Rescue Me: A Frazier Falls Novel Read online

  Rescue Me

  A Frazier Falls Novel

  Kelly Collins

  Copyright © 2019 by Kelly Collins

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover design by Victoria Cooper Art

  Contents

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  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Thank you for reading.

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  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

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  Chapter One

  Carla

  There were no two ways about it. The numbers didn’t lie. We were standing on the edge of a cliff with a storm at our backs.

  I plunked into the chair that used to belong to my mother. Despite its fading and cracking, it was one of my favorite things in the office. She’d insisted on the soft, butter yellow leather because the walls were knotty pine and darkened the room. The chair was a “bit of sunshine,” she used to say. Oh, how I missed my mother, especially in times like these.

  I looked up from the oak desk to my brother. “Rich, you can’t seriously consider selling the mill. It’s … it’s our legacy.” Disappointment sat heavy on my chest, threatening to suffocate me.

  “There’s nothing else we can do.” He pointed to the negative numbers on the spreadsheet lit up on my computer. “We’re not getting the revenue to keep the business running, and there’s no way to cut expenses.”

  He plopped into the chair across from me and grumbled, staring at the soiled overalls I wore. They were my in-the-trenches outfit for when I had to pull a shift in the mill. Now that the crew was down to essential personnel only, I was forced to become a jack of all trades. Today I was a mechanic. No two days were the same. Who knew what tomorrow would bring?

  “I don’t like this.” I fisted my hands in my lap. “Where did we go wrong?”

  “We didn’t go wrong, Carl. We can’t force the market to change.”

  I half expected Rich to use my birth name, given the dire circumstances we were facing.

  I ran a hand through my hair as I sank farther into my chair. “What the hell is the appeal of steel buildings? What happened to people’s tastes? Wood and glass. What could be more perfect?”

  He came up behind me to gently squeeze my shoulders. “Sadly, we can’t afford to stay in the game, hoping the market will change. You need to think seriously about it, Carla.”

  Oh no, my real name.

  “I won’t make a final decision without having you firmly in my corner, but don’t take too long.” He stepped back. “I don’t want the prospective buyer to go elsewhere.”

  I stood and whipped around to face him. My eyes grew bigger than the trees we harvested. My mouth opened wide enough to swallow all the sawdust we hauled out of here weekly.

  “You already have a buyer?” I hated this out of control feeling. Hated that my hands were tied. Hated that, in a blink of an eye, our lives had changed.

  “Don’t get upset. They came to me, not the other way around. Their offer is solid, considering our situation.”

  Bitter bile rose in my throat, but I swallowed back the need to choke.

  Years ago, my mother had sat at this desk. Across the room was my father’s, which now belonged to Rich. I ran my fingers over the letters I’d carved into the wood top when I was eight. That C and S had gotten me a doozy of a spanking, but it was worth it because the memory of that day was etched into my brain and on this desk forever. Some things were worth keeping.

  “How could you start discussions without me?” I didn’t recognize the frantic high pitch of my voice.

  He leaned over, so we were eye to eye. “You have to be reasonable.”

  “No, I don’t.” The words flew from my mouth like poisoned darts. “What I need is time alone to think.” Feeling a headache coming on, I rubbed my temples and lowered my head. “Can’t you go and have a coffee or something?”

  He took a step back. “Sure. You want anything?”

  I lifted my head. “Silence.”

  He ruffled my hair. “Such a grump, but I’ll head over to the diner and get you a mocha. Lord knows you can use something to sweeten you up.”

  I smoothed my hair back into place and gave him a weak smile. He could always cheer me up. Chocolate and whipped cream was my solution to ninety percent of the world’s problems. “Extra whipped cream and a drizzle of fudge?”

  “You got it.”

  “You know I love you.”

  “Love you, too, sis.”

  As soon as Rich was out of sight, I collapsed back into the chair and practically face-planted into my desk. While this round of setbacks seemed to come out of the blue, it was a decade in the making.

  God, has it been ten years since I graduated? Nine since I traipsed around Europe before returning home to take my place in the family business?

  The thought was ironic because time stood still in Frazier Falls. Despite what it offered and what it lacked, this small town was home. It was getting smaller and smaller every year with the same old people and the same old problems, but I loved it.

  The bigger issue was that my life hadn’t moved forward since my parents passed, and I came in to help take over the mill. Life was on fast forward while we were stuck on the same replay. Phone calls, deals, begging creditors for more time, finding a way to make the payroll. Borrow, stall, sell whatever we could to pay the bills. Go to sleep, wake up, run on repeat.

