Timber Creek(22)

“Sure.” He shrugged. “You mean that rundown ranch what’s on the old logging creek?”

“That’s the one.”

He waved it off. “Yeah, Jessup told me about it. He says sprucing it up could be good for the town. Damned if those dot-commers ever did anything with the place. Fat waste that was. Good people could’ve been living there all this time.”

“Nobody is going to live there,” Laura said. “His project is to turn it into a hotel.”

“What of it?”

“What of it?” She looked to her sister for support.

Sorrow took over in more even tones, telling him, “Laura’s worried because of who the developer is. Fairview Properties isn’t exactly small potatoes. They’ve got plans to turn the ranch into a resort.”

“But they mostly run those little hippie places, where they charge rich people an arm and a leg to eat nuts and berries, that sort of thing.”

“They run world-class resorts,” she protested. “They’ll be touting this as a world-class resort.”

Bear looked back and forth between the two of them, clearly not getting it. “That little place?”

“They’re building up that little place,” Laura said. “They’re turning it into a spa thing, like Forever Sleepy Resort or something ridiculous like that. Whatever. What I do know is that once they finish, it’ll be just a matter of time before they put us out of business.”

Their dad thought on that for a moment but finally brushed it off. “I don’t care how big they are, that old ranch is small potatoes, and small potatoes ain’t gonna bring us down. Not with Sorrow in the kitchen now.” He gave his youngest a wink.

“How times change,” Sorrow murmured with a smirk. Just a year ago, Sully had been in charge of the food, and it was meat loafs and meat pies all around.

“Well, some things don’t change,” Bear asserted. “I’ve seen that old rancher go from hand to hand since I was a kid. Trust me. Nobody’s gonna bend over backward to stay there.”

The girls’ eyes met. There was no convincing Dad when he didn’t want to be convinced. At least her sister would be able to enjoy several months of cooking before they went under.

“It’ll be okay,” Sorrow mouthed to her as she went to the sink to fill the pot with water.

Bear followed and peered over her shoulder. “What the heck are you making?” Suspicion was thick in his voice.

“She’s just busting out her famous toxic witch’s brew,” Laura deadpanned.

“Jeez, Dad, it’s soup.” Sorrow gave a swirl to the water with her spoon.

“Looks watery.”

“This is how it’s done,” she said matter-of-factly.

He peered closer, picking up a particularly long leaf. “What the heck is this?”

“A leek.”

“Sounds like a plumbing problem, not a vegetable.”

“That’s it.” Sorrow spun and waggled her fingers at him. “Shoo! Out of my kitchen.”

“Come on, Dad.” Laura put her arm through his. “I hear zombie hordes might be coming to the tavern today.”

“What on earth?” her father exclaimed as she ushered him into the dining room. “Zombie-whats? What are you talking about?”

But she barely heard him. All she registered was the sight of Eddie, folding his long, strong body into a booth. “Apocalypse,” he said in his deep voice. “Sounds bad. Should I go get my gun?”

She stopped short, glaring. “Eddie.”

“In the flesh, tiger.” He gave her a slow smile. “Just in time, too. You’ll need somebody around to help propagate the species.”