Let It Be Read online

  Chapter Three

  “A dream you dream alone is only a dream.

  A dream you dream together is reality.”

  —John Lennon

  Linc smiled as he remembered his arrival in Mississippi and the warm welcome he’d received from Joseph and Keisha, who were his and Molly’s good friends to this day. They’d made a lot of good friends that summer, people they’d stayed close to in the ensuing years. That summer had been all about heat, hard work, good food, great friends, life lessons and love.

  Speaking of love, Molly came back to the kitchen with their grandson, Caden, in her arms. The little guy chirped with excitement at the sight of Linc, who reached for him.

  Molly handed him over.

  Linc snuggled the sweet-smelling baby and kissed the top of his head. “Where’s your daddy, pal?”

  “In the shower,” Molly answered. “He said he’ll be down in a few minutes for the family meeting.”

  Max had come home from work at midday to take Caden to an appointment, and so Molly could go into town for her weekly lunch with Linc and Elmer. Under normal circumstances, Max would be on his way back to work—either at the mountain with Colton or the tree farm with Landon.

  But since Linc had received that bombshell phone call, nothing about this day was normal for any of them.

  “Are you okay, Dad?” Hunter asked.

  Linc glanced at his son. “I’m okay. Of course it’s upsetting, but it’s nothing to worry about.”

  “That’s good,” Hunter said, visibly relieved.

  It was astonishing, really, how much it still hurt, even after all this time. As he held his grandson close, he tried to tell himself that the family he’d created with Molly had more than filled the void of the one he’d lost. But it hadn’t. Not completely. How could you ever “replace” the people you’d grown up with? He simply couldn’t imagine any of his children being estranged from him and Molly or one another.

  When the kids were younger and squabbling the way siblings did, Linc was forever reminding them that the best friends they’d ever have in their lives were the people right in their home. His children had heard that often enough that they’d taken it to heart and remained “thick as thieves,” as Elmer liked to say, as adults.

  Lincoln counted that as one of the greatest achievements of his life, because he knew all too well that it didn’t always work out that way, that the bonds of family could be far more fragile than they appeared.

  Over the next half hour, the kids trickled into the barn. First Ella, then Landon, Colton and Will. Hannah came with baby Callie, and Lucas showed up still wearing his fire department uniform. He’d been so thankful to return to work after being sidelined for almost two months following the fire at the inn. It was a relief to see him healthy, strong and in uniform.

  Max came downstairs, fresh from the shower and immediately took note of Caden snuggled up with his dad. He was such a great dad to his little boy.

  “What’s on the docket?” Charley asked, her cheeks red from the cold.

  “I’ll tell you when Wade gets here.”

  “I’m here,” Wade said, coming in with Elmer right behind him.

  “That’s all of us, Dad,” Hunter said, always the leader of the pack.

  “Let’s go in the family room,” Linc said, taking note of the unusual apprehension in his children’s expressions and posture.

  He followed them into the large but cozy room they’d decorated with multiple sofas when everyone still lived at home. They’d spent a lot of time there together, watching movies and sports and playing games.

  Caden snuggled into Linc’s embrace as if the little guy knew he needed some extra love just then.

  Molly sat next to him, her hand on his leg. As she had from the very beginning of their journey, she was worth every sacrifice he’d made to be with her.

  “Thanks for coming, everyone.”

  “You’re kinda freaking us out, Dad,” Charley said in her typically blunt style.

  “Sorry to worry you.” After a deep breath, he took the plunge. “You know I never talk about my family. My original family, I should say. I’m sure you’ve wondered why we don’t see them or hear from them. It’s not something I like to think about, let alone talk about, which is why I’ve steered clear of the subject. My father… He’s a difficult, exacting man who likes to be in control of everything in his world, especially his children. When my older brother, Hunter, was killed in an accident when he was twenty, we were shattered.”

  “God, Dad,” Hannah said. “I’m so sorry you lost him.”

  “It was brutal, and my father… He became more unyielding than ever after we lost Hunter. As his eldest living son, it was understood, by him, that I’d take Hunter’s place, come into the family business like my brother was supposed to and take over for him when he was ready to retire.”

  “What was the family business?” Will asked.

  “Commercial real estate in Philadelphia.”

  “What happened to your brother?” Wade said.

  “He was hit in the head with a boom while sailing and was knocked overboard. The autopsy determined that he drowned.”

  “I’m so sorry, Dad,” Ella said.

  “It was an awful, shocking loss, especially since Hunt was such a skilled sailor.” Linc thought of his late brother and his other three siblings just about every day. He retrieved worn family photos from his wallet and handed the first one to Hunter. “That’s the uncle you were named for.”

  Hunter studied the image. “I look like him.”

  “Yes, you do. Here’s one of all of us.” He gave the second photo to Hannah. “My sister, Charlotte, and my other brothers, Will and Max, are in that one.”

  “You named us after them,” Max said.

  “We did, because I never stopped missing them.” The raw pain of their initial split had been replaced, over time, by a feeling of nostalgia for the years they’d spent together. Back then, he’d been naïve to think that nothing could ever come between them. He’d found out otherwise in the most painful way possible.

