Her Best Bet Page 11

  Gib eyed Jack’s expensive shirt, his tailored pants, his probably Italian leather shoes. Why would a complete stranger care whether the Murphys were able to keep the resort? “What’s in it for you?”

  “Have a seat and I’ll explain.” Jack waved a hand at the green overstuffed chair opposite him and waited for Gib to sit down. “This is a terrific piece of property. Unfortunately, it never went on the market. The owners got an offer they like without ever listing the property.” He steepled his fingers. “To be perfectly frank, I want this land. But the only way I can get it now is if I own the resort—as your partner.”

  Gib shook his head. “If you get the land, how does that help us keep the resort?”

  “We draw up an agreement that your family can run the resort as long as they like. The acreage your buildings sit on wouldn’t be developed and your guests would have beach access for as long as White Bear is open.”

  Gib considered Jack’s proposal. It was definitely something none of them even thought about before. And it would enable his grandparents and Matt to stay on at the resort. Hell, this idea just might work. “Let me make sure I’ve got this straight. We take you on as a partner. You get first dibs to buy the land. Then my grandparents and brother can keep running the resort as long as they like.”

  “That’s right.”

  “I have to admit, it has potential. Let me talk to my grandparents and see what they think.” He went over to the front window to gaze out at the woods. “What do you plan to do with the rest of the land?”

  “A resort, condos and rentals, lakefront views. No roughing it—an upscale-vacation type of place.”

  “Restaurant?”

  “Casual, but excellent food.”

  Gib cringed at the thought of this property all built up. The woods he and Matt had played in and explored as kids, cleared away, a few trees spared so they could provide shade for privately owned condo patios. “Swimming pool?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

  “It’s expected these days.”

  He didn’t want to be here when this thing came to pass. White Bear’s tiny log cottages would be like the wrong side of the tracks next to a big, shiny new neighbor. “I’ll talk to the rest of the family and get back to you.” He headed for the door, unable to shake the feeling that a front had blown in on this beautiful August day, and he wasn’t sure there was anything he could do about it.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “WAKE UP.” IZZY JOSTLED Shelly’s shoulder the next morning. “It’s our fifth day already and there’s lots to do.”

  “Wh-what?” Shelly pulled the covers off her head and cracked open one eye to peer at the clock. “Why are you waking me up so early?” she mumbled.

  “Because you told Gib he could join you for your nature-bonding ritual. And it’s almost time.” Izzy set a cup of coffee on the nightstand inches from Shelly’s face. She hadn’t seen Gib since yesterday morning, and much as she was trying to control her attraction to him, her stomach was fluttering with excitement.

  “I wouldn’t have said that if you hadn’t told him I have a stupid ritual in the first place. Why didn’t you tell him I was stretching?”

  “My brain was still recovering from our escape out of spider haven.” Izzy pulled open the curtains to brighten the room. “If you hadn’t gone bananas once you got in the sun, we wouldn’t be in this mess. Hurry up, it’s a beautiful day.”

  Shelly creaked out of bed and eyed Izzy grumpily. “What’s up with you, Miss Morning Sunshine? Cute shorts, cute top, cute hair, sparkly personality. Oh, wait, I get it.” She bobbed her head knowingly. “Of course. Beautiful Boy is going to be there.”

  “I always look like this.”

  Shelly snorted. “Whatever. So what do I do for a ritual?”

  “Anything you want. Just make it believable.” Izzy pointed at the alarm clock. “Hurry up or Gib might think we’re not coming.”

  “I thought this wasn’t about Gib, Miss I-look-like-a-million-bucks-all-the-time.” Shelly pulled on the same clothes she’d been wearing yesterday, and they reached the beach only five minutes late.

  Gib met them at the end of the trail, exceptionally adorable in his T-shirt and shorts, the epitome of rugged casual. “Morning. I was afraid you might not be coming.”

  “Not a chance,” Shelly said. “I hate missing my nature…” She glanced at Izzy.

  “Bonding ritual,” Izzy finished cheerily, trying to appear as though she weren’t compensating for Shelly’s lapse.

