Читать книгу Small-Town Girl - Jessica Keller - Страница 9
ОглавлениеKendall Mayes shoved the freshly signed contract papers into her purse as she turned the corner and walked through the main section of downtown Goose Harbor.
She couldn’t hold back her grin.
Love on a Dime—the business she had dreamed about for so many years—was going to open. Next week. According to the contract, all she had to do was stay silent about her business partner and find a weekly outing that would attract tourists. The weekly outing hadn’t been part of her original business plan, but she could see why Sesser Atwood, her business partner, insisted it was needed. Success wouldn’t come her way simply by waiting for people who wanted events and dates planned for them. A weekly event people could sign up for in advance translated into a more predictable income flow.
Her heels clipped against the bricked sidewalk. The businesses in downtown Goose Harbor were all situated around a large, grassy parklike square at the heart of the town and then fanned out down the streets that branched off the edges of the square.
Now one of those businesses was hers.
Building 836 boasted a slightly curved path made with round pavers that was lined on each side by an intricately carved wooden bench. Kendall traced her finger over the top of the nearest bench. They were beautiful. A mint-and-cherry awning hung above a door that opened to a tiny entryway leading to two more doors. The front door was heavy and squeaked a little when she opened it. The building was divided into two rentable spaces. Love on a Dime would take up residence on the left side, and a sign reading Goose Harbor Furniture let her know who her neighbor was on the other side.
The sweet smell of sawdust wafted from Goose Harbor Furniture’s propped-open door. Reaching into her pocket, Kendall closed her hand around the key Sesser had handed her after their meeting. Trepidation gnawed away at the pit of her stomach. This was it.
Laying her other hand on the door, Kendall bowed her head. She didn’t pray as often as she should, but then again, she found it difficult to think of the right words when it felt as if they never made it past the ceiling. Kendall was one girl among millions. The daily issues she faced didn’t matter to the creator of the universe, did they? No. If her earthly father had been able to walk out of her life and forget about her, God could too.
Still, she had to believe that God had led local tycoon Sesser Atwood to overhear the bank turning down her application for a business loan. If the elderly man hadn’t asked to hear her pitch and then offered to go into business with her, Kendall would be on her way back to Kentucky by now.
Thank You for bringing me here. For orchestrating all this. If it’s not too much to ask, please let this be a place I can call home. Finally.
She slipped the key into the old-fashioned doorknob and opened the door. The tiniest bell, hung on the upper part of the door, rang sweetly as she entered. A note taped to the desk from Claire, Sesser’s adult daughter, read that she had picked out the furniture and decorations and hoped Kendall liked everything. The furniture was meant as a gift, partner-to-partner. The note ended with a huge smiley face. Kendall started adding up the costs in her head and was beginning to wonder if she’d ever be able to pay Sesser back if she had to. Could Mr. Atwood really be so generous? Hopefully it came without strings, but in her experience, gifts rarely did. Especially gifts from wealthy men.
On a separate note card Claire had written a verse in her pretty, swirling script. Kendall ran her thumb over the card, reading Isaiah 43:19 out loud. “‘See, I am doing a new thing. Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the desert.’” Finding a thumbtack, she stuck the verse onto the corkboard near her monitor. Claire didn’t know her, but she couldn’t have picked a better verse to encourage Kendall. Perhaps God did care about something as insignificant as Kendall’s dreams.
She laid her purse on the desk and was just about to turn on the computer when an awful screeching sound vibrated the walls. “Oh. That’s not going to work at all.”
Instantly she started for the door leading to the shared entryway. A high-pitched beeping sound echoed as she walked through the furniture store’s front door. Goose Harbor Furniture consisted of two sections; one area showcased completed handmade pieces and items that were ready to purchase, and the other was full of sawdust and half-finished projects. In the middle, two men hunched over a block of wood. One was wielding a power saw, which explained the noise.
“Excuse me!” Kendall hollered.
