Stealing His Heart (McCormick's Creek Series Book 4)

by Jen Peters

  “You’re a strong woman, Raine DiMarco. You’ll do it.”

  She leaned her head against his shoulder. “You know, I used to get these feelings, these whispers, that what I was doing was right or wrong. Like my conscience was speaking out loud. Somewhere along the way, that voice quit talking. It’s come back a little. I wish it would come back more.”

  He kissed her hair and nestled her closer. “One day at a time, Raine. Lots of determination and not looking too far into the future.”

  “Is Thanksgiving too far?” She looked up, smiling faintly.

  “Nope. Thanksgiving is just right.” He brushed his lips against hers, then sat back and just held her.

  Chapter 25

  With only a few open seats in the library meeting room, Brandt sat in the front row and held Raine’s hand lightly in his. They were both wrapped in their own thoughts, rehearsing their own presentations and ignoring the murmuring crowd around them.

  Vaughn’s words echoed in Brandt’s mind as the grant committee slowly congregated. Don’t expect a welcome from me when you finally give up here.

  He wasn’t going to give up, but how hard his future would be depended on the committee’s decision tonight. He hadn’t worried before—he was confident that he had the best project—but it was different sitting here and waiting.

  Oblivious to his thoughts, Raine squeezed his hand and went to talk to Sam from the store. Brandt thrust his jaw forward, but there was nothing he could do. Just pray that his presentation went well and hit all the marks they were looking for. And that it was better than hers. And that the committee hadn’t decided already. Unless they had decided for him, anyway.

  Evelyn Hatcher called the room to order and introduced Brandt as the first applicant. His legs were a bit unsteady as he walked to the front of the room. He clicked through to his presentation and told them about the trails they were building, showed some pictures from past rallies and races he’d been to, and walked them through what to expect from a bunch of mountain bikers gathering in McCormick’s Creek.

  The group would come the second week in July, some staying in the hotel and some camping just outside town. They wouldn’t disturb the normal lives of residents, but would be close enough and hungry enough to patronize the restaurants and shops. He mentioned the sponsors he was hoping to line up, the advertising he’d need to do, and the volunteers he had working on additional trails to draw more people.

  “Yes, this event will help my own business,” Brandt admitted, “but only in small, immediately necessary purchases and hopefully plenty of goodwill. Most riders aren’t hurting for cash and will likely spend much more elsewhere.

  “Initially, this will be an introduction to what McCormick’s Creek has to offer for mountain bikers, and I’d expect many of them to return throughout the rest of the season and on into the future. It’s not just one event we’re working on; it’s drawing people up here six months out of the year, every year.”

  They thanked him, perused the papers in front of them, and discussed a bit between themselves.

  He glanced at Raine, who was tapping her pen like she was a courtroom lawyer impatient for her turn. She looked up, and their eyes met. She sent a challenging smile his way.

  She walked to the front when they indicated, her demeanor businesslike, her hair smooth and classy. He enjoyed watching her, but when she began her presentation, it was obvious she’d been doing more work than she’d told him.

  “I’ve spent the last six years as an event planner, so I know how to organize all the behind-the-scenes pieces that need to be in place. In my application for you, I focused on one event, a summer concert, and I would use some of the grant money to pay for that band. I want the residents to be included, so I’m thinking that there will be a token admission fee for them and higher prices for non-residents. Sponsorships would pay for security, facilities, etc, and because of my contacts, it won’t be a problem to get them.”

  She flashed a smile at the committee and back at the audience. Brandt fidgeted in his hard seat. He could tell that the committee liked the perk for townspeople, and liked her experience and contacts.

