A Promise to Keep Page 6

  She started her car and cranked the heater and huddled in her seat wearing Jed’s T-shirt and sweats. Within a matter of minutes, heat had filled the interior and the windows were clouded with steam.

  She thumped her head against the headrest. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

  Even though she knew it was pointless, she pulled her cell phone out of her briefcase and tested the signal. It was entirely flat.

  She opened her contacts, selected Gage and quickly typed in a text. Her thumb barely hesitated before she hit Send. The message would be delivered the moment there was enough signal.

  She took a deep, cleansing breath and tossed the phone back into her briefcase.

  And then she waited for the rain to end.

  Chapter Five

  “No. Not only no, but hell no.”

  April turned the phone to show Archer the screen and the text message she’d received from her boss.

  It was Tuesday. Three days since the rainstorm.

  Gage had sent the response to her on Sunday. She’d received it right in the middle of Easter dinner at her aunt and uncle’s horse farm.

  He’d ignored every attempt she’d made to reach him in the time since. When April called the office, his secretary had told her that he’d gone on a short trip.

  “You’ve known Gage a long time,” she said to Archer. “You’ve got to convince him I’m right.”

  Archer gave her a tilted smile. His green eyes were full of a sort of biting mirth. “I give the man legal advice, doll. That’s it.”

  She huffed disgustedly. “Don’t call me doll. It’s disrespectful.”

  “I have the utmost respect for dolls,” he assured, not in the least fazed. He nodded toward her phone. “Gage obviously wants you working on this. He denied your request to be taken off the deal. Clearly. You may not think you’re the right man for the job, but he does.” Finished with his summation, he picked up his icy glass of beer.

  Even though one of Archer’s offices was in nearby Braden, they were sitting at a corner booth in Ruby’s Diner because he had a court appearance with a client in Weaver later.

  Through the window beside them, all vestiges of the rainstorm were gone. Easter was past and it was as if spring had suddenly sprung. Nearly an entire month late, according to the calendar, but who was counting?

  Temperatures had suddenly warmed enough to melt away the last bits of snow. Flowers were already poking up their cheerful, colorful heads. Grass was greening. Trees were budding.

  The only flies in the ointment were her grandparents still barely speaking and April’s inability to both quit the assignment she’d been given or succeed at it.

  She rotated her own glass of soda between her fingers. “I should have stuck to marketing,” she said. “That’s how I started working for Stanton in the first place, you know. I was doing PR for Huffington’s expansion in Colorado Springs. Stanton was a partner on the project.”

  Archer laughed. “He hired you away from your dad?”

  She nodded, almost smiling at the memory. Her dad hadn’t been upset about her branching out beyond the family fold; he’d done the same himself. But he’d been somewhat put out having to explain to his wife that their daughter was moving away to Denver. “It doesn’t matter how many other projects I’ve worked on. I’m obviously not cut out for bringing in deals like this.”

  “Not all deals involve situations like this,” Archer reminded. “And I thought you were all about the ‘never give up’ tradition.”

  “It’s easy to say,” she muttered. “Not so easy to do.”

  “Yeah, well.” He shifted and pulled a folder from the briefcase sitting on the bench beside him. “Maybe this’ll help change your mind.”

  He flipped open the folder on the Formica tabletop and turned it so it was facing her. He tapped the report inside. “Louis Snead. Otis Lambert’s only living relative. At least that we could find. He’s a distant cousin. Lives in Texas. Forty-seven years old. No career to speak of. Last job was selling used cars in a buy-here, pay-here lot. Before that, he spent a couple years at a phone bank. Defaulted on a mortgage a good ten years ago. Been unemployed for several months and he’s in debt up to his porn-esque mustache.”

  “I take it you’re trying to tell me he’d jump at the possibility of inheriting the Rambling.”

  “I guarantee he’s not interested in taking over running the ranch. Judging by his past, he’ll turn everything for a quick sale. Of course, that’s only if Lambert dies without a will that instructs otherwise.”

  “And we don’t know if he has one.” She gathered up a hopeful tone. “You think Snead would deal with Stanton Development?”

  “I think Snead will deal with whoever gets to him first with cash money,” Archer said. “Look. I’m a fan of the way Gage operates. But as successful as he is, there are deeper pockets out there. And frankly, it’s not going to be long before there are more developers than just you lining up at the scent.” He spread his hands. “The minerals and the water? The State itself has a vested interest in Rambling Mountain. They’ll be part of the equation if there’s any way they can be. Maybe Snead would care about the way the land is handled. Without actually talking to the guy, it’s all speculation.”

  He rested his arm on the table and leaned toward her. “Considering Lambert’s situation, if you’re really interested in protecting his interests, the best way to do that is to make sure Stanton Development is first in line.”

  “He doesn’t want to meet with me! I’ve tried twice.” She didn’t count the last time, during the rainstorm. Jed may have suggested the time for the meeting, but he’d never expected her to drive up the mountain when the storm was descending. She felt certain that would have been Otis’s assumption, as well.

  If the old man hadn’t been sleeping, she would probably have never made it inside the cabin, rainstorm or not.