Both men turned in her direction. The taller, broader-shouldered man had sandy-brown, close-cropped hair, a firm jaw and a tug of a smile on his lips. His heavy boots, worn jeans and rolled-up flannel shirt screamed hard work. The shorter of the two had floppy brown hair and a full-blown grin lighting his boyish features. But what struck her most was both men had the same unique eye coloring. A pale green, like the underside of a leaf.
Thankfully the smaller-statured one switched off the saw before swiveling around. “If you’re here for the whittling class, tonight’s lesson is canceled on account of the concert in the square.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “Whittling? No.” She shook her head. “I’m here about that horrible noise.”
The taller one walked forward. “Brice Daniels.” He extended his hand for a handshake, the calluses along his palm rubbing against her soft skin. “Back there—” Brice jutted a thumb over his shoulder toward the man with the saw “—is my brother Evan. He owns this place. You can blame him for all the racket.”
“I’m Kendall. Kendall Mayes.” She laid her hand across her chest. “Nice to meet you both.” Then she zeroed in on Evan. “Do you normally use that during business hours?”
He set down the saw and then hooked his hands on his tool belt. “Hey, it’s almost closing time.”
Kendall popped her hands to her hips. “Well, I’m your new neighbor, and I don’t know how that’s going to affect my clients.” Her small office would mostly be used for planning, but she had to imagine that potential clients would want to be able to meet with her in a saw-free environment. Had Sesser been aware of the woodworker next door when he chose this location for her? If Evan was going to be carving loudly all day, she might not last in the shared storefront for long.
“Relax.” Evan unclipped his tool belt and laid it on the workstation in the back of the room. “The tools I mostly use are quiet. The saw is used sparingly and only ever before the shop opens or near closing.”
Kendall released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
Brice tilted his head, considering her. “I spotted you at church last weekend, didn’t I? You’re new in town.” He had a slight cleft in his chin. Kendall tried not to stare, but there was no doubt about it; the man was an all-American hunk.
“I am.” She offered a smile. “Is it so easy to tell?”
Evan peeled off his heavy gloves. “We’re Goose Harbor lifers. Born and raised. We know almost everyone.”
“You grew up here?” Kendall’s attention volleyed between the brothers. What must it have been like to live in such a picturesque place? Probably far better than the trailer homes she and her mother had constantly been kicked out of for not paying rent. “That must have been nice.”
“At times. But not always.” Brice leaned against the counter that held the cash register and crossed his arms.
Kendall took a few steps, pretending to examine the furniture for sale. “So, what’s this about a whittling class?”
Straightening, Brice grabbed the stapler off the counter and twisted it around in his hand. His gaze quickly appraised her from head to toe. “You don’t strike me as someone interested in whittling.”
“Don’t listen to him.” Evan rounded the small partition that separated the woodworking area from the store. “He doesn’t even work here.”
“Okay.” Kendall put up her hands in surrender. “The truth is, I’m not interested in whittling at all. But I just had an idea. I’m trying to brainstorm some events that I could offer for tourists...on a weekly basis in correlation with my business.” Not that whittling would be the most exciting thing, but she didn’t know anyone besides a handful of ladies from a Bible study she’d attended for a few weeks when she first moved to town and she was currently grasping at straws. Sesser expected her to kick off her business with a bang and she didn’t want to disappoint him. Not after the risk he’d taken on her.
“It’s a paid class that meets once a week and runs six weeks long. Most of the tourists are only here for a week or two, tops. There’s the occasional ones that stay for the whole season. But they’re few and far between.” Evan shrugged an apology.
Kendall sighed. Whittling wouldn’t work for her weekly event. Which was probably for the best.
Brice cleared his throat. “Maybe I can help point you in the right direction? What sort of business are you starting next door?”
Here it goes. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. While Kendall really believed in her idea, embarrassment always rolled around in her chest whenever she had to explain it. Most people didn’t understand the need for such a place. “It’s called Love on a Dime. It’s a date-planning service, and—”
“Hear that? A dating service.” Evan slapped Brice on the back. “She can finally find you a match.”
