Montana Promises Page 7

  He and Nick reached the house at the same time as everyone else, and as they all piled out of their vehicles, Jaden poked his head out the back door.

  “Everyone’s here?” He scooped up a bite of cereal from an oversized bowl, and Nate took note that his tone hadn’t come across as surprised to see everyone.

  His temper spiked. “What the hell is going on? What’s the ambush about this time?”

  Cord held his hands up, a wad of papers clutched in one fist. “No ambush,” he said, but his voice brooked no argument. “I started calling as soon as I pulled into town.” He nodded toward Jaden. “Jay said you and Nick were in the fields, so we all just came on over. There’s something we need to talk about.”

  Nate looked around at everyone else, still doubting they weren’t there to come at him for something, but from the looks on their faces, his siblings had no more of a clue than he did.

  “Fine,” he said. “Then let’s go in.”

  He didn’t wait for everyone else. He took the stairs two at a time, following Jaden back into the oversized living room, and as Dani came up behind him, he heard her say, “Nice ramp.”

  “Thanks,” he mumbled, but he didn’t look back.

  They all filed into the room, where everyone sat except Cord. Cord positioned himself in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows that faced the lake, held up the papers for the second time, and jumped right into it. “We have an offer to buy the property.”

  “An offer?” The question came from Dani, and she immediately jumped back up. “We haven’t even decided if we want to sell or not.”

  “Nor have we listed it,” Nate added. He watched his other brothers. The entire room had gone on edge.

  “It’s from a developer in Billings,” Cord explained. “I mentioned the situation, in passing, to a couple of buddies—who apparently mentioned it to a couple of their buddies—and what we have is a man looking to not only buy our place, but also the Wyndhams’ property next door.” The Wyndhams had also lost the majority of their trees, and they’d not been quiet about being ready to get out. “This guy wants to level both houses,” Cord went on, “and turn the entire thing into an upscale resort.”

  It was Jaden who popped up from his seat next. “A resort?” He swung an arm out, motioning toward the windows. “This is a cherry orchard.”

  “Not anymore,” Nate muttered.

  “And it is in the perfect location to be a resort,” Gabe tossed out, and Nate could see the wheels turning in his oldest brother’s head. “Lakefront,” Gabe went on. “Close to hiking, skiing, water sports. I could see it pulling in some cash.”

  “But it’s not a resort!” Jaden yelled, and at his explosion, Dani studied their youngest sibling.

  “Since when do you even care that much?” she asked, her words spoken carefully. “You were always the first to want to sell.”

  “Yeah, well . . . I don’t want to sell anymore, okay?” Jaden moved to the windows, his booted foot making a hollow sound with each step across the wood-planked floor. He crossed his arms over his chest and turned back to the room. “This is our home. Have we all forgotten that?”

  When silence only greeted his question, he pinned their sister with a look. “And anyway, since when do you want to sell?”

  “I don’t know that I do.” She followed Jaden’s path, moving slowly as if in deep thought at the same time, until she ended up standing beside their youngest brother. Nate watched as she stared out at the land. At the arriving green from the spring warm-up and at the revamped deck with the new ramp waiting for their dad. “I’d definitely still prefer to save the place,” Dani mused. She glanced back over her shoulder. “We’re getting it all set up for Dad. But since there is an offer on the table, we should at least consider it, I’d think.”

  Nate didn’t say anything, but what surprised him was the desire to respond similarly to Jaden. Because he didn’t want to sell, either. And he hadn’t realized that until just this moment.

  This was their house. Their orchard.

  If some company came through and leveled not only the trees, but the home the six of them had grown up in, it would almost be like they’d never existed.

  And it would be far too easy to never be together again.

  “The place won’t be profitable as is.” Nate made himself think logically, but he also let the other ideas he’d been harboring percolate. “Even if we replant, it’ll take years to get back to where we were.”

  “None of us are dependent on the money on a daily basis anyway,” Cord pointed out. Which was true. They all liked the money, but ever since Gabe and Dani had given up running the place and taken other jobs, it had served only as a side income stream for everyone.

  “So, if money isn’t the issue, why be in a hurry to do anything with it?” Nick asked, and five sets of eyes shifted to him. “I mean, we don’t have to sell just because there’s an offer. We could replant. Keep going.”

  “And who’s going to run it?” Gabe asked.

  “Whoever we hire,” Nick returned.

  “And what about the house?” Jaden jumped back in. “And Dad?”

  Nate had the answer to that one. “Dad lived in town for several years before he took back over out here. If we hired a manager and included the stipulation that he or she could live in the house while they ran the place, Dad could move back to town.”

  “But—”

  “They make handicapped accessible places, Jaden,” Dani pointed out, and Nate could see the anguish on her face. She loved the idea of them keeping this place. Of making it be something other than the house of bad memories their mom had once controlled.

  He closed his eyes, blocking out the panoramic view he’d grown so used to over the last weeks. Trying to picture never being able to see it again.

  The place held memories, bad and good. Would he be okay walking away from it?

  “What’s the offer?” Gabe asked. He crossed to Cord to look at the papers.

  “To be honest,” Cord answered, “I think we could do better.”

