Tears Of Pride. Lisa Jackson
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you could be easy prey for the likes of Ben Wilder.”
“I guess I don’t understand what you’re suggesting.”
“Don’t you realize how many marginal businesses have fallen victim to Wilder Investments this year alone? There was a shipping firm in Seattle, a theater group in Spokane and a salmon cannery in British Columbia.”
“Do you really believe that the Wilder family wants Cascade Valley?” Sheila asked, unable to hide her skepticism.
“Why not? Sure, in the last few years Cascade has had its trouble, but it’s still the largest and most prestigious winery in the Northwest. No one, even with the power and money of Ben Wilder, could find a better location for a vineyard.” Jonas rubbed his upper lip and pushed aside the moisture that had accumulated on it. “Your father might not have been much of a businessman, Sheila, but he did know how to bottle and ferment the best wine in the state.”
Sheila leveled her gaze at Jonas’s worried face. “Are you implying that Wilder Investments might be responsible for the fire?”
“Of course not…at least I don’t think so. But regardless of who started the blaze, the fact stands that Wilder Investments is the only party who gained from it. Ben Wilder won’t pass up a golden opportunity when it’s offered him.”
“And you think the winery is that opportunity.”
“You’d better believe it.”
“What do you think he’ll do?”
Jonas thought for a moment. “Approach you, unless I miss my guess.” He rubbed his chin. “I’d venture to say that Ben will want to buy out what little equity you have left. You have to realize that between the first and second mortgages on the property, along with the note to Wilder Investments, you own very little of the winery.”
“And you don’t think I should sell out?”
“I didn’t say that. Just be careful. Make sure you talk to me first. I’d hate to see you fleeced by Ben Wilder, or his son.”
Sheila’s face became a mask of grim determination. “Don’t worry, Jonas. I intend to face Ben Wilder, or his son, and I plan to hang on to Cascade Valley. It’s all Emily and I have left.”
CHAPTER TWO
THE DOOR TO BEN’S OFFICE swung open, and although Noah didn’t look up, his frown deepened. He tried to hide his annoyance and pulled his gaze from the thick pile of correspondence he had been studying. It was from a recently acquired shipping firm, and some of the most important documents were missing. “Yes,” he called out sharply when he felt, rather than saw, his father’s secretary enter the room. He looked up, softening the severity of his gaze with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Noah, but there’s a call for you on line one,” Maggie said. Over the past few months she’d become accustomed to Noah’s foul moods, provoked by his father’s business decisions.
“I’m busy right now, Maggie. Couldn’t you take a message?” He turned his attention back to the stack of paperwork cluttering the desk. Maggie remained in the room.
“I know you’re busy,” she assured him, “but Miss Lindstrom is the woman waiting to speak with you.”
“Lindstrom?” Noah repeated, tossing the vaguely familiar name over in his mind. “Is she supposed to mean something to me?”
“She’s Oliver Lindstrom’s daughter. He died in that fire a few weeks ago.”
The lines of concentration furrowing Noah’s brow deepened. He rubbed his hands through the thick, dark brown hair that curled above his ears. “She’s the woman who keeps insisting I release some insurance money to her, isn’t she?”
Maggie nodded curtly. “The same.”
All of Noah’s attention was turned to the secretary, and his deep blue eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Lindstrom died in the fire, and according to the reports, arson is suspected. Do you suppose that Lindstrom set the fire and inadvertently got trapped in it?” Without waiting for a response from Maggie, Noah reached for the insurance report on the fire. His eyes skimmed it while he posed another question to the secretary. “Didn’t I write to this Lindstrom woman and explain our position?”
“You did.”
“And what did I say? Wasn’t it a phony excuse to buy time until the insurance investigation is complete?” He rubbed his temple as he concentrated. “Now I remember…I told her that everything had to wait until Ben returned.”
“That’s right.” Maggie pursed her lips in impatience. She knew that Noah had complete power over any business decision at Wilder Investments, at least until Ben returned from Mexico.
“Then why is she calling me again?” Noah asked crossly. That fire had already cost him several long nights at the office, and the thought of spending more time on it frustrated him. Until the insurance report was complete, there wasn’t much he could do.
Maggie’s voice was tiredly patient. She had become familiar with Noah’s vehement expressions of disgust with his father’s business. The insurance problem at the winery seemed to be of particular irritation to him. “I don’t know why she’s calling you, Noah, but you might speak to her. This is the fifth time she’s called this afternoon.”
Guiltily, Noah observed the tidy pile of telephone messages sitting neglected on the corner of his desk. Until this moment he had ignored them, hoping that the tiny pink slips of paper might somehow disappear.
“All right, Maggie,” he conceded reluctantly. “You win. I’ll talk to—”
“Miss Lindstrom,” the retreating secretary provided.
In a voice that disguised all of his irritation, he answered the phone. “This is Noah Wilder. Is there something I can do for you?”
Sheila had been waiting on the phone for over five minutes. She was just about to hang up when Ben Wilder’s son finally decided to give her a little portion of his precious time. Repressing the urge to slam the receiver down, she held her temper in tight rein and countered his smooth question with only a hint of sarcasm. “I certainly hope so—if it’s not too much to ask. I’d like to make an appointment with you, but your secretary has informed me you’re much too busy to see me. Is that correct?”
There was something in the seething agitation crackling through the wires that interested Noah. Since assuming his father’s duties temporarily last month, no one had even hinted at disagreeing with him. Not that Noah hadn’t had his share of problems with Wilder Investments, but he hadn’t clashed with anyone. It was almost as if the power Ben had wielded so mightily had passed to Noah and none of Ben’s business associates had breathed a word of opposition to Ben’s son. Until now. Noah sensed that Miss Lindstrom was about to change all of that.
“On the contrary, Miss Lindstrom. I’d be glad to meet with you, but we’ll have to make it sometime after next week. Unfortunately, Maggie’s right. I’m booked solid for the next week and a half.”
“I can’t wait that long!” Sheila cried, her thin patience snapping.
Her response surprised Noah. “What exactly is the problem? Didn’t you get the letter I sent?”
“That’s precisely why I’m calling. I really do have to see you. It’s important!”
“You’re hoping that I’ll reverse my decision, I suppose?” Noah guessed, wondering at the woman’s tenacity. He thumbed through his phone messages. Maggie was right. Sheila Lindstrom had called every hour on the hour for the past five.
“You’ve got to! If we hope to rebuild the winery and have it ready for this season’s harvest, we’ve got to get started as soon as possible. Even then, we might not make it—”