  “But what I’d really like to do is a series of different events. For next year, in addition to the concert, I’d like to hold an Antiques Roadshow-type day, drawing people from the surrounding mountain towns with the items they have stashed in their attics. I’d like to organize a Fall Festival with kids’ activities, a farmer’s market, sidewalk sales, and a showcase of local art. And you know we’re putting on a Christmas tree contest at the school in December this year—I’d like to expand that into a full-fledged “Christmas in McCormick’s Creek” with a fancy tea at the Inn, a Christmas petting zoo with reindeer, a parade, and the tree-decorating contest again.”

  Brandt looked around him. The entire room, including all five committee members, had their jaws on the floor.

  Then Nora Cooper began applauding and the rest of the audience joined in. Brandt did too, partly from politeness and partly because, despite himself, he was impressed. She had put in a tremendous amount of work, even if this sort of planning was second nature to her.

  But still…if they gave the grant money to her, what was he going to do? How could someone who hadn’t even been in town a month take his lifeline away? How could she blindside him by presenting an extensive plan instead of a single concert? With all that was going on between them?

  He tried to ease the knot rising in his stomach, forced his heel to quit tapping against the old wood floor, placed a careful smile on his face. No need to look like he’d just lost the war.

  The committee whispered to each other and asked Raine a few questions, then invited Howard Smith up.

  The retired mill worker shuffled to the front, creasing and re-creasing a folded paper. “I don’t have a fancy presentation, and I don’t have anybody else to chip in as a sponsor. But…”

  Howard opened his paper. “I was talking to my grandson—he’s ten—and he would love somewhere to have a skate park. There’s no place for kids to ride skateboards or bikes besides parking lots, unless they’re on roads with the cars. And we know we don’t want our kids getting hit.” He smiled widely.

  “I know it costs a lot of money, but $2000 would pay for a lot of lumber and concrete, and then we’d have volunteers build it. The kids would love it; it would keep them off the stairs and railings and sidewalks in front of businesses, and maybe some kids would use it when their families came up for one of these events.”

  “‘Course, if you give the money to the skate park, there wouldn’t be any other events, would there?” He looked down sheepishly. “Well, you know what I mean. It would be great if we could set something up.”

  Howard sat down self-consciously, and Brandt felt sorry for him. It sounded good, and McCormick’s Creek did need a place for the kids, but it really didn’t meet the grant requirements.

  Raine took Brandt’s hand as the committee filed out for their discussion, and the tension in the room rose. Mountain biking? Or concerts and all of Raine’s other projects?

  The audience chatted, excited about possibilities even if their favorite didn’t get the money. Brandt felt the warmth of Raine’s shoulder against his and squeezed her hand.

  She looked up from the floor, uncertainty all over her face.

  “I know,” he said. “I feel the same way.”

  She gave a half-smile. “I can’t sit still while I wait.” She looked at someone across the room and stood.

  He watched her walk away, wondering what she was thinking. How would she feel if he got the money? How would he feel if she did?

  But she wouldn’t. She had great ideas, sure, but his project had more long term prospects for the town. He’d help her figure things out, though. He wouldn’t let this divide them.

  “What do you think, amigo?” Javi slapped him on the back and sat on his other side. “You did a good job up there.”

  He shook his head. “Thanks. Raine gave a good presen
tation too.”

  “It was awesome, actually. But I thought she liked you.”

  Brandt was puzzled. “She does. We do. What’s that got to do with anything?”

  “It’s just…what happens if she gets the money?”

  “She won’t,” Brandt said, injecting his voice with confidence. “But I’m thinking I may need to walk softly for a while afterwards.”

  Javi grinned. “At least you don’t need to worry about Howard and the skate park!”

  Raine returned as the committee started filing in again. She drew Brandt into a hug. “We’re going to be okay, right?” she asked.

  He looked into her gorgeous green eyes. “Of course,” he answered solemnly. Competitions didn’t mean they couldn’t work through it.

  The committee members took their seats at the front, except for Evelyn Hatcher. She cleared her throat. “We want you to know that this was not an easy decision, but we are thrilled with the creative ideas you have and look forward to seeing many of them on our town calendar.”

  Many of them. But Brandt only had one.