  “Better?” Jaden jumped at the opportunity. “Then it’s a no. We’re not going to give the place away.”

  “It’s not a no or a yes,” Gabe replied. “Not yet.” He flipped through the pages, his brow furrowing as he read. “But Dani’s right. We have to consider it.”

  “I agree.” Cord cupped his hands together in front of him. He stated the dollar amount. “The offer holds only if they can get the Wyndham’s place, as well,” he said. “But they went to them already. It’s a yes.”

  “They’re just going to sell out?” Dani looked crestfallen. “Just like that?”

  “It’s not just like that,” Gabe told her. They’d all been friends with the Wyndhams for years. “They’re ready to retire. I ran into Lou in town last week. They want to move to Texas to be closer to their grandkids.” He finished with the contract and passed it off to Dani.

  “It’s not the best offer, for sure,” Cord went on, “but we could get out. Quit fighting the place that more than once has tried to take us down.”

  “Quit fighting for us, you mean?” Nick voiced the exact words Nate had been thinking.

  “No.” Dani turned to Nick. “If we sell, we don’t quit fighting for us. Ever. We’re good these days.” She took in all of them. “We stay that way.”

  “Agreed,” Gabe confirmed, and though Nate thought Gabe and Dani might actually believe the sentiment, Nate didn’t know that he did.

  This house—the orchard, for all that it was—had also been the thing that held them together over the years. Even when the only time they saw each other was at harvest. And whether he was here with them or not, Nate didn’t want his family to lose that. And he could give them that.

  He wanted to give them that.

  “We don’t sell,” he announced, and everyone turned to look at him.

  “Why not?” Cord asked, but he seemed more curious than disagreeing.

  “First of all”—Nate pointed toward t
he papers—“because that’s a shit offer. The guy is trying to steal our land right out from under us.”

  “Agreed,” Nick added.

  “But if none of us wants to run it,” Gabe started, but Nate held up a hand to cut him off.

  “We don’t sell,” he reiterated. “At least not yet. Hear me out first.”

  He rose from the position he’d taken on the arm of the couch and paced to the fireplace.

  “I’ve had a few ideas over the last week,” he explained. “Ones I think we could not only make work but that could bring a breath of fresh air to the whole town. It could even help with tourism.”

  Surprise flashed in Nick’s eyes “You want to turn the place into some sort of resort, too?”

  “Not a resort. Not exactly. And I don’t want to change the house. Dad can stay.” Nate looked around at all of them before picking up the notepad he’d left on the mantle the day before. “What I’m proposing we do is add cabins around the property.” He flipped to the sketch he’d drawn out and passed the pad off to Nick. “Clear out the dead trees and build individual one- and two-bedroom cabins. We can partner with companies that do hiking, fishing, skiing, that sort of thing. Then we add in a couple of fire pits, picnic tables. Make it a rustic—yet comfortable—place to get away.”

  “Tours to Glacier National Park,” Nick added as he handed the notepad to Gabe.

  “Exactly. We’re right in the middle of so much that nature has to offer. Why not make it available for others?” When no one said anything else, Nate went on. “And I’ve figured out how to get it done in a hurry.” He rubbed his hands together as excitement built. The conditions Cord had mentioned in the contract had settled the last of the pieces of the puzzle into place. “First of all, if we don’t sell, the developer likely won’t want the Wyndham’s place either. But they still want to go to Texas. So, we offer to rent the house from them.”

  Gabe looked up from the notebook. “Why would we want to rent their house?”

  “To use it for lodging for a construction crew.”

  “For a . . .” Dani’s brows pulled together. “What?”

  “To build the cabins.” Cord clued in.

  “Right.” Nate pointed at him. “Along with whoever we can hire locally, I’ve worked with enough guys in the off-seasons over the years that I’m confident I could have a group here asap. The Wyndham place only has four bedrooms, but it has plenty of square footage. We can bring in enough bunk beds to make room for everyone, then I can start work on the permits and a loan from the bank, and we could potentially break ground as early as next week.”

  He caught a look of contemplation on Nick, and knew it wasn’t so much about the idea as it was for the level of thought Nate had put into this. This wasn’t a flash-in-the-pan idea.

  “And you’d be willing to stay long enough to see these built?” Cord hedged.

  Nate’s logical side screamed for him to consider the question further, to think about how staying longer would make it even harder for him to leave later. But he nodded without hesitation. “To keep us from being undercut on a sales price? Absolutely.” And also, just because he wanted to. He loved the idea of revamping the place. Of making it still theirs . . . but better.

  “And if we do this,” Nick added, “when would we have anything ready to rent?”

  Nate turned to his twin. “Depending on how many guys I can bring in, I’m looking at ten cabins completed by July fourth. I could hire a manager to run things by then, as well.”

  Shock filled the room.

  “That’s only ten weeks from now,” Jaden pointed out. “How could you possibly accomplish that?”

  “And is that really what we want to do?” Dani added. Nate could see her nerves at the idea of changing the orchard in such a large fashion, but he’d thought about this a lot over the last week.

  Actually, the idea had first come to him several years ago.

