Blue Ridge Reunion

Hoping to appear contrite, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and trudged down the steps. In the yard, he intercepted Chelsea. Summoning every sad moment of his life into his expression, he kept it simple. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” she countered tartly. “Being you? Please.”

Sharp words leaped onto his tongue, and he sent up a quick prayer for patience. What he said to her right now would make or break this project, and he wasn’t averse to calling in a little divine help. “For being out of line. You obviously have a great life, and I had no right to talk to you that way. I hope you can forgive me.”

The change in her was remarkable. He’d braced himself for a scolding, but what he got instead was a slowly dawning smile. By the time it reached her eyes, he glimpsed a sparkle in them he’d never seen before. How many guys had gotten that view of her? he wondered briefly before slamming the door on his curiosity. He had no intention of going anywhere remotely personal with her, so there was no point in even asking the question.

“Thank you, Paul. That can’t have been easy for you to do, and I appreciate it. Believe it or not,” she added in a warmer tone, “I think your idea for this place has a lot of merit.”

“That’s good,” Paul stammered, unable to believe what he was hearing.

She gave him a nod, then got back to her measuring. While he appreciated her attempt to be encouraging, he was smart enough to realize it didn’t mean much in this situation. When it came to dollars and cents, banks were notoriously hard-hearted these days, which didn’t bode well for the Barretts.

It wasn’t himself he was worried about, Paul thought morosely. He’d failed before—plenty of times—and as Chelsea had so deftly noted, he had a knack for burying his mistakes and moving on.

But this time, he had to succeed. Knowing that scared him to death.

Chapter Two (#ulink_a973bbde-be32-55da-ac85-2a80a04dfd4e)

When Chelsea was finished with her survey, she stopped in the millhouse to say goodbye to Paul. “Thanks for the tour. The loan committee will be meeting tomorrow, and I’ll make my presentation then. You should have an answer by midweek.”

Paul looked up from the doohickey he was oiling with a grim expression. “I can tell by your tone you don’t think we should get our hopes up.”

She did, but she was usually better at hiding her opinion from clients. Either he was unusually adept at reading her, or she was losing her touch. Whichever it was, she wasn’t thrilled to learn she’d let her emotions show. Hoping to ease the blow, she sat down on an overturned crate beside him. “I won’t lie to you, Paul. With the economy the way it is, projects like these are rejected more often than not.”

“But this one’s special,” he insisted, his dark eyes pleading with her for something she couldn’t give him. “There was nothing around here until my family built this mill. That has to count for something.”

Unfortunately, there were hundreds of villages just like it scattered throughout the country, fading from memory because they weren’t deemed important enough to save. But she couldn’t bear to tell him that, so she hedged. “I’ll do my best, but I can’t make any promises. You need to understand that.”

“Sure,” he breathed, his shoulders lifting and then drooping with a heavy sigh.

The defeated pose was far removed from the arrogant sports star she remembered from high school, and she felt her heart going out to him. Firmly, she put a stop to that and reminded herself this was a business proposition. Where money was concerned, she had to keep a cool head at all times. She was on pace to be the youngest vice president in the long history of Shenandoah Bank and Trust, and she had no intention of losing sight of her goal when she had it within her grasp. Because, quite honestly, she had few friends outside of work and an almost nonexistent social life. Without her career, she was nothing.

“I’ll get back to Roanoke and start processing your files,” she said as she stood. “Have a good day.”

“You, too,” he muttered without looking up. Chelsea decided that was the best she could expect considering she’d just crushed his dreams, so she headed for the door. She was on the porch when he called out her name.

She backtracked, and he gave her a sheepish grin as he got to his feet. “That’s no way to treat a lady, and I apologize. Let me walk you to your car.”

“You don’t—”

“Yeah, I do. If Mom found out I booted you outta here, she’d tan my hide.”

Chelsea wouldn’t be talking to anyone else before leaving town, so there was little chance of his mother learning about their awkward reunion. Then again, she mused while they strode outside, this was Barrett’s Mill. Someone had probably noticed her on the road and begun spreading the word that she’d come back, however briefly. The idea tickled her for some reason, and while she normally detested anyone poking their nose into her affairs, she had to laugh.

“What?” Paul asked, glancing around to see what had amused her.

“Just thinking about how this place never changes.”

“Yeah, that’s what I like most about it.”

Bewildered by his attitude, she didn’t bother to hide her reaction. “Really? Doesn’t it drive you crazy?”

“Sure, but that’s part of its charm.” Leaning against a gnarled old oak, he folded his arms and gave her the same wide-open country-boy grin he’d worn all through high school. “I’ve lived lots of places, but I always come back here because it’s home.”

“This is my first visit since we graduated,” she blurted without thinking.

“Doesn’t surprise me any,” he said with a frown. “Even when we were kids, you wanted more than you could find here.”

“There’s a big, fascinating world out there.”

Studying her for a long moment, he murmured, “But you haven’t found what you’re looking for yet. Why is that?”

His perceptiveness unnerved her almost as much as his appallingly blunt—and highly personal—question. She’d usually ignore such an intrusion, but she didn’t want him thinking for even one second that he’d rattled her. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“Just curious. Have a good trip back.”

This time she didn’t linger out of politeness but opened the driver’s door and gratefully sank into the buttery leather seat. Eager to leave the mill and its aggravating caretaker behind, she angrily punched the button to start the engine.

Nothing.

Gritting her teeth in frustration, she reset the electronic fob and tried the button again, with the same result. The dealer had done a full service on this car just last week, and now it wouldn’t start when she was in the absolute middle of nowhere? Could this day possibly get any worse?

The answer to that question loomed in her window, and for a few immature seconds, she ignored Paul’s irritating presence. Then she realized she was being ridiculous and hit the control to lower the window. It wouldn’t work, of course, and she reluctantly climbed out of her worthless car to face the music.

“Problem?” he asked, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“It won’t start, as you can see. You’re good with mechanical things,” she said hopefully. “Could you please take a look?”

“Well, since you said ‘please,’ I’ll give it a shot. Pop the hood.”

She did as he asked, standing helplessly while he pushed it open and peered inside. The baffled look on his face spoke volumes, and he gave a long, dubious whistle. “You need a computer to talk to a car like this. Fred Morgan might be able to get it running, though.”

“Great. Let’s call him.”

Squinting up at the sky, Paul shook his head. “We could, but it’s lunchtime, and he’ll be at The Whistlestop. We’ll find him there.”

Chelsea didn’t like what he was implying. They’d had a few nice moments, but otherwise the man grated on her every nerve. She hadn’t planned on spending any more time with him than strictly necessary. “We?”

“I’m headed there anyway, so I can give you a ride. Unless you’d rather walk.” Angling his head, he gave her high heels an uncertain look.

“Can’t you just send Fred out here? I mean, after you’ve both eaten,” she added so she didn’t sound quite so desperate.

“Are you serious?” Paul’s eyes roamed around the deserted property before settling on her. “There’s no way I’m leaving you out here alone. Boyd’s a great watchdog, but he’s not much in the protection department. He loves everyone he meets.”

Chelsea didn’t think anything would happen to her, but she yielded to the wisdom of what he was saying. These days, a girl couldn’t be too careful. So, since she was out of options, she decided to make the best of a bad situation. “All right, then. I appreciate the offer.”

“And lunch,” he said, motioning her toward his truck. “By the looks of that suit, you don’t eat near as much as you should.”