by Mina Khan
The studio door opened and Cyndi Lauper’s Girls Just Wanna Have Fun poured into the kitchen. Lynn slammed the folder shut and looked up.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you, chica.” Jen stood, cleaning paint from her fingernails with a rag. Her hair stuck out every which way, making her look like a lime green porcupine. “My stomach told me to come out and fix lunch.”
Lynn glanced up at the cat-shaped kitchen clock. Fifteen minutes past one. Where had the time gone? “Sorry, I should have fixed us something, but I got lost in paperwork.”
Jen washed her hands at the sink and headed for the refrigerator. “Don’t worry about it. So what’s so interesting?” She pulled out salad ingredients and carried them to the counter next to the sink.
Lynn bit her lip and watched Jen slice and dice. Within minutes of reading, she’d figured out she held the conceptual design of the proposed land development. Contraband material. Should she compound her sins by sharing the information with Jen? Oh hell, she was already in trouble. “Okay, this has to stay between you and me.”
“Oooh, do tell.” Jen’s eyebrows danced up and down as she carried the tossed salad to the table and settled into a chair.
Lynn grabbed plates and utensils. She helped herself to heaps of spinach, artichoke hearts, mandarin oranges, and grilled chicken. “It’s a proposal for developing thirty five hundred acres as a high-end subdivision— three hundred houses at about $400,000 each.” She took a bite. Cheese. It needed cheese.
Jen’s eyes widened as she let out a low whistle. “Where are they planning it?”
She hurried to the refrigerator and grabbed the hunk of Cheddar, then a knife. “Paradise Valley.”
“Holy Purple Cow!” Jen glanced at the folder then at Lynn. She squinted. “Wait a minute, is this what they discussed in closed session? Where did you get the folder?”
Her face burned. “It was an accident. I must’ve grabbed it when I picked up all the additional information.” She focused on cutting the cheese into slivers over her salad.
“Lynn, you shouldn’t have this.”
“I know.”
Jen pushed away her half-eaten salad and jumped out of her chair. She crossed her arms and paced. “You are going to get in trouble for this.”
“Thanks for the news flash.” Lynn nibbled her thumb. “Only if they find out. I mean, they might know it’s missing, but they don’t know I have it.”
Jen glared at her. “Lynn!”
She held up her hands in surrender. “I can’t just hand this back to some commissioner, giggle and apologize for the silly mistake. No one’s going to buy that.” She twirled her fork, making the spinach dance.
“Well, you definitely shouldn’t have read it.”
Lynn sighed. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have read it, and I shouldn’t have said anything to you.”
Jen stomped to the table and reached for the folder, but Lynn snatched it away. “No, no, I should start doing the right thing at some point.”
“Oh cut the crap!” Jen rolled her eyes and threw herself back into her chair. She grabbed the folder. “Heck, you’re going to hang for it anyway.”
She read with pursed lips. “Huh, they’ve designated two hundred acres in the middle for a shopping center.”
“Well, right next to it they have a children’s park.” Lynn pointed at the much smaller green area on the drawing.
Jen snorted. “Yeah, look at the comparative sizes. Freaking developers!” She flipped back to the map locating the proposed subdivision in the county. “That’s a lot of land, and the Jarvis property is right at the center of it.”
Lynn pored over the spot Jen indicated. “I wonder if they’ve had an offer on the land.” She needed to ask around.
Jen shrugged. “I can’t imagine them selling. In fact, I can see quite a few people in the area turning down their offer. There’s a lot of family history tied up in those properties.”
“Even if the price is right?” Lynn glanced at the business card attached to the proposal. Something sparked in her mind, but she couldn’t stoke it into fire just yet. “The representative, Henry Chase, looked rich and confident.” She flipped through her papers and notes.
Jen frowned. “Maybe, money can make a difference to some people, but I doubt it. He came sniffing around here, but lost interest when I told him I was merely the renter.”
Lynn bound out of her chair and rummaged through Jen’s collection of pens and pencils by the phone. She grabbed a red pen and drew lines across the Jarvis land.
“Great, now you’re defacing a document you shouldn’t have.”