  “I don’t know that going forward as we always have is an option these days,” Nate answered in all sincerity, and he saw the nods of his brothers’ agreement. “It would take too long to regroup. To be the orchard we once were.”

  “And honestly,” Nick added, “I don’t know that any of us want to be what we once were.”

  Again, there were multiple nods. Everyone knew Nick wasn’t talking about the orchard itself so much as the memories associated with their childhoods.

  “But the cherry trees . . .” Dani spoke softly, and then she turned once again and stared out at the land. Nate saw her throat rise and fall with a swallow. “It’s who we are,” she said, and Nate crossed to put an arm around her.

  “It’s where we began,” he corrected. “But we could build our own future.”

  “I’m in,” Jaden abruptly announced. “Why hand over our blood, sweat, and tears for nothing?”

  “Exactly.” Nate paused before adding, “We create something that would bring the kind of price we know we’re worth . . . we prove that it’s viable . . . and then we decide if we want to sell or not.”

  His sister looked up. “We might still sell?”

  “We reevaluate afterward,” he confirmed. But in truth, he hoped it wouldn’t come to that. He’d love for the place to stay in the family. “Let’s see how this season goes first. You put your marketing skills to use filling the cabins with guests, and we see if it’s worth staying in the vacation business.” He gave his sister’s shoulder a squeeze. “And if we do keep it, we replant some of the trees this fall.”

  “But we won’t have the space with the cabins,” she argued.

  “We don’t need a lot. Maybe just the pick-your-own field.”

  “Or simply enough to support the store,” Gabe interjected.

  “Right.” Nate nodded. “And if that’s what we decide, then we tweak things there until we have a big enough crop to fully support our cherry-supplied products again. But wherever we land, the important thing is that we have options.” And for the first time in a long time, he found himself wanting options, as well. He wanted to do more than wander the world, looking for the next place to rent a room.

  He just wished that coming home could be one of them.

  Chapter Six

  “I’ll see you next weekend, Mrs. Tamry. Have a great day.” Megan handed the bagged items over the counter to one of her best customers, and she smiled at the woman’s husband as he touched his wife’s elbow, and they turned for the door.

  “You be sure to save us some of that new jam,” Mr. Tamry reminded her.

  “One for you and one for your son.” She tapped the piece of paper where she’d written the note. “Don’t worry. I won’t forget.”

  After the door closed behind the seventy-something couple, the store was—for the first time that morning—empty of customers. She turned to look for Brooke, who’d arrived thirty minutes before.

  “Where did you go?” She stretched out her neck, trying to see to the back of the store. She and Brooke planned to go shopping after the store closed at noon to pick out things for her apartment.

  “Looking for a Father’s Day present,” came the reply. “My dad has already decided on baking as his next hobby.”

  “But Father’s Day is still two months away.” Megan straightened the stack of business cards that held the store’s website address. “Mother’s Day comes first.”

  Brooke’s face appeared from behind the cookbook section. “You think I don’t know that? I purchased Mom’s gift back in February.”

  “Of course you did,” Megan muttered. She sprayed cleaner onto the countertop and reached for the roll of paper towels. “If I ever start thinking I have a habit of being too prepared, all I need to do is take a look at you.”

  “There’s no such thing as being too prepared.” Brooke’s words were muffled since she’d once again dropped behind the aisle, and a couple of seconds later Megan heard a soft “Ah-ha!”

  She grinned. “I take it you found something.”

  “I found the perfect something.�
� Brooke’s face appeared again, and she held up two softbound books. One that used cherries or cherry flavoring for each recipe it contained, and one filled with tips and tricks for baking breads.

  “Two perfect somethings,” Megan agreed. “Tell me again why you shop for gifts two months early.”

  “So I never forget.”

  Megan tapped the notepad that could always be found beside the register. “Lists,” she said as Brooke headed for the front counter. “You’d never forget anything if you’d start making lists.”

  “Ah.” Brooke plopped her selections onto the counter. “But if I don’t have lists, then I don’t run the risk of the wrong people seeing what’s on them.”

  She gave Megan a knowing look, and Megan had to concede her point. They’d texted briefly after Megan had gotten home the night before, and she’d filled her friend in on the “highlights” of dinner.

  “I still can’t believe he read out all the names like that,” Megan mumbled.

  “And I still can’t believe you carry around that list on a day-to-day basis.”

  “Of course I do. What if I meet someone I want to add to it?”

  Brooke rolled her eyes. “There are other ways to keep lists, you know?” She held her phone over the digital pay symbol to pay for her charges, then waved the device in front of Meg’s face. “Digital ways.”

  “Yeah. But I just . . .” Meg sighed. It made no sense to most people. She knew that. Especially given her degrees and previous job in computer programming. “I like the feel of writing with a lead pencil, okay?” She often even transferred items from apps on her phone to paper. “I get that from my aunt.”

  “Your aunt?” Puzzlement had Brooke tilting her head. “You’ve never mentioned an aunt.”

  Megan didn’t make a practice of mentioning any of her family members all that often. It had become habit over the years. She shrugged as if thinking about her aunt was no big deal. “Aunt June was my mom’s sister. I spent a lot of time with her and Uncle Ray before I went away to college.”