  “I don’t know what to do to convince him to see me,” she said, which just earned her a steady look from Archer.

  She let out an impatient huff. “Fine. I know. I try again.”

  He gave her a wink. “There you go, doll.”

  She huffed again and rolled her eyes.

  His smile merely widened.

  * * *

  The next morning, April drove up the mountain for the fourth time. The black T-shirt and sweatpants were folded on the passenger seat, freshly laundered. She also had a plastic container of leftover glazed ham from the family’s Easter meal three days before.

  The sky was as blue as a robin’s egg and as she drove up the winding road it was hard not to get distracted by the spectacular view. She was becoming so familiar with the road that she knew when to slow for the hidden curves and when she could speed up through a straightaway. She knew where to avoid the potholes and where to watch for fresh slides of rock.

  What she wasn’t familiar with, however, was the sight of a man sitting directly on the edge of the drop-off about half a mile below the location of the barricade.

  He was old. Wizened. And leaning so far forward that it looked as though he might simply roll off, right into the sky.

  Feeling like her nerves were shooting straight out the top of her head, she swerved to a stop and shut off the engine. There was enough room for one car on the road, but not two, and simply walking beside the car toward the man was enough to make her feel slightly queasy. “Mr. Lambert?” The man couldn’t possibly be anyone else. “Mr. Lambert, are you all right?”

  His head turned and his eyes squinted at her from a pallid, lined face. “If I planned to do a header off the edge, I’d a’ done it by now. I wanna be buried on my mountain. Not at the base of it down there.”

  His voice was stronger than his appearance suggested. But the assurance was also followed by a racking cough that had her breaking into a jog to close the last several feet.

  She reached him,
extending a hand but he just waved her off, yanking a blue folded bandanna out of his jacket to hold to his mouth. Beneath the jacket, she could see his thin shoulders jerk before the coughing finally subsided.

  He might not intend to jump, but that terrible cough was enough to knock anyone off their feet, much less a weak old man from his precarious perch.

  She pressed her hand against her thumping heart and gingerly knelt on the road near him. “Why don’t I drive you back up closer to the house?” Better yet, drive him straight to the hospital, because he looked like he belonged in a hospital bed. She knew better than to make that suggestion, though.

  “Walked down on my own steam,” he said crankily. “I can walk back up on it, too.”

  She shifted until she was sitting on her rear, legs crossed like a school kid. She really didn’t like being so close to the edge and the jagged rocks below. “Not sure I could do that from here,” she admitted. “I’m April Reed.”

  “I know who you are.” He peered at her with faded blue eyes. “Owe you my apology, too.”

  Everything she’d ever heard about the man hadn’t led her to think he was an apologizing sort. “Not at—”

  He cut her off with the wave of a gnarled hand. “You make a lot of these kind of deals?”

  She wasn’t going to lie. “This would be my first.”

  “I ain’t selling,” he said bluntly. “Was never my intention to waste your time, though. Entertainin’ as it’s been seeing ol’ Jed twist a little.”

  “Twist?” It seemed a cold way to treat the man who was caring for him. And there was no doubt that Jed cared about Otis.

  “Where you’re concerned,” he said.

  She frowned, moistening her lips. “I can’t imagine what you mean.”

  “Then you’re not as smart as you look, girl. I’ve known Jed five years now. That man’s got an eye for you.”

  Her stomach fluttered and she pressed her lips together. This was getting way, way off track. She steered it back. “Coming to Weaver is never a waste of time for me.”

  He pocketed the bandanna. “I know you got kin here. Ain’t selling to your grandpa, either.”

  “Well, I guess if you had been going to sell anything to Squire, you could have done so by now.”

  His thin lips twisted in what she supposed was a smile.

  A bird flew past, its long, tapered wings flapping elegantly. They both watched it circle and dip, then rise again and fly out of sight.

  It felt almost holy, sitting there looking at the magnificence spread before them. Some would want to share it. Some, like him, obviously wanted to hold it close. She could actually understand both ways of thinking.

  “It is really beautiful here, Mr. Lambert. I can understand why you’ve never wanted it changed in all these years. If that’s something you’re concerned about, Stanton Development could make sure it’s preserved the way you want.”

  He squinted even more. “When I called that company o’ yours, I expected your boss to come.”

  “Gage.” She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice. “I’m sorry he didn’t realize that. I’m sure he would have never sent me if he had. If that’s why you’ve changed your mind about—”

  “Haven’t changed my mind about nothin’.”

  She couldn’t help feeling stymied. “Mr. Lambert, why did you contact Stanton Development, then? If not because you know about our policies of responsible development and—”

  “I knew your boss’s mama, once upon a time.”

  Her words dried as her mind caught up.

  “Althea Stanton,” he murmured. “Helluva woman. Was real sorry to hear she died a while back.” His attention was still trained out beyond the mountainside. “Was curious about her son.”

  April studied his profile while her mind ticked busily. Gage’s mother had died before April had started working for him, but he still had a framed photo of her in his Denver office. She knew he had a younger brother somewhere and that was it. “He’s a good man, Mr. Lambert. Doing business with him—”

  Otis gestured yet again. More impatiently. “I got plans of my own for the Rambling.”