Brice shot his brother a look that said if the lady wasn’t here right now I’d strangle you. “I don’t date.”
She waved her hands. “I don’t find significant others for people. None of that matching stuff. I plan dates for people who are already together.” Despite Brice’s scowl, she rambled on. “So, say a man wants to take his girlfriend out on a fun date but doesn’t want to fuss with the details. I step in and take care of everything.”
Eyebrows diving, Brice worked his jaw back and forth. “So some guy can spend a bunch of money to impress a girl who will just dump him later on?”
Well, that went horribly.
“Some people actually end up happy and married.” Not her. Or anyone she knew very well. But that didn’t stop her from hoping it was true. Kendall blew out a long stream of air that ruffled her dark bangs. “Anyway. I wanted to introduce myself and make sure that sound wasn’t going to be a constant thing. Since you said it’s not, I’ll head back to my place and try to accomplish something before locking up for the night. Nice meeting you both.”
She retreated to her side before either of them could get in another word. Rounding her desk, she dropped into the rolling chair and pressed her face into her hands.
Five weeks ago she’d sold more than half of her possessions and moved to a town she’d never visited before to open a new business. Her home back in Kentucky hadn’t been the type of place to attract tourists, and the pull for a business like hers there was almost nonexistent. There was one small country club in her hometown where she’d worked, but that would have been the extent of her clientele. In Goose Harbor, where new tourists flooded the streets each week of the summer, the possibility for work was endless.
But had it all been another mistake waiting to happen? Would everyone react the way Brice had? One more thing to add to the list of failures she’d experienced in her life?
Kendall prayed for guidance but only heard the murmur of the Daniels brothers talking next door.
* * *
Brice grabbed the broom out of the back room and started sweeping the sawdust from his brother’s latest creation into a pile. He’d already put in a full day’s work down at his shipping business near the dock but hadn’t felt like going back to his empty cabin after he sent his men home for the day. The cryptic voice mail from his father on his business’s answering machine might have something to do with that.
Evan locked the front door and grinned at Brice. “She’s cute.”
“Leave the poor woman alone, Evan.” Brice shook his head. His brother always showered attention on attractive women. Actually the trait had gotten Evan into trouble far too many times in his life. The whispers even reached the docks. Women visiting Goose Harbor loved batting their eyes at Brice’s younger brother. There were some who came a few months each summer trying to win Evan over. Little did they know, Evan was a lost cause where love was concerned. Brice had been around and seen the women in action, though. His brother didn’t shy from their attention, and—right or wrong—it brought him sales.
“Admit it.” Evan nudged him in the ribs. “You thought she was cute too.”
Evan had always been considered the best-looking and most charismatic of the Daniels brothers. Not that he had much competition when compared to only Brice. Most people had forgotten or chose not to talk about their middle brother, Andrew, who took off years ago. Brice hadn’t heard from him in a good four years. He clenched his fist. Their little sister, Laura, hadn’t even been ten years old when Andrew left. How could his brother have done that to the family?
Brice found the dustpan and filled it twice. “You know better than me—cute is dangerous.”
His brother watched him work for a moment before speaking. “Not every woman is Audra.”
Brice winced. While thoughts of Audra didn’t bother him any longer, he still wanted to avoid that part of his life. Love had the same effect on the heart as a stingray barb did. It hurt and had the potential of killing something inside a man that didn’t ever want to be revived again.
“I didn’t come here to talk to you about women.”
Evan cocked his head and clearly fought a smile. “Half the time you act like you’re allergic to all of humanity and hole yourself up in your cabin all alone. Tonight you just happen to wander down to my shop in the heart of where the tourists hang out. I know you too well. You wouldn’t be here unless you had something serious to talk about.”
