“I truly love that little girl, Hud. She’s so smart and sweet, and bright. And she’s funny.”
“That she is. She really does remind us all of Jossy when she was younger. My sister is quick to assure me that Cricket will be more of a handful than she ever was.”
Emery nodded. “I’m sure she will be. Was her mother like that? Lively and bright?”
Hud shook his head. “No. Bethany was beautiful. That was her thing. She spent many, many hours working on her appearance every single day. I had no idea before we married what she was really like. I just thought her Barbie-doll looks came naturally. That should tell you how stupid I was about women. Bethany took one look at the ranch, snarled up her nose, and decided she wanted us to move to one of the resorts her parents owned. Of course, I refused. My grandfather hadn’t been gone long, and Grammy needed me here. I needed to be here. I always knew after college I’d come back to the ranch to work. Bethany never understood how important Summer Creek is to me.”
“Did she leave then?”
“No,” Hud sighed. “She stuck around just long enough to get pregnant. When she found out she was expecting, she hightailed it back to her parents, claiming she needed her mother to take care of her. Bethany didn’t have morning sickness or anything like that. She just didn’t want to be here. Once she left, she never returned to the ranch. When it was time for Cricket to make her arrival, I went and stayed with Bethany’s family in Seattle. Bethany had no interest in the baby. None at all. Neither did her parents. So I brought Cricket back here to Summer Creek. Grammy and Jossy have helped me raise her from the start. Bethany and I were in the midst of filing for a divorce when she died in a boating accident in Belize. When I attended the funeral, her parents blamed me, even though Bethany was there with her latest boyfriend. Her folks told me they never wanted to see me or my child again, and they haven’t.”
“Oh, Hud.” Emery reached out and squeezed his hand a second time.
He glanced across the table to find her eyes swimming in unshed tears. “Someday Cricket will want to know the truth, and I’ll tell her. Until then, all she knows is that her mother passed away.”
“That’s all she needs to know. Besides, Cricket is a lucky girl to have so many people in her life who love her so much.”
“We’re pretty lucky to have her.” The server appeared with their meals, so Hud released Emery’s hand, although the tingle from the contact lingered on his skin. The pull between them, the magnetic spark, seemed to grow stronger with each second he spent in her presence.
“Can I get one of those, Dani?” Hud asked the server before she left, pointing to Emery’s glass.
“Coming right up, Hud.”
Emery studied him a moment, like she wanted to say something, before she turned her attention to her food. Hud had ordered a wood-fired pizza covered in meat and dripping melted cheese, while Emery had opted for the chef’s special which turned out to be marinated chicken with handmade pasta and steamed vegetables.
The woman looked like she’d died and gone to heaven as she took the first bite. Hud hid his grin behind a bite of pizza. After dinner, he wasn’t in a hurry to leave, and Emery didn’t seem to be either.
“When you came home, you looked excited about something. Last night, you mentioned you had an idea. Is it for your community service hours?”
Emery’s eyes began to sparkle. “Not exactly, but it could be, I suppose. Everyone talks about the need to bring tourists to town. To get them to drive through here on the way to the mountains, which really isn’t out of their way since the road winds back around to the highway. I know you get just enough tourism in the summer to keep Summer Creek from shriveling up, but there has to be a way to get more of them to come into town.” She took a breath and smiled at him. “I love the old buildings here in Summer Creek. They are unique and interesting, and I think other people would like to see them, too. We just need to give them a reason to want to stop. What if we put up a sign out by the highway advertising a walk through history and opened up the old buildings for tours?”
Right off the top of his head, Hud could think of a dozen reasons why her plan wouldn’t work, the most prevalent being the condition of the buildings. Some of them hadn’t been touched in decades. He had no idea who even owned the buildings now, except for the one where Parker rented space for his guide service office. But the look of enthusiasm and passion for the project on Emery’s face kept him from speaking his thoughts.
Instead, he smiled at her and said, “Tell me what you have in mind.”
Two hours later, Hud opened the back door and flicked on the light in the mudroom. Emery walked past him, and the fragrance of her perfume floated around him, sending his pulse skittering.
She stopped at the base of the back stairs and leaned against the wall, looking far too attractive for Hud’s exhausted brain. Everything about her appealed to him, from her glistening golden hair, elegant style, and gorgeous smile to her beautiful blue eyes that watched him with a mixture of curiosity and interest.
Although he’d teased Emery earlier about getting inebriated on her syrupy soda concoction, he was the one who felt drunk. Drunk on emotions that he really didn’t want to acknowledge, even if they were getting harder and harder to ignore.
Hud’s gaze traveled over her face again, landing on a little scar in the center of her forehead. He reached out and traced his index finger over the spot. “How’d you get that?”
Emery rolled her eyes upward, as though she tried to see the spot he touched. “When I was sixteen, Dad grounded me for driving too fast and being smart-mouthed about it when I got caught. There was a party I wanted to go to, so I decided to sneak out of my bedroom. It was on the second floor. I managed to make it most of the way down the tree outside my window before I fell. I hit a sharp rock when I landed, and it made a deep cut there. Mom yelled at dad for three days about it being his fault. He added two weeks to my punishment despite her protests that I’d break my neck or kill myself the next time I tried to sneak out.”
