“Calm down.” John pushed away from his workbench. “I know you don’t like it when I help—”
“I wonder why.”
“But,” he overrode Jack’s protest, “that job needed to be yours. A couple of the affected landowners might have thrown some weight behind your bid.”
“And if I move the project, they don’t get what they bargained for,” Jack finished, his voice weary.
“Exactly.”
“I didn’t need your help, you know,” Jack said. “I know what I’m doing.”
His father’s faded green eyes sparkled. “I believe in insurance.”
Or, in this case, handcuffs. John had wanted his son on the project and to ensure he had to face Maren if she showed up. I ought to burn all of them. He could move to another plot of land and let his dad’s cronies rain all over him. His father had created this monster. Let him clean up the mess.
On the other hand, Jack wouldn’t be able to escape all the political fallout, and that could be a bigger nightmare than Maren could ever create. Maybe.
Jack let out a harsh sigh. “Okay. You win. She’s going to fight me on this, but I’ll deal with it. And then she’ll go back home. If you led me into this with a hope that we’d get back together, you were wrong. It’s been over with Maren for ten years. Nothing has changed.”
More or less. The fleeting kiss from yesterday flashed through his mind—the warmth of her lips under his. The softness of her skin.
Ah, crap. Knock it off, Mason. His temperature edged up a notch anyway.
Okay, so he’d kissed her. So what? She’d been upset, and he’d let his guard down. It wouldn’t happen again.
He shook it off. “Nothing. Just stay out of it, okay? No more interfering.”
John studied him for a long moment.
What now?
“Okay.”
Jack scowled. “I’m serious. No more ‘favors.’ Or whatever it is you do to bury me up to my neck in problems.”
“Of course not.” John flashed him a quick smile and returned his attention to his work. “Consider me out of it.”
Jack turned to go. Great. His father had decided to play matchmaker, and now Jack had to make everyone happy. Thanks, dad.
His brain replayed that kiss again and every instinct he had told him to get as far away from her as possible. But he couldn’t. Instead, he had to convince her to change her mind. He had no idea how to do that, but as he walked out of his father’s shop, he did know one thing.
He would never read another copy of the Marquette County Times.
Chapter Four
“Sam?”
Maren smiled up at the sandy-haired, wiry man in front of her, then flung herself into Sam Bradley’s waiting arms. “I’ve missed you so much.”
He tugged her against him. “Ditto.” He pulled back just far enough to grin down at her. “How’ve you been?”
When would she be able to hear that question without grimacing? Sam, Jack’s best friend in high school, and her strongest ally after the break up, was the one person in Shepherdsville she could give an honest answer. But not here. Not now. With the whole town surrounding her and the Board meeting only minutes way, she didn’t dare. “You know. Same old.”
His face darkened, and he dropped his arms and stepped back. “Yeah, I do. Have you seen Jack?”
She flinched at the blunt force of the question. The kiss she’d shared with Jack on Saturday flashed through her brain for seemingly the hundredth time. Sam couldn’t possibly know about that. People had seen them together, sure, but Jack wouldn’t have fed that kiss into the local rumor mill.
Or would he?
Of course not. Still, a mixture of guilt and shame twisted in her chest. After Jack moved on to Brenda, Sam had done his best to help Maren recover. He’d even ended his friendship with Jack over it. Her moment of weakness felt like a bigger betrayal to Sam than to herself.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Yes. Why?”
He took her hand and squeezed it. “Because this thing is his baby. You’re not going to be able to avoid him. I wanted to be sure you’re ready.”
Calm down. Sam would want to protect her. He’d taken that job seriously enough to nearly end up in a fistfight with Jack, then later, to show up at both of her grandparents’ funerals. He’d held her and let her cry more than once. He’d only meant to shield her. She forced herself to relax.
“Thanks. I know what he did.” She frowned up at him. “You knew I’d be here, didn’t you? That’s why you came?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Lacey Blackwell said she saw you downtown this weekend.”
“Who?”
He grinned. “Sorry. I forgot you’ve been out of touch. Lacey Underwood. She got married a few months ago.”
“Oh.” Out of touch? Try completely disconnected. “And you knew I wouldn’t want to give up the farm,” she murmured. He would know. Sam understood her.
And yet he hadn’t warned her.
She glanced over his shoulder. Jack stepped through the back door of the town hall, and green eyes clashed with hers. Her shoulders tensed. She had told herself all weekend that she could forget that kiss and put up a decent fight today, even while he stared a hole through her back. Still, seeing him stole the breath from her lungs.
She tore her gaze away and took Sam by the arm. “Come on.” She guided him towards two empty seats near the front of the room. The skin on the back of her neck prickled as she settled in next to him.
Stop it. Jack’s not paying any attention to you.
Still, she couldn’t shake the heavy weight that settled on her back, like fingers pressing against her skin. She glanced at Sam and he flashed his teeth in a false smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Ignore him. You’re not in high school anymore.”
True. She had come a long way from the awkward young girl who could never fit in here. Sure. Now I’m the educated young adult who still doesn’t fit in here. She folded her arms over her chest and slumped down in her chair. Why am I doing this?