“Hush, finders keepers.” Lynn continued to draw, then pulled back and cocked her head to look at what she’d drawn. She rolled the pen to Jen. “Can you locate the other recent fires on this?”
After they plotted out the fires, Jen let out a low whistle. “Well, that’s some interesting overlap.”
Chapter 9
A grown man did what needed to be done without whining. Fortified with that thought and strong, black coffee, Jack strode into the shadowed library.
Was the room shrinking? He forced himself to breathe deeply, inhale the stale, warm air— dust-coated and dry, musty with the smell of old books, dog and a hint of mold.
Damn, he missed being outdoors in the crisp October air, feeling the sun on his skin, watching the blaze of autumn colors on the Flame Sumacs lining the fields. But he couldn’t work at the farm since the machine parts he needed weren’t in yet. Instead, he found himself stuck with fun things like paying bills and balancing accounts. Holy shit. He’d die of excitement. Jack groaned and promised himself a beer at the end of the torture session.
Setting his coffee down, Jack flicked on the lamp. Another thing he didn’t like about the room— no windows. He fell into the large, red leather chair and looked out over the ornate and imposing desk. Twenty years dropped away leaving him a gangly ten-year-old, awed and lost, in Dad’s library, in Dad’s chair, behind Dad’s desk. The thrill of the forbidden zigzagged through him.
Jack shifted around, trying to get comfortable in a chair with worn cushions molded to someone else’s body. Lynn was right. Time for a change.
Lynn. Her voice echoed in his head: Kiss it and make it better? Damn, instant hard on. He shifted in his chair and shook his head. Bills. He needed to take care of bills. Distraction and finance didn’t go well together.
Jerking open a side drawer, he pulled out the folder of current bills, then thumbed through all the ones with approaching due dates. He'd just scribbled his signature on the tenth check when the phone jangled. He snatched up the receiver with relief.
“Hi there neighbor,” a woman purred. Katherine Harrington came from a ranching family with roots going as far back as the Callaghans and she lived not far down the road from him.
His spirits plummeted. For a moment, he’d been hoping to hear Lynn’s voice. Ridiculous. Why on earth would she call? Probably didn’t even have his number.
“Oh, hey Kate. How're you doing?” Jack asked as he leafed through a few other bills.
“Um, okay,” she said. “Still adjusting to being single again.”
Memory clicked into place. She’d divorced her lawyer husband in Dallas a year ago. Shouldn’t that be long enough to adjust? What did he know— always a groom’s man, never the groom. Geez, what exactly should a guy say in response? I am sorry? It’ll get better? How about them Cowboys?
“So are you going to the Denim & Diamonds Ball this evening?” She filled in the silence on the line.
Damn! Jack knew he'd forgotten something. The ball was an annual fundraiser for West Texas Regional Hospital. “Truth be told, I’d forgotten all about it.” He winced at the thought of wearing a tux.
Kate sighed. “It’s for a really good cause. All those poor indigent children. They deserve medical treatment as much as those of us who can pay for it.”
“True, maybe I’ll mail in my check this year instead of presenting it at the ball.�
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“I’m glad to write the hospital a check, but they're insisting I show up. I’d rather be anonymous.”
“Same here.” He cradled the phone between his chin and shoulder, as he returned the file to its original place.
“I guess they want to encourage the other big pockets to donate.” Silence hung on the line again.
Jack cleared his throat. “Yeah, well have a good time.”
“Would you mind?” Her voice was almost a whisper.
“Mind what?”
Kate giggled, making his eyebrows climb. “This is embarrassing, but I couldn’t scrounge up a date for tonight.” She coughed. “So I was thinking, maybe we could go together. You know, help each other survive the evening. But I don’t want to impose on you.”
Jack bit back a groan. Dang it, he had to do the right thing. “Oh why not, I’ve got a tux, I might as well use it. I’d be happy to escort you.”
“You’re such a gentleman,” Kate said. “I’ll have to think of a way to make it up to you.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“What’s the fun in doing things I have to?" she said with a laugh. "See you at six thirty.”