  “Since I didn’t really have a better plan for myself, I went along with my father’s plan for me after Hunter died. I wanted to keep the peace and not upset anyone after what we’d already been through.” Linc forced himself to continue the story, determined to get it over with once and for all. “I mean, it’s not like he was trying to hand over a crappy business. Quite the contrary. It was a thirty-million-dollar-a-year enterprise at that time, and from what I’ve seen and heard, it’s only grown in the ensuing years.”

  Hunter let out a low whistle.

  “In the back of my mind, always, was this niggling feeling that I wasn’t meant for the commercial real estate business. But as long as I did what was expected of me, I was in my father’s good graces. I had one more year of school planned at Oxford, which I’d insisted on out of fear that I might never get to the UK if I didn’t make that happen, and then it would be time to go to work. I was resigned, if not very excited about it.”

  He glanced at Molly and smiled. “And then I met your mother.”

  At the end of his first full day working on the construction site, Lincoln was tired, dirty, sweaty and sore. He’d had a true comeuppance when it came to realizing how easy college and grad school had been compared to the work he was doing now.

  “How you holding up, Yank?” Joseph asked with a good-natured grin.

  “I’m wrecked.”

  Joseph threw his head back and laughed. “You’ll get used to it. Eventually.”

  “I’ll have to take your word for that.” Lincoln stretched the kinks out of his back that’d come from hauling building supplies from the delivery point to houses in various stages of construction. They were located around a wide swath of green space that would be used as a community gathering place once the development was completed.

  Some of the houses were only framed, while others were much closer to completion. Joseph had told him that different teams
worked on different houses, from framers to drywallers to finish carpenters, with plumbers and electricians coming and going as needed.

  Lincoln could only imagine the coordination that went into the dizzying activity.

  “Hey, Joseph,” one of the foremen called from a house a few hundred yards from where they were standing. “We’ve got a problem you need to see.”

  “Ugh, it’s always something.” Joseph checked his watch. “Our last volunteer is arriving at five thirty. Would you mind taking my truck to pick her up at the bus station?”

  Linc desperately wanted a shower, a change of clothes and something to eat, but he took the keys from Joseph, who had far more to contend with than Linc ever had. “Happy to.”

  “Thanks a million. Bring her back here, and I’ll drop you both at the campground on the way home.”

  “Will do.”

  “Do you remember how to get there?”

  “I think so.”

  Joseph gave him verbal directions that Linc tried to commit to memory, hoping he wouldn’t get lost. “You’re looking for Molly Stillman.”

  “I’ll find her.”

  As Lincoln drove into town, he took in the sights along the way. Families were gathered on spacious front porches, kids played in parks, and teenagers huddled together in groups. He passed an antique store, a diner, the post office, an art gallery and a variety of other shops and restaurants. Having never lived in a small town, he was fascinated by the slower pace, the sense of community and the obvious closeness of the town’s residents.

  The farther he got from town, the more houses became dilapidated, overgrown, neglected. Some bore obvious damage from the hurricane. He felt good knowing he would help to make a difference for the families who’d benefit from their project, but the need was obviously much greater than a hundred and fifty houses.

  Absorbed in the observations, he nearly missed the last turn for the bus station and realized he needed to turn only when he saw a bus pulling out of the road that led to the station. He parked and got out of the truck. Now that he’d arrived, he wondered how he’d recognize someone he’d never met.

  And then he spotted a woman standing alone, a backpack at her feet, and walked over to her. “Are you Molly?”

  She looked up at him, and whoa. Pretty. That was the first word that popped into his mind. When she smiled, his entire system went haywire as he took in her gorgeous face. She had long honey-colored hair, golden brown eyes and a sprinkling of freckles across her nose that he found ridiculously adorable.

  “Are you Joseph?” she asked.

  It took him a full ten seconds to realize she expected him to reply. He blinked, cleared his throat and shook his head. “I’m Lincoln Abbott, one of the other volunteers. Joseph sent me to pick you up.”

  “I’m Molly Stillman.”

  He shook her outstretched hand, wondering how an average handshake could feel so far above average. “Nice to meet you. I came right from working all day at the site, so sorry to be picking you up filthy.”

  “No worries.”

  Linc bent to pick up her bag and saw that she had a second one slung over her back. “Is this everything?”

  “Yep. I was told to travel light, and holy crap, it’s hot.”

  “This is nothing.” Linc led the way to Joseph’s truck. “Wait until you see what midday is like.”

  “Can’t wait,” she said with a wry grin that he caught out of the corner of his eye. “Have you been here long?”

  “Just since yesterday.”

  “Where’re you from?”

  “Philadelphia originally, but I’ve spent the last six years in New Haven, Connecticut.”

  “What’s in New Haven?”

  “Yale.”

  “Ah. I see.”

  He held the passenger door to the truck for her. “What about you? Where’re you from?”

