by Rita Herron
She was a smart girl all right. Smart and deceitful. “Mother, Suzanne is not coming any night.”
“What?” Her animated movements halted. “I know you’ve been ornery today, but you didn’t say something to upset her, did you? ’Cause if you did, go apologize. Take her flowers, women love flowers.”
His mother thought he had upset Suzanne? Oh, that was rich.
She pursed her lips. “I wonder if she likes daisies. Or you could take her roses. Roses are the best. I’ll let you pick some from the garden—”
“Mom, I am not taking Suzanne roses!”
She pressed a hand to her chest. “Well, you’re never going to get that girl if you don’t at least try to be a little romantic.”
Well, hell, just the mention of Suzanne Hartwell’s name was driving him crazy. He certainly didn’t intend to romance her, not after the way she’d used him.
“I’m sorry, Mom, but I’m not going to be seeing Suzanne again.” He spun on his heels and marched toward the door. He didn’t have it in him to break her heart and tell her the truth. Better she think he was a loser in the love department.
No, he’d forget Suzanne.
But he would talk to Landon and see if he could save his ranch. He’d rather rent the land to the man who had betrayed his father than let Suzanne and her company turn it into their development.
“ALL RIGHT, you want to help your cowboy save his ranch for his mama, right?” Grammy Rose said.
“He’s not my cowboy, Grammy. He hates me.”
“Psshaw. He doesn’t hate you. I saw the way he looked at you at the hospital.” She hugged Suzanne. “You’ve got your cowboy, you just need a little Cupid now.”
“I doubt Cupid will help,” Suzanne whispered miserably.
“Sure he will. You can get him back,” Mimi said, her smile radiating confidence. “Let me teach you how to belly dance. Seth loves it.”
Hannah rolled her eyes, one hand on her pregnant belly. “I wish I could belly dance right now.”
“Is that how you snared Seth?” Alison asked.
Mimi jumped up, tied her button-down shirt up to her waist to reveal her flat belly, then rotated her hips and gyrated her stomach. “It’s all in these—”
“Girls,” Grammy chided softly, peering over wire-rimmed spectacles. “I believe we’re getting off track.”
“Right,” Rebecca said. “Although maybe we could all take a belly-dancing lesson later.”
Mimi gave her a thumbs-up.
“Now, let’s get down to the nitty-gritty,” Grammy Rose said.
Rebecca spoke up. “You know I’m against the new mall development, too.”
“Me, too,” Mimi agreed. “I like high fashion, but I’d rather Sugar Hill get some trendy little boutiques. You know, the funky artsy kind.”
“Like the ones in Little Five Points in Atlanta,” Alison said.
“They have great art galleries there that showcase local artists, too,” Rebecca said.
“Pine Mountain has an entire section of antique stores, and little arts and crafts shops,” Grammy added. “Pearl and Wyline sell their needlepoint pillows there. And Junior displays his woodworking projects. He sold seventy-five wooden owls last year. Made enough to buy himself a new set of teeth.”
The girls giggled, and Suzanne wiped at her eyes, an idea beginning to take shape in her mind, “You might just have something there.”
Her cousins exchanged confused looks.
“You want Junior to sell his wooden owls down here in Sugar Hill?” Grammy asked.
Mimi clapped her hands. “And you want me to teach belly dancing?”
Suzanne laughed. “No, well, maybe.” She waved her hands and gathered her cousins and sister and grandmother together. “What do you think about this concept?”
She quickly pitched her idea, her excitement gaining momentum as they offered ideas of their own. “I’m going to call a town meeting for tomorrow tonight,” Suzanne said. “But first, I’ll put together a written plan to show everyone how my idea can work.”
“It’s perfect,” Hannah and Alison said.
“I might even show some of my art there,” Rebecca said, emerging from her shell even more.
“See,” Grammy Rose said. “I knew if the Hartwell girls put their heads together, they’d find the answers.”
