Page 49 of Finding Home

Julie sighed. “His name is Cole Morrison. He’s wanting to build a resort at an area twenty minutes out of town called Finley Point. He’s sixty-four.” She watched their faces. “He grew up moving constantly, never staying in one place for long. This time, he’s going to stay in Sapphire Bay.”

“And?” Meg asked.

“And he’s one of the most straightforward people I’ve ever met. He says what he means and has a heart of gold.” Julie frowned. “He had a health scare recently. He’s all right, but it mattered to me. More than I was expecting.”

Neither of her children filled the pause that followed.

“He sounds like someone worth knowing,” Daniel said at last.

“He is,” Julie said. “You’ll like him.”

Meg smiled. “I’m already looking forward to meeting him.”

They kept talking for another half hour, about nothing and everything. Meg told them more about her new apartment, the restaurant she’d gone to with Daniel for his birthday, and a film they’d both seen and disagreed about. Daniel talked about his daughter. Nellie was the apple of his eyes and looked like a miniature Maddie.

They were ordinary things. The kind that fills the space between the important issues and the things that make life complete.

When the call ended, the screen went dark, and the cottage was quiet.

Julie sat at the kitchen table, thinking about what Meg and Daniel had said. She hadn’t expected their forgiveness or their understanding, but it was there all the same.

She picked up her phone, then put it back on the table.

Normally, she would have called Cole. She would have told him about talking to Meg and Daniel, and the Christmas visit she was already looking forward to. But Cole needed to rest. A phone call at this time of the night was the last thing he needed.

She’d see him tomorrow, tell him about today, then look for her Christmas decorations.

Chapter 31

Cole hadn’t flown anywhere for so long that it was almost a novelty. The flight from Kalispell to Denver was two hours, and he spent most of it looking through the window at the high plains, brown and flat below them, thinking about what he would say.

Noah was in the seat beside him reading something on his tablet. He hadn’t asked Cole whether he was up to meeting with their investors. For that, Cole was extremely grateful.

Jensen’s office was in lower downtown Denver, twelve floors up in a building with a lot of glass and not much warmth. Cole had been there twice before. Once when they were putting the deal together and another visit when the first permits came through. Both times he’d sat across from Jensen feeling like a man who had earned the right to be in the room.

He felt the same way now. Possibly more so.

Jensen’s assistant showed them in at two o’clock exactly. Jensen was already standing.

There were three other men in the room. Cole recognized one of them as Dwight Farris, a Denver attorney who sat on two of Jensen’s investment boards. The other man was Chris Farrow, an investor who’d made a fortune in Bitcoin. The other man was a mystery.

“Cole.” Jensen shook his hand. “You look better than I expected.”

“The bar was low,” Cole said.

Jensen almost smiled. He shook Noah’s hand and motioned toward the other men in the room. “I believe you know Dwight, and Chris. Beside them is Tim Bathhurst. He’s an investment banker here in Denver. Sit down and tell us everything.”

Cole and Noah sat down and told him everything.

Cole started with the planning office complaints: the shell company, the anonymous submissions, and the way the process had been used as a tool rather than a safeguard. Noah told them about Pete Sawyer and the northern boundary, and about the financial leverage Marcus Harmon had held over him.

After Noah had finished, Cole discussed the county review, and the articles Julie was preparing to write—what those articles would say and what they wouldn’t.

Cole and Noah had spoken the day before about how they’d approach the meeting. They’d decided not to soften anything. None of the men in the meeting had gotten where they were with platitudes and false promises.

For that reason, Cole didn’t rush past the parts that made him look slow to act or stubborn about asking for help. He’d decided on the flight up that the only version of this meeting that could end well was the honest one.

When he finished, nobody spoke.