Page 2 of Chasing the Sun
We shook, and he thumped me on the back. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Stan’s property butted up to the parcel of land that Drifted Spirit Inn was on. Long ago, the Victorian and the adjacent farm had been part of the same parcel of land. Over time, pieces had been divided and my acreage split from the rolling hills and dune-lined cliffs of Star Harbor Farm.
At one time, Stan’s farm was at the center of the Star Harbor community. It had once been a highlight for passing tourists, but in his old age, the farm had fallen into disrepair. The fields that once held abundant crops were overgrown with weeds and wild grasses. The apple orchard’s scraggly trees looked more like something out of a horror movie than a place where produce thrived.
It was a mess, but that didn’t stop Stan from walking his property every single day.
“I was looking for Levi. I thought he might have snuck out here this morning,” I said, stuffing my hands into my pockets.
Stan shook his head. “Kids will be kids.Plenty from town seem to find their way out here and have a bonfire or two, sneak a few beers, and maybe even sweet-talk a pretty girl into a kiss.”
I shook my head and groaned. “He’s fourteen, Stan.”
Stan chuckled and patted my back. “You’re in the thick of it now.”
I stretched my neck, looking out onto the vast property that was once Star Harbor Farm. It was sprawling, and its gentle rolling hills led to an impressive dune cliff to the west. Soft waves of Lake Michigan glittered in the morning light.
“That leg okay?” Stan asked, pointing to the boot that had created a new hole in his front porch.
I nodded. “It’ll be all right.” I glanced at the old man. He was the only millionaire I knew who still wore threadbare denim and a Pioneer Seed hat from 1972. “You know, I could help clean up the place. Last thing you need is a tourist wandering around chasing ghost stories to get hurt.”
I walked alongside Stan as he continued his morning route that ran along the fence line where our properties met. I had replaced the old chain-link fence with stylish cedar posts and rails last spring.
Stan met my pace, step for step. “It was a lot easier to keep up when I wasn’t going it alone. When Karen passed ...” He blew out a breath at the mention of his late wife, looking out across the property. The couple never had children, so when she passed, he was truly on his own. “Guess I just didn’t really see the point anymore.”
His words hit harder than they should have. I knew what it was like to lose the thing that made a place feel like home. To let something die with the person who’d kept it alive. Hell, I was never supposed to be here running an inn.That was my late wife Mary’s dream. I was just ... keeping it together.
Barely.
Stan’s wife, Karen, had been a kind and gentle woman, always smiling and laughing. She was the heart of Star Harbor Farm, and without her, Stan had spent the last few years alone, living at their main residence and letting the farm die alongside her.
“I could help,” I offered. “Patch things up and mow the grass ...”
He eyed me. “You have the free time?”
Fuck no.
I was up to my neck in my own projects, but I didn’t have the heart to tell Stan that his neglected property was starting to negatively affect my business. Recent reviews reflected the poorly maintained neighboring farm. It was an eyesore, and plenty of people assumed the sprawling land was a part of Drifted Spirit Inn.
My silence stretched and Stan shook his head. “That’s what I thought.” Stan’s eyes went wistful as morning sun slanted over his shoulder, highlighting the deep lines on his face. “Some days I’m ready for it all to be over,” Stan said, exhaling as he looked out over the fields.
I blinked at the old man.Ready for it to be over?
He’d said it before, in passing—I’m too old for this. Guess it’s about time to think about letting it go. It could be yours if you wanted it.Hell, I wasn’t even sure when he’d started saying it, but Stan letting go of the farmland had been in the back of my mind for years. I’d never been interested in farming, but the land? The space? That was interesting.
Maybe it was finally time to make somethinghappen.
My jaw clenched as we walked in silence, and the possibilities rolled around in my head.
Taking time to fix his property would be stupid. Reckless. Just another thing to add to my already overloaded plate.
But buying it from him? Claiming this land as my own?
There was no denying that land itself could be useful. I could clear out the brush, renovate the barns, and create more guest spaces. Expand the Drifted Spirit beyond the main house and give visitors a full Star Harbor experience—fresh air, walking trails, maybe even a farm-to-table restaurant. If I played this right, I wouldn’t just be running the best inn in town, I’d be running a destination—a legacy for Levi instead of another thing left to rot.
I could finally open my own restaurant.
That felt more like my dream than simply running a glorified bed-and-breakfast.