  “A tiny little town in Vermont called Butler. I just graduated from Middlebury and jumped at the chance to get out of Vermont and experience something new before I start work in the fall.”

  “What’re you doing for work?”

  “Joining the family business,” she said with a decided lack of enthusiasm that he could certainly relate to.

  “What’s the business?”

  “A country store that my grandparents founded.”

  “That sounds fun.”

  “Does it? To me, it sounds… small.” She winced and quickly added, “But it’s fun, too.”

  Lincoln thought about what she’d said and tried to contend with his unprecedented reaction to her as he rounded the front of the truck and got in the driver’s side. He’d had his share of girlfriends, but he’d never met anyone as lovely as Molly Stillman from Butler, Vermont.

  “What’s the store like?”

  “It’s an old-time country store, full of nostalgia and products you used to be able to get that are now hard to find. Plus housewares, toys, health stuff and, of course, maple syrup and cheese, two things Vermont is famous for.”

  “It sounds amazing.”

  “It is. Don’t get me wrong. It’s a very special place, and I’ve loved it all my life. One of my earliest memories was going to work with my dad on Saturdays and getting to pick out penny candy to bring home to my little sister.”

  “That’s a sweet memory.”

  “Ha, no pun intended, right? All my memories of the store are sweet, and I really do love it. It’s just that I’m not sure I want to spend my whole life working there, you know?”

  He knew all too well. “I get it. I’m expected to join my family’s business, too.”

  “What’s your business?”

  “Commercial real estate.”

  “That sounds more interesting than a country store.”

  “You might be surprised to hear I have zero interest in it. I’m giving myself this summer and next year in England to work up some enthusiasm.”

  “What’s in England?”

  “Oxford. I’m doing a postgraduate year there, which is a dream come true. I have a little thing for the Beatles, and it’s been a longtime goal to spend a year in England.”

  “A little thing for the Beatles,” she said, laughing. “I have a feeling you might be understating it if you’re going to spend a year in England because of your love of a band.”

  “I might be understating it a tiny bit.”

  “Tell me the truth. You’re obsessed, right?”

  “What’s the next level above obsessed?”

  “Sociopathic?”

  “That might be about right.”

  Her laughter sent a strange shiver of sensation darting through him, filling him with an acute awareness of another human being that was all new to him.

  “Which Beatle is your favorite?”

  “Like… you want me to choose one of them?” He glanced over at her to see her smile.

  “Yes. Just one.”

  “Oh God, how do I choose?”

  “Come on. Surely someone has asked you this before.”

  “They have, and I’ve always refused to pick one, but something tells me you aren’t going to let me off the hook that easily.”

  “You’d be right about that. Man up and choose.”

  Linc groaned loudly and dramatically. “Do you promise never to tell the others I picked one of them?”

  “I solemnly swear.”

  “John,” he said through gritted teeth.

  Cupping her ear, she said, “What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.”

  “John! Are you happy now?”

  “Not until you tell me why you chose him.”

  “You’re killing me here, but I chose him because he’s not just an amazing musician. He’s also a poet. His lyrics are just… They’re life.”

  “What’s your favorite Beatles song?”

  “I can only have one?”

  “In this instance, yes.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t just graduate from law school? I feel like you might’ve missed your call
ing as a prosecutor.”

  Again, her laughter touched and delighted him.

  “If you’re going to force me to choose, then I’d say, ‘Let It Be,’ even though Paul wrote that one and John allegedly hated the song.”

  “You’re going to think I’m lying, but that’s my favorite, too. Although, I’m not all that into the Beatles.”

  “Wait. What did you just say? You’re not that into the Beatles?”

  “You heard me right. I’m more of a Rolling Stones kinda girl.”

  “At least they’re still British.”

  “You really have a thing for the Brits, huh?”

  “I’ve always been fascinated by the monarchy and British history, which was my double major in college along with business, so I guess it stands to reason I’m into British music, too.”

  “Who else besides the Beatles?”

  “I love Queen, the Stones and the Who. I’m digging the Clash lately, but the Beatles will always be my number one.”

  “What do you think of Wings?”

  “I like them, but not like I love the Beatles.”

  “I’m sensing a pattern here.”

  “You’ve already decided I’m a sociopath.” He couldn’t recall the last time he enjoyed a conversation so much.

  “That’s true.”

  “Tell me more about Vermont. I’ve never been there.”

  “It’s the prettiest place you’ll ever see. Mountains and trees and beautiful lakes. And when it snows, it’s magical. Sometimes, the snow is hip-deep, and even then, I still love it. A lot of people hate the snow, but not me. I don’t think I could live somewhere that doesn’t get snow, but then again, I’ve never wanted to live anywhere but Vermont.”

  He could hear in every word she said how much she loved her home state.

  She watched the world go by outside the passenger window as they drove through the area he’d seen before, made up of houses in need of repairs. “It’s a little overwhelming to see up close.”

  “It is. It makes you realize how important the construction project is to so many people.”

  “We’re going to leave here wishing we could’ve done more.”

  He already liked her more than just about any woman he’d ever met, but after she said that, he suspected he could love her.