Suzanne nodded. They had found a solution to the land development problem, and she had an alternate site in mind for the mall, so Rafe’s property wouldn’t need to be bought. But neither would pay his bills.
But how would she get back in his good graces again—and make him fall in love with her?
THE NEXT DAY Rafe had choked on his pride by cutting a deal with Landon to rent part of his property to the man for grazing rights. As he left, he met Palo Romerez at the gate to Landon’s ranch. “Suzanne Hartwell did what?”
“Heard she called a town meeting to discuss the new development. Guess they’ll pick up where they left off the other night.”
When her father had his heart attack. Man, Suzanne was even more coldhearted than he’d imagined. It had only been forty-eight hours and she was back in business mode. Bitterness filled him. Obviously she’d never left it.
And to think she had wept in his arms and acted as if her family meant everything to her. As if he meant something to her.
Instead, her job meant more to her than he did.
“Thanks for passing on the info,” he said, shifting gears. “I think I’ll head to town now.”
Ten minutes later he parked in front of the town hall, not surprised to find a large gathering outside. Elderly women marched in a circle, waving homemade signs painted with magic markers that read Tree-killers Go Home. A few of the old-timers chanted, “Save Sugar Hill. Save Sugar Hill.”
The mayor wove through the crowd, trying to calm people, urging folks to consider the big picture and passing out Reelect Orville Lewis stickers.
Wiley Hartwell roared up with a train of cars, decorated with banners and streamers. Dozens of people leaned out the windows, waving signs, honking horns, a few shouting through bullhorns, “Don’t kill off the small businessman.”
The prayer wagon from the church held out lit candles, the alto part of the choir humming in the background while the sopranos sang, “Save Sugar Hill from the sinners.”
Rafe shuddered at the horn-blowing, then watched in disbelief as some of the people actually drew a visible line on the sidewalk, those in favor of the development taking a stance by jumping the line to congregate together, chanting “Don’t hold us back. We want progress.” The other half shouted and yelled back, clustering on the opposite side like soldiers ready to defend their country from foreign invasion.
A shiny convertible roared up and out climbed Suzanne Hartwell, looking like the city girl she was in a black designer suit that hugged her curves and spelled class. The crowd virtually parted like the Red Sea as she sashayed through them to the front stoop.
Rafe folded his arms and watched, unsettled by her appearance and remembering how it felt to touch and taste every inch of those delectable curves. For one brief second, when Suzanne spotted him, he thought he detected a spark of emotion in her eyes.
Something that looked like tenderness. Or real affection.
But he’d been a sucker once; he refused to let her fool him again.
So he simply stared her down, silently vowing not to let her affect him.
SUZANNE’S HEART leaped in her chest when she spotted Rafe. But the look of hatred in his eyes slammed into her like a knife piercing her chest. She nearly buckled from the pain, but forced herself to move forward. Maybe if he heard the solution she’d come up with, he’d give her another chance. Whatever the outcome, she had to talk to him first and make sure he knew she really cared for him. That everything hadn’t been a lie.
She turned to the mayor. “Why don’t you get everyone inside and calmed down, then we’ll talk.”
He nodded, puffing his chubby little body up like a rooste
r ready to crow, then clapped his hands and started issuing orders.
Meanwhile, she zigzagged through the crowd until she reached Rafe, then dragged him to the corner. He simply stared at her, his dark eyes like ice. “Rafe, I’m so glad you’re here—”
“Why, so you can humiliate me in public?”
Her legs wobbled beneath her at the venom in his voice. She cleared her throat, willing herself not to break down. What had happened to spunky Suzanne who could close a cutthroat deal without blinking an eye? “No, Rafe, because I think you might like my idea. That is, if you can knock that chip off your shoulder long enough to listen.”
Uh-oh, her temper was taking over. Trying to protect her from the pain. But Rafe didn’t know that, he simply thought she was ruthless.
“Is that what you came to tell me?”
She closed her eyes, trying to regroup her thoughts, then opened them and searched his face for any trace of emotion other than disgust. She found none. She plunged forward, trying gut-wrenching honesty for once. “I’m sorry for the way I handled things, Rafe. I really am. But I’m trying to make up for it.”
