Wishing on Willows: A Novel (29 page)

As hard as Robin tried to fight it, the yawn came. It pried her mouth wide open. She covered the offense with her hand and hoped nobody noticed. Jed Johnson had finally joined the support group and she didn’t want him thinking her yawn had anything to do with the length of his prayer request. Especially when she was thrilled to have him there.

Thanks to the clunky bandage wrapped around her finger, she jotted the truncated version of Jed’s concerns in a sloppy scrawl and glanced at the counter. Throughout the entirety of their Saturday morning gathering, a steady trickle of customers had kept Joe busy.

The leaning tower of blocks Caleb built in the kids’ corner clattered to the floor, followed by his laughter. It was a good sound. A much-needed sound. Robin covered another yawn and waited until Jed finished. After last night’s quarrel with Amanda, she hadn’t been able to fall asleep until two in
the morning. She lay with eyes wide open, Amanda’s words flip-flopping in her stomach. So she’d opened Micah’s Bible and read the Psalms until sleep finally took her.

“Are you finished now?” A not-so-subtle hint of annoyance colored Bernie’s words.

Jed tore off bits of napkin and bunched them between his fingers. Cinnamon roll crumbs and white napkin flakes decorated his plate. He peeked at Bernie, his overlarge ears tingeing with pink. “My grandkids tell me I ramble. I guess it’s a hard habit to break.”

Bernie harrumphed.

Robin smiled. The woman was all bark and no bite. Hopefully Jed would pick up on that sooner rather than later. “Do you have any prayer requests for us this morning, Bernie?”

“My cat broke her tail.”

Robin scrunched her nose. Since when did Bernie have a cat?

“Oh, the poor dear,” Linda said.

“Bill’s very upset. I’m not sure I should have left her.”

Cecile set her mug on the table. “Who’s Bill?”

“My cat.”

Cecile made a face. “You named a female cat Bill?”

“It’s a perfectly fine name.”

Robin hid her smile behind her hand.
Oh, Lord, thank You for these people
. They were a bright spot to her week.

“The B and B felt empty after Ian left so I bought her at the farmer’s market.”

“They sell cats at the farmer’s market?” Linda asked.

“Lyle Noldt was selling them for the 4-H club. But now Ian’s back, and supposedly, he’s allergic to cats. So on top of Bill’s broken tail, I’m trying to lint-roll all her hair to make Ian’s stay less miserable.”

“It’s not actually the fur that causes the allergies.” Jed tore off a few more napkin pieces and looked at Bernie through thick eyeglasses. “It’s dried saliva and protein particles. A good HEPA filter would help.”

“And where in Peaks would I get a HEPA filter?” Bernie asked.

Jed ran his hand over thinning wisps of white hair. “I have some extras at my house. If you’d like one, I could bring it over.”

Bernie harrumphed again, but Robin caught her eyes softening.

“Speaking of Ian,” Cecile said. “Rumor has it he went on a date with a certain someone last night.”

The same heat from last night bit at Robin’s cheeks. How had the conversation landed here? She could feel Cecile’s stare boring into the side of her face, probing for details. But Robin had nothing to say. She was still unable to fully process Amanda’s declaration from last night—the one about Ian having feelings for her. Anytime she started to think about it, she lost her appetite.

“Val said they came to her diner last night looking awfully cozy.”

“That makes me a little sad,” said Linda. “She and Jason made such a good couple.”

“How do you feel about it, Robin?” Cecile asked.

“What do you mean?”

“She’s your sister-in-law.”

“So?”

“He wants your café.”

“Amanda is free to befriend whomever she wants to befriend.” Robin set her pencil down and closed her notebook. She had recorded everybody’s requests. It was time to wrap up with a prayer and spend the day with her son, not thinking about Ian. “Thanks for coming, everyone. If you don’t mind, I’d like to close us in prayer.”

The jingling of the front bell cut Robin off and Ian walked inside. Cecile Arton made a funny humming noise in the back of her throat. Robin excused herself from her table and made her way to intercept him. She did not want him talking to her support group, nor did she want to discuss her café. She’d rather not have anything to do with a man who made it sound like loving her husband was a bad thing. She met him halfway between the front door and the counter. “Can I help you?”

