Her Unexpected Hero--A Clean Romance

by Cheryl Harper

  He sniffed. “Don’t need an advisor for decisions like that, hon. I make my own decisions, shoot from the hip and let the chips fall.” He tapped the nameplate in the center of his desk. “Voters liked that well enough last time. I’m gonna let that bet ride this time around.”

  So, no was the answer to her question about serving as an advisor.

  Which meant she’d be facing the firing squad over and over, trying to spin whatever nonsense he’d spouted while he was “shooting from the hip.” At least Whit and Ash, the two men she’d spent most of her life coaching on what to say, listened when she talked.

  Richard Duncan seemed half a second from patting her on the head and sending her on her way. Regardless, it was definitely time to go.

  “Thank you for your kind offer, Governor Duncan. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to give this some consideration. I’d hoped to have a chance to affect policy.” Winter realized as she said the words that it was the truth. That’s what she was missing. With Whit, the two of them had discussed issues and every decision had been based on careful judgment and weighing the benefits versus the costs. With Richard Duncan “shooting from the hip,” nothing would be studied the same way. Every issue would be decided based on emotion and prejudice and which group yelled the loudest and longest. “My version of politics is about service, not being served. That’s what I could bring to the right campaign.”

  Richard Duncan tipped back his head. “Oh, you’re one of those. An idealist.” He nodded slowly. “Of course you are. Talking your way into a meeting with the governor.” His eyes were big. “That’s the kind of thing only young people or foolishly passionate people will attempt.” He pointed at Winter. “On you, it looks good. When you’re ready to get real, you give me a call. We can work something out. What do you say?”

  Winter was so surprised by the softening from his initial bluster that she wasn’t sure what to say. She offered him her hand again. “Thank you for your time, Governor. I owe Nia a big thank-you. This meeting has cleared up some things for me.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “That Whit Callaway must be a fool. The boy had a good thing going and threw it away for what?”

  Flattery. And even though it was coming from the worst kind of public servant, it still felt good. What was wrong with her?

  “One thing you’re forgetting, Governor, is that you weren’t running against Whit Callaway last time. He’s smarter than you give him credit for, with or without me. He made a mistake, focused on the money instead of the promise. You’re making the same mistakes.” Winter met his stare head-on. There was no need to sugarcoat it. Richard Duncan, the career politician, would appreciate Whit’s motivation. And there was zero chance he was listening to her free advice. “It’ll take a lot to bring down the sitting governor in this current climate, but the Callaways aren’t afraid of playing and they have the big budget to back that up.”

  He whistled. “Now, you said a mouthful there. I’ve got some good fund-raising, but who can match a family with enough money to go their own way. No lobbyists or special interests required. It’s a true luxury to be able to make a platform without those burdens.” His assessing study convinced Winter that he was smarter than his front-page coverage indicated. Duncan could be shaped into a winner with the right policy adjustments.

  But did she want to take on that job? Did she want to make a reasonable, rational, likable human being out of the guy who’d just acted and sounded like that?

  Lipstick on a pig came to mind.

  The fact that she could hear it in her mother’s voice was almost all the confirmation that she needed to escape far and fast.

  “Governor, I should be going. It’s a long drive back to Sweetwater.” Winter stood and turned toward the door without offering him her hand. That should be enough of a signal to him that she’d already decided.

  “Don’t forget to give Nia a call when you’re ready to join a real political campaign, even from the sidelines. She can patch you through to me.” Richard Duncan didn’t stand or follow her to the door. He was lounging in his seat, a man comfortable with his place in the world.

  His relaxed posture made her want to poke some holes in his campaign or...him. It was a terrible sign.

  Leaving without speaking her mind was hard, but seeing Nia’s friendly smile made it easier. How did she stand working next to Duncan? “How did it go?”

  Mindful of the kindness Nia had done in order to help an acquaintance, Winter answered, “The governor and I had a good talk, really cleared some things up for me. I can’t thank you enough for giving me this shot to speak to him in person. This has been a big help.” It had.

  “You moving to Nashville, then?” Nia asked. “I’d be happy to help make some calls to find places close to the capitol.”

  The suggestion almost shocked Winter into recoiling.

  That knee-jerk reaction was enough to convince her that whatever she decided to do, it would happen in east Tennessee. Nashville wasn’t home.

  “I’ll be in touch when I know something certain.” Winter patted Nia’s shoulder and waved toward the elevator. “I better get on the road if I want to make it home before dark. Thanks again.”

  She was careful to greet everyone she passed with a smile. The way politics worked was that friends and enemies lurked in plain sight, but it was almost impossible to tell which was which without the benefit of hindsight.

  Carefully ducking the news crew gathered on the steps took some maneuvering, and Winter was happy to make the long trek back to the car. The more distance she put between herself and Richard Duncan, the better she felt.

  That was why she and Whit had been so good together. He’d trusted no one while Winter was careful to give almost everyone the benefit of some doubt.

  Giving the report anonymously to Richard Duncan had been an example of hoping the man in charge of Tennessee’s government actually cared about the things he said he did. He’d cared enough to have his campaign photos taken at Otter Lake. He’d also cared enough to take up the cause of halting destruction at The Aerie, as long as it benefitted him.

