Dress Me in Wildflowers (13 page)

“How did the meeting go, dear?” Faye asked.

“A better question is, how was the pie?” Tammie added.

Farrin looked at Faye. “Unfortunately, the meeting didn’t go well. They are set on tearing down the inn to make way for a parking lot. God knows why.” She turned her attention to Tammie. “And Thelma’s pie was excellent as always.”

“And the company?”

“Fine.”

“Just fine?”

Farrin leaned forward and propped her forearms across her knees. “You can fish all you like, but you’re never going to find anything beyond a casual acquaintance between me and Drew Murphy. We’ve grown up. We’re different people than we used to be.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing.”

Farrin rolled her eyes, then turned her attention to Faye. “How did such a sweet woman like you have such a contrary daughter?”

Faye smiled. “Sometimes contrariness is also a good thing.”

Farrin lifted her arms. “I give up. I’m surrounded by crazy people.”

Tammie pitched a decorative pillow at her, but Farrin blocked it before it made contact.

“That’s the thanks I get for giving in to your request for me to stay a couple extra days?”

Tammie smiled, a little devilish smile. “I’m just getting started.”

Farrin pitched the pillow back at Tammie with more speed and force than her friend had used, and it connected with her forehead.

“Why, you . . . ” Tammie jumped up with retribution in her eyes.

Farrin squealed and ran down the hall. She made it to her room and got the door shut and locked before Tammie reached her. “Ha!”

“You have to come out sometime.”

“And you have to sleep.” Farrin leaned against the door, and her smile widened. This took her back to so many similar skirmishes as the two of them had been growing up. The one when Farrin had told Jeremy Sutton in the third grade that Tammie liked him. When Tammie had sent Farrin’s name and address in to get a free trial issue of
Playgirl
. The time both of them had developed an infatuation with David Boreanaz and had disagreed about who would end up marrying him. “Hey, Tammie.”

“Yes?”

Farrin pictured Tammie leaning against the opposite side of the door. “Thanks for talking me into staying. I didn’t realize I needed a break.”

“I’m not sure I talked you into it. I think it was the inn.”

“If it was just the inn, I’d be on a plane in the morning.”

“Well then, I’m glad I’m so persuasive. Bodes well for my business.”

“Speaking of business, I need to do some work.”

“Some break.”

“Trust me, this is a break.”

“Okay. I need to call the kids anyway. See you in the morning.”

“Goodnight.” She listened as Tammie retreated down the hall. Then it hit her that she didn’t have anyone to call. Unless you counted the dozen people who’d left messages on her voice mail. But those were business calls, not the same at all.

To keep from acknowledging the loneliness that threatened, she crossed the room to the desk and slid into the chair. She flipped open her sketchpad to one of the Oscar gown designs. But after only a few minutes, she gave up concentrating on hems and fabrics and flipped to a clean page.

The lead of the pencil scratched against the pristine paper in the quiet of the room. A scene appeared in which the Ivy Springs Inn regained its glory. The window frames sported a fresh coat of white paint contrasting nicely against the aged brick. The gleaming windows looked in on a long, plain wooden table set with pewter dishes and carved bowls filled with fruits and vegetables, hot bread and mounds of fried chicken. The gardens burst to life with a riot of color and tidy rows of vegetables and herbs.

Farrin stopped and looked at the detail of the drawing. She flipped to another clean sheet and instead of drawing began listing ideas, even ones that would never fly in Oak Valley.

She looked up and stared at the handmade quilt on the guest bed. Dreaming had gotten her through many a tough time. But maybe that was what was truly at the heart of Oak Valley’s problems. Its residents had forgotten how to dream.

****

Farrin stood on the downtown sidewalk Monday morning wondering if she’d lost her mind. How often did someone go to see an attorney because of a dream?

She took a slow, deep breath before entering the door.

“Can I help you?” asked the secretary in the front office.

“Yes, I’d like to speak with Drew Murphy.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No, but if you’ll tell him Farrin Taylor is here, I’m sure he’ll be able to spare a few minutes.” If nothing else, curiosity might prompt him to squeeze her into his schedule.

The secretary buzzed Drew with her “I can’t believe people who just walk in without an appointment” voice. “Farrin Taylor is here to see you.”

Farrin almost smiled. Here sat the first person she’d encountered since returning to Oak Valley who wasn’t in awe of her. In a strange way, it was refreshing.

“Farrin, what a surprise,” Drew said as he emerged from a short hallway. “Come on back.”

The man should wear blue every single day. The cornflower shirt and navy silk tie made his dark eyes and hair even more attractive than normal.

“I’m sorry I don’t have an appointment.”

Drew waved away her concern as he sank into the leather chair behind his desk and motioned for her to have a seat opposite him. “You caught me on a slower morning. I don’t have court until 9:30.”

“Good.” Farrin looked around the room at the décor, a mixture of lawyerly things like degrees and golfing prints and more personal touches like a large framed photograph of Drew and his family, evidently on vacation. “Where are you in that photo?”

“Colonial Williamsburg. Our whole family went a couple of years ago.”

“Did you like it?”

“Will you be floored if I say yes?”

She looked back at him. “Is my surprise that transparent?”

“It’s not difficult to guess it’s hard to match up the guy I was fifteen years ago to who I am now.”

“That would apply to lots of people.”

“I suppose. So, what can I do for you this morning?”

Farrin didn’t reply immediately, once again wondering if her impulse made sense in any universe. Even if her grandparents had owned the inn, she was taking a huge gamble. “I’d like to buy the Ivy Springs Inn.”

