Falling for the Lawman

by Ruth Logan Herne

  “You’ll stay here, then?” Marty asked.

  “I want to be where you are,” Julia told him. “If you’re both here, that’s where I plan to be. I’m not foolish about how difficult it is to raise children on my own. And I’m not sure what kind of visitation Vic will want, if any, so a three-hour drive might not be the smartest thing to do, but keeping the boys in the middle of his drama isn’t an option. Better that I make a move now, and get them grounded with family around. I don’t want them to be the kids the other students talk about.”

  “You don’t think Vic will want to see them?” Zach couldn’t begin to wrap his brain around such an idea. “His own boys?”

  “Judging from the little time he spent with them the past five years, my guess is no. But maybe I’m wrong.” Julia met their combined gazes and shrugged, but her voice broke. “Maybe it was just me he didn’t want to be around.”

  Marty said something not pretty under his breath and hugged her again.

  Zach stood, angry at the foolishness of people. How stupid was his brother-in-law to not realize the gifts God had given him?

  Piper’s face swam before him, and an understanding deepened within him. Abandoned children bore all kinds of scars. Those you see, and those well-hidden.

  But scars could fade with time. And new skin would replace the old, given a chance to grow free and healthy.

  Martin and Connor would be given that chance. And so would Piper, if Zach had anything to say about it.

  Chapter Nine

  Piper pulled the pickup into the Kirkwood Lake Town Hall parking lot the next morning. She’d left Marty and Berto setting up scaffolding along the northern side of the big barn once milking was done. She’d taken the quick drive to Clearwater to pick up parts for the old John Deere. Now she needed to drop off sample flyers for the bicentennial committee to review.

  She crossed the carpeted foyer of the recently renovated town building and paused at the clerk’s desk. “Betty, can you tuck these into the bicentennial committee’s mailbox for me, please?”

  “Are these the historic flyers?” The town clerk approached the desk and reached out a hand, then crowed, delighted. “Piper, I love them.”

  “Good.” Betty’s approval made Piper smile. “I incorporated ideas from various factions. The original farms, the mills, the boarding house, the train trestle...all the things that have evolved into the current Kirkwood Lake.”

  “And the two one-room schoolhouses.” Betty’s expression said her appreciation went deep. “My mother’s mother taught at this one.” She pointed to a small clapboard building Piper had nestled in an upper corner of the flyer. “And my great-grandmother on my father’s side was the high school principal of this one once they built a separate elementary school.”

  “So you like it.”

  “I love it,” she declared. “And I’m sure the committee will too. We’re so grateful you were willing to put these together. I know it probably seems like a lot of planning for an anniversary year...”

  “It’s not often a town celebrates two hundred years of being a town,” Piper corrected her. “I think it’s a wonderful idea and I know you’ve put a lot of effort in on this. That’s what makes it fun, though. The whole town, working together. Seeing our past helps us plan for the future.”

  “Piper?”

  A smooth voice called her name, too smooth. Too polished.

  Piper turned and didn’t pretend to smile at the current town supervisor. “Ron. What can I do for you?”

  “May I see you a moment?”

  She wanted to say no. Ron Palmeteer favored change in Kirkwood Lake. The fact that he got elected meant he had enough people on his side to make waves for the regular folks of Kirkwood, the ones who had lived in and worked in and molded this town for centuries. Ron talked big and acted small, two qualities Piper abhorred. But better she talk to him now than allow him to blindside her and the other local farmers. Ron and his upscale family weren’t exactly farm-friendly.

  She followed him into his office. He wore a patronizing smile, and that was almost enough to make her walk out, but she didn’t. “What’s up?”

  “Vince and Linda have a firm offer on their farm.”

  She assumed that would happen soon, because their property was beautiful and well-maintained. Therefore this wasn’t news. “To be expected.”

  “Of course.” He waved a hand as if they were simpatico. They weren’t. “And you know that Wickshire Development is vying for waterway rights on the upper west shore.”

  “Yes.” There were no waterway rights available. And that fact had kept Wickshire from creating a planned community with lakeshore access. McKinney Farm was the only parcel on that side of the lake with significant frontage, and McKinney Farm wasn’t for sale.

  “Which brings us to you.” He withdrew a rolled-up map of the lake, unrolled it across his desk and weighted the corners. “Here’s Vince and Linda’s land.”

  “Ron, I know where Vince and Linda live. We’re neighbors. And friends. We’ve worked our farms together for years.”

  “Of course.” His thin smile said he didn’t think much of that. “And here’s your land. Well—” he cleared his throat to make a point and tapped a finger to the sprawl of McKinney Farm “—yours and your brothers’. And Mrs. McKinney, of course.”

  “And my sister, Rainey.”

  He shrugged that off as inconsequential, as if Rainey meant nothing, and that put a burr between Piper’s shoulder blades. Ron’s brother Bob had been in and out of rehab for over a decade. Bob’s youngest son had multiple DWIs and could no longer drive himself anywhere. Who was he to judge Rainey’s past?