“Good morning,” he said.

She pinned her gaze on his shoulder. Safer territory than the brownish-amber warmth of his eyes. “If this is about the café …”

“I’m not here to talk about the café.”

“Then what are you here to talk about?”

“I couldn’t sleep last night.” He dipped his chin and caught her attention from the tops of his eyes. “I kept lying there, thinking about what I said to you. Sometimes having a conscience can be really inconvenient.”

“Imagine that.”

“I’m sorry. It was completely unfair and uncalled for.”

“Which part? When you brought up my husband or when you accused me of leading on my brother-in-law?”

“Your brother-in-law?” Ian cocked his head. “You have
another
brother-in-law in Peaks?”

She nodded.

“I’m an idiot.” He jerked his head in the direction of her piano. “And we have an audience.”

Robin glanced over her shoulder. Four pairs of watchful eyes looked away, toward the drinks and empty plates in front of them. Robin swallowed. If Ian was going to be polite, she had no reason not to return the sentiment. “I’m sorry too.”

“For what?”

“My accusation about you and Amanda. That wasn’t fair. She’s a big girl who can handle herself, and even though I don’t like what you’re doing in Peaks, I don’t think you’re that kind of a guy.”

Ian’s eyes crinkled. He slid his hands in his pockets and leaned close. “Did you just pay me a compliment?”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“Hey, I’ll take what I can get.”

She fiddled with the gauze on her finger, her stomach entirely too swoopy. “Is that all?”

“Unless you’re in the mood to serve me some coffee?”

“Not particularly. Given the circumstances.”

“Understandable.” He looked as if he might say something more. Instead, he flashed his smile and walked out of her café. Robin stared after him, partly to avoid Cecile’s inevitable interrogation. Partly to process his visit. Surely Ian had a next move. Guys like him carried checkmates in their pockets.

Ian straightened his tie with one hand and made his way toward the town hall. He’d spent the entire week paying a personal visit to every viable business along Main Street, meeting with owners about investing in the condominiums. He knew many of them were struggling, and even though McKay had several investors lined up in Peoria, he wanted to give the local business owners of Peaks an opportunity to benefit from these condominiums in a more personal way, no matter how small. And he needed the distraction.

From the problem that had become Robin Price.

Despite meeting with the zoning board, checking the property for easements, and having a mile-long list of investors, Ian still had not secured the site. For the first time in his career, he had no idea what to do. So he ignored the problem. He didn’t return Dad’s messages and he avoided thoughts about the weekend that lay before him—one that sheltered an anniversary he wished he could blot from existence.

The soles of his polished shoes padded against the ground as he buttoned his lapels with one hand and shouldered open the front door of the town hall. Ian greeted an auburn-haired woman sitting behind a long, polished desk. She smiled kindly and told him to go on back. He made his way down the hallway, where familiar laughter filtered through the open doorway of the mayor’s office. Ian stopped short. Not only was the mayor there … so was his father.

“Come on in, Ian.” Mayor Ford waved him inside, his cheeks filled with color.

Dad sat with his elbows propped on the armrests of his chair, as if his
presence in Peaks, as if his presence here—in Mayor Ford’s office—was nothing out of the ordinary.

“You never mentioned your father would be joining us today,” Mayor Ford said.

“I wasn’t aware of it.”

“It was a last-minute decision.” Dad clasped his hands. “I had an appointment cancel, so I thought I’d come check on things here. Get an update and make sure everything’s going as planned.”

“I think you’d be proud to know, Mr. McKay, that this son of yours has charmed most of the town.”

Dad looked at Ian. “What about the resistant café owner? Have you charmed her?”

The muscles in Ian’s shoulders tightened. Why was Dad checking up on him?

Mayor Ford centered his pencil cup. “Robin’s not easily charmed, I’m afraid. And we’re racing time—which is why I’m glad you and Ian are both here. I have an interesting proposition to make.” He clapped his hands and rubbed his palms together. “Let’s get right to it, shall we?”

