by Lori Ryan
Lina had yet to discover what Leo and Suzi’s stance was on the proposed highway expansion. The pair had been tight-lipped so far. Some were guessing they were for it because it would bring in more tourists, but Lina knew Suzi was a big defender of the environment and wildlife indigenous to the area. Lina took a deep breath and reminded herself that this was a citizen’s meeting, not a formal hearing.
It didn’t help. She still couldn’t shake her nerves. She wasn’t completely convinced she could go up there without throwing up. In some ways she felt like this was her time to prove her worth, to her family and to herself, and she was about to blow it.
For years she’d been in Canyon Creek, flailing around from job to job not really knowing what she wanted to do with her life. She’d always been good with people, connecting with them on a personal level. But as she prepared for this meeting, gathering citizens, leading discussions, doing in-depth research, she’d thought she discovered something about herself. She could effect change. Not only in herself, but hopefully in others, too. Others, like her mother, who were convinced the town needed this expansion.
For weeks Lina had felt confident in her stance, sure of her position, but standing here now, she wasn’t so sure.
She felt more than saw Jake take a step closer to her. She turned and saw him watching her, not the events at the front of the room.
“You’ve got this,” he said, so quietly, she almost wasn’t sure she’d heard anything at all. Then he repeated it. “You’ve got this, Lina. You’re ready.”
This time, when she let out the breath she’d been holding, it was slow and steady. She was prepared, she knew that. But for the first time in a long time, she was ready.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jake stood in the back of the room, Lina’s nervous energy slowly seeping into his bones.
He’d seen her, watched her over the past few weeks while he and Becca had been in Canyon Creek. People loved her, she drew them in like moths to a flame, she had that kind of magical air about her. Hell, she’d drawn him in as well, in the very best ways.
Memories of their night together slammed across his mind and he had to adjust his stance when he started to grow hard right there in the middle of a town meeting.
“You okay?” Max asked, coming to stand near him.
Jake coughed and nodded.
Max laughed as if he knew something, which he probably did.
Lina seemed riveted to the comments now, scribbling notes whenever someone in favor of the expansion spoke. There was Brenda Cooper, the owner of the real estate agency in town. She cited the increase in business which would equate to increased property values. After that came Cleo Sullivan, owner of Cleo’s Gas N Go. It was a no-brainer that he’d want more traffic coming through town.
Jake was surprised that some spoke of the safety the expansion would bring, rounding out some of the tight curves. Lina had scoffed from her spot next to him and Jake turned his head. “What?”
“They have no proof there’s any increase in the number or severity of accidents in the five mile stretch they’re proposing to expand.”
Lina was right. When he’d met with Earl Fisk, the town administrator earlier this week, Earl laid out all the pros of the expansion—many of which Jake had countered as Lina just had—and none of the cons. It seemed Earl and many of the other members of the council had made up their minds already.
A small fissure of guilt ran through him and he knew damned well he should have told Lina ahead of time that he’d met with Earl. He hadn’t been working with the opposition, per se. Earl had just wanted tips on ways they could attack the opposition to the proposal, strategically and politically speaking. He’d given Earl the same advice he’d given Lina, trying to stay neutral in his instructions—organize, mobilize, and attack on the arguments, not against anyone personally.
The vandalism on Lina’s car came to mind. Someone was sending a message, he was sure, and he felt guilty for wondering if Earl was behind it. The man could be off-putting and gruff at times, but surely no one in their town would try to hurt Lina, would they?
Jake listened as the opposition began to speak. Eliza Davenport, the principal of the elementary school talked about how increased traffic could endanger the children. There was also Maggie, who spoke of the upcoming film festival and other projects they were working on to increase tourism. She told the council they didn’t need more traffic coming through the area for businesses to grow, they needed more town involvement and buy-in to future festivals. Her insinuation was clear—the town council hadn’t been assisting.
Some asshole in the front mumbled something about the lodge and the resort benefiting the most, to which Maggie had countered almost as passionately as he knew Lina would when she got her turn.
With every stat Maggie rattled off, Jake watched his brother Ben’s smile grow wider. He might not agree with her on the issue, but he was proud of his wife. Jake hoped he would grow to support her, not oppose her, or at least find a way to come to terms with the fact they were on opposite sides of the fence on this.
“Is there anyone else who’d like to speak?” Mayor Aguilar asked.
Jake was happy to see that despite her own interest in the build-out, given the mayor was a business owner, she’d remained fair and impartial, unlike some of the other council members. Michael Marroquin, the local attorney and owner of the town’s only law firm, had been particularly nasty in voicing his opinions about the project and those who opposed it.
Jake had never really liked the guy growing up. He’d been a bully and a sneak, two things Jake could never stand in a person.
Jake turned and stared at Lina who was studying the folder in her hand as if it held the answers to all of life’s problems. “It’s your turn,” he said to her softly.
She glanced up, her eyes wide as she stared at him. “What?”
