She exhaled heavily and slid down onto the arm of the chair. It seemed that she’d run out of steam. “There. That’s it. Are you happy now?”
“At least I’m hearing the truth for once.”
She looked up and made a face at him. He almost laughed, but couldn’t. She’d expended all her energy trying to finagle a deal with him and she just didn’t have it in her. She might well be the worst negotiator he’d ever dealt with. And for some damn reason, he found it endearing.
For his own self-preservation, he’d have to get over that feeling fast.
“Where did all your money go?” he asked. “You must’ve gotten a hefty settlement from your rich husband.” He gave her a slow up-and-down look, taking in her faded jeans and worn jacket. “It’s obvious you didn’t spend it all on shoes.”
“Very funny,” she muttered, and followed his gaze down to her ratty old boots. After a long moment, she looked up at him. “I know what you must think of me personally, but I’m too close to the edge to care. I just need a loan. Can you help me or not?”
“What’s the money for?” he asked.
She pressed her lips together in a stubborn line, then sighed. “I need to expand my business.”
“If you’re selling me all your formulas, you won’t have a business left.”
“I can always come up with new recipes. My Taylor James brand is going strong, growing more profitable every day. And my new Redhead line is popular, too.”
“Then what’s the money for?” he asked again, slowly, deliberately.
“I need to upgrade my equipment. I need to hire some help. I need to develop a sales force.” She sighed and stared at her hands. “I need to make enough money to take care of my grandfather.”
He frowned. “You mentioned Angus earlier. Is something wrong with him?”
It was as if all the air fled from her lungs. Her shoulders slumped and God help him, he thought he saw a glimmer of tears in her beautiful brown eyes.
“He’s been to the hospital twice now. It’s his heart. I’m so worried about him. He runs out of breath so easily these days, but he refuses to give up his goats. Or his scotch.”
“Some things are sacred to a man.”
“Goats and scotch.” She rolled her eyes. “He insists that he’s hale and hearty, but I know it’s not true. I’m scared, Connor.” She ran one hand through her hair, pushing it back from her face. “He needs medication. They have a new drug that would be perfect for someone in his condition, but we found out it’s considered experimental. The insurance won’t cover it and it’s too expensive for me to pay for it.”
Connor frowned. This wasn’t good news. Angus Campbell was one of the sweetest old guys he’d ever known. Connor and his brothers were first inspired to make their own beer while watching Angus at work in the Campbell family pub. That brew pub had been on Main Street in Point Cairn for as long as Connor could remember. Growing up, he and his brothers had all worked there during the summer months.
Then five years ago, Angus lost his beloved wife, Doreen. That’s when Maggie’s mom sold the pub to the MacLaren brothers. Angus insisted that she move to Florida to live with her sister, something she’d been talking about for years. But that left Angus alone with his goat farm, though he got occasional help from the neighborhood boys. This had all happened during the time Maggie was living back east with her rich husband.