“I double majored.” I addressed Dad, who blanched. “Yes, I have a degree in graphic design, but I also hold one in Art Restoration and Conservation, specializing in the American West.” Because I’d known this day would come, eventually, where I’d have to step into Genevieve’s shoes if I wanted to ensure our town could survive.
I just figured that would happen in another twenty years, not twenty minutes. Genevieve clutched the arms of her chair like I might hop up there and unseat her from a throne I had zero interest in.
“And you’re just now telling me?” Dad seethed, despite the calm, collected tone of his voice. It wasn’t at the degree itself. He would have crowed his satisfaction had he been the one to introduce me into the role. He was pissed at the loss of control and my support of Cam.
Cam, who moved a few inches toward me, his arm brushing my shoulder and sending little currents of electricity through my veins.
“Dad, they said it as I walked across the stage at graduation. It was hardly a secret. Mom filmed it and everything.” Because he hadn’t been there, still holding a grudge because I’d had the nerve to deter from his plan.
The crowd murmured, but I kept my attention on Dad.
“I’m assuming you won’t have a problem with your own daughter lending her services to the Historical Society. It would hardly be charitable if I kept my mouth shut and let the town suffer for it.” Good thing I’d bought my house this year, or I’d probably be sleeping on Charity’s couch tonight. How quickly I disposed of all the goodwill I’d earned since coming home.
If he’d been a tomato before, he was now a giant maroon balloon, ready to pop.
“I’ll accept your expertise,” Walter declared, and my breath gushed in relief, my posture softening against Cam’s. “Camden, I’ll also accept the Rose Rowan Mining Company’s building as your historical building. Welcome to the society.”
“Now, his summer plan,” Dorothy leaned over me to say into the microphone, filling my nose with the scent of grape aerosol hairspray.
Battle won—now on to the war. Whatever it was.
“Cannot be put forth at this time.” Tim Hall’s gaze darted to my dad’s furious glare in my direction. “He’s a first-year—hell, first-day member. He can’t put forth a plan until his second year without a council member willing to sponsor his plan, of course. Rules are rules.”
“Certainly one of you will sponsor it.” Dorothy raised her eyebrows at the council. “Trust me: you want to know what he’s offering.”
I would have missed the subtle shake of Cam’s head at Dorothy if I hadn’t been watching his expression so closely.
Walter looked up and down the dais. As foreman, he couldn’t sponsor a plan, and I wasn’t sure what other support Cam could count on up there.
“I’ll sponsor it.” Julie Hall leaned forward, blatantly looking away from her father-in-law’s seat. She was the youngest member of the council, having inherited the seat from her mom when a car accident took her last year.
“That’s my girl!” Gideon shouted from the second row, causing a few sputtered laughs.
“What is this plan?” Walter asked before any other objections could be raised.
Camden leaned over me to raise the microphone, and I scooted to the left, giving him the podium. When I moved to retreat, Dorothy put her hand on my back, effectively stopping me.
“I’d like to offer the Rose Rowan Mine up for tours.”
There was that collective gasp again, and this time it included mine. The Rose Rowan Mine was the one property this council had always salivated over, but Art and Cal had kept it closed for decades.
“I’m sorry, son?” Walter asked for clarification, his eyes wide.
“I would like to open the mine to tours. I’ll get started on it right away, but I can’t guarantee it will see visitors this summer. Next is probably a more accurate opening.”
“How?” Dad barked, clearly torn between his hatred for Cam and his longing for the mine to reopen.
“I figure a giant sign that says ‘open’ should do the trick.”
Great. He’d come this far only to let his mouth ruin the whole darn plan. Go figure, Camden Daniels losing his cool at the last second and letting everything turn to crap.
“Not what I was asking,” Dad retorted. “That mine is a mess and in no shape for visitors. We all want it to open, that’s no secret, but have you thought this through? Engaged an engineer?”
Funny how the tone changed when something he wanted was on the table.
“Well, I’m a civil engineer, so it’s not like I don’t have the expertise myself. I’ve worked on far bigger projects from Afghanistan to Somalia. College degree and everything, since résumés seem to be the order of the day. Figure if the United States government trusts me to design and construct dams, bridges, and buildings, you should, too.”
“But the money…?” John Royal questioned.
“The State Historical Fund has offered us a two-hundred-thousand-dollar grant to use as we see fit,” Dorothy added. “I confirmed today that we’d be getting it, though I’m jumping about three places ahead on the agenda.”
“But that’s for the entire district!” Tim Hall blustered. “What about restoring the tannery?”
At least Tim was consistent. He didn’t care what Cam had. He just wanted him gone.
“Running tours through the Rose Rowan will easily add another thirty thousand visitors a year, you stubborn fool,” Dorothy snapped. “Are you telling me you don’t want that? We don’t need it? You’re willing to punish the townspeople of Alba simply because you don’t like Camden Daniels?”
This time, the crowd murmured its assent.
“I’ll help with the mine, too,” I offered, hoping to turn the tide.
“Well, now, I could certainly—” Genevieve interjected.
