She had been thinking about what she could do with the money. He’d been sure of it.
And then her gaze had snapped back to meet his, and the ice-blue hardness of her eyes and her flat-out refusal of his money had caused something within him to strike back with the prediction that she would eventually cave at a higher price.
He had almost been able to feel the flinty sparks from her eyes searing his back as he’d left...
Casson drove into the larger of the Russell properties—his properties now—and after greeting his dog, Luna, he grabbed a cold beer and plunked himself down into one of the Muskoka chairs on the wraparound porch.
Luna ran around the property for a while and then settled down beside him. Casson stared out at the flickering waters of the bay. It already felt like he had been there for years.
This really was a slice of heaven. Prime Group of Seven country.
Casson had grown up hearing about the Group of Seven as if they were actual members of his family. His grandfather’s friendship with A. J. Casson—who had been his neighbor for years—and the collection of Casson paintings he had eventually bequeathed to his only daughter, had resulted in Casson’s childhood being steeped in art knowledge and appreciation. Not only of A. J. Casson’s work, but the work of all the Group of Seven artists.
And now here he was as an adult, just days away from sponsoring and hosting Franklin & Casson on the Bay—an exhibition of the paintings of Franklin Carmichael and A. J. Casson at the Charles W. Stockey Centre for the Performing Arts in Parry Sound. The center was renowned for its annual Festival of the Sound summer classical music festival, as well as for housing the Bobby Orr Hall of Fame—a sports museum celebrating Parry Sound’s ice hockey legend.
It was all close to falling into place. This exhibition was the first step in making his resort a reality. Franklin’s Resort would be a non-profit venture, to honor the memory of its namesake and to provide a much-needed safe haven for families.
At the exhibition Casson would outline his plan to create a luxury haven for children after cancer treatment—a place to restore their strength and their spirit with their families, who would all have experienced trauma. The families would enjoy a week’s stay at the resort at no cost.
He had no doubt that the Carmichael/Casson exhibition would be successful in raising awareness and backing for his venture. And the pièce de résistance was a painting from his own personal collection. It was one of A. J. Casson’s early pieces, Storm on the Bay, and had beengiven to Casson’s grandfather when A.J. had been his neighbor. It was the prize in a silent auction, and Casson hoped it would attract a collector’s eye and boost the development of the resort.
A lump formed in his throat. He had been only ten when Franklin had died, and although he had not been able to articulate his feelings at the time, he knew now that he had coped with his feeling of helplessness by overcompensating in other ways. Helping with chores; learning to make meals as a teen and excelling at school, in sport and at university. Subconsciously he had done everything he could not to add to his parents’ misery.
After pursuing a Business and Commerce degree in Toronto, Casson had returned home to Huntsville—an hour away from Parry Sound—to purchase a struggling hardware store downtown. He had been grateful for the money his grandfather had left him in his will, which had enabled him to put a down payment on the business, and he’d vowed that he would make his grandpa proud.
Within a couple of years the store had been thriving, and Casson had set his sights on developing a chain. Six more years and he’d had stores in Gravenhurst, Bracebridge, Port Carling and—his most recent acquisition—a hardware store in Parry Sound, just outside the Muskoka area.
Casson had revived each store with innovative changes and promotions that would appeal both to the locals and the seasonal property-owners. The Forrest Hardware chain had made him a multi-millionaire by the time he was thirty-four.
Losing his brother at such a young age had affected Casson deeply; he hadn’t been able to control what happened to Franklin, so he had learned to take control of his own life early. He was still in control now, steering his expanding hardware chain, and yet he had no control over Justine Winter. Not that he wanted to control her; he simply wanted control of Winter’s Haven. Her property was the last piece of the puzzle that he needed to fit into his plan.
Earlier, the thought had flashed into his mind to invite Justine to go with him to the Stockey Centre the following day—to show her that his motive when it came to the Russell properties and Winter’s Haven was not one of financial gain, as she had immediately assumed. However, the fact that he’d even considered telling Justine the truth shocked him... He never talked about Franklin. He’d learned to keep those feelings hidden.
Why had he nearly told her?
It might have had something to do with those initial sparks between them...
Anyway, he hadn’t wanted to show his vulnerability or how much this venture meant to him as a tribute to his brother. So instead he had thrust his offer upon Justine with the arrogant expectation that she would be so dazzled by the amount she’d agree to it, no questions asked.
And if she had asked questions he wouldn’t have been prepared to open up his soul to her. Tell her that he was doing this not only for Franklin, but for himself. For all the lonely years he had spent after his brother’s death, unable to share his grief with his mother, whose pain at losing Franklin had created an emotional barrier that even Casson could not penetrate. His father had thrown himself into his work, and when he was at home had seemed to have only enough energy to provide a comforting shoulder for his wife.
It was only in later years that Casson had contemplated going to a few sessions of grief counselling. It had been emotionally wrenching to relive the past, but Casson had eventually forgiven his parents. It had been during that time that his idea for a resort to help kids like Franklin had begun to take root. What he hadn’t been able to do for Franklin at ten years of age, he could now do for many kids like him—including his godson Andy, his cousin Veronica’s only child.