  “Do they involve your cousin? Mr. Snead?”

  Otis snorted, setting off another coughing fit. “Girl, do you think I’m stupid?” he asked when his shoulders stopped shaking.

  “Then have you shared your plans with anyone?”

  He gave a cackle of a laugh. “Got me a sweet little will.”

  Relief swept through her. Not because she believed the presence of a will helped Stanton’s cause in any way. If anything, it most likely complicated it. But a will would make things simpler for everyone Otis left behind.

  For Jed.

  As if her thoughts had conjured the man, she spotted him and that scary dog heading on foot down the road toward them.

  She quickly pushed to her feet and brushed off the seat of her pants. “I won’t take up more of your time, Mr. Lambert.” She extended her hand to him. “I hope things turn out well for you.” It seemed like such a paltry thing to say in light of his health. “I know my grandfather would want me to tell you that if you should need anything—”

  He let out that crack of a laugh again. “Your grandpa is just gonna wanna know if he’s finally getting a chance at that pass of land he’s wanted for fifty years.”

  Since he was probably right, she couldn’t make herself deny it. “People like you and Squire are the heart of this land, Mr. Lambert. I can promise you. Like respects like.”

  He made a sound and finally took her hand. Giving it more of a shaking squeeze than an actual shake. “Be careful on the road,” he said a little gruffly.

  Her eyes suddenly burned. “I will. You, too.”

  Then he noticed Jed and the dog approaching and she went to her car to retrieve the clothes and the container of ham.

  She met Jed halfway and his fingers brushed hers as she handed everything over to him. “Thank you.” Her voice sounded thick and she quickly turned away, jogging back to her car before she made a total ass out of herself.

  She got behind the wheel, started the engine and crept past them, because she had to go farther up the road before there was a space wide enough for her to turn around.

  When she’d done so and passed the two men again, Otis was standing, obviously leaning against Jed as they slowly headed back up the mountain road.

  Jed’s head turned and he watched her as she passed.

  She drove back down to Weaver with Otis’s words circling in her mind.

  That man’s got an eye for you.

  * * *

  “So your boss wants you to stay here.” Piper read the text message on April’s phone before handing it back. “Explain to me again why that’s a bad thing?”

  April propped her elbow on the bar and threaded her fingers through her hair. “He still thinks I’m going to be able to bring in a deal on Rambling Mountain. It’s not going to happen.” And she still hadn’t been able to get the annoying man to return her calls.

  Now it was Friday night already and she was having appetizers with Piper at Colbys.

  “Okay, so let’s not talk about work anymore.”

  “Fine. Want to talk about my grandparents still not speaking? Let me tell you. Last Sunday’s Easter dinner was a real delight.”

  Piper made a face. “Want to talk about my homeroom class? Ben Scalise and Lucas Taggart glued all the school desks shut with construction adhesive this morning before the bell. Principal Pope was so mad he wanted to expel them both. They’re suspended for a week, and Lord only knows what sort of punishment they’ll get as a means of restitution.”

  “Ouch.”

  “And that was just the start of my day,” Piper said. She drained her lemon-drop martini and gestured to the bartender. Jane wasn’t pulling duty that night. Instead, there was a
lanky young man April didn’t know serving up the drinks. “How is it that I studied theater in college and end up a teacher and you study marketing and end up a real estate developer?”

  “I’m not a developer. Gage Stanton is.” She toyed with her own glass, still half-full, and thought about the drink that Jed had ordered but not touched. “You and I would be better off at a yoga class tonight or something. Moods we’re in? Liquor and happy hour appetizers are probably not the wisest course.”

  “I’m sure you’re right, but that just sounds like way too much work.” Piper waved at the bartender again. “Christian’s new,” she said from the side of her mouth. Then she spun around on her seat until her back was to the bar top. “What’re you wearing to the fund-raiser tomorrow?”

  “I dunno.” She’d left her favorite black jeans in Otis Lambert’s dryer up on the mountain. She could have worn them with a dressy blouse. She hadn’t brought a lot of options for this trip. “I suppose I’ll borrow something. You?”

  “Oh, I bought a dress that I can’t really afford.”

  April chuckled. “Good for you.” She pushed away from the bar. “I’m hitting the ladies. Order another round if you ever get the bartender’s attention. If we’re going to drown our week’s stresses, let’s do it right. We don’t even have to worry about driving home. Weaver might not have rideshare services yet, but I have a connection with the sheriff’s department.” She grinned. “Pretty sure we can get courtesy rides.”

  “Ooh, I love connections.” Piper crossed her ankles and swung her legs back and forth.

  April worked her way through the Friday night crowd to the restrooms. She had to wait in line to take her turn and when she headed back to her place at the bar, she stopped short at the familiar figure occupying her stool next to Piper.

  Her stomach sank, making her regret the number of spicy wings she’d consumed.

  She rejoined Piper, who was giving her an arch look, and managed to find a friendly expression from somewhere. “Kenneth,” she greeted. “What an...interesting coincidence.”