Page 9 of Finding Home

“In case you have questions about the area,” she explained. “Or if you just need someone to talk to who won’t spread your business across town. My husband Frank is a good listener, too.”

Cole tucked the receipt into his wallet. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

As he left the bookstore with a stack of books in his arms, he paused under the veranda.

When he’d first arrived in town, he’d noticed all the changes that had happened since he’d last been here. New paint, lighting, and baskets of colorful flowers added to Main Street’s old-fashioned charm. But those changes were only cosmetic.

What struck him most was how people moved through town. No one rushed. The woman coming out of the post office stopped to chat with someone sweeping the sidewalk in front of a gift store. Two men leaned against a pickup truck, talking with the easy rhythm of old friends who had nowhere else they needed to be. Everyone greeted each other by name, not with the practiced politeness of business acquaintances, but with genuine warmth.

Cole couldn’t remember the last time he’d walked down a street without checking his phone or thinking about his next meeting. His whole adult life had been measured in project timelines and quarterly reports, in how quickly he could move from one build to the next. Standing here on Main Street and listening to genuine laughter drift from Sweet Treats, he felt something unfamiliar settle in his chest.

It almost felt like peace.

He thought about his grandfather’s cabin, about summer evenings when the only issue was whether to fish before or after dinner. He’d spent decades building beautiful spaces for other people to call home, never quite understanding what that word truly meant.

Maybe Isabel was right. Maybe Sapphire Bay was the right place to learn.

Chapter 6

Julie smiled as her coffee cup was refilled for the third time. With her laptop in front of her, she was grateful the staff at The Lakeside Grill didn’t mind her being here. For the last hour, she’d been filling out application forms and searching the Internet for any jobs in the area.

She double-checked the job description for a position with the Lake County Leader. It was the main newspaper in Polson, and jobs rarely became available. With her experience, she should stand a good chance of being interviewed. But she’d missed out on other positions, so she wasn’t getting excited.

As she submitted her application, she crossed her fingers. Julie was trying to be positive, she really was. But it wasn’t easy looking for a job. Every position either wanted someone with advanced digital skills or with established connections she no longer possessed.

The restaurant door opened, letting in a gust of evening air. Julie glanced up out of habit and recognized Cole Morrison. He was wearing jeans and a casual button-down shirt instead of the suit he’d worn for the community meeting. But he still carried himself with the same careful posture that set him apart from most of the people in town.

He approached the counter, looking as though he was planning a quick getaway.

Julie closed her laptop before talking herself out of what she was about to do. The resort intrigued her, and there was only one person who could answer her questions.

She walked over as Cole was studying the menu board above the register. “Mr. Morrison?” She kept her voice friendly but professional. “I’m Julie Harrison. We met briefly at the community meeting.”

Recognition dawned in his eyes. “Of course. Please, call me Cole.” He shook her hand with the same firm grip she remembered. “How are you settling into Sapphire Bay?”

“I’m still unpacking a few boxes and forgetting where I’ve put everything,” Julie admitted. “Are you here for dinner?”

“I was planning to grab something to go.” He gestured toward the menu. “I’ve had a long day at the construction site.”

Julie hesitated for only a second. “You’re welcome to join me if you like. It’s better than eating alone.”

Cole seemed surprised, but something in his face softened. “That’s kind of you. I’d like that.”

They returned to Julie’s table by the window. Cole ordered the grilled salmon while Julie chose the burger she’d been thinking about getting earlier.

“So,” Julie said once they’d settled in, “how does the resort at Finley Point compare to your other projects? You said you’ve built resorts all over the country.”

“It’s a lot different.” Cole leaned back in his chair, seeming to genuinely consider the question rather than offering a rehearsed answer. “Most of my previous work involved transforming existing properties or building in established resort areas. This is the first time I’ve developed something from raw land in a community this small.”

“That must make the project more complex.” Julie’s journalist instincts were kicking into gear despite herself. “There must be more stakeholders to consider.”

Cole smiled. “There are. In Jackson Hole or Park City, you’re working within an existing tourism infrastructure. Here, every decision ripples through the community. Do you remember the traffic study I mentioned at the meeting? In a larger town, that would be routine. Here, it matters whether Mr. Anderson’s gas station loses business during construction.”

Their food arrived and Julie took a bite of her burger. It was just as delicious as Jenny said it was. “What made you want to tackle something this involved as your final project?”

Cole cut into his salmon. “I’m tired of building places that could be anywhere. Beautiful, yes. Functional, absolutely. But they’re all interchangeable. I wanted to create something that belongs to this landscape and community.”

Julie remembered the images of the resort and sighed. “It’s an ambitious project.”