Ian’s skin prickled. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear whatever interesting proposition Mayor Ford had to make, but he set his briefcase beside the empty seat and settled into the chair.

“If we’re going to turn Peaks into a bedroom community, not only do we have to offer the best, we have to offer it first. We’re convinced you build the best, but none of that matters if your condominiums go up
after
Fixtel opens. The employees will already have moved elsewhere, perhaps buying in Le Claire or across the river in Port Byron.”

Tightness rippled from Ian’s jaw down into his neck and shoulders. He knew exactly what Mayor Ford was going to suggest.

“You probably have experience with eminent domain.” Mayor Ford scratched his earlobe. “Basically, we’d force her to sell.”

Dad crossed his leg and clasped his hands over his knee. “Yes, we know what eminent domain means, Mayor Ford.”

The mayor chuckled, but as soon as he realized he was the only one
laughing, the sound curdled. “The municipality of Peaks would condemn Robin’s property. We’d pay her fair price for the land and we’d sell it to you. I know this sort of thing is usually reserved for state highways and the like, but a few of the council members and I have done our research. We think we’re in a favorable position.”

Ian couldn’t believe it. He promised Robin it wouldn’t come to force, but that was exactly what Mayor Ford wanted to do.

“It’s a pretty bold move,” Dad said.

Mayor Ford picked up a pen and gave it a few taps against his desktop. “Yes, well, I’m confident we won’t end up in court over this.”

“You do realize,” Ian said, squishing the words between his teeth, “that eminent domain is a court procedure.”

“The threat of it will be enough to get her to sell.”

“She’s a lot more determined then you’re giving her credit for.”

“Robin’s a great gal and I understand that she’s emotionally attached. She’s had a nice run with her café, but I’m convinced these condos are exactly what this town needs.” The mayor pulled a pocket calendar from the top drawer of his desk and flipped through the pages. “We have another town meeting scheduled in a few weeks. The fourteenth of July, I believe. We’ll discuss condemnation then and move forward from there. That is, if you’re still interested in building.”

“I’m not sure—”

“Of course we’re still interested.” Dad’s words sliced through Ian’s objection. He stood and shook the mayor’s hand.

Ian blinked several times, then exited the town hall behind his father. As soon as they stepped into the sun, Ian stopped. “Do you mind telling me what in the world that was about?”

“You’ve been MIA for a week. You haven’t returned any of my messages, which means I had nothing to report at our Wednesday meeting. If you were any other employee, I’d call you into my office and we’d have a serious discussion about the future.”

But Ian wasn’t any other employee. He was the boss’s son, which meant his future was secure, whether he wanted it to be or not.

Dad stepped closer. “This is the most important deal in the history of our company. I gave it to you because I thought you were the best man for the job.”

“Maybe you thought wrong.”

Dad’s eyes filled with disappointment. “Please tell me you’re not letting things get personal between you and this café owner. If you’ve learned anything from the divorce, I hope it would be that messes are usually created when we mix business with pleasure.”

Ian ran his hand across his jaw, steam building in his chest.

“I heard the way you talked about her at the banquet.”

“She doesn’t want to sell.”

“Then we brainstorm ways that will get her to reconsider.” Dad’s face turned red. “You don’t give up. I didn’t raise a quitter.”

“Oh, and what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You gave up on your marriage when it got hard and now you’re giving up on this too.”

“You have no idea what I’m giving up. And you have no idea about my marriage.”

“You’re quitting too soon, just like your mother!”

The words punched a hole straight through Ian’s anger. All the heat swooshed right out of him. “What did you say?”

“The doctors found a new mass yesterday.” Dad’s shoulders collapsed. He took a seat on the curb and dug his hands through his hair. “She’s refusing to do any more chemo.”

The café and the condemnation became something far away, something distant.

“I can’t lose her, Ian. She’s my entire world.” Dad’s voice cracked. “I don’t know what to do anymore. Lord God, tell me what to do.”

In all Ian’s life, he’d never heard his father say those words.