Grandma and Grandpa, that’s why.
Sam draped his arm around her shoulders. “Lighten up. You’ve been training for this for years. You can handle it.”
She closed her eyes and leaned against his shoulder. What would she do without Sam? She hadn’t spoken to him for years, and yet he’d still come to her rescue. Just like always.
Except he hadn’t warned her.
She frowned up at him. “Sam, why didn’t you call me?”
“I didn’t know you were in town until I stopped by the feed store yesterday.”
“No.” She straightened and turned to face him. “I mean why didn’t you tell me they were taking the farm. You had to know about it.”
Something flickered in Sam’s eyes, but his expression cleared before she could decipher it. He pursed his lips. “I guess I thought you knew.”
Her frown deepened. “And you thought I wouldn’t mind?”
His face paled, and his expression turned grim. “I’m sorry. I’ve had… other things going on. I should have called you.”
She studied him for a long moment. Sam would have called her. He was the only real friend she had left in Shepherdsville, and he wouldn’t have let this happen to her without doing something. Unless he had other things on his mind. Important things.
Maren’s eyes fell to his left hand. No wedding band.
“Sam, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” His face closed, and he dropped back into his seat, his shoulders rigid.
Liar. Trepidation pooled in her stomach. “Sam?”
“Later, okay?”
She settled in next to him again, her mind racing. Sam had married Rita before they finished college, and little Doug had come along soon after. Sam adored them both. The missing wedding ring meant something had gone terribly wrong. “Okay. But I’m not done with this. You’re here for me, I’m here for you. Got it?”
He cleared his throat and gave her a single, terse nod.
; She would wait, then. But he better not expect her to wait too long.
She turned her attention to the front of the room. Laura May caught Maren’s eye as she took her seat next to the table where the board would preside. Laura May smiled, then gave her an almost imperceptible eye roll. Maren smiled back at her. She had two allies. Much better.
Jack had paused near the middle of the opposite aisle to speak to a young man with close-cropped hair. Jack’s casual jeans and T-shirt had been replaced by fitted khaki trousers and a crisp, white shirt that darkened the tone of his tanned skin. Her heart twisted in her chest.
She swallowed hard and turned her eyes away. Forget he’s here. She would never make it through this if she didn’t get him out of her head.
Like it’s really that easy.
Sam patted her hand. “Don’t worry about him,” he whispered. “You’ve got this.”
Maren nodded. Sam wouldn’t say that if he knew what she had done on Saturday. Of course, if he knew, he wouldn’t be as sympathetic, either.
She closed her eyes and let the sound of the murmuring voices wash over her. She’d spent hours researching, preparing notes, and coming up with a plan. She didn’t know if she could stop them, but if she could buy more time to think, that would be enough for now. It would have to be.
The voices in the hall grew louder, then dropped to a collection of whispers. The Board had arrived, then. Time to put on the game face. She opened her eyes. Sam sat next to her, his face flushed and his teeth clenched.
Jack stood in the aisle next to him, green eyes fixed on her.
What now?
She ignored the curious stares and the pieces of surprised questions that floated into her ears. Her brain sent her an image of Jack standing over her, his arms wrapped around her waist. She forced it away and pasted on an expression that, she hoped, passed for serene.
Jack nodded wordlessly at Sam. Sam nodded back. Jack didn’t seem to notice. He turned his attention back to her. “I don’t need to ask what you plan to do, do I?”
“Nope.”
“And there’s no chance I can talk you out of it?”
As if. “Nope.”
He nodded. “I figured as much.” He turned to go, then stopped. His gaze caught and held hers. “They’re voting today. We could make a deal now, but we might not be able to after.”
Deal? He’d never mentioned a deal before. Did that mean he was worried? Good. She didn’t need to be the only one.
What kind of deal did he want, though? Did he think he could buy her consent?
It doesn’t matter. She didn’t want money. She wanted her home. Besides, any deal he offered was bound to end with him taking her farm and her finding a way to live with it.
“I’ll take my chances.”
His lips twisted into a lopsided grin that tied a knot in her stomach. “I knew you’d say that.” He tipped another nod at Sam, then walked down the aisle and across to a seat on the front row.
Sam leaned in closer. “You all right?”
“I’m fine.” Maren frowned at the back of Jack’s head. If he had chosen her farm to get back at her, why did he want to bargain? Taking it would be more satisfying than buying it. It didn’t make any sense.
No. He had obviously hoped he could close the deal before she found out. She’d come home too early, that’s all. “He blinked,” she said. “That’s a good thing. Now, I just have to give him something to worry about.”
A side door opened, and a group of men and women filed in, led by Lance Mayfield. She straightened in her chair.
“Just relax,” Sam whispered.
Right. Relax.
She had never been less relaxed in her entire life.
Lance took his seat at the table, and the room grew quiet. Laura May flashed her a discreet smile, and Maren returned it.
Then she settled in to wait. She forced herself to sit still through the preliminary remarks, but for heaven’s sake, how did people do this all the time without dying of boredom? She’d never attended a county meeting before, but she had sat in on a few shareholder meetings. After a lengthy argument between a president and a stockholder over Roberts Rules of Order, she’d put shareholder meetings on her list of things to avoid. Now, I can add county meetings to the same list.