Brice scrubbed his hand over his aching jaw. His TMJ was acting up again. “How many times do I have to tell you that introverts don’t necessarily dislike people, we just prefer being alone more?”
“There are introverts and then there are hermits.” Evan held up both hands like a scale. “You, brother, lean much closer to the second category, I’m afraid. But that’s neither here nor there. What do you need?”
Brice’s brother had always possessed an ability to read people. Or maybe it only worked where Brice was concerned, since he and Evan had been through so much together. Brothers couldn’t spend hours as children huddled under piles of clothes in their closet, praying their father’s rampage ended before he found them, without becoming close.
Tell Evan about Dad’s voice mail? No. Not today.
Brice shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “I need advice.”
“All right.” Evan hopped up so he was seated on top of the counter by the register. “Shoot.”
“My business is in trouble.”
Evan’s eyes grew wide. “What kind of trouble? Do you need money? I could—”
Brice stopped Evan’s words by holding up his hands. “I didn’t come here to ask you for money. I hate admitting it, but I think I bit off more than I can chew. I’m not in serious trouble—at least not yet—but I could be soon if business keeps going in the direction it’s heading right now.”
“Are you behind on bills?”
“Not yet.”
“Listen.” Evan slid back down so he was standing on the floor. He crossed the room so he was inches away from Brice and lowered his voice. “Don’t mess with Sesser. Whatever you do, promise me you won’t go into debt to that man. He will... Just don’t get in debt to him.”
“Evan, I know what he did to you. I won’t—”
“Promise me.” Evan growled the words through clenched teeth. A vein on his neck bulged.
Brice dropped a hand onto his brother’s shoulder. “I won’t go into debt to the likes of him. You know I wouldn’t do that. I’d lose my house and move in with your hide before missing a payment to that man.”
“Good.” Evan lifted his shoulders, making Brice’s hand fall, and strode away from him. “So, what—exactly—is going on?”
“When I first started, shipments were good. But last winter was colder than normal and there was less of a demand. Last summer, since things seemed to be going well, I purchased more boats. And not just barges, all different kinds. If business had kept up like it had been, I would have been able to start socking away money. But it didn’t. Do you know how expensive upkeep on a boat is?”
Evan shrugged and glanced around his furniture shop. “Costs a lot more than buying wood.”
“And if those boats are just sitting in dock, taking a space that I have to pay for and not doing anything...they become a red line in my accounting books.”
“You still use actual books? The sort with paper and pens?”
“Stay on topic, will you?”
“Sorry. Too many boats.”
“Better.” Brice turned away from his brother and watched the people seated outside, on vacation, joking with one another. Had he ever taken a break or just gone away from home? Not other than college...and that could hardly have been considered a break. “I think I need to start selling off my boats and cut my fleet to just the two or three that are constantly in use. Then I’ll just pray that none of them break down.”
Short term, the unused boats might be a problem, but they only masked what truly bothered him. Sesser Atwood was the real issue.
What Brice wouldn’t give to get out from under that millionaire’s thumb. Everything the man touched turned bad. Made money, sure. But Atwood’s influence corrupted and did so absolutely. The man cared about success and compounding his money and nothing more. Paying rent to the man for space at the dock irked Brice more than he cared to admit, but other than moving, there’d been no other option when he first started his shipping company.
And moving from Goose Harbor was out of the question. At least while his younger sister still lived at home with his unstable parents. Brice needed to stay nearby, be there for her and take the brunt of their parents’ emotional outbursts whenever he could. He’d done the same for his brothers as much as he could. Besides, Brice knew a thing or two about bullies. He would put up with Sesser’s antics for as long as Laura needed him to.
Which left Brice with no other options. Sesser owned the moorings in Shadowbend, the next town over, as well as Goose Harbor. The property on the other side of town was a state preserve, so no docks there. He would have to go twenty miles up or down the lake in order to dock somewhere the tycoon didn’t own, and that put him too far from his little sister if there was an emergency.