Andy’s cancer diagnosis a year earlier had shocked Casson, and triggered memories and feelings of the past. Supporting Andy and Veronica during subsequent treatment had made him all the more determined to see his venture become a reality.Casson just wished his parents were still alive to witness it as well...
Franklin & Casson on the Bay was only a few days away. His plan was on target. There was one key missing.
And Justine had it.
Casson took a gulp of his beer. Damn, it was hot. He loosened his tie. As he contemplated changing and going for a swim, a vision of Justine Winter standing with wet hair in her bathing suit flashed in his memory. That turquoise one-piece had molded to the heady curves of her body, and her tanned thighs and legs had been sugared with white beach sand that sparkled in the sun. Her hair, straight and dripping water over her cleavage... An enchanting sea creature...
He had sensed her discomfort, knew how exposed she’d felt. If only she knew what the sight of her body had done to him.
Casson unbuttoned his shirt and went inside to change. A dip in the refreshing waters of Georgian Bay would cool him down—inside and out...
* * *
Casson stretched out on the edge of the dock to let the sun heat his body. There was nothing like that first dive into the bay when your body was sizzling hot. He closed his eyes for a few moments, and when he opened them, wondered if he had dozed off. Although he had slapped on some sunscreen earlier, his skin felt slightly more burnished.
He scrambled to his feet and Luna shuffled excitedly around him. Casson heard a faint voice calling him, but when he turned there was nobody there. There was some rustling in the trees and a flash of blue, followed by the shrill call of a blue jay.
Casson looked down at the water, anticipating the bracing pleasure awaiting him. A hint of a breeze tickled his nose, followed by the faint smell of fish. He blinked at his reflection, wiping at the sweat prickling his eyes. In the gently lapping bay he imagined Franklin beside him, wearing his faded Toronto Blue Jays cap, his skinny arms holding a fishing rod with its catch of pickerel and his toothy grin. And the sparkle in his eyes...
And then the sparkle was lost in the sun’s glittering reflection and the image was swallowed up by the waves. Casson dropped down to sit at the edge of the dock, his original intention forgotten. He continued to peer intensely into the water, and it was only moments later, when Luna pressed against him to lick his face, that Casson realized she was licking the salty tears on his cheeks.
CHAPTER TWO (#u1713fc6d-9edb-53f3-974d-e36914b8ba85)
THE RAIN DRUMMING on the roof woke Justine an hour before she’d intended. She didn’t mind at all, though. Rainy days were good for doing odd jobs, renovating an empty cottage, or just relaxing with a good book in the window seat in her room. It was one of her favorite reading spots, with its plush flowery cushions and magnificent view of the bay.
Justine changed into jeans and a nautical-style T-shirt, brushed her hair back into a ponytail, and went downstairs. After having a quick coffee and one of the banana yogurt muffins she had made last night, she grabbed her umbrella and dashed to her car.
Despite the fact that she had always liked this kind of weather, Justine couldn’t help but feel a twist in her stomach, remembering the rainy day she’d walked into Robert Morrell’s law office for an interview. She’d been twenty-four, and had graduated summa cum laude in Law and Justice from the University of Toronto. That and her business electives had impressed Robert and Clare, his senior administrative assistant, who would be retiring in six months, and Robert had offered her the job the following day.
As time had progressed the initial rapport between them had developed into an easy friendship. Justine had sometimes stayed at the office during lunchtime, catching up on paperwork between bites of her sandwich or salad. And Robert, to her surprise, had often done the same, claiming he wanted to go home at a decent hour so his wife wouldn’t complain that he was “married to the job.”
Shared conversations had begun to take on a more personal note during Justine’s second year at the office, and when Robert had started to hint at his marriage breakdown she had felt compelled to listen and comfort him as he’d revealed more and more.
The underlying spark of attraction between them had not come to the forefront until after his divorce had almost become final. Then, with nothing and nobody to hold them back, Justine and Robert had begun dating...
Justine forced Robert out of her thoughts as she turned the corner and drove into the parking lot of the hardware store, finding a spot near the front doors. Something looked vaguely different about the place, and then she realized the signage had changed. New ownership, she had heard.
Without bothering to get her umbrella, she dashed into the store and toward the wood department.
“May I help you?”
Justine turned to find a middle-aged employee smiling at her.
“Yes, thank you, Mr. Blake,” she said, smiling back. “Glad to see you’re still here. I’d like to order some cedar paneling for one of the cottages.”
“I thought it was you. Back from Toronto, I hear. Your dad told me you’d be taking over Winter’s Haven.”
Justine nodded. “I’m glad to be back.”
As she handed him a piece of paper with the measurements a feeling of contentedness came over her. She had made the right decision, coming back home.
This was what she loved about living in a small town—knowing the names of local merchants, dealing with people who knew her parents.
She had felt the call of the big city, and had enjoyed it for a time, but the breakup with Robert and the lonely month that had followed had made her realize how truly alone she was. With no job and no meaningful friendships—the people Robert had introduced her to didn’t qualify—she’d yearned for the small-town connections of Parry Sound. Home. The place she had always felt safe in, nurtured and supported by family, friends and community.