  What I needed was some great advice, but Rich and I only had each other.

  When I thought of mentors, two Frazier Falls residents came to mind. There was Alice, the waitress at the diner. She saw a lot and knew a lot, but her best advice was to get married and have babies. There was also John Reilly, the bar owner who handed out words of wisdom like candy bars on Halloween. Only his words were more like snippets from a greeting card than real-world advice. He was sweet and meant well, but he wasn’t family and knew nothing about lumber mills. Whatever wisdom they could impart would never solve our problems. We were in this alone.

  Now we were screwed, but was it so dire that we had to sell? Was it a good enough reason to turn over our mill and the land which grew the trees that provided our livelihood? I couldn’t imagine leaving.

  “Where would we go?” My words echoed in the empty room.

  Without the mill, we didn’t have a reason to stay in Frazier Falls.

  I stared sightlessly at my computer—the spreadsheet of orders highlighted on the screen. There were far too few for comfort. Even our biggest client, Cooper Construction, couldn’t keep us afloat long term.

/>   When the market changed, either you went with the flow, or you drowned. If people weren’t buying wood, then we were bound to sink. Funny how the one thing that could float—our lumber—would take us under.

  Life was unfair. Career opportunities were slim unless I could pull a beer at one of the two nearby bars or become a short-order cook at the diner.

  To start a business from scratch would be a hard task with no promise we’d get our feet off the ground.

  The idea would have appealed to me when I was younger, but now that I was thirty-two, I wasn’t up for a grand adventure. This was the age where I thought I’d be settling down and having a family.

  “A mocha for my sister,” Rich pushed through the door, startling me. He handed me the steaming cup, which I held in my cold hands.

  Though Frazier Falls was warm this time of the year, my office was always freezing, and today was no exception.

  “Thanks.” I held the cup under my nose and breathed in the sweet scent of happiness. Some things in life were predictable and constant, and Alice made a perfect mocha every time. It would be hard to leave that, too.

  “Have you calmed down?”

  I stared at my brother as he sat in the chair in front of my desk. “Yes. No. I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Me either.” He kicked back and brought his coffee to his lips.

  Guilt pricked at my insides. All this time, I’d been wallowing in my despair without much regard to him. I’d never considered his goals. He’d always been part of the mill, but maybe his push to sell was something that ran deeper.

  “Is there something you want to do?” I asked. “Like, did you always want to take over the mill, or was it kind of the way things were meant to be?”

  He rubbed the scruff on his chin and, with a shrug, he said, “I don’t know. I studied finance for the business if that’s what you mean. I enjoy it, so I guess you could say I’m doing what I want.”

  “Did you ever want to travel? Set up a business of your own? Work for a bank in New York? Become a rich asshole and—”

  “All right, Carl, don’t get ahead of yourself.” He kicked his feet up on the corner of the desk. “I never wanted any of those things. Possibly to set up my own business, but …”

  “But you don’t know what that business would be?”

  His eyes grew large. “Yeah, exactly that.” He looked left and right as if taking in the world around him. “This is what we know.”

  “It’s how I feel, too. Despite our failure here, I think we’d be a good team at a new venture.”

  “You bet your ass we’d be good.” A grin slowly spread across his face. “All we have to do is come up with an idea. If we thought of something solid, would you be okay with selling the mill?”

  I shook my head. “I’d never want to sell if I could avoid it, but if it’s an unfortunate certainty, then what can we do? We can’t fix what’s far too broken.”

  “Then it’s settled.” He let his feet hit the floor, and his hand slapped the top of my desk. The loud thud echoed around the nearly empty room. “We meet these buyers and work out what we’re going to do next.”

  All the fight inside me left in an exhale. “I’ll meet with the buyers, hear them out for your sake, but I reserve the right to reject anything that will hurt the mill and the people dependent on it.” A cold, hollow feeling moved through me. Not even the hot mocha could remove the icy dread from within.

  “Then, we’ve got a plan.”

  Not wanting to spoil my brother’s rare moment of optimism, I agreed. “Damn right we do.”

  I smiled though I wanted to cry. The mill was an important part of my life. I wouldn’t go down easy. I wasn’t a quitter. I’d fight for what was right. I was a Stevenson.

  Chapter Two

  Owen

  What was worse, lying to others or lying to myself? Focused and head down, I pored over the plans on the table, certain that what sat in front of me was the payoff for years of hard work. Positive that everything I’d given up would be worth the sacrifice. Confident that my life was going to change.

  Oblivious to the surrounding chatter in the diner, I zoned into my task until my brother Paxton slid into the booth across from me.