He nodded toward the front. “It’s time for you to speak. You’re ready. You’ve got this.” He gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile.
One side of her mouth tipped up as she nodded. “Yeah, okay.”
He watched Lina gracefully step toward the front of the room, setting her folder down on the podium as she smoothed back her long hair. Leaning forward she spoke into the microphone.
“Good evening, members of the council, mayor,” she said, nodding, “my name is Lina Bianchi and I’m part of the Citizens Who Care About Canyon Creek.”
Jake winced. Okay, so it wasn’t the most original of citizens group names, and definitely not threatening enough sounding, but Jake could help with that. He should have coached her more. Why the hell hadn’t he made time to help her on this more?
He watched as the packed crowd listened to Lina speak with anxious ears. He moved stealthily toward the front of the room, standing to the side and out of sight so he could watch her face as she spoke to the council. Lina was animated and passionate, like a story teller weaving a magical tale, and everyone seemed riveted.
She didn’t simply rattle off statistics about the environment and the impact the expansion might have. Lina reminded all of them of the endangered animals that called their small part of Colorado home, painting a picture no one seemed able to look away from.
She interlaced her story with stats and enough information to drive her point home, but not so much that she lost everyone’s attention. Jake had never known so many endangered species lived in Canyon Creek, and by the puzzled looks on many of the audience’s faces, he didn’t think they had either.
On and on Lina went, and with each bit of information she fed them, the audience grew more and more caught up in her tale. Her speech contained the things political strategists and campaign managers dreamed of in their candidates, and Jake felt that familiar tingle of excitement burn in his fingers. The feeling that always warned him something big was about to happen.
Lina closed her folder on the lectern in front of her and placed her hands on top of it, her eyes landing an each council member and hol
ding their gaze for a brief moment before moving to the next, as if securing their undivided attention. She drew in a deep breath and began her closing remarks.
Jake noticed her voice had taken on a hint of her Jersey twang that only added to the allure of her fervent speech.
“As most of you know,” she glanced behind her at the crowd, “I am a passionate person. When I care about something, I care deeply and put my whole heart into the cause.”
Many people nodded and smiled. Even in the short amount of time Jake and Becca had been here, he’d seen first-hand how many people Lina touched.
“For me,” she said, “saving the natural resources of our town, and this Earth, is my passion. Ensuring that things like the clear running water of Canyon Creek will flow for decades to come without fear of pollution, ensuring that generations will be able to enjoy the wildlife me and my sisters have since we moved here, that is a passion. Knowing the trees and wildflowers that grow in abundance here in Canyon Creek, the foliage we sometimes take for granted, will continue to bloom for generations—that’s my passion. Living responsibly today so that others who come after us can enjoy all the things we have—that’s my passion.”
Jake noticed Lina’s gaze fell to her mother, who sat with many of the supporters of the road project.
Lina’s gaze moved back to the council. “Some have called me angry because of my position about this proposed expansion, but I wouldn’t call it anger. I call it passion, and I believe there is a difference.” She paused and Jake, like the rest of the audience, leaned forward, waiting for her to continue. “Recently someone tried to intimidate me by throwing a brick through my car window and slashing my tires.”
A collective gasp rose from the audience.
“What?” the Mayor said sitting forward in her seat, almost as though she might jump up and rush to Lina’s defense. The mayor’s gaze moved from side to side, as though questioning the council members.
Lina’s mother covered her mouth. “Lina, no.”
Lina turned to look at her mother. “Those are the actions of an angry person, a cowardly person, someone who’s passion has been harnessed in a negative way.” She gently touched her chest with her fingertips. “That is not me.” She spoke the words to her as if they were the only two in the room.
Antonio Bianchi, Lina’s father, reached out to take his daughter’s hand, giving her a warm smile before releasing it and nodding up at her, as if giving his approval.
Sitting beside him, Lina’s mother looked like she’d been punched in the gut. Jake couldn’t tell if it was concern or embarrassment.
Lina’s father placed his arm around his wife, pulling her in close. Lina may have thought the destruction of her car was a random act of juvenile delinquency, but obviously her mother and father didn’t.
“Anger is an emotion that drives us into action,” Lina said, “either positively or negatively. I don’t have to be destructive to make a statement, like some people.” Her gaze returned to the front of the auditorium.
Jake was struck by a sense of pride for this woman. She was standing up despite the threat to her own safety.
“My anger fuels my passion,” Lina said. “It gives me the insight to see the things that are wrong in this world and the energy needed to make them right. And this expansion is not right, not in its present proposal.”
“Lina,” the mayor warned, “this is just a public conversation, not a debate. There is no proposal on the table yet.”
“Yet, is the key word,” Lina said. “There is a proposal, Madame Mayor, but I’m not willing to wait for the yet to come before I begin this fight. I don’t want what we have here in Canyon Creek to be overlooked by powerful people looking to make more money at any expense. I believe the cost is too great.
“Before we agree to this highway expansion, we need to consider the cost to the incredible beauty of Canyon Creek and the animal life and surroundings that make it such a special place to come to.
