Authors: Mariah Stewart
“I guess a farmer—one who grows all the vegetables and fruits that Clay grows—would have to believe in what he’s doing.”
“That’s exactly what he says.” She put down her sandwich. “Clay has never wanted to do anything but farm, and he’s always looked for ways to grow his crops without using pesticides. He’s been way ahead of the popular movement in that respect. My dad was, too.”
“Clay and Wade MacGregor were talking about starting a brewery together.” Jesse started on his salad, taking his time. “Is that off the table now?”
“Oh, no.” Brooke shook her head. “They’re both totally into the whole concept of brewing organic beer. They’ve already found organic seed for the hops and barley they want to plant in the spring. I heard Clay on the phone the other day talking to someone about organic rye seed.” She grinned. “But I predict
that, for Wade, the actual growing part is going to be a life-changing experience.”
“How so?”
“He’s never grown anything before. Never operated farm equipment. It’s not the same as being the brewer. When Wade was in Texas, everything that went into his beer was delivered to him. Growing it all from scratch, that’s a whole ’nother thing. There’s a lot of physical work that goes into getting the fields ready. Planting. Fertilizing. Irrigating. And those are just the things you can control.”
“Oh.” Jesse nodded. “I think I’ll stick with law.”
“Yeah, farming’s not my cup of tea either.” She opened her container of salad. “I hated it growing up. All the chores, you know? But I’m so grateful that Clay is who he is. It would break my heart to see the farm sold, maybe have a bunch of town houses slapped up. It’s been in our family for so many generations. It’s comforting to think it will be intact for Logan and any kids that Clay might have one day.”
“Like this place,” Jesse said. “My great-great-great-grandfather started this firm. An Enright has been in practice here every generation since.”
“Handling legal matters for the Madisons, did you know?”
“I think my grandfather may have mentioned that.” Actually, Jesse’d found the old files of many a St. Dennis family in the attic and had gone through them when he first moved to St. Dennis, before his grandfather was spending more than a few cursory hours each week with him.
“Are you the last lawyer in your family? I know your uncle Mike has his generation covered.”
“My sister Sophie is a lawyer.”
“How did your father manage to break away from the family tradition and avoid law school?”
“He didn’t.” He paused to tamp down the snap that was about to rise in his voice. She had no way of knowing who and what his father was. “He went to law school.”
“How was he able to avoid getting roped into the family firm?”
By being a crook and a womanizer and a total screwup
.
“He followed another path,” Jesse said simply, and prayed she’d let it go at that.
“How is your aunt? I know everyone’s been worried about her.”
“My uncle stopped in for a few minutes last week, and he said she’s hanging in there but she’s still very ill and isn’t expected to recover.”
“That is so sad.” Brooke twisted the cap off her water bottle. “Andrea has always been such a sweet and cheery woman, you know?”
“To tell you the truth, I don’t really know her or my uncle well at all.” There was no point in trying to explain to her why.
“Oh.” She drank from the bottle for a moment. “Well, I can tell you they’re both pretty terrific people.”
“So I’ve heard.”
From just about everyone in St. Dennis
, he could have added. Everyone in town seemed to know his relatives better than he did.
His uncle Mike just happened to stop into the office the first week Jesse started there. Jesse knew the man had come to look him over, afraid, no doubt, that Jesse was too much his father’s son and therefore was
unworthy to tread the hallowed halls of Enright and Enright. The memory of his uncle’s unconcealed scrutiny—the skepticism in Mike Enright’s eyes as he openly evaluated Jesse and obviously found him lacking—still rankled. Even though Jesse knew he’d proven himself over and over since that day, and even though his uncle had come around and actually seemed to like him, that first meeting, where he’d been dismissed as nothing more than a chip off of Craig Enright’s block, someone who’d come to St. Dennis with some sense of entitlement toward the family firm, still rankled.
Then again, who better to know Craig’s character than his brother?
“Why did you decide to come to St. Dennis?” she asked.
“Why?” He thought for a moment. “My grandfather was retiring, my uncle wasn’t in a position to take over for him, so it just seemed like the thing to do.”
