The situation at the grocery store had felt very similar to that. And that’s when it hit her. Justine had, unwittingly as it might be, set herself up for round two of humiliation for the whole town to see.
There would be no wedding, and folks would come to their own conclusions: One, that Justine never had a man in the first place, which was true. Or two, that she wasn’t able to keep the love of a man. They might even believe that she never would, which might also be true…
She’d reached the high-speed freeway before even thinking to turn on the heat. The stiffness of her fingers reminded Justine of how cold it was today. It would be a short-lived cold front, thank heavens. The temperature would shift back up to an average of seventy-two degrees for the weekend’s festivities. Perfect weather for all the outdoor fun, food, and games. When it got late, the temps would drop just in time for the bonfire.
She sighed. How many times had she seen Gramps cuddle up behind Grandma to warm her up by that fire?
The image was as bitter as it was sweet. She loved the way Gramps loved her. Was glad she had memories like those to cherish. But for the second year in a row, Justine wouldn’t have Grandma there with her magic touch, helping make sure the events ran just so. And Gramps, bless him, wouldn’t have his wife to cuddle when it got cool.
At least, she told herself with a nod, he had been well loved. That final thought, as pleasant as it might be, held hints of bitterness too. It led to a question she didn’t like asking, but one she couldn’t ignore forever: Would she ever know what it was like to be loved?
Chapter 3
Brittle sticks crunched beneath Burke’s patent leather shoes as he surveyed the wide stretch of uninterrupted land. So many possibilities; he’d have plenty of interest.
He inhaled a deep breath of crisp, pine-scented air and turned back to the local realtor who’d helped complete the sell a month prior. “This is good,” he said. “Just as my client hoped.”
“I have to warn you,” Lenny Foster said, shifting his weight from one foot to the next. “The town…they’re not going to take kindly to your client, whoever he is.”
They never did. Hence, the reason Burke preferred his anonymity. Something he maintained by playing the broker, not the new owner. In reality, he was both.
“He can handle it,” Burke assured.
The agent, a man Burke guessed to be in his mid-twenties like him, ran a hand through his red hair and shifted his weight some more. “I checked out the LLC the land was purchased under so I could look up your client’s actual name, you know? But it only led to more entities owned by other entities that own more and more land. Like multi-million dollar properties all over the east coast.”
Burke bristled but tried not to show it. Small town people were so nosey. “He prefers his anonymity.”
“I’d say so,” he agreed with a humorless laugh.
Even if good ol’ Lenny somehow got to the bottom of those entities, he’d only get so far as to discover the name of Burke’s business partner, Greg Beckham—the only man who could sign off on a closing in Burke’s place.
“I just wonder what has him wandering from one end of the country to the other. What, did he already own all of Manhattan, Long Island, and most of Maine too?”
What caused the new owner to wander out here? The only surviving family he had, that was what.
Burke feigned boredom at the question while squinting into the distance. “I couldn’t tell you.”
“Humph. Well, I’m not kidding about what I said. The town…this is a particularly important piece of property for Piney Falls. The seller, he might not have entertained the offer had it not been so…generous.”
Sad that Lenny thought the offer was generous. Sure, he’d paid full asking price, but it was nowhere near what the property was worth.
“Anyway,” the agent said. “The purchase won’t stay a secret for long.”
Burke lifted a brow. “Though it’s remained secret for nearly a month now?”
Lenny gave him a sheepish grin. “As of yet, yes.”
“Thanks for the warning.” Burke’s next step was to hire a photographer to get aerial shots of the property. Perhaps he could use the one who’d photographed his last two purchases. The kid was young, less likely to blab about the quiet guy sweeping through town, buying property all over the west coast. And Burke would make the drive worth his while.
He glanced up at the tall redwoods, surrounding pines, and hilly landscape. It was a pretty piece of land, he’d give him that much. But there was plenty of unbothered land around here. He was sure the town would adapt to whatever his potential buyers had in store.
“Well,” Burke finally said with a nod. “Thank you, again, for meeting me out here and pointing out the borders. I’ll take it from here.”
The agent gulped and nodded. “My pleasure. I, um, the commission was too good for me to pass up, but I suspect once the town hears that it’s sold, they’ll be as unhappy with me as they will your buyer. And the seller for that matter…”
Wow, he really wasn’t letting this go, was he? “In that case, good luck to you.” Burke trailed down the sloped dirt toward their vehicles.
“I look forward to seeing what they do with the place,” Lenny Foster hollered, his voice bouncing as he followed behind.
Patches of sparse grass poked through layers of dry leaves and pine needles. Burke stopped at his rental car, a modest BMW so as not to raise any brows, and spun back to face him. “You won’t see much action any time soon. He usually waits on his properties awhile.”
Lenny sighed. “That’s a relief. Say, how long are you in town?”
Burke thought back on the meeting in Lorraine’s office yesterday. It all depended on when she scheduled the morning show. “Through Thanksgiving at least,” he answered. The thought of his name being in the spotlight, as temporary as it might be, made his stomach turn. Or perhaps something else about it put Burke on edge; he’d waited so many years to be a part of his family’s lives, but what it he didn’t quite fit in?
“You have good timing,” Lenny said, looking a lot lighter suddenly. His shoulders had lifted back into place. His grin had too. “It’s Piney Falls’ autumn festival this weekend.” He pointed to a hidden spot on the hill, close to the property’s far edge. “It takes place in that massive lodge up there. Great food, booths, competitions, and a bonfire where the locals like to sneak off to make out.”
The locals. Heh. The chances of Burke attending some little festival in the middle of nowhere were zero. “Thanks for letting me know,” he said. “I’ll consider it.”
“Sure thing. I’d offer to go with you, but I’ll be out of town.” The realtor cracked open the door to his sedan. “Where are you staying for the week?”
The thought occurred to Burke that Lenny was likely familiar with the bulk of the land in the small town. “I rented out the cabin up on Wilshire. Alongside the creek.”
The man’s eyes widened. “Oh, nice place. I’ve told Mrs. Walsh she’d never get any bites with nightly prices like hers. Turns out she found the one man coming through town willing to pay it.”