“I accept Willow’s offer,” Cam cut her off.
Cam turned as he looked at every single member of the council until finally reaching his brother.
“But you don’t have the authority to open the mine,” Xander said, his forehead crinkling. “Not that it’s not what the town needs, but you and I both know it’s incredibly dangerous down there, which was why it was closed in the first place. Just imagine the liability. One tourist goes wandering, and we’re not just a ghost town in name. I’m sorry, Cam, but you just can’t make it safe enough. Speaking for Dad’s half of the Rose Rowan Mining Company, I can’t in good conscience let you do this. Cal may have left you the building on Main Street, but we both own the mining company.”
Every seat on the council turned to look at Xander like he’d licked the candy bar they’d been eyeing.
“We can’t let our tourists get hurt. That will kill the town faster than anything,” he said, and other members nodded. “Cam’s only been home a couple weeks. That’s not even long enough to assess what the mine needs. I’m thrilled that he’s willing to open this avenue for us, but it’s really a matter of business to be handled after the season. Not in haste, and not now.”
Camden’s jaw flexed, and his fingers bit into the podium, turning his knuckles white. “Then, it’s a good thing I’m more than qualified to see to both the safety and mechanical restoration of the mine. It will be completely safe in the designated tour paths by the time we open and blocked off in every other area. And as for my ability to speak on behalf of the mining company, why don’t you read the first page of the Rose Rowan Mining Company documents I attached?”
All the council members flipped through the stapled pages.
“Are you kidding me?” Xander exclaimed.
“Afraid not, big brother. It was easy to skip over, seeing as the mining company hasn’t made a cent in the last seventy years.”
Xander shook his head, reading the page over and over.
“What does it say?” someone in the crowd yelled out.
“It says that Uncle Cal was the majority owner in the company. You might be able to exercise Dad’s vote, but I still own fifty-five percent of it, and I say we open the mine.” Cam didn’t smile or look away from his brother.
“Give us a moment,” Walter said, then beckoned the other council members. They covered their microphones and moved inward to talk among themselves.
“Look at you, breaking the rules and going against the town,” Cam whispered to me.
“More like bending the rules. And why didn’t you just come out and say that you wanted to open the mine?” I asked Cam quietly. “They would have rolled over immediately instead of putting you through that.”
“I need the mine for leverage, for something way bigger than getting a vote in the Historical Society.”
“Your dad?”
He nodded. “My dad. And honestly, I figured if they wouldn’t let me into their precious club because of my past, they don’t deserve what the mine could mean for their future.”
“I get that.”
“I didn’t know about your degree. Not that part, at least. Thank you for taking my side.” He inclined his head but still didn’t take his focus off the council.
“Always,” I said before I could stop my foolish mouth.
“Not always,” he countered with a wry smile.
“Fine, you’re right. But I’m taking it now.”
“Thank you,” he repeated.
“You’re welcome.” He was right. Once I’d started dating Sullivan, it had been his side I’d taken, not Cam’s. The dynamic shifted, as anyone would have expected.
A few more tense moments passed before the council resumed their seats. My fingernails carved half-moons in my palms as I prayed that just once they’d break the rigid mold of their traditions. I didn’t even care if it was greed that moved them as long as they moved.
“Camden, the council has agreed to consider your summer plan. We’ll need detailed plans on both the Rose Rowan Mine and the restoration of the Rose Rowan building by the March twenty-ninth meeting, so you have two weeks. As long as everything is in order, I don’t see why you can’t begin working on the mine immediately.” Walter grinned.
My hands covered my mouth as shock and joy took turns overwhelming me. For the first time in my memory, the town of Alba cheered for Camden Daniels.
Reopening the mine implied that he was home for good, and while that sent my heart skipping, it also caused my smile to falter. I could only hide my feelings from Cam for so long, and something told me that working with him was only going to hasten the inevitable.
Chapter Nine
Camden
“It’s seen better days.”
I rose from where I was inspecting the pilings on the interior and turned around to see my brother standing in the doorway of the Rose Rowan building. There were only about twenty minutes until Willow would walk into whatever shit storm my brother was here to deliver.
“That could pretty much be the town motto of Alba,” I replied.
“And yet here you are, riding in like some white knight, ready to save us all.” He folded his arms over his chest but still gave me a million-dollar smile.
“Hardly.” The snow crunched beneath my boots as I crossed the fifteen feet to where he stood. “The town is doing just fine. Opening the mine might give it a boost, but that’s it. Honestly, I’m shocked you didn’t think of it first.”
His lips pursed before smoothing. “I knew there was zero chance in hell I was going to get you back here, let alone get you to sign over your half of the mining company. Not to mention find an engineer willing to take it on. That place is a liability nightmare.”
More than half of the mining company. Not that I’d say it, of course. He didn’t need salt rubbed into an openly raw wound.
“I’m not asking you to sign over your portion. But getting on board with this would go a long way, don’t you think? At least politically for you.”