  “I understand your family has been at odds about selling, even though this is by far the most lucrative time in our lives to be wheeling and dealing. Kirkwood Lake has enjoyed a resurgence, a situation that knows no bounds as long as we don’t let sentimentality get in the way.”

  “Sentimentality?” Piper raised a brow, inviting him to continue, fairly sure he’d get to the point soon. And she was just as sure the point wouldn’t be in her favor. “I suppose you could say that running a successful family farm has sentiment attached. But then, you’ve never been part of a family business, have you, Ron?”

  “Corporate America grabbed me first.” His smile widened.

  Piper fought the urge to gag.

  “In any case, we’re at a crossroads here. A moment in time when large-scale thinking needs to overlook the narrow-mindedness of the past and embrace the vision of the future.”

  “In other words, you want things your way because your way is better.” Piper had heard this all before, just not so blatantly. Which meant Ron had something up his sleeve.

  “The town of Kirkwood Lake is serving you notice that we intend to access your lakefront property at fair market value to allow the building of sewer lines and recreational boating access for the good of the town as a whole.”

  He was trying to stake a claim of eminent domain on McKinney Farm. Not the whole thing, just the parts that made it prime developmental land, the lakeshore, reputedly worth well over a million dollars.

  “You’re trying to seize my property.”

  “No.” Ron shook his head as if he were sincerely trying to do what was best for the town. The fact that he owned a thirty-seven acre parcel adjacent to Vince and Linda’s land wasn’t lost on Piper. If their land abutted the new sewer line, the value of his property skyrocketed. “I’m doing what I was elected to do, and that is to offer my business expertise to Kirkwood Lake to encourage growth and steady improvement.”

  “And once again McKinney Farm stands in your way.” Piper drew herself more upright. “You understand I’ll fight you on this, right? And that a good share of the town will join the fight? And you’re up for reelection in two years. How do you think this
will stand in your campaign?”

  “Open your eyes, Piper.” He waved to the window at his left. “Kirkwood Lake is changing.”

  “And not for the better. Inflated land values mean higher property taxes. How will people on a fixed income manage that?”

  “Times change. People change. And old folks move on every day. Young people move in, educated people. Progressives.”

  She saw his aim clearly then, and it made her sick to her stomach. “You want a town filled with miniature versions of you. Well, it won’t happen, Ron. Not on my watch. And if you think for a minute the town won’t rise up against you on this, think again. You’ve pushed and people have backed down, a little at a time. But this.” She jabbed an angry finger at his town map. “This isn’t democracy. It’s your quest for total world domination. It won’t work.”

  He shrugged his shoulders as if she were nothing more than a pesky fly. “It will. Because your house is divided already. Read your history lessons, Piper. Lincoln said it best—a house divided cannot stand.”

  He was wrong. It would stand, and regardless of his goal to take her down, she’d make sure McKinney Farm survived.

  She stormed out, climbed into the cab of her truck, turned on the engine and drove off before she let the angry tears come, because no way was she about to give Ron Palmeteer the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

  * * *

  “We should power-wash this first.”

  Berto scowled at the scaffolding, shrugged and nodded. “That would have been smart to do before we built the scaffold.”

  “I’ll get mine and bring it over.” Zach climbed off the tiered tubing, crossed the field, grabbed a bag full of cookies that Julia had baked early in the day and wheeled the heavy-duty sprayer back across the field.

  “You could have put it in your SUV.”

  “Should have.” Zach rubbed his upper arm to ease the knot he’d gotten by half pulling, half carrying the power washer through the hard sod. “That field is not exactly wheel-friendly.”

  He ran a barn hose to the sprayer, primed the engine, then stood back as his father blasted old, faded, flaking paint from the north side of the sprawling building.

  Another engine pulled his attention. Piper drove the pickup truck into the yard, curved around the end of the barn and stopped.

  She didn’t get out.

  Piper McKinney rarely stopped moving. And she never parked and sat. Zach jogged across the front of the barns and pulled up short at the driver’s door.

  Her tears stopped him cold in his tracks.

  The moment he realized she was crying, he had the urge to pummel all the bad guys on the planet to make things right for her again. Instead, he opened the door, reached in and touched her shoulder. “Tell me who made you cry. I’ll take care of it for you, honey.”

  Her lower lip quivered more. She’d taken off to run a few errands in town ninety minutes before. What could have happened in an hour and a half?

  “The town is threatening to seize parts of the farm.”

  “They’re what?” He couldn’t wrap his brain around her words. “How do you know this?”

  She climbed out of the cab, red-eyed and splotchy-looking, so the tears had been going on for a while. He pulled her in for a hug, letting her wet his shirtfront and sleeves with her tears. And when she took a couple of deep, long breaths, he stepped back and bent lower. “No one is going to take your farm. Not without going through me first. I barely like farms, but I’m willing to die for your right to run one.”

  A hinted smile said she appreciated his sentiment, but the smile deepened when he added, “Of course my lawyer brother will help, too. Free of charge.”

  “You think he will?”