  “I’m here to greet the day, become one with nature.” Gib stepped into the sun and opened his arms expansively. “What do we do first?”

  “Follow me.” Shelly straightened her shoulders and began to walk like a ballerina, toes pointed outward, stopping every four steps to plié.

  “Is she serious?” Gib nodded at Shelly.

  “I told you, she swears by it,” Izzy said.

  Shrugging, Gib said, “Well, okay. I’ll give it a shot.”

  They fell into line behind Shelly, who suddenly began leaping gazellelike in large circles over the sand. Gib hesitated a second then followed, gamely springing across the beach. Izzy swallowed a laugh. She thought to herself that Andrew would never have stooped to such indecorous behavior, and it made her like Gib all the more.

  Just when Izzy thought she couldn’t hold it together another second, Shelly stopped and faced the lake, hands together in prayer position. She bowed toward the morning sun. “Everything we do has meaning,” she said as Izzy and Gib followed suit. “With this, we pay tribute to the peacefulness of the day. Now, grasp the hand of the person next to you and bring your right hand to your heart.”

  “What does this mean?” Gib took Izzy’s hand and squeezed it playfully. Warmth spread through her and she had to force herself to concentrate on Shelly’s reply.

  “It’s symbolic of the connection between us all. Friends, families, lovers.”

  Izzy threw a warning glare at Shelly, who replied with a serene nod, as if she was now in the self-fulfilled state of a yogi master or something.

  “Still holding hands,” Shelly said, “everyone reach for the sky. This is symbolic of our connection to the universe, the circle of life that makes us one with each other.” Shelly brought her arms to her sides and started to turn in a circle. “Spin, spin,” she said. “In this way we send our personal energy into the world.”

  This was bordering on ridiculous. Any minute, Gib was surely going to call them out.

  “Turn and repeat after me. The day is mine, the day is yours.”

  When neither of them said anything, Shelly sighed. “We’re almost done,” she said. “Please.”

  “The day is mine. The days is yours,” they repeated as they spun in circles. When his back was to Shelly, Gib made a face at Izzy. Hysteria bubbled up inside her and she broke eye contact to keep herself from doubling over.

  “True goodness awaits,” Shelly droned. “I will embrace the wholeness of the day. I will put aside my angers, fears, hatreds and insecurities. I will be pure and light and truth.”

  Izzy watched her, awestruck. All those years as a weather girl must have really honed her acting skills. They followed her, ballet-style, to the end of the pier and copied her as she thrust her arms upward and closed her eyes.

  After a long minute of silence, her arms weakening, Izzy cracked open one eye and elbowed Shelly in the ribs.

  “That’s almost all for today,” Shelly said so calmly Izzy could have sworn she’d taken a tranquilizer. “Now, sit on the end of the dock, cross-legged, holding hands.”

  “Seriously?” Izzy asked.

  “Sit,” Shelly commanded. “Because this is your first time, you must stay seated fifteen minutes feeling the karma flow in and out and around both of you. Then you can come up to the lodge for breakfast, which should consist only of plain oatmeal and dry toast.”

  Izzy opened her mouth to protest, but Shelly was already striding away down the dock.

  “What are you people
doing down here?” Mrs. Steinmetz asked from somewhere behind them.

  “Bonding with nature,” Shelly said pleasantly. “Getting in touch with our inner and outer karma.”

  “I love that sort of thing. Can I join you tomorrow?”

  Seated at the end of the dock, Izzy looked back to see Shelly tilt her head in contemplation. “Absolutely. The more the merrier. Just be down here at seven. Barefoot.”

  “I’ll tell Melvin. This would be beneficial for him, too.”

  Gib took Izzy’s hand in his and they sat together in silence for several minutes, the moment so comfortable, she almost wished it would never end.

  “So, it’s all about karma,” he said quietly. “I’ve never known what to think about the belief that our past actions create our future happiness or misery. Is it karma that brings people together? Or tears them apart? Is it karma that makes one business succeed while another fails? Lets one person live when another dies? Is it karma? Or is it just plain old luck?”