“Will you stay on when Mike comes back? After Andrea … you know.” She obviously couldn’t bring herself to say,
After Andrea passes
.
“We’ll see.” He hadn’t wanted to think about his uncle Mike coming back and wanting to head up the firm, but he was aware that he might have to deal with that at some point. For now, he was keeping things afloat here and doing a damned good job of it, and that’s all Jesse was focusing on. “I don’t know what my uncle’s plans are.”
“Well, we’re all hoping for a miracle.” Brooke finished both her salad and her sandwich and looked for a place to dispose of the wrappings. Jesse slid the
box toward her side of the desk and she tossed everything in.
“I can’t believe I ate all that,” she told him. “I guess I was hungrier than I realized.”
“Sounds like you’ve been burning the midnight oil.”
Brooke nodded. “I have been baking every minute of every day for the past week. The only exceptions are when I’m sleeping or in class. The rest of the time, I’m either whipping something up to put in the oven, or waiting for something to finish baking.”
“Do you count little cupcakes to help you fall asleep at night?”
“Believe me, I have no trouble falling asleep these days.” Brooke laughed. “Though I do make these minicupcakes that look like little lambs. I suppose if need be, I could envision them being tossed over a fence and count them as they flew by.”
“Sounds like your business is really taking off.”
“It’s starting to. I need to streamline my game plan so that things flow a little smoother, but all in all, I have no complaints. Tomorrow I have an appointment with Frank over at Krauser’s to see about having this old van of Clay’s fixed up so I can use it for deliveries.” She rested her chin in her hand, and a lock of strawberry blond hair fell over her forehead. She eased it behind her ear. “I’m going to try to use the van to sell from for a while, until I can make enough to get a storefront in town. I used to think I just wanted to sell from the van, but I changed my mind after being around Scoop and Bling. There’s a permanance about them that I hadn’t realized I wanted until I started hanging around with Steffie and Vanessa. Even Dallas is going for a permanent
home for her film business here in St. Dennis. It just got me thinking …” Her voice trailed away.
“Thinking about what?”
“About how maybe it was time to set roots.” She grew quiet for a moment. “I never thought about moving back here, but I’m glad I did.”
“So am I,” he couldn’t help but add.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here, too.” She glanced at her watch. “I’m happy to have someone my own age to share my legal issues with. This way, I won’t have to worry about breaking in a new lawyer when you decide to retire, the way so many people in town have had to switch from your grandfather …” She stopped and shook her head. “I don’t mean that to sound in a negative way.”
“I didn’t take it in a negative way. I’ve tried to accommodate my grandfather’s older clients and reassure them that they’ll continue to have the same fine representation they’ve always had. For the most part, I think I’ve done okay, holding on to the old-timers’ business. We lost a few during the transition, but I think they would have moved their business anyway. Most of the clients have been willing to give me a chance.”
“That’s St. Dennis for you.” She smiled and gathered her things. “Is there anything else we need to do right now? I should get going if I’m going to make it to class on time.”
“I think we’re fine for now. I’ll write the letter to Jason Bowers and copy you on that. We will have to schedule another appointment to go over what you want in your new will.”
Brooke stood. “I want everything to go to Logan if something happens to me.”
“By everything, I’m guessing you mean whatever cash, life insurance, property … do you have an interest in the farm, or is that all in Clay’s name?”
She frowned. “There was some mention of some portion of it being retained for Logan if the farm is sold in the future, but I don’t remember the percentage.”
“We can talk about that next time.” He stood to walk her to the door. “I can have Liz give you a call and set up another appointment.”
“That would be great. Thanks so much, Jesse.” She walked with him to the front door. “You don’t know how much it means to me to have someone help me sort all this out, to make sure that Logan is taken care of should something happen to me.”
“That’s what I’m here for.” He opened the door and stepped outside. The sun had disappeared completely and the sky was turning dark.
“Really. I can’t thank you enough.” She touched his arm. “I feel so much better knowing there’s someone I can depend on for legal advice.”
“Always,” he told her. “I’m always here for you, Brooke. Besides, what are friends for?”