  “I knew I’d find you here. I swear you spend more time at this table than at your desk.” He picked up a fork, ready to steal a bite of my apple pie.

  I swiped the plate from his reach and looked around the diner. “This is my booth. This is my desk.” I forked the last bite and shoved it into my mouth before Pax could steal it. I savored the tart apples and the perfect flaky crust. No one made pie like Alice.

  “What brings you downstairs?”

  He tapped his watch. “The workday is over, and it’s time to relax. Eli is closing up shop.”

  I looked up to the ceiling as if I could see my brother locking the doors of the space we rented above the diner for Cooper Construction.

  Alice Bransen walked over, the rubber soles of her high-top tennis shoes squeaking across the worn wooden floors.

  “You want a coffee, Pax?”

  He nodded but added, “When are you going to let us refinish the hardwood flooring?”

  She shook her head. “There’s nothing wrong with my floors.”

  I groaned because this was a conversation we visited at least once a week.

  “They’re old.”

  Alice tucked her pen behind her ear and leaned against the Formica tabletop. “Just because it’s old doesn’t mean it’s finished. I’m old but far from done.”

  Eli appeared and slid into the booth next to Pax.

  “You want a cup of coffee, too?” Alice pushed away from the table and looked at Eli.

  “You always know what I want.”

  She shook her head. “No, darlin’. I know what you need, and it’s not a coffee but probably a kick in the pants. We’ll stick with the brew for now.”

  Alice left, and I sat with my brothers staring at me.

  “What?”

  Eli reached for the sugar and cream, getting ready for Alice’s return. “I see a huge rescue mission ahead. It’s been a long day. Time to go home and relax.”

  I looked at them and knew they wouldn’t stop hounding me. Usually, the clock struck five, and the three of us were out of the building before another second could pass, but I was close to finishing my Green House Project plans. The thrill of accomplishment rushed through my veins.

  Things at Cooper Construction had been good. However, more jobs created additional paperwork and extended hours. Add to that my secret project, and I didn’t have time for a nightly beer at Reilly’s Bar.

  I was so close, I could taste success. If I got it working perfectly—if I could iron out the final few kinks—then I would be sitting on an ecological goldmine.

  I set my hands on the table and sighed. “Go on without me. I’ll find you in an hour or two, I promise.” My intentions were honest. As soon as I finished revising my lumber order, I’d join them, but to leave so close to completion would be like driving a car without tires. Neither would get me where I wanted to go.

  “God, you’re no fun,” Eli complained. “You’re like Dad in better clothes.”

  The mention of our father forced us all to stop and think. The last few years had been tragic for the Coopers. It started with Mom coming down with cancer and dying a few months later.

  Dad never had a chance. He was so tied up in his love for her that he died brokenhearted not too long after. A series of tragedies had brought us brothers together. Cooper Construction made us a team.

  Paxton chimed in to change the subject. “Bring back the old Owen. Consulting on the Abundant Project for the Savage brothers changed your whole attitude about work.”

  Alice dropped off two cups of coffee. “Anything else?”

  “No ma’am,” I said, hoping to plant the idea that my brothers would be leaving soon.

  “Suit yourself. Remember all work and no play and all that.”

 
The door to the diner opened, and Devon Sloan from the Stevenson Mill walked in. I nodded in his direction, then turned my attention back to my brothers.

  “Look, guys, I’m almost finished. I’ll be there soon.”

  Pax let out a low whistle. “Do whatever you want, but don’t work too late; otherwise, you’ll be unbearable tomorrow.”

  “I’m never unbearable.” I valued my sleep, but I also loved my work. Surely, I could find a balance between the two. “Are you going to Reilly’s to get unsolicited wisdom?” John Reilly owned our favorite bar and gave council through his quirky quotes.

  “No, I thought we’d relax and enjoy a beer by the creek. The weather is nice.”

  “That sounds great.” I looked up from my paperwork to their faces. “I’ll catch you there in an hour for sure.”

  My brothers lifted their coffee mugs. Pax added, “I’ll drink to you being home in an hour. We’ll meet you at the creek behind your house. The beers are already chilling.” Eli and Pax tapped mugs and drank deeply. “That will give you enough time to finish up while Alice gets our burgers ready.” He smiled so big the corners of his lips nearly touched his ears.

  Eli turned to Pax. “I like the way you think. The only kink in the plan is getting him to leave this booth.” He finished his coffee and set his mug heavily on the table. “We could be eating petrified beef by the time he shows up.”

  “I said I’d be there.”

  Eli lifted from the bench. “We’ll hold you to that.”