  Doubt flooded in. His throat tightened.

  “First,” Ms. Hatcher continued, turning toward Howard, “while we appreciate your desire for a skate park, the state requires us to use this money specifically for tourism. So we would encourage you to discuss your idea with the County Parks and Recreation department.”

  She looked at Brandt and Raine, then across the room. “We have $2,493 dollars to distribute from the hospitality tax revenue around the state. However, there is nothing in our guidelines that says it all has to go to one event. Therefore…” She paused, keeping them on hold.

  “Come on, Evelyn, don’t drag it out!” someone finally called out.

  Ms. Hatcher smiled. “Sorry, I don’t get much chance to have a whole roomful of people hanging on my every word. So without further ado, we are awarding $500 to Brandt Walker to go toward his mountain bike rally, and the remaining $1993 to Raine DiMarco to put on at least two of her planned events.”

  Half the crowd cheered. The other half slumped in their chairs.

  Brandt forced his spine to stay erect, but he kept his eyes toward the front of the room and withdrew his hand from Raine’s. His stomach was roiling, his skin felt clammy. He could feel Raine’s hand on his shoulder, but there was no way he could look at her. In all his what-ifs, he’d never expected to feel so gutted, so blindingly jealous.

  “Five hundred is better than nothing, right?” Javi said after a moment.

  “Not much,” Brandt muttered.

  What was he going to do? He couldn’t risk the shop’s existence by putting his own money into it, and yet if he didn’t, his business was in jeopardy anyway. His breath came faster as panic crept up.

  People were swarming Raine, congratulating her. He stood and eased out of the crowd. No need to steal her thunder, even if she’d virtually stolen the grant from him.

  What was he going to do? The thought repeated unceasingly, and he couldn’t turn it off.

  They’d keep going on the trails, of course, but everything would be slowed down. Could he pull off maybe an introductory event of some sort? A cut down version?

  He knew that wasn’t possible. They could make it a BYOB thing, but even a small gathering of riders could be a disaster without ambulances on standby, or insurance, or even outhouses.

  He must have spoken aloud because Javi clapped him on the shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. None of us are quitters.”

  Brandt looked at him and managed a half-smile. “Right. When the going gets tough and all that.”

  And then Raine was standing in front of him, eyes glittering with excitement. “No hard feelings?”

  He tried to calm his mind. “Nope, not at all,” he lied.

  “I’m glad they split it, although I won’t be able to do as much as I had hoped,” she said. “But it gives you some starting money too. Maybe you can do a smaller event?”

  That did it. She might be the perfect event planner, but that didn’t mean she could get away with superficial assumptions. “Event size doesn’t make one iota of difference.” He could hear the bitterness in his voice. “Unlike your easy plans for the town, that ‘starting money’ won’t even cover basic insurance for me, let alone the rest of the expenses.”

  “Easy? Easy?” Raine’s voice squeaked. “If you think putting on multiple events is easy, you’re just plain clueless. Just because I’m good at my job doesn’t mean there isn’t a tremendous amount of work to do.”

  “At least you have work to do. You’ve pretty much demolished plans I’ve been working on all year.” The frustration and fear fought to the surface, and he had to work not to clench his fists or walk away.

  Raine crossed her arms. “I hate to say it, but if you’d been working all year, you’d at least have sponsors lined up by now.”

  “Just because some of us don’t have professional expertise doesn’t mean that we don’t have better ideas.”

  She was toe to toe with him now. “And just because someone thinks he can handle feelings doesn’t mean he’s not clueless.”

  Javi stepped between them. “You guys need some cooling down time. I’m off duty tonight. I really don’t want to pull my badge to break up a fight.”

  Brandt clamped his lips. “Fine.”

  Raine twisted her mouth. “Fine.”

  Javi looked between the two of them and sighed. “Come on, amigo. Let’s go grab a beer.”