“Really?”

“Yes. And I’m willing to pay more than the city offered. They can find somewhere else to put their parking lot.” And she could pray her business didn’t suffer any major setbacks.

Drew smiled. “You know that won’t make you popular with the city fathers.”

“I’m not terribly concerned about what they think.” She had lots of experience with being unpopular.

“I’ll need to make some calls and get back to you.”

“How long will that take?” She was afraid if it took too long, she’d back out. And afraid she wouldn’t.

He glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’ll move as quickly as I can.”

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you.”

She thought about his parting words as she headed back to Faye’s house. The sincerity had surprised her. If only he’d been that type of person all those years ago. But then, she wasn’t the same person either.

At Faye’s, she followed her nose to the kitchen. “That smells fabulous.”

Tammie looked up from the midst of her pots and pans. “Lasagna, garlic bread and pineapple cake for dessert. And where have you been this morning?”

Farrin leaned against the counter and crossed her arms. “Well, since someone is likely to call in five seconds to tell you anyway, I went to Drew Murphy’s office to make an offer on the Ivy Springs Inn.”

Tammie dropped the spoon with which she was stirring the cake mix back into the bowl. “You did what?”

“I know, I may have lost my mind. But I couldn’t let them bulldoze it down. It’s the only link to my family I have left. If they destroy it, it’s like saying the Swensons never existed.”

“What are you going to do with it?”

“Apply to have it put on the National Register, then find an appropriate buyer. Someone who will take care of the property and the building.”

“You could always keep it.”

“And do what with it?”

“You were the one who told the council that it had lots of possibilities — shops, offices, a restaurant.”

“And the new owner can do those things. I don’t have the time, and you know how I am. I’m very hands-on, and it’s hard to be hands-on here if I’m in New York.”

Tammie went back to mixing the cake. “Just an idea. Something new there might actually get the community excited and hopeful again.”

“Possibly, but someone else will have to do it. I’m not the prodigal daughter come home to save the day.”

“I know. Listen, I thought maybe we could go hiking tomorrow morning. Think the Cane Ridge Trail is still as pretty this time of year as it used to be?”

“Guess we won’t know until we get there.”

Tammie smiled. “Well, that was the easiest you’ve agreed to anything since you’ve been here.”

“You know I like hiking. And I haven’t been able to go in a very long time.”

“Well then, you better get a lot of work done today because tomorrow I’m kidnapping you for the entire day. And if you even talk about work, I’m going to push you off a cliff.”

Farrin saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s more like it.”

For the next couple of hours, Farrin sat on the front porch in the warm October sunshine, returning phone calls and sketching dresses. When she finished a short, satin, lime green dress for Trina Sanchez, she fanned out the paper in front of her.

“You just keep getting better and better,” Tammie said as she stepped out onto the porch and eyed the designs.

“It’s hard to admit, but I haven’t been this productive in months. I thought Cara Hutton’s dress was going to do me in.”

“Designer’s version of writer’s block?”

“Yeah. I felt like my brain was going to crack, and that would be the end of my career. And I’m not in the clear yet because the design has to be approved. If they don’t like it . . . ”

“Then you’ll come up with something even more beautiful. The atmosphere here seems to be freeing you up, so you’ll be okay.”

Farrin looked up at Tammie and smiled. “Still holding my hand, huh?”

“You don’t need me to hold your hand anymore.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For holding it when I did need it. For being my best friend, even when it wasn’t easy.”

“Geez, you’re going to embarrass me.”

“That I doubt. I don’t think Tammie Donovan gets embarrassed.”

“You didn’t see me when the girls decided the produce section of Kroger was the ideal place to run the fifty-yard dash and sent grapefruit rolling in all directions.”

Farrin laughed. “I’d have paid good money to see your face.”

Tammie narrowed her eyes. “May you have half a dozen just like them.”

“That’s highly unlikely.”

“I’ll remind you of that when you’re elbow deep in diapers.”

Farrin looked down at her sketches. Designs for wedding dresses and evening gowns were probably all she’d ever give birth to.

****

As Farrin walked into the Merchants Bank after lunch, she met Mayor Randolph. His eyes widened slightly, then narrowed when he saw her. “We underestimated your objection, young lady. No wonder you’ve been such a successful businesswoman. I do hope you have some plans for that building soon. Planning and zoning is concerned about its stability.”

It wasn’t so much what he said, but the layer of threat underneath that bothered Farrin. She didn’t like the insinuation, particularly since the building was nowhere near as decrepit as the city seemed to want everyone to believe. “You needn’t worry about the building anymore.”

The mayor nodded, looking at her as if sizing up an opponent, then headed for the door. Maybe the old guy didn’t like getting bested by a woman. Or someone he considered an outsider or beneath him. Tough.

Farrin scanned the line of four tellers, but the only one she recognized was Janie. And Janie, as luck would have it, was the only one without a customer. With little choice, she walked up to the service counter.

“I need to arrange for a wire transfer.”

“Okay.” Janie pulled out some forms and slipped them onto the counter in front of Farrin. “I’ll need you to—”

The large form of Janie’s father moved into the cubicle behind Janie. “I’ll take those.” He nearly stepped on Janie as he swept the forms from the counter.

“I can do it,” Janie said, her eyes not meeting her father’s.

“This is a very important customer. We want her to have the best service possible.” Mr. Carlisle’s voice was filled with barely veiled condescension, not of Farrin but of his own daughter.