“People come to Canyon Creek for the small town feel of it, for the skiing and hiking. They want to be outdoors here, taking in the woods and skyline, the fresh air. The offer of funding for a highway that might bring more money initially is blinding us to the implications of that highway.
“Power blinds us. Passion drives us. Many powerful people in this world have lost the passion that once drove them into action, the desire that brought them in to the arena in the first place, fighting full-force for the cause they once believed in.
“Now those same politicians are led by their own egos, their once passionate fight trumped by a desire to fulfill their own agendas, at all costs, even if what they want is no longer what’s best for everyone. Most would call that a bully. And that is wrong.”
Jake thought of the senator. Todd had lost his passion, a long time ago if Jake were honest. His ego was overpowering his own ability to do what was right, and Jake had been too stubborn to see it, too invested and caught up on the "what-ifs" to stop it. It wasn’t just the senator, Jake had lost his passion too.
Lina’s voice brought him back from his thoughts.
“I believe in what Canyon Creek represents. It’s a place people can come to be outdoors, taking advantage of the beauty and peace we have here. But all of that won’t be worth anything if that beauty is destroyed, if the wildlife and the habitats that make this place so special are wiped out. That, to me, is worth defending. I plan to be passionate in that defense, despite threats to my physical safety. My passion is in preserving this area for our generation and for those to come, and in making sure that Canyon Creek remains a healthy, vital community for all of us.”
Lina turned and stared out onto the audience, and he could see her earlier nervousness was gone. Jake laughed to himself as it hit him that she looked like Pocahontas addressing the angry white men in one of Becca’s movies. He’d definitely been watching too many Walt Disney movies.
“But most of all,” Lina said, speaking now without the aid of the microphone, but still managing to have her voice carry to the back of the room, “it is not my passion, but my compassion for this town that brings me here today. The citizens of Canyon Creek embraced me and my family when we moved here years ago. I found support here like I’ve never known. Friends who’ve become like family to me over the years. When I came here, I was an angry teenager with no desire to fit in to this new place.
“You all changed that whether I wanted you to or not. Your compassion made our move easier and drew me in. I don’t want to see this town divided. What I want is to effect change that will hopefully bring us all together. I believe we can work together to find a plan that will give us, our children, and our children’s children a better world long after we’re gone, while still allowing some of the advantages the widened highway would bring.”
Jake thought about Becca. He’d never given any real thought to what legacy he would leave behind for the next generation. Like most, even though he recycled and drove a hybrid vehicle, he’d been selfish and probably more wasteful than he could be.
Lina turned back to the council. “I don’t believe we need a faster route to get to the next town and we don’t need more powerful politicians pushing their agendas.” She paused and Jake waited to see where she was going. “What we and our future generations need is more compassion, more appreciation for the things that bring people to our town in the first place. I think that starts here. In Canyon Creek where my life truly started.”
The room fell silent, the only sound coming from the ventilation system above.
Lina’s gaze scanned each council member before landing on the mayor’s. “Thank you for your time and your consideration.” She gathered her folder and held it to her chest. Before she could even turn, the auditorium erupted in cheers, several people from the opposition standing, whether simply moved by her speech or with minds that had been changed, Jake didn’t know.
Lina ducked her head but not before Jake noticed a small smile tug at her lips. She walked toward the back o
f the auditorium and he followed her, meeting her at the rear of the room.
“Nicely done,” he said, bumping her shoulder.
She stared down at the floor.
“Lina,” he called.
She glanced up, her eyes wide, face flushed.
He nodded toward the crowd, their attention turned toward the back wall, to her. Many of the people were still clapping for her.
She studied the crowd, her smile growing.
“You did this,” he nudged her arm.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
Suddenly a loud pounding echoed through the room. “If everyone will please take their seats,” the mayor said.
The applause died down as the audience sat.
“Thank you to everyone for your input,” the mayor said
Jake noticed Mayor Aguilar’s gaze remained on Lina’s for a bit longer, a small smile on her face. “If no one else has anything further to add—”
Earl Fisk raised his hand. “Excuse me, I’d just like to add one more thing.”
Mayor Aguilar glanced from Earl up to the clock then back. “Sure, but please keep it brief. We’ve already gone over our allotted time.”
Jake glanced at his watch. It was well past nine-thirty and he’d told Devlin he’d be back to pick up Becca by nine. He’d been surprised but happy that Devlin and Becca had formed such a close bond. He knew it would be hard for Becca to leave his family when they went back to California. He glanced at the woman beside him. It would be hard for him too, he thought.
Earl cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “I just wanted to thank Jake Sumner,” Earl said, his voice ringing through the auditorium. Several people turned to look back at him.
What the hell was this about?
Earl smiled and a sinking feeling suddenly hit Jake deep in the pit of his stomach.
“He’s helped me and several members of the council with information and guidance as we wade through this difficult decision.”
It was no secret that Earl was for this proposed expansion.