At long last, Lance took his place behind the podium. Every muscle in her body tensed, and Sam squeezed her hand. “Let’s finish up with old business,” Lance said. “I guess everyone knows why we’re here.”
Don’t panic. This is what you do. She took a deep breath, smoothed the hem of her pale blue blouse, and stood. “Since it’s my property we’re talking about today, I have a few questions.”
Lance turned his attention to her with obvious reluctance. “Maren. I heard you were back.”
I bet you did. How long had it taken Brenda to call her brother? Or Jack might have delivered the bad news. Lance would have heard she had come home. The only question was how many times. “Hello, Lance.”
“You missed the last meeting.”
“Judging by the signs in my front yard, I missed more than just a meeting.” A few scattered chuckles sounded around her.
He held his hands up. “Now, don’t go getting upset. We wanted to talk to you about this. We didn’t know where to find you.”
Sure. Jack hadn’t wanted to talk to her about anything. From the look of him, Lance didn’t either. “I understand. But I’m here now. Let’s talk.”
He shook his head and gave her a politician’s smile. “As much as I’d like to, the time for talking is over. We decided to investigate and come back ready to vote.” He raised his arms to encompass his fellow board members. “And we’re ready.”
She braced her hands on the chair in front of her. “I’m not.”
“I’m sorry, but we have an agenda.” He looked around at the other board members, and each of them nodded in agreement.
“Obviously.” Heat flared in the pit of her stomach. Jack might have set this project in motion, but Lance seemed just as intent on seeing it through. Either the Board loved Jack’s plans or Lance still had it in for her. Or both. “Nevertheless, you’ve opened the floor to old business. The rules require you to allow discussion, and I want to talk about it.”
Lance’s lips firmed into a tight line. His eyes flicked over to Jack, then back to her. “But….”
“Were you serious about wanting to talk to me?” she asked. “Or did you hope to take my land without me finding out?”
A wave of murmurs rippled through the room, then died down.
A red flush seeped onto his cheeks. “Of course we were serious. But things are farther along now.”
“No, because you haven’t voted. Nothing is final.” She locked her gaze with his. “I’m here. If you didn’t intend to steal my land, now’s your chance to talk.”
No one made a sound. Lance’s eyes darted around the room. “You don’t understand. We’ve laid all the groundwork. It’s too late to stop and debate the issue.”
“Really?” The heat in her stomach cranked up several degrees. “Does that seem fair to you, Lance?” Maren waved her hand at the room. “Do you think that’s what your constituents want? Because I bet they’d rather not have a Board who’s doing something so sketchy that they won’t even talk about it at a public meeting.”
“We would’ve been happy to talk about this with you at our last—”
“I’m sure you would have,” she cut him off. “But even if you vote to take my farm today, you’re not done. How long do you want me to tie you up in court while we argue over whether you’ve done everything right? Giving me a few answers is a small tradeoff, don’t you think?”
His face tightened. His gaze moved to Jack again, then returned to hers. “What are your questions?”
Jack turned in his seat and stared at her with those alarmingly green eyes.
Well, great. Her nerves stretched tighter.
But at least she had their attention. You’ve got this. Just another day
at the office.
She trained her eyes on Lance, took a deep breath, and plowed in.
# # #
Jack studied Maren, fascinated in spite of himself. As a young girl, she had walked into a school full of Southern girls and deer hunters wearing city clothes and talking with a funny accent. She’d been timid and shy and different. That was why Jack had noticed her.
Noticed? No. He’d lost his mind over her. Now, though, that timid girl had morphed into this confident young woman. She had Lance on the ropes. Jack ought to be more upset about that.
But no. His rebellious mind found the new and improved Maren fascinating.
She threatened to take you to court, Mason. Now’s not the time for admiration.
True. She’d done it to force a dialogue, though. Lance should have let her have her say. Jack decided to have a chat with Mr. Chairman before he blew the whole deal by trying to cram it down her throat. The man had no finesse.
“…to good use,” Maren was saying. “If you can’t make this industrial park happen, then I’ve given up my property for nothing.”
Lance’s face relaxed, and he flashed her a plastic smile. “You have nothing to worry about. I can assure you—”
Maren shook her head. “Thank you for that, but I want more than an assurance. I want details. Frankly, I don’t think the project is practical enough to count as a valid public use.”
Jack scowled. Not practical? How much of an amateur did she think he was? He resisted the urge to stand up and take over. The politics belonged to Lance.
“Of course it is.” Lance’s eyes darted to Jack.
That’s it? Jack glared back at him. Come on, Mayfield. Sell it.
“Are you sure?” Maren said. “This is a small town, Lance. A project like this needs infrastructure this town doesn’t have.”
“We’ve taken that into account.”
“Have you? What about roads to support fleets of heavy construction trucks?” She turned to include the other townspeople in her part of the conversation. “I live on a dirt road that’s almost impassable when it rains. How are you going to get trucks out there?” A few people nodded. “What about landfills for the debris? Does the county have the money it’s going to take to even get this project off the ground?”
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