Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

The door to Mildred’s house swung open, and Jason crossed his arms as she peered out from behind the door. “What are you doing here?” Mildred asked. Her white hair was set in pink foam curlers, and she wore a nightgown as though she’d been in bed.

Jason let out an exasperated sigh. “What in the hell do you think I’m doing here? I just spent the last forty-five minutes trying to find out what happened to you. You were gone from the Depot when I went back, and then I checked the hospital and swung by the police station to find Dan Klein—”

“I’m flattered. Sounds like you were worried about me.” She winked. “But I’m just fine, honey. Thanks for checking. Good night.”

She started to shut the door, but Jason shoved the toe of his shoe in the doorway before she could, wedging his way closer to her. “Shouldn’t you be in the hospital?”

Mildred scrutinized his expression, a faint smolder of surprise in her eyes. “You don’t really care, do you?”

“I . . .”

The thing was, he hadn’t even really considered that possibility. When he and Jen had gone their separate ways after that disastrous conversation, the only other thing he’d been able to focus on was finding Mildred. His shoulders loosened. “I care, Mildred. You scared me back there.”

“It was all part of the plan, sonny. I’m in perfect health. How’d it go with Jen?” Mildred gave him a bright grin.

She pretended to be sick?

Dumbfounded, Jason stepped back. His arms flexed as he set his hands on the back of his neck. “Are you serious?” A bristle of annoyance replaced his surprise. “Do you have any idea what you did? Jen is furious with me. And I had to tell her about Kevin being dead. She said she never wants to speak to me again.”

“Well, what did you expect to happen? The girl wasn’t going to be thrilled to find out you lied to her.” Mildred gave an exaggerated shiver and looked over her shoulder. “My warm bed is calling me back. Glad I could help.”

“Mildred, this isn’t funny.” Jason’s eyes narrowed at her. “I don’t know what to do.” The hurt in Jen’s eyes, the way she’d looked at him with a mixture of contempt and confusion. She believed the worst about him.

And the thought of that was eating a hole inside his stomach like battery acid.

The night before, she’d been in his arms and said she liked him. He didn’t know what he was doing with her anymore. He’d thought he could rid himself of the attraction to her with one night, but it was like she branded his skin with her touch.

And the whole situation with the inheritance . . . he’d made a nightmare out of it. “What do I do?” He didn’t mean to ask aloud, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mildred pursed her lips. “Apologize. Then leave her alone. Kevin loved her, and he let her go. So can you.” Mildred yawned, reaching up and clearing a cobweb from the light beside the door. “Why don’t we have lunch in a few days? Before you go back to Chicago. You can tell me all about how it went.”

Jason nodded and stepped back from the door as she shut it. He set his hand on the closed door, fighting the urge to knock and ask her to let him inside. Mildred’s advice had been concise but also something he didn’t want to hear.

But we don’t have that sort of relationship.

Yet here he was on her doorstep.

He hurried back to his car, the engine still making mechanical clicks as it cooled. He was no more a doting grandson than she was a nurturing grandmother who offered a warm embrace when he needed to vent.

Jason finished off the breakfast smoothie he’d gotten from a juice bar and tossed it into the trash bin outside. The smoothie hadn’t helped the feeling of nausea that had settled in his stomach since the night before.

He’d gotten a lousy night of sleep, tossing and turning most of the night. When dawn had come, he’d wanted nothing more than to send Jen a text message and see if she was still working at the guest lodge. She’d been so close all night.

Instead, he’d waited until nearly ten to leave his cabin, which meant he’d been starving by the time he reached Main Street.

Running his hand through his hair, he released a tense breath. The quaint buildings of the historic street were decked out in Christmas tinsel and lights, the crisp air of the last few days of fall laden with the scent of pine and sugar from baked goods somewhere. He smirked. Probably Bunny’s Café.

“What am I even doing here?” Jason murmured in a low, almost inaudible tone.

He zipped his jacket higher.

Striding past his car, he headed down Main Street, unsure of where to go. Jen was probably working, and he’d done enough to her. Space was probably a good thing until he could figure out how to apologize to her.

Then came the hard part: telling her about the inheritance. Given how she’d reacted to the news about Kevin, he no longer had any confidence that she would take it well.

Once you tell her, she’ll be out of your life for good.

Jason’s gaze fell on one of the few buildings on Main that didn’t exude the holiday cheer surrounding them. Instead, the building seemed more like he felt: bleak, dark, empty. The windows still had the remnants of vinyl lettering from some sort of mailing and copy center, but that business was long gone. But across the doorway and windows on either side, the historic name of the building was still there, stamped in wood. Price’s Hardware.

“There’s even this old hardware store that used to belong to Colby’s great-grandfather. It would be perfect.”

