meeting here to myself.” He walked beside Dylan to the elevators. “You’ll be up next week with the revisions?”

“Count on it.”

“Maybe when the hotel’s done, your father will come and see it.”

Dylan shook his head, his eyes dark and foreboding. “Don’t count on that, Jason. Going back there—it could kill him.”

Then he walked away.

All the way home Jason could think of only one thing—Piper Langley was Baron Wainwright’s daughter. He’d trusted her completely and she’d kept that one most important truth from him. The woman he’d come to trust, to care about.

To love.

Pain at her deceit boiled inside, but he tamped it down, told himself to remain calm. Better to go along as if nothing had happened, find out what else she was willing to lie about. Then he’d expose her—and she’d leave.

That was for the best, wasn’t it?

As Jason rolled down the last hill into town, a new question bubbled up.

When and why had she changed her name? Was that all part of the plan?

* * *

Something was wrong.

Though she couldn’t put her finger on it exactly, Piper knew that Jason had changed. What she didn’t know was why, or how she could fix it.

He was unfailingly polite, he listened to every idea, worked with her on each project as willingly as she could have asked. But all the time there was a barrier between them, a chasm that, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t breach.

She longed to hide out at Cathcart House. But the council meeting lay ahead of her tonight. According to the agenda, Dylan would be there with a new idea. She wondered how many more times she’d have to shoot down her brother’s ideas, watch the haunting sadness of disappointment fill his eyes, and know that she’d put it there to protect herself. What kind of a sister did that?

Not that she didn’t have the best interests of Serenity Bay in mind. She did. Tweaking his last idea would have been easy. She could have made the suggestions herself if she hadn’t been too afraid to allow Wainwright to build here.

For the tenth time today she wondered about her father. Last night during dinner, Jason had alluded to an article he’d read that claimed Baron was declining in health, that he’d begun to leave more details to Dylan. At first she’d thought he was hinting at something, but that feeling had been chased away by a flurry of new ideas they’d worked on. Then he’d calmly wished her good-night.

Piper pushed away her half-eaten sandwich and asked the waitress for her check. Fifteen minutes and then it would start again.

You don’t have to hurt Dylan. Why not trust Me?

The chiding of that still-small voice had grown louder in the past week, reminding her that once she’d believed that God would work all things together. What had become of that faith? When in all the pain and hurt had God become synonymous with Baron Wainwright?

Piper didn’t know anymore. All she knew was that a lump sat in her heart and every time she thought of her father, it ached a little more. Why couldn’t he have been a real father, loved her the way a man was supposed to care for his own daughter? Failing that, why couldn’t she have continued the life she’d loved in Calgary, the one Vance’s death had ended?

Discontented with questions that had no answers, Piper left the restaurant and strode down the street to the office. Inside she stored her bag in her desk, gathered up her notes and, after combing her hair, took her usual seat in the council room. Jason and Dylan arrived together a few moments later, teasing each other about their fishing abilities.

When had they become so friendly?

The evening started out badly as a council member pointed out the mistakes in two ads that had run last week. Piper tried to explain it was a printer’s error but the member wouldn’t let her finish a sentence. Finally, after waiting to no avail for Jason to intervene, she gave up and remained silent.

After making short work of the rest of business, Jason then asked Dylan to present his new ideas.

“I think you’ll agree we’ve hit the nail on the head this time,” her brother said, passing around artists’ renderings of the newly revised hotel. He went into great detail explaining the changes and how they aligned to each problem she’d outlined last week.

Tension inched up her spine as Piper scrutinized the plans for problems. There were a few but they were minor and she knew it. She offered her half-hearted objections but they were quickly shot down. Everyone seemed to favor this new proposal.

Piper felt as if the sand were sinking beneath her feet. Relief swamped her when Jason finally adjourned the meeting. She rose, intent on escape.

“Hey, Piper, we’re going for coffee. Want to join us?” Dylan sounded happy, probably buoyed by his good presentation.

“I can’t, thanks. I have to get home.” She rose on tiptoe, kissing his cheek. “I’ll have to take a rain check.”

He shook his head at her, his fingers trailing down one cheek. “You can’t live in the past, sis. You’ve got to look ahead.”

She smiled, hugged him, then left without saying anything more.

* * *

Jason stood on the sidewalk, watching
Shalimar
push across the blue water.

“She didn’t look well. Is everything all right, do you think?”

Dylan turned from the truck where he’d stowed his belongings.

“With Piper? She’s all right. Her problems have more to do with the date.”

“The date?” Jason searched Dylan’s face for an answer. “July 22 is a bad day?”

“For Piper it is. Her husband died on this day three years ago.”

Husband?
She’d been married?

“Vance was a nice guy, and they really loved each other. Then he got brain cancer. They tried every treatment but nothing helped. By the time he died, it was a blessing to everyone. He suffered terribly. That’s one of the reasons Piper and Dad don’t speak.”

“Why?” Jason choked out, his anger rising. “What did your father do?”

“As far as I know, nothing. I don’t really understand it, but after Vance’s death, Piper refused to ever speak to him again. And she hasn’t.”