  Zach nodded. “Ethan’s always on the side of the underdog. He’ll eat this up. If it even gets that far. So tell me.” He tipped her chin up and met her gaze, needing the facts. “What happened?”

  “The town supervisor intends to use eminent domain along the northern road frontage of the farm to develop a sewer line for proposed development.”

  Zach understood the financial link between direct sewer lines and development. This was a huge and expensive step for the town to take, but he also knew the south end of the lakeshore was more friendly to increased development.

  “And they want to confiscate the lakefront property for the good of the community and use it for a public boat launch and docking area, while paying us whatever their fair appraisal comes out to be.”

  “In a pig’s eye.” He released her shoulders, strode away, then walked back, arms braced, legs apart. “Who told you this?”

  “Ron Palmeteer.”

  Zach ran a hand through his hair, then withdrew his cell phone. “Did he say when they were going to formally inform you of their intent?”

  A sheriff’s car rolled up the drive. Luke Campbell was driving. A young female deputy followed in a second car. While Piper and Zach waited, Luke Campbell cut the engine and swung out of the car. The young woman followed. Luke held an envelope in his hand, but his face said he detested the job he’d been given. “Piper, I’ve been ordered to give this to you.”

  She took the envelope from his hand, but didn’t look up.

  “Don’t hate the messenger,” Luke continued. “I’m not supposed to know what’s in this—” he nodded toward the vellum envelope she held “—but it’s all anyone is talking about at the town hall. Folks are mad, Piper. We won’t let them get away with this.”

  Tears reformed in Piper’s eyes, and Zach read the sorrow there. After all her hard work, to have some aging guy in a bad suit try to jerk the rug out from under her...

  It was wrong. No matter how he personally felt about farming, a person had the right to create and maintain a business on their own land within the parameters of the law. Piper, Lucia and Berto had done that. And more. They’d not only clung to the family farm, they’d improved it, and if the town supervisor and his board didn’t understand the importance of that, he’d be glad to set them straight at the next town meeting.

  “It’s all right, Luke.” Piper dashed away the tears with the heels of her hands. It made Zach want to protect her from bad days, crop failures, town supervisors and more. So much more.

  “It’s not all right.” Luke reached out and gave her a hug, and when it lasted a little too long for Zach’s liking, he cleared his throat. Loudly.

  Luke backed off and grinned at Zach. “Understood.” He turned Piper’s way. “There’s a town board meeting next Thursday night. We all plan to be there. And don’t trust Palmeteer not to try to do something to force your hand or landlock your options. He stands to gain a whole lot of property value if Vince and Linda’s land sells to a developer with sewer rights available. We can’t let that happen.”

  “What if we’re wrong, Luke?” Piper pulled a deep breath and waved her right hand toward the farm surrounding them. “What if this is just a silly pipe dream like my brothers have been saying for years? What if it’s time to take the money and run? Let the change come? What if I’m just being stubborn and unwilling to see the big picture?”

  “Piper, this is the big picture.” Zach put his hands on her shoulders and turned her toward the fields, the barns. “Don’t allow narrow-minded people to make you second-guess yourself. ‘Those who believe something can’t be done should get out of the way of the people doing it.’”

  “I love that quote.” She smiled up at him and his heart took another step toward total, unequivocal involvement.

  “Because you live that quote.” He gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze and turned back to Luke. “Can you let the guys on your force know what’s going down?”

  “Will do. And with the number of DWIs Palmeteer’s nephew has wiggled out of, he’s got no friends in the sheriff’s department. We all know the kid’s a deadly accident wa
iting to happen and that Ron and Bob just keep buying his way out of the system.”

  “Agreed. I’ll pass the word at the barracks tomorrow and we need a letter to the local paper. You.” Zach aimed his gaze to Piper. “Are you ready to put your heart on the page and start a revolution?”

  She nodded. “As long as someone checks my spelling.”

  “Good thing Julia’s here.” Zach smiled and brushed a fingertip against her nose. “She’s my go-to person for spelling advice.”

  Someone shut the power washer off. The sudden silence made Piper, Zach and Luke stand still, looking at one another. Piper took the first breath and broke the silence. “Do you think we can stop this? Really?”

  “Not think. Know.” Luke grinned, tipped his cap and went back to his car. He gave a high sign to the other deputy and they rolled around the circular drive, back toward the road.

  Piper scowled, kicked the dirt and worked her jaw. “You know the worst thing?”

  “No. What?” Zach stood quiet and still, wondering just how much support they would get overall. That concerned him because he knew opinions varied from one end of the lake to the other.

  “Not one of us raised a fuss when Palmeteer and his buddies started changing little things like adjusting zoning codes so you couldn’t have a mother-in-law apartment without the town’s permission. Why should you need permission for families to share the same house? That’s ridiculous, but we were all too busy making a living to launch a counterattack. Or when they redrew agricultural lines near the southern shore that pushed farms farther away from the town center. Right now I feel like I came into an ongoing game of chess and it’s my move, only I have no idea where my king and queen are hiding, which means they’re already in jeopardy.”