LITMIR.BIZ

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refuse to take his calls had shaken Caleb. He’d shove his way back inside this small crack.

      “It’s time to focus on rehabilitating the family image. The reserve is what caused the breakdown, so this lodge matters more than ever.” His stepfather inhaled slowly. “What we need now is a way to save some face, make some money and regain the ground we’ve lost in this political race.” He pointed at Caleb. “You did all this. Stop stalling and fix it.”

      He was responsible for all of it? No way. If either of them had listened to reason to begin with...

      It didn’t matter. They hadn’t, but Caleb hadn’t been much better. Sitting on all the boards required by the Callaway fortune was an obligation he did his best to shirk. Thanks to Winter Kingfisher’s insistence, he now knew more about the nature reserve and his brother’s election plans than he wanted to.

      “He doesn’t have anything to say to that.” Whit shook his head and crossed his arms in a tight knot over his chest. The disgruntled grimace on his face hadn’t changed much since he was twelve, but they’d outgrown the ability to wrestle away their grievances.

      The tension between them was always there. Being an adopted Callaway meant Caleb had a later start than his younger brother on getting everything he wanted. Before his mother’s marriage to Senior, they’d lived in an apartment and spent Sunday afternoons clipping coupons. At five, he’d loved scissors, and she’d always been smart enough to capitalize on the blessings that came her way.

      “I’m waiting to hear the plan. I know you have one.” Caleb pivoted to face his father. “Dad has a plan, I mean. Junior follows it. As always.” He couldn’t go for a headlock, so he’d use his words.

      Whit scoffed. “Unlike Caleb, who doesn’t need any help from anyone, ever. Right? Forget about the loans that started your business, the family connections that keep it afloat and the fact that you’re never here.” Whatever else he meant to say was swallowed whole, as his lips clamped tightly shut.

      Why had he stopped? He was absolutely right.

      Being unable to argue knocked Caleb off balance.

      “I’d first like to hear some kind of explanation about why you’d foul up the plan we had in place,” his brother snapped.

      Caleb shook his head. “It was the right thing to do. That lodge, if we’d built it at The Aerie, would have destroyed so much of what makes the reserve important. Habitat, old growth forest, the history of the land there.” He motioned widely, hoping they’d fill in the blanks. He didn’t have a firm grasp of the importance of the land protected by the reserve, but Winter had convinced him saving it mattered. “You’ve always taken such pride in donating that land to the people of Tennessee. What I don’t get is how you could have ever believed building there was worth everything you’d lose.”

      “I was in a hurry.” His stepfather checked the clock, the lines around his eyes convincing Caleb he was exhausted. “Time is short. The election is many months away. We want the lodge story laid to rest. Ash Kingfisher has been working with the same firm that did the first environmental-impact study to evaluate the spot over by the old weather station. The board is pleased with the results. The architect’s drawings have been modified to meet the demands of the report and the new elevation. We need this lodge finished, Caleb. I’ll divert a Callaway Construction crew to join yours to speed things up. Whit will officially announce his run for governor there, but to do so, this project has to be fast-tracked. Now.”

      Caleb wanted to argue. He had his own business, built one project at a time, and was sitting on the edge of real success. The Yarborough luxury subdivision, Rivercrest, would keep him in business for years and allow him to build as he wanted. Was his company the size of Callaway Construction? Not yet, but taking this project would delay the growth a high-profile project in Nashville might bring.

      Building the lodge would be trouble from top to bottom and beginning to end. Small-town Sweetwater would bore him to death. And then there was the proximity to Winter Kingfisher.

      But he’d been on the outside with no way to even look in, and Caleb could acknowledge both Senior and Junior had good reason to demand payback.

      “Fine. I’m the lucky guy, not a midlevel manager from Callaway Construction, who’ll take over.” Caleb propped his hands on his hips and frantically evaluated different objections. None of them would hold water. “What about my crew? Who is paying them while I’m doing this?”

      “Bring them. Put your crew to work on the lodge. Callaway Construction will pick up the tab. Run both crews. Get this done. It’s your mama’s dream, too. For once, instead of wasting money on frivolity and fun little projects, help us. The timing is crucial. So is doing this the right way.” Senior’s lips disappeared in a tight line. “We need you.”

      They needed him? Had he ever heard that before? Not that he could remember.

      “Dinner’s ready. Tell me where we’re going to end up with this negotiation.” Caleb’s vaguely guilty conscience was only going to push him so far.

      “You got a promotion, son.” His stepfather stood and hitched up his pants before settling his belt around his waist. “It’s time you joined Callaway Construction as more than a name on the financial report. This lodge? It’s your first project. You’ll come in on time and under budget. And you’re going to make sure those Kingfishers disappear. I don’t want to hear one more word out of Sweetwater. Winter Kingfisher...” He grimaced. “She knows how to keep the news stirred up, and thanks to her job at the reserve, she has connections with all the news stations around the state capitol. If she’s talking about the reserve lodge or Whit, you distract her.”

      Caleb waited for more direction. There had to be more, didn’t there?

      Senior waited for him to agree.

      “I’m not sure how any mortal man is going to distract Winter Kingfisher if she doesn’t want to be distracted.” Caleb turned back to stare at Whit. “I mean, not even the golden boy here could hold on to her long enough to get her to say ‘I do.’” And didn’t it say a whole lot that no one in the room was plotting to win his ex-fiancée back to their side. Stupid mistake.

      If Caleb had convinced Winter to marry him, she’d be priority number one in this recovery plan. He might be annoyed with her, but no one would doubt she’d been the brains in this political organization.

      Standing his ground when Whit marched up to aggressively invade his space was easy. He had six inches and at least fifty pounds on Whit, not to mention right on his side. Caleb had his long-gone father’s build: big, solid, ready to work.

      His brother, who’d always given off the polo athlete vibe—rich, lanky and well-dressed enough to hide narrow shoulders—should be bearing more of the responsibility here. Caleb couldn’t imagine Winter sitting silently by while the Callaways planned this lodge, but even if she had, Whit had still gone after her brother in a public way, with them both ending up on the front pages. Firing Ash Kingfisher, a man who’d never been anything but a solid champion of the reserve? Yeah, even Caleb knew there was no way Winter could have let their engagement stand after that.

      And instead of plotting to win her back, the Callaways were trying to keep her quiet.

      “She was always too much for you, wasn’t she, Whit?” Caleb asked softly, mad all over again at being the odd one out in this family. He took a childish pleasure in the way his brother stepped back. Whit wanted to fight. He’d never been able to best Caleb physically. Being his father’s favorite had always been enough to get by.

      “All my boys in one room.” His mother was posing in the doorway again. “Dinner is ready. Come to the table.” She tried a beautiful smile, but steel laced her words when she added, “Now. No fighting.”

      “Coming, Marjorie.” His stepfather pointed with his chin. “One more minute. That’s all we need.”

      She surveyed all three of them before turning and slowly walking away, the clipped steps

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