“Bad news?” Her cousin Kimberly came in through the side door of Josie’s tiny apartment. The three-room living quarters was attached to the Southern-style eatery she’d spent years building, which meant she wasn’t only out of a job. She was also out of a home. “Is that from the county?”
Josie fought back a wealth of angry words she’d like to say. Clutching the stupid paper, she nodded. “Yup.”
“Oh, Josie.” Kimberly hugged her, and it felt good to be hugged. “I’m so sorry. Are you sure we can’t continue to fight? Take it further?”
They’d already gone the legal route Cruz had recommended, but he’d been honest from the beginning. If the county saw a need for this strip of land to provide the proper spacing for a major player, it’d have Carrington pay fair market value and take the land. End of story. “It’s done.”
“How long have you got to vacate?”
“Thirty days.”
“Thirty days?” Anger darkened Kimberly’s gaze. She was nearly nine months pregnant with her second child, and Josie didn’t want to tip her into labor, but at least a new baby would be a happy end to an otherwise wretched day. “They can’t possibly expect you to take care of moving everything from your home and business and find a new place in thirty days. Can they? That’s preposterous, Josie, even for Southerners.”
A deep and distinctly Southern drawl interrupted them from the screened door. “It would seem less preposterous had you taken the initial offer six months ago.”
The women turned. A man stood at the door, midthirties. Crazy good-looking. He had an official-looking folder in his left hand, which meant he was most likely another Carrington Hotels henchman. Kimberly must have sensed the same thing because she folded her arms above the baby bump in total defensive Gallagher posture.
Josie Gallagher moved forward, determined to save Kimberly from herself. “This is a private meeting, and I’m pretty sure you weren’t invited, sir.”
The man pointed south. “Carrington Hotels has been nothing but courteous about this whole thing. We approached you personally, and you laughed at our representative, and from what I’ve heard, possibly also shut the door in his face.”
She’d done exactly that, and she would have done it again if they had reapproached with that number. They’d lowballed the initial offering, hoping she was stupid. She wasn’t. “The original offer was deserving of that, I believe.”
“It was too low, and I apologize for that,” the man said. He looked honest, but Josie had found out the hard way that honesty should never be taken at face value, and despite this guy’s classic good looks—tall, broad-shouldered, curly light brown hair and blue eyes—she wasn’t going to be fooled this time, either. Or ever again.
“I wasn’t in on the initial negotiations,” he continued. “If I had been, the offer would have been quite different. But fighting over this corner property has made for costly delays...”
“And has negatively affected your client’s bottom line.” Josie pretended to yawn. “I’ve read the briefs and you’ve gotten the county to side with you, so why is Carrington sending another lawyer to my door? You won. I have to dismantle my business and move, and while that’s nothing to bigwigs like you, it’s a huge deal to small-town businesspeople like me. Take your celebration elsewhere. We’re closed.”
The man withdrew a card from the pocket of his suit. “I’m not a lawyer. I’m Jacob Weatherly, the project manager for Carrington Hotels.” He turned as a car door clicked shut from the parking area, and then he smiled. When he did, he looked almost human, which meant Josie was less likely to kick him in the shins for being on the winning team.
And then her heart stopped.
It didn’t pause. It didn’t skip. It came to a full-on stop as a strawberry blonde little girl came around the corner.
Adeline.
She stared at the girl, certain she must be seeing things. It had been three years, after all. Surely this child couldn’t be—
“Come here, Addie-cakes.” The man, Jacob Weatherly, put out a hand. “Was it getting warm in the car?”
The child shook her head. “I mostly wanted to see the big cow,” she answered softly. She aimed a cautious look at Josie and had no idea what that look did to Josie’s heart. “Why do you have such a big cow on your building? It’s kind of funny, isn’t it?”
Josie stared, unable to speak. Kimberly jumped in to help. “They serve barbecue here. Barbecued beef and pork and chicken.”
The girl nodded, but it was clear that she didn’t get the correlation, and that was probably a good thing. How does one explain meat eating to an impressionable child? Josie had no idea.
“So you like cows?” The child sounded excited by the thought of Josie liking cows, and seeing her delight, Josie was sure she could make herself like cows. “I do, too! Daddy said we’d get a cow someday, when we settle someplace, but I don’t really think that’s going to happen. Is it, Daddy?” She peered up at Jacob Weatherly before reaching up to grasp his hand. “Because his job moves him around all the time.”
Daddy?
Josie’s brain whipped through what she knew about her biological daughter’s adoptive parents. She’d kept the original information minimal on purpose, because she understood herself quite well. She wasn’t the “open adoption” kind of mother. If she knew where Adeline was, she’d have been watching from a distance all this time. As it was, when Josie was needed to save the child’s life, Addie’s adoptive mother had found her.
But then Josie had purposely slipped into the shadows again, moving back north to Grace Haven, avoiding the South on purpose. Only now, the South had come to her.
She swallowed hard. Brought a hand to her throat. It was no use. Words escaped her, which was probably a good thing because no one knew what had happened in Louisiana...and if Josie Gallagher had her way, no one ever would.
“Ms. Gallagher.”
“Yes?” She pulled her attention from the beautiful child and faced Jacob Weatherly with more than real estate consternation in her stance.
Who was this man? How did he get Adeline? And how did he end up here, virtually next door to her seized property?
Questions raced through her brain, questions with no answers, but once she was alone she’d hunt for information. While the county might have the right to seize her business, her land and her lakefront footage without her permission...no one had the right to pass a child around in similar fashion.
“I know this isn’t my place, but since development is my specialty, I looked around the lake at possible new venues for your restaurant.”
Talk about salt in the wound. She flinched because here was a stranger with her child, trying to exert influence over her business life after his firm emerged victoriously from her lawsuit. Her pulse spiked. So did her blood pressure. And still, she couldn’t speak. Or maybe she didn’t dare speak.
“We don’t want hard feelings, Ms. Gallagher.” He held out his card again. “That’s not how I do business. It’s