Hud brushed over the spot again, then let his fingers trail over her smooth cheek before he cupped her chin and lifted it until their gazes collided. “Did you? Sneak out again?”
Emery smiled. “I can’t tell you all my secrets on our first non-date, Mr. Cole.”
“Might I assume when you refer to it as a first non-date, you’d like there to be a second?” Regardless of what they called it, he enjoyed spending time with her and hoped to do it again.
“You may assume whatever you like.” She offered him a cool, indifferent shrug and feigned disinterest just long enough for him to consider if she was serious. Then she broke into a broad smile. “I had a wonderful time, Hud. It was nice to hang out and get to know you better.”
“I enjoyed it, too, Emery.”
When she moistened her lips, he lost the ability to resist the temptation of kissing her. His arms wrapped around her and he pulled her closer to him. Every nerve in his body hummed with energy, singularly attuned to this woman.
Slowly, his head dropped toward hers. He watched her eyelids drift shut, her lashes fanning her cheeks while her alluring, feminine scent tantalized him. The warmth of her breath caressed his neck, further captivating him.
Prepared for the jolt he was sure would shoot through him the second their lips touched, his mouth hovered above hers for the length of a heartbeat, and then he heard bells.
Emery jerked back, and the bells rang again.
“It’s the doorbell,” she said, sidestepping around him.
Lost in the fog of his longing, it took him a moment to gather his wits and follow her down the hall to the front door.
Emery opened it to reveal Cricket on the front step with her friend’s father.
“I tried to call earlier, but no one answered,” Steve Park said, handing Cricket’s overnight bag to Hud. “The girls fell asleep, but I think Cricket had a bad dream. When she woke up, she wanted to come home.”
“It’s no
problem, Steve. Thank you for bringing her home.” Hud started to pick up his daughter, but she ran straight to Emery.
Somewhat disturbed that she again chose Emery over him, Hud hid his disappointment behind a smile and shook Steve’s hand. “Have a good weekend.”
“I will. You do the same.” The man looked from him to Emery. “Hope I wasn’t interrupting anything.”
“Not a thing.” Hud glowered at him. “Thanks again. Good night.”
Before Steve could further comment about anything going on between him and Emery, he closed the door and watched the woman who was rapidly capturing his heart carry his beloved daughter to her room.
The situation with Emery was complicated enough without him admitting how much he was coming to care about her. The last thing he needed was to take their relationship from friends to something more in the time she had left before she finished her community service hours and headed back to Portland.
Somehow, he just needed to convince his heart what his head knew to be the right thing to do.
Chapter Nineteen
“What did that say?”
Mayor Kane glanced up from the book of old records he thumbed through as he sat across the table from Emery at the county clerk’s office in Burns.
“If the property taxes due are greater than the value of the property, then the property reverts to the county, and the taxes are exempted.” Emery sat back in her chair and glanced from the mayor to the county clerk. “So that means all those buildings in Summer Creek have become the property of the county. Is that correct?”
“So it would seem, Miss Brighton,” the clerk said, reading the information for himself. “This document is straightforward.”
“What will the county do with those buildings? They need extensive repairs before they’re even fit to set foot in.” Mitch studied the clerk. “They wouldn’t auction them off, would they?”
“Most likely not, considering the location and condition.” The clerk sighed. “The last thing we need is the burden of those old albatrosses.”
The mayor closed the record book and set it back on a stack of others. “It seems to me the best plan would be for the county to deed those buildings back to Summer Creek.”
“I don’t think the county commissioners will go for that. They might be willing to sell them.”
“And I’d be willing to buy them,” the mayor said with his best politician’s smile. “How does five dollars sound?”
The clerk snorted. “Ridiculous. Now you’re just wasting my time.”
Emery had no interest in watching the mayor and the clerk engage in a power struggle. “When could we meet with the commissioners?” she asked.
“They’re holding a session in an hour, but you can’t just march in there.”
Quickly rising from the table, Emery fixed the clerk with a look she’d seen her father use dozens of times when he was trying to make a business deal that wasn’t going his way. “Add us to the agenda because this matter requires immediate attention. We’ll be back in an hour.”
Mitch hurried to catch up with her as she marched out of the room and down the hall. “Are you really planning to crash the commissioner’s meeting?”
“Yes, I am. But first, I’m calling my dad and uncle. They might have an idea or two about swaying the commissioners.” Emery pulled out the new cell phone her father had sent her. It arrived in Saturday’s mail, along with a note telling her he was proud of her and how hard she’d been working.
After speaking to her father and uncle, she jotted down several notes before they returned inside the courthouse. She stopped in the restroom to tidy her already neat appearance, then met the mayor at the door to the room where the commissioners were meeting.
“I believe in you, Emery. I think your plan is a good one.” The mayor offered her an encouraging smile as they walked into the room and took seats at the back.