  She didn’t know how to answer. The wounds he was harboring were deep, his bitterness strong. He didn’t need any more pain. Especially not from the woman whose family was responsible for a lot of the stress he was feeling. Much as she liked Gib Murphy, the best thing for both of them would be if she kept her distance. Because if he ever learned the truth, she might be the straw that broke him. She let go of his hand and got to her feet. “Let’s go get our oatmeal.”

  GIB THREW THE BIG CANVAS drop cloth over the few pieces of furniture they had decided to keep in Hickory Hollow. “Painting the exterior went better than I expected yesterday,” he said to Matt. “Let’s hope this interior work is as easy.”

  Matt grumbled something unintelligible, and Gib didn’t bother to ask him to repeat himself. He knew his brother disliked maintenance work. He never used to like it, either, but for some reason, he was getting a perverse satisfaction from working on this cottage. Maybe, as Shelly would say, it was good karma.

  Matt knelt to stir a can of pale blue wall paint. “I can’t see any of this making a difference. All this work and—”

  “We don’t have a choice. As soon as we get this cottage finished, we can shoot some photos and use them for the new Web site and brochure. The designer said he should have a preliminary layout—”

  “So we can get the loan and keep the resort,” Matt said as though speaking by rote. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  Gib raised his eyebrows. “What I want? I’m doing this for you and the grandparents. Once we get things headed in the right direction, you and Grampa can take over again.”

  Matt sat back on his haunches and eyed his brother.

  “What?” Gib asked. He bent to wipe the dust off the dingy white baseboards.

  “I’m not staying.”

  “Not staying where?”

  “Here. I’m not staying. When you finish your manager stint, I’m done, too.” Matt stood. “I’m leaving in October for Montana. Already got a job lined up in Big Sky. And I’m volunteering for ski patrol, too.”

  Gib straightened quickly. “Holy shit. When did this come about?”

  “It’s been coming about for a long time.” Matt held up a hand. “And I’m sick of no one believing me. Two years ago I told the grandparents I was thinking about Montana, and they brought up how much they miss Mom and Dad. And how you were far away in war zones shooting pictures. And how they were so happy I didn’t have the need for adventure like Mom and Dad used to have. And you, too. I didn’t want to hurt them, so I buried it.”

  Gib knew exactly what was coming next. He remembered feeling the same way when he left White Bear.

  “Now it’s two years later and nothing’s changed except things have gotten even more boring around here. The world’s still passing me by.”

  “It just feels like that. Believe me, you’re not missing that much.” Gib taped off a window with blue painter’s tape.

  “Easy for you to say. You, who have been all over the planet already.”

  “I am eight years older.”

  Matt exhaled. “That’s right. And in eight years, we can talk about it again, and maybe I’ll have a different point of view.” He slapped a dry paintbrush against the palm of his hand. “When you refused to stay after college, that was all right by me. I knew you wanted to see the world. But then, suddenly, everyone was expecting me to be the heir apparent. And I don’t want to be. I’m going to Big Sky.”

  Gib stared at his younger brother a long minute as he frantically scrambled for some coherent thing to say. “Jeez, Matt, I thought you loved it here. That this was, like, your dream life. All the outdoors.”

  “Some of it is. The woods. The lake. The skiing. I hate the resort. If anyone should understand, I’d think it would be you. Once you got out, you hardly ever came home again.”

  Well, yeah…“But I was always halfway around the world. Not exactly close enough for weekend visits.”

  “You’re not fooling me. You didn’t want to get roped into working here again.”

  “Wow.” He could hardly believe it. Matt wanted out and, until this moment, Gib hadn’t had a clue. How had he gotten so out of touch with his own brother? He taped off another window and started on the baseboard.

  “That’s all you have to say? Wow?”

  “I’ll have a lot more to say once I decide what it is and how to say it,” Gib said. His brother seemed so young. He wanted to ask what’s the rush? but knew that would come right back in his face. “Obviously the grandparents don’t know.”