Kate must have been watching for him, because she emerged as soon as Jack pulled up. He whistled softly under his breath. She looked model beautiful - tall and slender, with spun gold hair combed into an elegant up-do. The setting sun glittered off the diamonds at her ears and neck and splashed onto marble smooth bare shoulders. He straightened the lapels of the tux and hoped he passed muster.
Her look said, admire, but don't touch.
Unbidden, Lynn’s face filled his mind: her impish grin, warm eyes and scatter of freckles— a face so touchable. Where else did she have freckles? Probably all over. He’d love to play connect-the-dots with his finger, tongue. Jack sighed and returned to reality.
Kate’s icy-blue eyes met his, cool and measuring. He couldn't imagine joking around with her or mussing up her hair. Oh well. She was a good neighbor. And this was just a matter of convenience, not a date. He leapt out, ran to the other side of the pickup, and held the door open for her.
She stopped and her smile wavered. “Would you mind if we took my car? It'll be hard to get in and out of the pickup in this dress.”
Jack nodded, eyeing the clingy pale blue sheath that showed off her sharp curves. How did she move in that thing? Then his eyes fixed on the deep V of her décolletage. Diamonds and soft woman. Now that's what's called Icy Hot.
Her hand smoothed down her side, before reaching into a tiny purse. She gestured with keys in her hand.
Jack gulped and turned to where she indicated. This time, he whistled appreciatively loud and clear. The polished-silver Lexus was a beaut of a car. As he slid into the passenger's seat and buckled himself in, Jack realized no amount of washing and spit polish could make his pickup compare to this sleek machine. He breathed in the warm leather smell of the interior. Nice.
Kate peeled out of her drive and screeched onto the highway, interrupting his Zen moment. Damn, where's the fire? He glanced at the clock to make sure they weren't late. As the speedometer leaned further and further to the right, the car's gentle purr climbed into a roar that reverberated in his blood. He pressed his right foot to the floorboard and stifled the urge to snap at her.
“Haven't seen too much of you lately,” she said.
“Busy farming.” He gulped and swallowed the scream that tried to claw out.
“All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.”
He glanced at her and caught her looking at him from beneath thick lashes. Her lips curved into a smile. He shrugged, trying to look relaxed.
“Got to finish harvesting before …Um, there's a sharp curve coming up.”
She swerved hard, banking to the left. Jack grabbed the dash while his heart threatened to run off without him. Maybe he could walk to the damn party.
She laughed.
He couldn't believe how soft and genteel she sounded despite the car careening on the road. How could she be so cool, with the car almost out of control? Missed her calling as NASCAR driver.
“You never did take time for fun,” she said. “In fact, you never noticed anything beyond your physics books.”
He kept his eyes on the road and clutched the edges of his seat. “Like what?”
She drove in silence, slowing slightly. “Like me.”
Okay. Call him clueless. “You were one of the popular girls in high school,” he said, breathing easier. “Didn't think you noticed me.”
“Not notice a Callaghan?” She turned toward him with one sexily raised eyebrow.
Keep your eyes on the damn road, woman. He fiddled with his tie. “I remember my dad and your dad came up with that great scheme of sending us to the prom together.”
Laughter shook her shoulders. “Yeah, I think they even picked a place for our wedding.”
Heat flamed across his face. “I was mortified and refused to put you into that position.”
“So you asked that …What was her name? That strange Goth chick.”
“Kendra.” She'd been new to the school. Her dad was an oilfield worker who moved from place to place, so they weren’t around for long. Too new to know all the baggage that came with the Callaghan name. Best that way. Lynn was new too. New and without any preconceived notions. Excitement buzzed up his spine.
“Didn't realize until then what a softie you were,” Kate said. “It was nice of you to ask her. I guess we all felt sorry for her.”
He shrugged and stared out at the darkness rushing by. Sorry? He hadn't felt sorry for her. Kendra had been like him. They didn’t fit in. She didn’t look like the other girls and he was a nerd on top of being a Callaghan.