His jaw tightened, emotions flickering in his eyes. It was almost as if he wanted to believe her but couldn’t.
“I don’t want to hurt you or your mother. You were right to show me your land and let me see how much it meant to both of you.”
He continued to stare at her, and she shifted, grasping for courage in spite of the fact that his reaction offered no encouragement. “I know how I would feel if someone made my grandmother give up her beloved house on Pine Mountain.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me the truth about why you came to Sugar Hill from the beginning?”
Suzanne pleaded with him with her eyes. “I…I don’t know. I was going to, but then Dad had that heart attack, and…things just happened too fast.”
His head jerked up. “You had plenty of time before then.”
“I…I know and I’m sorry.” She might as well go for broke and admit that she loved him. Maybe if she made a complete fool out of herself, he would forget the fact that she had made one out of him. Not that she’d meant to, but he thought she had. “I…I—”
“Suzanne!”
Suzanne halted in horror as James jogged to her side. He curved an arm around her and kissed her cheek. “Hey, I’m glad I got here in time. I talked to your father. He told me about the meeting.”
Rafe knotted his hands into fists, clenching his jaw so tightly his words sounded as if they’d been ground out between his teeth. “You must be from Horton Developers?”
Suzanne grimaced. Oh, heavens, what awful timing. “Rafe McAllister,” she said, gesturing toward James. “This is James Horton. My boss.”
“And her fiancé,” James said at the same time.
Chapter Fifteen
Rafe squared his shoulders to keep from stumbling backward. Suzanne was going to marry this guy?
“Engaged…” he said, spying the monster sapphire ring on her right hand. Funny how she had neglected to tell him about the man who had given it to her or its significance.
“Rafe, please, let me explain—”
James extended his hand. “We’d like to sit down and discuss some business with you.”
Rafe glanced at the man’s gesture of friendship and snarled. If he hadn’t wanted to do business with Horton before, he certainly didn’t want to touch his dirty hands now. What kind of man sent his fiancée to seduce another man to further his career? He almost felt sorry for Suzanne. Why had she let this man use her like that?
“I don’t do business with people like you,” Rafe said, not caring how ill-mannered he sounded.
Horton dropped his hand, his nostrils flaring. “Your attitude won’t save your ranch, McAllister. I know what shape you’re in financially, and how you got there.”
“James—” Suzanne clutched at his elbow, and Rafe grimaced, an irrational seed of jealousy eating at him just seeing her touch another man. He wasn’t supposed to care.
Steeling himself against his foolish feelings toward her, he directed his comment to Horton, his tone lethal. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I’m aware your father had a gambling problem and—”
Suzanne pulled at the man again, and Rafe exploded.
“My personal life is none of your business.” He refused to let the man voice the ugly truth about his father’s affairs in public. If someone else heard and told his mother, she would be devastated.
Did Suzanne already know? Had she been holding the information as some kind of wild card to play in case he didn’t cooperate?
The mayor bobbed his head out. “Ms. Hartwell, I believe I’ve got everyone settled down now. We’re ready to begin.”
Suzanne twisted her hands together, looking agitated. “Rafe, James, just come in and hear my suggestions. I have a solution that will make us all happy.”
Rafe failed to see how that was possible. Did she plan to still sleep with him and marry her rich boyfriend? “There is nothing either one of you have to say that I want to hear.” Rafe spun on his boots and thundered away, humiliation and hurt knotting his stomach.
WHEN RAFE HAD LEFT the night before, Suzanne had thought things couldn’t get worse. But his ice-cold attitude toward her had now dropped well below the freezing point.
And she still had to deal with James.
“Are you coming, Ms. Hartwell?” Mayor Lewis brushed the three hairs on his balding head in an obvious attempt to prove he still had hair.
“Yes.” Knowing Rafe needed time, and she had her work cut out for her, convincing the town to go with her idea, she headed inside. James followed.