Emery had half-expected Hud to laugh at her the other evening when she shared her dreams for Summer Creek. She wanted to put the town back on the map and bring in much needed revenue through tourism. If tourists came, more businesses would follow, and the town would grow instead of die. Emery was certain many people would enjoy seeing the old buildings in town, especially if they were fixed up, at least enough to do tours.
Hud had suggested she discuss her ideas with the mayor because Mitch would be all for them. He’d also told her the best place to find property records would be in Burns at the courthouse. Hud had been right on both counts. When Emery shared her thoughts with Mitch about bringing the town back to life through the old buildings, he’d been nearly as excited as she’d been when she had first landed on the idea. He’d insisted on driving to the courthouse that morning and Emery had happily accompanied him.
Now, she just needed to convince the county commissioners it was a good idea to turn the buildings back over to Summer Creek.
Witty and charming as she laid out her plans for the buildings, she hoped to sway the commissioners in her favor. When the men didn’t appear the least bit attentive to what she had to say, Mitch jumped into the conversation, tossing around his political weight which was next to nothing. Emery tried the approaches her dad and uncle suggested, but nothing seemed to work.
The sound of a growling stomach finally generated a little interest in the commissioners as they glanced at their watches.
One of the men eyed her. “What’s it going to take to get you two out of here so we can break for lunch?”
“Deed the buildings to Summer Creek.” Emery smiled sweetly at the men.
“Not going to happen,” one of the commissioners said, giving her a look like he thought her head was full of feathers.
“If you gentlemen aren’t willing to dispose of the buildings, you have to do something with them. Even demolition would cost more than they are currently worth. You want to deal with that expense?” Mitch stared at the man who appeared to be in charge. “Would you sell the buildings for a nominal fee?”
“Probably not,” said the commissioner with the growling stomach. He got to his feet and the other men rose, too.
Emery scrambled for something that would convince these men to deed over the building. Inspiration surged into her thoughts. “Would you sign over the buildings to the Summer Creek Historical Society if they purchased them for ten dollars each?”
“I wasn’t aware Summer Creek had a historical society. Is it new?” Growling Stomach asked.
“Recently established. Official paperwork will be drawn up soon, and the historical society is entirely non-profit.” Emery glanced at the mayor, hoping he’d go along with her off-the-cuff idea. “As the chair of the historical society, I’m prepared to offer you … ” She opened her handbag and dug out every penny she had with her, “one hundred forty-seven dollars and fifty-three cents for all the buildings the county currently owns in Summer Creek.”
“Sold!” One of the commissioners smacked his insulated coffee mug on the table in front of him like a gavel.
Emery gave the mayor a victory hug, then shook hands with the commissioners. She gave them the money, and they told her they’d have an attorney send over the necessary paperwork deeding the buildings to the historical society.
Outside, as they walked toward the mayor’s car, Emery realized she may have created issues by blurting out details about a historical society before they’d discussed it. “I hope I didn’t step on any toes, Mitch, but it struck me as we were speaking with the commissioners that Summer Creek will need an organization to be in charge of the buildings and tours. The historical society idea just rolled right off my tongue. I apologize if it puts you in a difficult position with the commissioners or anyone in Summer Creek.”
Mitch grinned at her and held open the door to his car. “No need to apologize, Emery. I have witnesses who heard you say you’re the chair of it which means I don’t have to add being in charge of those old buildings to my plate. You go ahead and form that historical society. You’ll need a board of
about five members, and I’ll volunteer to be one of them. We’ll need an attorney to draw up paperwork. We’ll also ask the attorney to review whatever the commissioners send over.”
“I’m so excited about this, about the possibilities,” Emery said as the mayor got in the car and started it. “And I was thinking once we have ownership of the buildings, we can submit applications to get them on the national registry of historical buildings.”
“That’s a fantastic idea,” Mitch said, pulling into the parking lot of a restaurant. “Since you just paid for all those old buildings, I’m buying lunch today.”
“That sounds great.”
Emery spent the next few days in a flurry of paperwork. Her father offered to pay for an attorney to help get the ball rolling and told her he’d send someone to Summer Creek soon.
In the meantime, Emery decided something had to be done about the deplorable cell and Wi-Fi service available in the area. Half the time, the school couldn’t connect their computers, and no one at the outlying ranches had dependable service. If a cell tower could be installed somewhere nearby, the whole community would benefit from it.
She dove into researching the possibility of rural grants and began sending in applications, with the mayor’s approval. She also wrote grants for the school for rural education, and even applied for a few to help with funding for much-needed equipment at the health clinic.
During the years she’d spent earning her business degree and studying everything from marketing to accounting, she’d never thought she’d put her education to use. Now that she was, she felt like she’d finally come into her own and found her purpose in life.
Everything that she’d worked on since the day Mrs. Finley had inspired the idea of capturing tourism through the history of the town had made her feel like she was doing something important, something that contributed to a bigger cause. And she loved it.
Catching the Cowboy: A Small-Town Clean Romance (Summer Creek Book 1) Page 19