The problem was Sesser charged as many fees as he could think up. It didn’t matter if a ship was taking something away or dropping off goods—Sesser collected money for both. He was the kind of man who walked the line between legal and illegal business dealings but had enough powerful friends in the state that it didn’t matter if he sometimes tipped too far into the illegal.
A sharp pain along the side of his face made Brice realize he was clenching his back molars together. He forced himself to relax with a deep breath. Hadn’t his doctor threatened him with surgery if he didn’t stop grinding his teeth and clenching his jaw all the time?
Too many years spent swallowing words could do that to a man.
Someday Brice would break free of Sesser Atwood and then he’d never deal with the man again. He’d watched Atwood destroy his father, scare his mother and steamroll his youngest brother’s one chance at happiness.
Brice wasn’t about to let the old businessman ruin him too.
“Selling the boats could work.” Evan braced his hands on the counter. “Or you could expand your business.”
“That’s what got me into trouble in the first place.”
“Not like you’re thinking. I mean find more work.”
“Believe me, I’ve tried to secure every contract on Lake Michigan. I’ve done everything to—”
“Sure, every shipping contract, but that’s not what I’m talking about. Think of something else to use the boats for.”
“Like?”
“Hey, just a simple woodworker here.” Evan held up his hands in mock surrender. “I can encourage you. Not actually come up with the ideas on the fly.”
Brice had considered using his boats for fishing tours. But fishing tours were hours of commitment. And this wasn’t the Caribbean. The fish in Lake Michigan might be huge, but there wasn’t all that impressive an assortment to be found.
“Fishing tours?” He tossed the words out to see what his brother would say.
Evan tapped his chin, thinking for a second. “That has merit. Although you’d have to hire someone to give the tours, and that would cost money.”
“I could do them. I know where the best fish—”
“You are many things, but a friendly tour guide is not one of them.”
“Maybe I’ll just sell the boats. Admit my losses and downsize.” He had a smattering of small vessels he’d picked up secondhand. They weren’t hauling boats, but he’d figured they’d be useful for something. So far, they’d been nothing but money pits. He’d sell them. Let them become someone else’s problems.
Evan opened his cash register and removed the drawer of money. “That could work too, and there’s no shame in that plan, but will it ruin you to give yourself one week to brainstorm a few other possible solutions?”
“A week’s not going to ruin me.”
“Then go back to that cabin of yours and think.”
At this time on a summer evening, the main part of downtown Goose Harbor was flooded with people, so much so that cars stopped driving down the roads because there were too many pedestrians to maneuver around. Besides, Brice had left his car by the docks. He’d exit out the back door of Evan’s business and cut across the beach. He needed to spend some time seeking out God’s guidance anyway. The less-congested evening beach would be the perfect place to go pray.
* * *
The short-lease condo that Kendall had found to rent when she first moved to town was located on the opposite end of Ring Beach from the main portion of town. Walking to her business meeting with Sesser and Claire had sounded like a great idea earlier, but now her feet ached. Heels weren’t built for cross-terrain travel.
A girl from the foothills of Kentucky would need to ease into beach living slowly. Even if it was only a freshwater beach on Lake Michigan, having never been to the ocean, she found it the biggest, most impressive beach she’d ever seen.
Which was one of the reasons why she’d chosen Goose Harbor as the perfect place to start her business. Sure, a place like Orlando or Los Angeles would have been ideal, but then again, they would have been far too pricey. Her savings wouldn’t have lasted long in one of those cities. Rent the first month or two would have drained her completely. Moreover, her little business would have been easy to overlook in a large city. She could have never marketed enough to get noticed somewhere big.
After seeing the article in Midwestern Travel magazine about the quaint tourist town of Goose Harbor that swelled to four times its population for six months of the year, she knew she’d found her location. Her dream could finally become a reality. Discovering that Ring Beach was one of two freshwater beaches in the whole country that made it onto a list of best beaches in the world—well, that information sealed the deal.