  “If they’d pay attention, ever, they might figure it out. But, no, I haven’t told them. I was leaning toward not telling anyone until I packed my car and drove away.”

  “Oh, that would be sweet.”

  “I don’t want them to be looking at me with sad faces for months. You need to understand—I’m out of here in October.” Matt’s voice was solid determination.

  “I get it. And, believe it or not, I understand. Completely. So, you think Grandma and Grampa can handle this place alone?”

  “Don’t try to guilt me,” Matt said, holding both hands up as though holding back Gib’s words. “I feel bad enough already.”

  “I’m not. You’ve been here, I haven’t. But, Matt, let’s face the facts. You don’t want this place. I don’t want it. The grandparents are seventy. Realistically, how much longer can they keep going at this?”

  Matt shrugged. “I don’t think they have a choice. All they have is this resort—no money.”

  Gib tore another piece of blue tape off the roll and pressed it down on the baseboard. What a frickin’ roller coaster. After meeting with that developer yesterday, he’d decided to put off any decisions until he knew for sure that the family wouldn’t qualify for the loan on their own. No reason to take on a partner if they didn’t need one. But now, with Matt wanting out…hell…“You think your leaving will change the grandparents’ minds about wanting to buy the land?” He knew the answer before Matt even said anything.

  “Are you kidding? Grandpa always says he was born here and he’s going to die here. They’ve been running the place for forty years—I’d say they’re set in their lifestyle by now.”

  “So you think retirement would be a no-go even if they had some money?”

  “Those two?” Matt spread a drop cloth on the floor along the wall. “Like I said, they live for this resort. It would about kill them to leave it behind.”

  “That’s what I thought. Problem is, if neither of us is going to be here to help and we succeed in getting the loan for the land—”

  “How are they going to run the resort?”

  “Yeah.”

  Matt pushed the drop cloth into the corner. “Hire more help, I guess. You know how much I love them—they’re like our parents. But I have to go, no matter how much they want me to stay.”

  “Ah, the impatience of youth—”

  “Like you’re an old man.”

  “Lately, I’ve been feeling like one. You know, the grandp
arents are just afraid something will happen to you. Like it did to Mom and Dad…” And almost to me.

  “Yeah, and I’m afraid nothing will happen to me. That’s an even worse prospect.”

  Gib remembered feeling exactly the same way once. He opened the old wooden ladder and positioned it near a window as he considered Matt’s announcement and the discussion he’d had yesterday with Jack Taylor.

  This latest development didn’t change anything. Not really. His grandparents would still want to buy the land. And Gib still wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t do everything he could to help them get the loan. Until that avenue closed, Taylor’s proposal had to stay on the back burner. “Don’t say anything to Grandma and Grampa for a while. Let’s get this cottage finished, the Web site designed and up, the brochure done. Then let me talk to the bank again. If they refuse us the loan, your leaving will be a nonissue. Because, one way or another, everything’s going to change.”

  IZZY OPENED THE WISCONSIN map on the old oak front desk and smoothed out the folds, rotating it right side up for Gib’s grandfather.

  “All righty, then,” he said. “Let me see. ’Course, there’s the well-known places where Dillinger and Capone and some of those big-name gangsters used to stay. Manitowish Waters, that’s where the big Dillinger shoot-out was. But there’s less-known spots, too. Near as I remember, there’s quite a few around here with stories of their own.” He ran a finger along a road on the map. “You know, hardly anyone knows Capone stayed here at our place for years before he built his hideout in Couderay. My granddad said he modeled his lodge after White Bear. ’Course, he could have been making that up to impress us kids.” He took a pen and paper from the drawer. “Anyhow, you want to know where some of those less-known places are?”

  “I think it would add perspective,” Izzy said. “Can you give us directions?”

  He blew out a breath. “All those little back roads…and some are under construction. Even with directions, you’re likely to get lost. More than once.” He pushed open the front door and shouted for Gib, waving him in. Izzy felt her face flush and she bent toward the map.