“I’m sorry, Suzanne, I didn’t realize that guy was such a jerk or I wouldn’t have sent you down here alone.”
Suzanne winced. “He’s not really that bad. But his property means a lot to him.”
“Yeah, but geesh. Think of the money he can make.”
“Not everything is about money, James,” Suzanne countered, suddenly realizing that his entire value system revolved around dollar signs. In fact, except for his marriage proposal, which had sounded more pragmatic than romantic, most of their conversations had been about business deals, profits and earnings and stock options.
“Here, here. Let’s have some order,” the mayor bellowed.
Suzanne ignored James’s perplexed look, wove through the aisle separating the two hostile groups and took the microphone. As she gazed out into the crowd, she spotted her uncle Wiley. Beside him sat Grammy Rose, her three cousins and Rebecca. Thank God her family was behind her, she thought as they each gave her a thumbs-up.
Still, her heart ached. If only Rafe had stayed and heard her idea.
Maybe then he would realize she wasn’t the cold, heartless female he thought her to be.
“Ladies and gentleman,” Suzanne said. “I work for Horton Developers—” a round of boos circulated the room, but Suzanne waited them out, then continued “—but please hear me out.”
“Yes, hear the girl out,” her uncle Wiley shouted.
The other Hartwells clapped, and Suzanne smiled her thanks. “I understand the controversy surrounding the proposal for the new mall project, and I’ve taken everyone’s concerns into consideration. Each of you has made some valid points, but I think I’ve created a solution that will suit all of you as well as alleviate your anxiety.”
“Let’s hear it, then,” the mayor said.
Suzanne displayed the flow charts and diagrams she’d worked on all morning. “Instead of the shopping mall we had originally designed, I’ve drawn up a scale model of a different type of cluster that would lend itself to the small-town life you all love, bring in extra revenue for the town and showcase some of your own local talent.”
The crowd grew quiet, their interest captured.
“How you gonna do that?” an elderly woman asked. Suzanne smiled to reassure the woman, then noticed that Rafe’s mother was sitting next to the
lady. Mrs. McAllister fluttered a wave, and Suzanne nodded, wondering if Rafe had told his mother about her deception.
“Yeah, how are you going to do that?” Bud, Rafe’s ranch hand shot up from his seat, and Suzanne gripped the edge of the podium, his scrutinizing look not as friendly as Rafe’s mother’s.
“With a development that consists of specialty shops housing clothing boutiques, an art gallery, antique stores, as well as arts and crafts stores that could sell local wares created by the citizens of Sugar Hill. In addition, we could incorporate a country restaurant and an old-fashioned drugstore that will add atmosphere and enhance the historical feel of the town.”
“I could sell my pottery there instead of out of my barn,” a young woman with a baby in her arms said.
“And I can put some of my sewing there,” a middle-aged woman with a big straw hat said.
Rebecca’s husband, Thomas, piped up. “Rebecca has some lovely paintings to sell.”
“But where would we put it?” an old-timer in coveralls asked.
“There are some empty warehouses over on Do-than Street,” Suzanne said. “I’ve already checked them out.”
“You mean right downtown?” the mayor asked.
“Yes, it can be a town project,” Suzanne said. “With the profits, you’ll probably be able to give some of your existing businesses a facelift, too.”
“The Hotspot could use a facelift,” Mimi said.
“So could my law office,” said Suzanne’s aunt.
“And I need some renovations to my bridal boutique,” Alison added.
A gray-haired lady with a bouffant hairdo waved a handkerchief. “We could set up a place to teach arts and crafts, maybe even have a quilting bee in the back room.”
“I vote for that!” a woman beside her chirped. “We could even offer craft classes.”
“To cut down on cost, you can share space in the warehouse and curtain off different areas to make booths,” Suzanne explained. “Imagine a big flea market atmosphere.”
“My husband can sell those fabulous horse head canes he makes,” Dottie Berger said. “He hand carves each one himself so no two look alike.”