A place like Goose Harbor would draw lots of couples and people looking for romance. That was where Love on a Dime would step in and plan dates for them. Provide whole catalogs of choices for clueless men looking to impress their girlfriends or, better yet, plan their proposals. And when no one was in the market for a date, she’d offer event-planning services or book excursions for girls’ weekends. The process had become second nature after she’d worked as an event planner at the golf course near her hometown for the past eight years.
She often wondered how many of the weddings she’d overseen ended in divorce. Fifty percent—that was the going rate nowadays, right? The number never ceased to shock her as well as solidify her desire not to marry. She’d been right to leave her serial dating habits back in Kentucky. Men complicated things. No, actually sometimes men were quite useful. Like when heavy boxes were involved.
Love was the enemy more than anything. Love made a person foolish and far too trusting. Love was responsible for countless people getting taken advantage of. But not her. Thankfully she had always ended her relationships before they became too serious. Goose Harbor would be a baggage-free paradise for her.
“Wait up.” A voice behind her made her stop.
She turned around to find Brice Daniels a few feet away.
“Oh, hey. It’s Brice, right?”
“Yes.” A quick wince crossed his face before he masked it. Brice looked tired, or like he had something on his mind.
“Are you okay?”
“Just wondering why you’re so determined to cross this beach with those shoes on when the sand’s cooled down some by now.” He smiled, but the look didn’t reach those piercing, pale green eyes of his.
“But the sun’s only just setting.” She turned toward the lake, pointing at the sun, but then stopped and grabbed Brice’s solid arm. There was no adequate way to describe the beauty of the sun going down over the lake, so instead Kendall gasped. “Sit and watch this with me.” She tugged on his sleeve.
Brice didn’t argue. He dropped onto the sand and looped his arms over his knees. “It never gets old, does it?”
Kendall sat right beside him and watched the orange and magenta light dance with the coming night across the lake’s surface. “I’ve never seen a sunset quite like this. It’s...it’s...too much for words.”
“You should see it out on the lake.”
“I can.” She thrust her hand out to indicate the water.
“From a boat.”
“When I find someone with a boat, I will.”
“I own a whole fleet of them.”
Shifting her gaze from the sunset to Brice, she caught him staring at her. “Would you take me sometime?”
“Sure.” He shrugged.
“Soon.”
“Okay.”
“Tomorrow?”
Brice chuckled. “All right.”
Wait. Had she just forced him to take her on a date? Wow. Her forward personality always seemed to get her into trouble. But she hoped it didn’t come across that way. No. She hadn’t...right? She couldn’t, because Kendall was not dating anymore. Goose Harbor was going to be a boyfriend-free zone.
Kendall trailed her fingers through the sand. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine. I kind of forced that on you.”
He looked over at her and they made eye contact. “I want to.” His voice was soft, almost a whisper. Brice’s pale green eyes were so intense her breath caught for a heartbeat. He kept speaking. “I have some smaller boats that I need to test out. I’m trying to decide what to do with them. One is nicer, and I’ve only taken it out once since I bought it. She could use a spin out on the lake.”
“She?”
“All boats are women. I thought that was common knowledge.”
“I guess I don’t spend time with enough pirates to know these things about boats.”
“You slay me.” He laid his hand on his heart. “Do you see an eye patch or a peg leg here?”
“You’re right. Pirates certainly don’t use words like slay.”
“Blame the books for how I talk.”
“You’re a reader?” She wondered what types of books he read. Nonfiction books about fixing cars? Autobiographies about people who definitely weren’t pirates? Or did strong Brice Daniels curl up with a fictional mystery during his downtime? Her interest piqued, suddenly she wanted to know all about him.
“Of course.” Brice’s voice broke through her thoughts. “What else is there to do when you’re out on the lake?”
“Um, watch these amazing sunsets!” She slapped his arm but then left her hand there. “Brice, I was just hit with the most amazing idea. Care to hear me out?”