  Brandt walked stiffly, forcing his hands to unclench, his shoulders to relax. He looked back as they reached the door.

  Raine was hugging her cousin, seemingly without a care in the world.

  Chapter 26

  Raine overslept the next morning and woke to Tori’s touch on her shoulder.

  “Tyler’s dressed, but he still needs breakfast,” Tori said. “Are you awake enough?”

  Raine hid her morning-breath yawn behind her hand and nodded. Tori left, and Raine finally emerged to find Tyler starting to pour milk on his cereal.

  “Hey there, big guy, let me help with that.” She rushed before the heavy gallon jug slipped from his hands.

  He looked up cheerfully. “Thanks, Raine! Want to race with me?”

  Eating cold cereal was bad enough, but eating it fast sounded revolting. “I’ll skip this time, bud.”

  Tyler put his spoon down. “Are you going to skip breakfast? Mom says that the most important meal of them all.”

  She tousled his hair. “She’s right, and I won’t skip. But sometimes I need to be up for a while before my stomach is ready for food, so I’ll eat when I get back.”

  “That’s a good decision,” Tyler said solemnly.

  Raine smiled at him as he dug into his Cheerios. At least she could make one good decision. She’d tossed half the night, aching over Brandt’s reaction to the grant award, and her words back to him. She’d known they wouldn’t be able to handle it, known she’d get hurt if things didn’t go right for him. Yet she’d continued to build a connection with him. She’d been stupid yet again, allowing herself to get close to someone when she knew there could be problems.

  She dropped Tyler at school, then returned home and started working on more Christmas flyers. She had to make sure this event came off well before she got wrapped up in next year’s plans.

  An hour later, she had designed and printed a new flyer, and printed more copies of the old one. She glanced at the clock and figured the breakfast rush at Nora’s Place would be over—time to go.

  Flyer in hand, she reached for the restaurant door only to meet Brandt coming out.

  “Oh, it’s you,” he said. “Come to gloat?”

  Raine jerked back. “How could you think that? Weren’t you the one who said we’d be able to deal with this?”

  He glared at her. “Yeah, well maybe I was wrong.”

  She softened a little and reached for his arm. “Look, Brandt, can we talk about this? Take a walk maybe? Or go to the cafe?”

  He
pulled away. “I have to open the shop. Have to pinch my pennies, can’t have Rudy working as much.”

  “I’m sure there are things I can help with. You want to do an event and I am an event planner, remember.”

  “You haven’t made it easy to forget that, have you?” He worked his jaw back and forth but didn’t say anything else.

  “Fine, then. See if I care. Evidently you’re not the only one who was mistaken about things.” She brushed by him, blinking back tears, and stood trembling in the vestibule of the restaurant.

  Raine had obviously been wrong about him. And about herself and her readiness to make decisions. She still had no discernible good judgment, and he wasn’t someone who would stick around when things got rough. He didn’t care enough to even try to work things out.

  She wiped her nose and lifted her head. So what? She could do without him. She could—and should—rebuild her life on her own. With advice from trusted people like Tori, sure, but standing on her own two feet.

  And she was doing well. She was doing good things, focusing on other people, and slowly mending fences with Robin and Ree.

  She blew her nose one more time, checked her mascara, and squared her shoulders. Time to move on.

  Robin was wiping tables down when Raine entered the main part of the restaurant.

  “Is your mom around?”

  Robin nodded. “In the kitchen. Probably cleaning up before the lunch crowd comes. You can go on back.”

  Raine pushed through the swinging double doors and approached the woman she had taken for granted as just one of her friends’ mothers. “Mrs. Cooper?”

  Nora Cooper turned from the griddle she was cleaning. “Raine. What can I do for you?”

  Raine’s professionalism disappeared, and she twisted the paper she held in her hands. Mrs. Cooper was a businesswoman, but she was also Robin’s mother. “Um, you know I’m organizing a Christmas tree contest the first weekend of December, right?”