Before he could tell his stepfather what he thought of the command performance, Senior held up a hand. “I don’t want to hear it. Not right now. Your mother...” His stepfather stared down at the desk. “She needs us to get along right now.”
The grim determination on Senior’s face was nothing new, but his tone had changed. “What does that mean? Is something wrong?” Caleb crossed his arms tightly. What had he missed?
Watching Senior consider his words carefully was the scariest reaction Caleb might have expected. Whit Callaway, Sr. never hesitated. Worry punched a tiny hole in his resentment of the man.
“She’s been having some forgetfulness.” Senior rubbed his hand on his forehead, the fatigue on his face growing. “We’ve been to a couple of specialists, the best, but...” When their eyes met, Caleb understood. He’d heard so many stories of his grandmother and great-grandfather losing their fight with dementia.
“What’s the diagnosis?” Caleb asked.
“Early stages of Alzheimer’s.” Senior met his stare. “She’s taking everything she can to slow this down and give it everything she has, but I don’t want her upset. So you and I are going to get along.” Or else.
Caleb understood the unspoken words and supported them.
He also wondered what would have happened if he’d skipped dinner. Would anyone have told him what was going on with the most important person in his world? Anger burned bright and hot before he squashed it.
“Go to Sweetwater. Take over the project. Show us what you can do. Get the lodge built. Distract Winter Kingfisher until everyone that matters has forgotten her.” His stepfather clasped his hands together. “Easy enough.”
Put your life on hold until it’s done. His core crew would be working because he was definitely bringing them to Sweetwater, but finding new business for his own company would be next to impossible while he was stuck there.
Unless he pulled off a miracle, Mitch Yarborough and Rivercrest would move on without him.
“How long?” Caleb asked. He had four months to start the Yarborough project. This could still work. If he got the lodge off to a solid start, someone else could come in and finish.
“As long as it takes.” Senior met his stare directly. He would accept nothing other than a yes.
“And that gets me what?” Caleb drawled. That had always been his concern—whether what his family offered matched what they demanded. He could live without their money. Missing his mother was almost impossible to comprehend.
“An open door.” His stepfather’s lips were a tight line again. “Whit and I will be busy, running his campaign. Your mother needs you, needs all of us right now. Knoxville is an easy drive from Sweetwater. She’ll like that you’re closer to home. To us.”
The most effective leverage his stepfather had would always be Marjorie Callaway and it still worked.
“Check out the plans. I don’t understand how you could say no. This place is going to amaze us all. It’ll be the premier luxury mountain-resort destination in the south.” His stepfather grabbed a long tube from the credenza behind him. “Take a look. Then come to dinner.”
Instead of twisting harder, Senior offered him his hand to shake. Caleb stared hard at it before taking it. They’d never be warm and fuzzy, Callaway family dinners. They would almost always be businesslike. Until tonight.
“One more thing.” His stepfather ran a hand over his nape. “Your mother...” He shook his head. “It’s best not to mention the Kingfishers. All this circus about the canceled wedding gets her agitated. I haven’t been able to keep all the news from her but...” He sagged against the desk before forcing himself to stand tall. “Try not to upset her.”
When his stepfather left, Caleb tugged on his collar, ready for a shot of fresh, cool air. He’d had his doubts that Senior ever saw him as a son, but he understood the man loved his wife.
“I’ve been gone too long,” Caleb muttered. The ticking clock reminded him he had to get a move on. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”
Caleb unrolled the architectural plans. He’d seen the early drawing for the lodge at a board meeting six months ago. As he recalled, it had been glass. So much glass. So modern, perched high on the top of the mountain. When board meetings came up, he usually found some other obligation that could not be avoided. Job sites were fun. Board meetings were not, so he avoided them.
As he studied the revised drawings, flipping slowly through the sheets of paper as he absorbed the large-scale plans, Caleb could imagine the final structure, the way it would blend perfectly in the broad clearing surrounding the old weather station, nestled in the shadow of the peak of The Aerie.
For this setting, the facade was wood timbers. Airy central spaces backed by a solid wall of windows that would frame a view of The Aerie, one of the highest and rarest points in the reserve. Instead of perching on top of the rocky mountain, a placement that would require high infrastructure work, the architect had situated the lodge in the shadow of the mountain. Small arms shot off the central building, where luxury rooms and small cabins spread out, up and down the sides of the valley. “They should fade into the background.” And each one would have spectacular views. The Aerie. Down the valley. Old forest. And the shining water of Otter Lake, along with the morning mist, would attract visitors year after year.
If the Callaways had been hunting for a way to salt the family coffers, they’d found it.
Their first plan, to build on The Aerie to capitalize on the view, would have devastated so much of what made the place worth protecting. Ash Kingfisher’s insistence that destroying The Aerie was the wrong decision had handed them perfection. The Kingfishers had done them a favor, not that Whit or his stepfather would ever acknowledge that.
He’d take the plans and turn them slightly, insist on Tennessee stone and timber. Summit Builders had always focused on that Tennessee connection. This could be a true art piece built from Tennessee materials and history.
“So much money.” Caleb shook his head slowly. “How do they do it? Always land in the money.”
And he was going to enjoy building the thing, so there was no reason to say no.
Except for the Yarboroughs and their beautiful site overlooking the river. With hard work, luck and no interference, the timing could still work.
But then there was Winter Kingfisher.
Keeping her interested in anything except the lodge would be impossible, no matter what his stepfather ordered.
When she’d marched into his office, Caleb had been knocked sideways. She’d been as beautiful and put-together as she had been every time he’d appeared for a family photo opportunity, but she’d also been fiery and determined to save her brother’s job and the reserve.
The comparison between her impassioned defense and his stepfather’s reception was a stark contrast. In that instant, he’d been nearly certain that if Whit had managed to marry Winter Kingfisher, he’d have married up.
In terms of intelligence and strength of character, for sure. Now she owed Caleb and that was the only card he had that she might care about. Their maneuver meant a vindicated Ash Kingfisher was running the Smoky Valley Nature Reserve, all the while keeping an eye on the Callaways. Otter Lake was safe; Ash was Sweetwater’s hero. Would gratitude or guilt be enough for Winter to agree to lay low until the election?
He’d try both angles. He needed her cooperation, a smooth build and an accelerated timeline. Everyone could have what they wanted.
Except Winter.
Her engagement was over, and she no longer had the job she loved.
Could he convince