Jen’s musings about the building where she longed to have a bakery had slipped past Jason in terms of impact. Colby’s great-grandfather. Hell, that could have been her grandfather for all he knew, though the phrasing wasn’t quite right. But she hadn’t meant her grandfather. She’d meant his.

He had exactly one memory of his mom’s father, and he didn’t know how old he’d been. Just that he was sitting at a dusty old counter and had fallen, hitting his head. But his grandpa had scooped him up, set him back on the counter, and given him a lollipop.

He couldn’t have been very old. Mom’s father died when he was three.

Jason crossed the street, heading straight for the building.

He couldn’t picture Mom’s father if he tried. But Mildred had said he looked like the Prices, and he imagined someone looking like him, palm on that brass-handled door. Day in, day out, going to work.

Does Mildred still own it?

He knew nothing about this part of his history. Nothing about who that man had been.

If Mildred owned it, would she be willing to sell it? He peered through the glass. Jen was right. The place was a wreck. The walls appeared to have been taken down to the studs, then covered with thick plastic. Wires hung down from the ceiling.

This was where Jen wanted to have a bakery?

Wreck was a generous term. Dumpster fire was more accurate.

“You thinking of taking up real estate here in town?” a voice came from behind him.

Ned stood a few feet behind him, hands in the pockets of his peacoat.

Jason stiffened, then looked back at him through the window's reflection. “I’m not interested in discussing my personal affairs with you, Vickers.”

“Affairs. That’s an interesting word, isn’t it?” Ned stepped forward so they were shoulder to shoulder. “You told Bill Powell the girl in town here is your fiancée, didn’t you? That’s the story you’re trying to spin here?”

Jason gave him a sardonic smile. “No comment.”

“You know I’m going to get to the bottom of what you’re doing here. And who that woman is. I hear she has a kid.”

“There you are.” TJ sauntered up toward Jason, then handed him a paper bag with what appeared to be a sub inside. He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out an envelope, which he handed to Ned. “This is for you.”

Ned lifted a brow. “What is it?”

“Restraining order. Stay away from my client and stop stalking his girlfriend.” TJ winked at Ned and set a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Ready to go back to your car?”

Whatever TJ’s quirks, Jason really couldn’t pay him enough for all he did. Jason didn’t bother to give Ned a second look as he headed down the sidewalk with TJ. When they were out of earshot, Jason asked, “Was that a real restraining order?”

“Yup. But it doesn’t mean he’ll stay away from Jen.”

“Vickers knows Jen has a kid.”

“It was only a matter of time.” TJ stopped abruptly and snatched his sandwich back from Jason. “My cheesesteak is getting cold.”

“Keep him away from Jen and her family.”

“Jason, I’m going to say this again as nicely as I can. I’m not a bodyguard.” TJ peeled back the foil paper from the sandwich and took a bite. “It’s over. Go home. Consider this one a failure. You’re going to lose.”

Jason backed up toward his car and shook his head. “Cavanaughs don’t give up, TJ.”

“Until they make bad decisions and destroy their lives.”

Jason cringed and unlocked the car door. TJ couldn’t possibly know how closely he grazed the truth. “You just keep doing what I pay you to do, TJ. It’ll be worth your time if you succeed.”

He climbed in, wanting to shut himself away from TJ’s comeback. As Jason started the engine and sped away from the curb, he couldn’t shake the gloom that settled over him.

Go home.

And then what? Let Ned find out about Colby without telling Jen about it first?

He could survive losing the company well enough, even if his grandfather’s loyal employees wouldn’t. He’d find another job, sell some investments, make some others.

But it wasn’t just about that anymore, was it?

His mind felt like it was spinning. As he turned off of Main Street and headed back toward the cabins, a road sign that had brought him from the highway caught his attention. That was all he needed to do. Hop on that highway. Drive home. Leave it all back here. TJ could pack up his belongings at the cabin if necessary.

And he’d go back to Chicago where there would be no Ned, no ghosts from his past, no Mildred. Only forward and onward.

Without Jen and Colby.

He continued toward the cabin, unable to turn the car around.

Coming down here had been the last desperate act of a drowning man.

The metaphor stung, and he gripped the wheel more tightly.

“You should have been watching Kevin. You’re always busy goofing off. Clowning around. Well, look what your worthless clowning around has cost us now, Jason.”

His grandfather’s voice seared into his memory, sang in his ear as the car rumbled over the gravel road.

He pulled the car to a stop and sat in the car, his hands gripping the wheel so hard that they hurt.

You’re a jerk.

A failure.

Worthless.

He drew a sharp breath and lifted his head, staring at the dash.

Go home.

He put his hand on the shifter to throw the car into reverse when a movement from the porch of the cabin caught his attention.

Jen stood from the front porch swing and started toward him.