“Is that what you’re looking for? Political clout? Want to run for office now? Cam, you’ve been home all of a minute, and suddenly you know best when it comes to Dad, the mine, the needs of the town. What are you doing?”
“The best I can to keep the promise we made.”
“What are you talking about?” His hands waved with every word.
“We told Dad he could die in that house. Don’t give me that look. We did.” I tucked my hands into my pockets to ward off the cold.
“We were kids,” he said slowly. “Mom had just died. You were what? Twelve?”
“And you were fourteen,” I reminded him.
“And Dad was drunk!” Xander shouted, then took a deep breath, his face turning left, then right, no doubt checking to see if his outburst had been overheard. Not that anyone was listening. This section of Main Street had at least six abandoned buildings that had yet to be restored, and none of the restored buildings was open yet.
“Don’t worry—we’re alone out here. You don’t have to be all shiny perfect. Just be real. Yes, Dad was drunk, but we weren’t. He was heartbroken and said that he was going to die in that house, just like she had. And then he turned to us and said, ‘You promise me that when I’m old, I can die in this house.’ And you promised.”
“We didn’t know he’d get early-onset Alzheimer’s! We didn’t know that Sullivan would die or that you wouldn’t come home for ten years. Stuff changes, Cam. What the hell does any of this have to do with the mine? Because you and I both know you couldn’t give a shit about what happens in Alba.”
I took in the roofless building I stood in, from the stacked-timber walls to the glass panels on the north wall that had miraculously survived the last 140 years.
“This is my home. I absolutely care about what happens here. And yeah, I was gone for ten years, and you can judge me for that. I’m used to it. We didn’t know what would happen to Dad or to Mom, or to Sully, for that matter. But it’s in our capability to keep Dad in his house. And don’t tell me it’s too expensive. We both know Dad can afford at-home care.”
“You want me to strip Dad’s accounts to nothing?” Xander wavered between incredulous and mad. “You realize that’s it, right? When he dies, all we have are the mining company and the land. That’s it. Dad isn’t exactly up to going back to work with the Forest Service.”
“It’s his money. If home care strips his accounts to zero, then we’ll just have to figure it out. Please don’t tell me that your argument for putting him in a home is about preserving your inheritance.” The words tasted bitter in my mouth.
“He’s only fifty-eight. You don’t know how many years we’d be signing up for, but he sure as hell doesn’t have another thirty years of at-home care in his accounts, Cam. And as for the inheritance? That’s easy for you to say. You came home to a house that’s already yours. Land that’s yours. This building that’s yours. You have fifty-five percent of the mining company already and a voting membership in the Historical Society.”
“You sit on the damned council!” I snapped. “Do you honestly care if I vote?”
“I don’t sit there. Dad does. I only have his seat because he’s incapacitated, and you know it. And when he dies, what then?”
“Are you seriously asking me about his seat?” Flames licked up through my lungs, tickling my tongue to say something reckless, to breathe the fire that Xander knew I was capable of. “Do you think I give a shit about who sits on the council?”
“I didn’t think you cared about the company or the mine, yet here you are.” He gestured to the doorframe with his leather-gloved hands.
“I’m only in this building because I have to get a plan to the council by next week. That’s the only way to reopen the mine!” This was a means to an end.
“Why is that so important to you?”
“Because it will pay for Dad’s care if you won’t!” I shouted
, pointing directly at him.
His mouth hung open for a split second before he closed it. “You’re reopening the mine to pay for Dad’s care?”
Now was definitely not the time to get back into the DNR question. Xander was a politician, but I’d spent the last ten years waging war and building infrastructure. I wasn’t showing my hand yet. Not when I couldn’t trust him to have a rational conversation about it.
“Yes. I have no control here, Xander. You have it all. You control Dad’s care, his finances, his council seat, and his very life. So if money is really the only reason you won’t let him stay in the house he was born in, that our mother died in, then I’m alleviating that concern. The money the mine will bring in from tours will more than cover it. Even if I can only give Dad fifty-five percent of the money.”
He flinched at that last sentence.
“I just thought you needed a job. Needed income,” he admitted quietly.
“Needed income? I’ve barely spent half of my army pay for the last ten years. I left my job to come here, and I’ve already had about a dozen offers with different firms making a hell of a lot more than anything the mine could haul in during the season. If I just wanted a job, I’d take one of those offers and cut the amount of shit I’m being given. Do you really think I’m here as a last resort?”
He glanced down at his shiny dress shoes. I bet his toes had to be freezing, and a part of me hoped so. “The thought had occurred to me, yes. Not that I’m not happy you’re here.”
“You show it so well.”
He sighed, looking up like he was praying for patience. Maybe God still listened to him. Good for Xander.
“You went behind my back,” he said softly, and a twinge of hurt echoed through his eyes.
“Coming home?” I clarified. “Because you’ve been asking me to come back to Alba for the last five years. Hell, you asked me to get out after Sullivan.”
“No, with the mine. You could have come to me. We could have pitched it like a team. Instead you left me out and made me look like a fool in front of the council for not knowing what you had planned.”
Great and Precious Things Page 12