“Sure.” Another one-word answer.
“You don’t speak a ton, do you?”
“That’s what you wanted to talk about?”
“No, but I just thought that.”
“Do you say everything you think right when you think it?”
Kendall pursed her lips and rubbed her chin, pretending to think really hard for effect. It worked. Brice shook his head, a half grin on his face and his eyes twinkling with a shared joke.
“Okay.” Kendall rolled her eyes. “Most of the time I say exactly what I’m thinking. Right when I think it.”
“Well, I don’t.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Even with his boots on, he moved his feet back and forth in the sand as if he was digging in his toes. “I believe in thinking about things and not always saying them out loud. Words don’t always solve problems.”
“But sometimes they do.”
“Sometimes silence is better.”
“I feel sorry for your girlfriend.” Kendall slapped her hand over her mouth. “Wow. Sorry. That didn’t come out like it sounded in my head.”
Brice raised his eyebrows, but the lift at the edge of his lips told her he wasn’t mad.
Kendall pinched the bridge of her nose. “All right, you win. Sometimes silence is better, like it would have been four seconds ago. Let’s silently sit here and watch the sunset. Then we can silently walk across the beach. Afterward, we can silently say goodbye to each other. Won’t that be fun?”
“Why don’t you tell me your idea first? The one you had before getting off track.”
“I will. But sorry about the girlfriend thing. I’m sure she’s happy and—”
“I don’t have one, so no worries. No wives in the attic either.”
“Jane Eyre reference. Nicely done.” She sent him a wink.
Brice inched toward her. “Your idea?”
Kendall scooted so she was facing him. “Sunset cruises.”
“Yes...we’re doing one tomorrow.”
“Not just tomorrow. What if we had a planned sunset cruise every single week?”
His eyes grew wide. “You and me?”
“Well, yes, we’d both be there, but I’m talking about hosting it as a tourist activity. Every Friday night— Scratch that.” Kendall gathered up her hair and bunched it at the nape of her neck to keep the wind from whipping it around. “I’m sure there are better things you want to do on your Friday nights than spend them with me. Any night of the week would work really, as long as it was the same night each week so people could count on it. We’d charge a set fee and host a sunset cruise out onto the lake.”
Brice rocked a bit and leaned onto his elbows. He worked his jaw back and forth for a minute.
She’d gone too far, hadn’t she? Presumed upon this poor man who was now trying to find the kindest words he could to let her down. She always did this, didn’t she? Plowing ahead before thinking things through had only ever gotten her in trouble. And it made her a risk that most men didn’t want to be around. Like dynamite. They never knew when the risk would be too great or her ideas lead to failures.
This trait was probably what had driven her father to walk out on her and her mother when she was only six. Too much energy. Too many ideas. Too many failures.
Brice still hadn’t spoken up. She needed to take him out of his misery. “I shouldn’t have spouted that out like that. You don’t know me, and I know nothing of your boating company. And the cruises probably wouldn’t work, so—”
He finally sat up. “I think they will.”
“You... Really?”
“There are some smaller, fancier boats in my fleet. I bought them on a whim at an auction without knowing what I’d do with them. They could work really well for something like this.”
“You don’t think my idea is silly?”
He shook his head. “Not at all. It might be the answer to the prayer I hadn’t prayed yet.”
“Is that even possible?”
Brice nodded solemnly. “God knows what we need.”
Kendall flattened her hands against the cooled sand. “When should we start?”
“Let’s rein this in for a minute. How about we go on our cruise tomorrow and get a better idea of everything before making plans? Deal?” He rose to his feet, dusted off his pants and then held out a hand to her, helping her stand.
“Deal.”
They walked silently down the beach until they reached the edge, where they parted ways.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He headed toward the shipping yard.
“Until then.” She waved over her shoulder and headed home for the evening with a lighter step. Perhaps Brice Daniels was right. Maybe God answered prayers people hadn’t prayed yet.
Even hers.