“Are you going to watch the Halloween Parade?” she asked when they reached the end of the walk. “The kids are so excited about it. Cody and Logan are going as dueling pirates.”
“Dueling pirates?”
“They plan to duel with each other—with cardboard swords—as they pass the judges’ stand.”
“Well, I certainly can’t miss that.”
“I’ll see you there, then.”
He waved as she got into her car, and after she’d driven away, he went back into the office, a smile on his face, thinking that subtlety was, in fact, the right way to go. After all, wasn’t it slow and steady that won the race?
Brooke balanced the container holding her cupcakes in one hand while pushing open the door to Cuppachino with the other. Once inside the coffee shop, quiet at barely seven in the morning, she waved to Carlo and placed the container on the counter.
“Be with you in a moment,” Carlo called to her. “Want a cup of coffee?”
Brooke started to decline when a voice from across the room called back, “Of course she does. And she wants to come sit with me while she drinks it.”
Brooke turned and smiled at the older woman. “Good morning, Miss Grace.”
“Good morning, dear. You’re up and out early,” Grace replied.
“Places to go, people to see. Cupcakes to deliver.”
“Half decaf, half regular. Light, one sweetener,” Carlo recited to the counter girl while he unpacked the cupcakes and arranged them on a tray. “Give it to Brooke … there you go, Brooke. Here’s your carrier. The cupcakes are a huge hit. Keep ’em coming.” His voice trailed away as he went back into the kitchen.
The young girl working the counter finished making
Brooke’s coffee as per her boss’s instructions and passed the mug to Brooke, who carried it to the table near the front window where Grace sat watching the morning traffic and making notes in a small notebook.
“Working on your column for your newspaper?” Brooke asked as she took a seat across from Grace.
“Just doodling.” Grace closed the notebook and dropped it into the huge shoulder bag she always had with her.
“You’re up early today yourself,” Brooke noted.
“I’ve been up since five,” Grace told her. “Not by choice, I might add. But I thought as long as I was up, I’d get an early start on the day. We go to press this afternoon, so I do have a lot to do between now and then.”
“Lots of news this week?”
“Pictures from Steffie’s engagement party. The route for the Halloween Parade. The dates for leaf pickup. The usual.”
“The party was terrific, wasn’t it?” To Brooke’s eye, Grace appeared a little subdued.
“Oh, my, yes.” The woman perked up a bit. “The cupcakes were scrumptious. And combined with the ice cream Steffie made for the occasion … well, one has to wonder what you’ll both come up with for the wedding.”
“I’m glad you liked the cupcakes, and yes, the Blueberry Bliss ice cream was delicious. As for what will be served at the wedding … we’re still working on that. They’re having cupcakes and wedding cakes, so we need to coordinate things. And of course, the brides need to decide on a date.”
“Oh, they’ve already done that.” Grace waved a hand. “Tentatively, that is. It all depends on whether or not Lucy will agree to come back to take charge of the affair. You may have heard that Dallas called Lucy and got her to agree to come home next week to talk about what Dallas and Steffie want.”
“No, I hadn’t heard, but that’s wonderful!” Brooke exclaimed. “For them and for you.”
Grace nodded. “When I spoke with Lucy last night, she reminded me that she’s only coming home to talk, to see if it’s something she might be interested in doing.” She rolled her eyes. “As if any event planner—especially one whose business is based in Los Angeles—is going to turn down what is certain to be a huge celebrity event. The publicity is going to be priceless. So I feel comfortable in saying that Lucy will most likely take the job. I’ll be very surprised if she says no.”
“You miss her terribly, don’t you?” Brooke placed a hand on the older woman’s arm.
“I do. I miss her as much as I miss Ford. Maybe more, since she’s my only daughter,” Grace admitted. “You know, I had three children, but only one of them chose to stay here in St. Dennis. It makes me wonder if something I’d done—perhaps when Lucy and Ford were younger—made them want to move away and stay away.”
“Grace, I’m willing to bet that you were a terrific mother. I think it’s probably just circumstances, you know? Lucy went into business with someone who was based on the West Coast. Ford’s job is always going to have him running around the world. It isn’t unusual to want to see more of the world than the place where you grew up.”