As a bonus, he'd completely horrified his father. Jack smiled into the dark. Kendra and he had split early from the party and ended up star-gazing on Mount Nebo, the only-decent sized hill for miles around. He'd had his first kiss that night. He licked his lips remembering the taste of spearmint gum. What would it be like to kiss Lynn?
“Well, I have to admit I was kind of disappointed.”
He took in Kate’s sharp profile. Other memories, like the whispers and name-calling he’d endured for being a Callaghan, the fights he’d gotten into because of all that, bubbled up. “Actually, given the Callaghan reputation, I’m surprised you or your dad even considered the idea.”
“Dad came from a long line of bankers, he was always in favor of a good merger,” she smiled. “As for me, I just wanted a taste of the tall, dark and dangerous Callaghan.”
Flash bulbs popped, blinding him as soon as they walked in. Damn photographers. Must be a slow news day or something. Kate’s grip on his arm tightened. She nodded and beamed, completely overshadowing him. Not a problem, since he didn't like being the center of attention anyway.
Kate leaned close. “Hey, we might make it into the San Angelo Herald society page or the hospital newsletter.”
Her whisper tickled his ear and Jack shifted to put some distance between them. “Yay us.”
“Did you see the TV cameras?”
“Kinda hard to miss.” He looked around the hall, taking in the twinkling white Christmas lights, the giant clear plastic snowflakes that shone like melting ice and the clouds of billowing gauze.
Someone had performed a miracle. He’d attended plenty of sausage suppers, auctions and other fundraisers in the hall and usually nothing could hide the ugly cream walls and the cold glare of fluorescent lights. He turned to Kate. “Who decorated this place?”
“I think it was that new artist in town, Jennifer Delgado,” Kate said. She dragged him toward a table.
He made a mental note to compliment Jen next time he saw her. Little glittery snow globes propped up snowflake-shaped names tags on white china. Jack pulled out Kate’s chair. He nodded to the six others at their table— a who’s who of the old money in the area. Hands down the two of them were the youngest.
The lights blinked until the music a
nd noise faded. Then the emcee stepped up to the microphone and started talking about the importance of the fundraiser. When his name came up, Jack flushed and ducked his head. Geez, could they move on?
Kate’s name rang out into the room. She stood, looked around and nodded a few times, waved and smiled. Too bad she didn’t have a tiara and a Miss Whatever sash. Jack grabbed his water glass and took a drink. Kate definitely handled attention better than he did, and especially well for someone who claimed she preferred anonymity.
After the applause had died down, Amos Tavistock raised an eyebrow at Jack from across the table. “A shy Callaghan? Hard to believe. All the Callaghan men before you didn’t balk from taking credit —whether they deserved it or not— especially your great grandfather and grandfather. Sharpest wits in the west, we used to say.”
“Hush,” Elsie Tavistock leaned close to her husband. “If you can’t say anything nice, keep your mouth shut.”
The older man colored and patted his wife’s hand in silent apology. Tiny and thin, with silver hair and bright twinkly eyes, Elsie looked like a pretty bird perched in her wheel-chair.
Jack shrugged. Tavistock had to be ninety if he was a day and had likely known the older Callaghans. What he said was true enough. Not exactly complimentary, but true. Jack eyed the empty wine goblet next to his sweating water glass, and willed the waiter to appear. It was going to be a long evening.
The band struck up a waltz. Not wanting to hear anymore about his family, Jack asked Kate for a dance. Congratulating himself on his escape, he put an arm around her and began to move, only to flounder when she snuggled up close and pressed her breasts against his chest. After the third time he stepped on her toes, Kate suggested they return to the table. Relieved, Jack shepherded her through the dancers, mumbling an apology for his two left feet.
He stifled a groan as they approached the table where an opinionated discussion about oil prices, stocks and shares competed with the strains of the waltz. Reminding himself why he’d come, Jack pulled out Kate’s chair again and seated himself. Thank God someone had filled his wine glass. He sipped wine, devoured both his and Kate's chocolate cakes, and felt his mood go foul as conversation continued on business topics. Oil money constituted a big chunk of his inheritance from the Callaghan estate, but damned if he'd talk about it at a party.
