Susannah's Garden (Blossom Street #3)(30)
“Do you have any regrets?”
Vivian smiled. “Not even one. Everyone makes choices in life, Susannah. Your father earned a good living, and we were fortunate that I didn’t need to work. I saw it as a blessing—and I still do. I volunteered at the blood bank, you know, and I was able to work in my garden.”
Susannah wasn’t so sure blessing was the appropriate word.
“Your father and I were partners. You were always so eager to paint him as a villain and, my dear, he was never that. George was a good man, a loving husband, a wonderful father.”
Susannah swallowed her arguments. The family was fortunate that Vivian could be home for them all. If she’d ever felt cheated about not going into nursing, it had never showed. But Susannah felt cheated for her, and the opportunity she’d lost.
CHAPTER 11
The afternoon was cool and breezy as Carolyn arrived back at the mill, parking in her assigned spot. She’d attended a very successful meeting in Spokane with a buyer from a major hardware chain, and all that remained now was finishing up the relevant paperwork.
Her long single braid stretched halfway down her back, swaying as she walked. She wore an unaccustomed suit, a plain navy one with a straight skirt and classically styled jacket. With her white shirt and flat black pumps, Carolyn’s “go to meeting” outfit was complete. She couldn’t wait to peel off the panty hose. Since she never had any idea what to do with her hair, she’d left it in its usual braid. She could only imagine what her fashionable mother would think if she could see her now. When it came to the feminine arts, Carolyn had failed miserably. The second she got to her office, she changed into jeans, boots and a cotton shirt.
Gloria, her personal assistant, had obviously left early for some reason. That was fine, since she put in whatever hours the job—and Carolyn—required.
As soon as Carolyn finished with the paperwork, she planned to head home herself, since she had company coming for dinner. Inviting Susannah, Sandy, Lisa and Yvette to the house was a giant leap into the public sphere for her. Carolyn had never socialized much; because of her position as Colville’s main employer, it was risky. Her father had often cautioned her about getting too close to any one family. Still, none of those women was associated with the mill in any way.
With her responsibility to the business always in mind, she’d kept mostly to herself since her return, forgoing friendships. At times she was lonely, but a sense of duty had been bred into her. She didn’t resent her position; she took it seriously. This mill contributed significantly to the local economy, which meant the decisions she made affected the town as a whole.
Paperwork done, Carolyn walked into the yard, where the lumber was stacked ten feet high. Sprinklers continually kept the wood wet and cool. A fire could do massive damage, and every measure was taken to protect the raw lumber. The year before, she’d purchased a new lumber stacker for the cut wood, one that minimized operating costs. With new machinery in place, including the stacker, her goal was to produce approximately 50,000 cubic meters of quality lumber annually. No small goal, but she’d set her sights on that figure and had everything she needed to make it a reality.
When he saw her, Carolyn’s plant manager, Jim Reynolds, hurried toward her with a clipboard in his hand. She relied on Jim, who was directly below her in the chain of command. He was much more than her manager; he was her right-hand man, with a drive and ambition that matched her own. Thanks to his years of working at the mill, the men respected his judgment—and respected him. Carolyn didn’t make a move without consulting Jim first.
Ten years younger than Carolyn, he was tall, muscular and tanned from all the time he’d spent outside. He was happily married and had three kids, two of whom were about to enter college. Jim was a dedicated, honorable man. Carolyn was grateful that he worked for her and paid him a salary that was commensurate with his value to the business.
“How’d the meeting go?” Jim asked as he approached.
“We have a deal.”
“Hey!” Jim nodded approvingly, giving her a thumbs-up. “Congratulations.”
Jim knew as well as she did that this new plywood order would carry them through the summer. It was the first time Carolyn had cracked this hardware chain. She started to relate the details when he interrupted.
“We nearly lost Grady Simpson this afternoon.”
“What happened?” Carolyn was instantly concerned. Grady had worked at the mill when her father was still alive. He was close to retirement age and had always been a solid employee.
“Heart attack.”
“Is he going to be all right?”
“Looks like it.”
Relief flowed through Carolyn.
“But he would’ve been a goner if it wasn’t for the quick thinking of that guy who does the landscaping.”
Carolyn knew he worked for Kettle Falls Landscaping, the company she hired for the upkeep of the gardens here and her yard at home. She’d used them for the past three years and they’d done an adequate job. She’d never had any complaints, but the new gardener, who’d started about four months ago, was exceptional. He was conscientious, hardworking and punctual; equally important, he understood plants. No one had done a better job on her yard than Dave Langevin. He’d impressed her enough for Carolyn to ask his name.
“You’d better begin at the beginning,” she said.