Big Man's Bride (Big Men Small Towns 1)

Okay, get yourself together, Ally. Make the damn phone call and get on with this part of your life already.

Janet picks up on the third ring. “Hillshire Realty. This is Janet.”

“Hey, Janet,” I say, trying and failing to keep my voice steady. “This is Allison Hollis. How are you?”

“Oh,” she says, “I’m fine.”

Usually when I call she laughs when she here’s my voice and automatically tells me that the price is still the same as the last time I called. She’s come to expect my calls and the same inquiry every time. That’s been the routine for years, and the fact that she doesn’t do that immediately sends fear down my spine.

It’s okay. Nothing’s happened yet. Maybe she’s just having a bad day. Maybe she wasn’t expecting to hear from me again. After all, it has been a while.

“I’m actually calling with good news,” I say. “I’ve put together the money for the down payment on the Cumberland River house. My pre-approval went through and I had it sent to your office, so we can now move forward with the purchase. I know it’s been a long time coming,” I laugh, “but at least you won’t be getting weekly phone calls from me anymore.”

There’s a long pause, and the silence between us is one of the loudest sounds that I’ve ever heard in my life. What’s going on? Janet has actually been in my corner for a lot of this process, encouraging me that it was possible and being super gracious about my pestering. I kind of thought that she would be celebrating with me right now.

Then she sighs. “I’m really sorry, Ally. The house sold a week ago. It was an offer well above market, and all cash. I know you wanted it, but I couldn’t hold the property for you since I had no idea when you’d have the money.”

My heart drops through the floor and keeps going. It falls through the center of the fucking earth. “What?”

“I’m sorry. I know you dreamed about buying it back one day. If I’d known how close you were to having the money. . .” she trails off. “I mean, Ally, it’s been so long. I had no idea you were so serious.”

She had to have known, right? I’d been calling her every month. But our conversations hadn’t revolved around my progress. They’d revolved around the price of the house and the fact that it was still available. From her perspective, this was all just a pipe dream for me.

Oh my God.

“Who bought it?” My voice is hollow. I can hear how devastated I sound even if I don’t think the news has fully hit me yet.

“I can’t give you his details and contact information, obviously, but he’s from New York. It’s a developer interested in the property.”

I swear out loud even though it isn’t professional. In the years since I started saving, I’ve become really knowledgeable about the Tennessee real estate market, and big developers from places like New York and even China are buying up more and more of the beautiful properties here. Mostly with the intent to turn them into luxury condos or modern vacation homes that no one would be able to afford.

It had made me sick to think about, but I never thought that it would directly affect me. How naïve. Grandpa’s old property is massive. Of course a developer went ahead and bought it.

I can’t give up. Maybe there is something I can still do. This has been my dream for so long. I’m not giving up on it simply because some asshole from a big city saw a shiny penny and a chance to make a quick buck. Grandpa deserves to spend his final years in the Cumberland River house, and no one is going to stop me. “When does he take possession of the property?”

“He landed in Tennessee the other day, Ally. He’s already there. Again, I’m sorry.”

That’s all I need to know. “Thanks, Janet.”

“Allison, I—”

I hang up the phone before I can hear her urging me not to go out there and talk to him. She’d be wasting her breath because I’ve already made that decision, and it’s better for her if she doesn’t know that I’m actually planning on going.

Not that I plan on committing a crime. Or do I?

I honestly don’t know what I’m planning. All I’m certain of is that I’m driving out to the house right this fucking second to see this man and ask him why the hell he feels he has the right to swoop in and steal something from someone else’s history.

As I grab my things and get in my car, I’m well aware that the thoughts I’m having aren’t entirely rational. But I also know that if I give in to my real thoughts, I’ll be a sobbing mess on the floor, and I don’t want that.