  Whit might have done the same thing if she’d been able to phrase the argument correctly.

  How hard had she tried?

  Deep in thought, Winter barely noticed that she’d trudged back to her parking spot. She slipped the too-tight heels off with a sigh and then started the car. The drive back to Sweetwater would be long enough to figure out what she wanted, but the truth was she didn’t need time. If she trusted her mother and her philosophy about the skeeves, she already knew her decision. She’d been right about the gray-goop shampoo.

  And Winter was pretty sure she was right about Richard Duncan.

  Not that she’d tell her mother that without being tortured or the threat of returning to the original lavender-scented messy hair.

  “So instead of worrying, turn up the radio, Winter Rose Kingfisher.” That sounded a lot like her mother’s voice, too. Again, she was perfectly correct, so Winter found a classic-rock station and gave the volume knob a twist. She’d sing at the top of her lungs and the trip would fly by.

  AS SHE PULLED into town, Winter noticed the lights were blazing at Sweetwater Souvenir. Leanne was seated behind the counter at the cash register. She’d made it back to town ten minutes before closing time.

  And she didn’t want to go home to tell her mother how right she’d been about what a waste of time and miles the drive to meet with Richard Duncan had been, so she parked in front of the store.

  After four hours in the car each way, not even the nice lunch she’d enjoyed could lift her spirits.

  The bright space of Sweetwater Souvenir might do the job.

  “Well, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you didn’t get the job.” Leanne was leaning against the counter, what appeared to be a stack of catalogs at her elbow. Even after a full day at the shop all by herself,
her smile was warm and welcoming.

  “How did you know it was a job interview?” The better question was how did she know Duncan had offered her the job she’d been strategizing to get ever since she’d pushed Whit into a puddle of water in front of the town of Sweetwater.

  Leanne raised her eyebrows. “Come on, Winter. Don’t play dumb. And I know you got an offer. The man would be a fool not to make one. What I can’t tell is how you responded? I don’t see a happy glow.”

  Winter was certain her face was grim with more grim piled on top. She stepped out of her heels with a sigh and wished for a comfy chair. “You ever had the experience where you fight and you fight to get what you want and then someone is prepared to hand it to you, and everything about the situation feels too wrong to accept.” She ran her hand through her hair, pleased at how well her mother’s goop was holding up to a long day. “Taking means you win, of course. If you can ignore the wrongness. And the fact that the person you’re defeating never stood a chance. Should I hope that I can turn things around?” She’d been able to guide Whit into agreement. For some reason, she was certain the tactics that worked with him would sail right over the head of Richard Duncan. “Or admit defeat.”

  At this point, defeat would be a gift. She wanted to sleep for seven full days and wake up a new person.

  “What does losing look like?” Leanne asked. “Sometimes it’s the best thing that can happen, you know?”

  “True.” Winter covered her face with her hands, determined to gain some control.

  Leanne reached across the counter. “You’re tired.” Her lips curled but her eyes were filled with compassion. That compassion made it twice as hard for Winter to stand on her own two feet, so she gripped Leanne’s hand. Hard. “You don’t have to do anything tonight, do you? No big decisions required?”

  Winter shook her head, her throat working against ridiculous tears. What would crying serve? Even if she was facing the end of her hopes for political service for at least the near future, crying about it changed nothing.

  Leanne squeezed her hand. “Here’s the good news. I have been where you are. I once worked hard to get a good man to marry me. Schemed. I did things I shouldn’t have, but I got exactly what I wanted.” She bent her head down. “And then all that scheming and bending myself into corners I should never have been in blew up in my face. More than once, because after you compromise on what you know to be true, you have to continue making bad choices or whatever you’re holding on to is going to fall to pieces. I was lucky to survive it, but I’m telling you, I will not make that mistake again.” She huffed out an exasperated breath. “I have so many other mistakes to make, why cover old ground?” She waited until Winter laughed. “Come on. I’m not as good at this as Macy or Christina, but that was a pretty funny piece of commentary.”

  Winter nodded. “It was. And you’re not doing so bad this go-around, are you? That mistake brought you two great kids that you can’t stop talking about. And you’re about to be a famous artist, after all.”

  The smile instantly disappeared and Winter regretted teasing Leanne. She didn’t want to be in the spotlight.

  “Well, locally famous.” Leanne cleared her throat. “Although Miss Janet is a powerhouse of creative sales ideas. I could be looking at a worldwide tour unless I figure out how to throw on the brakes soon.” The color in her cheeks was impossible to ignore. “I hope no one who gets behind me regrets it. I meant what I said. I’m not through messing up.”

  “I know what you mean.” Winter understood her fear. If she passed on this job, her parents would be happy, but what about when she never found another way to prove herself? How long would their happiness last when she was living at home and collecting her pitiful reserve retirement check? “I don’t want to go home. Where can we go for dinner?”

  Leanne perked up immediately. “I’m so glad you asked. I was mentally exploring my empty refrigerator and trying to convince myself that I didn’t need to order a pizza from The Branch.” She waggled her eyebrows. “But if I were entertaining, I’d have to do that. Because the cupboards are bare. I hate grocery shopping so much I’ll eat green beans and scrambled eggs for dinner to put it off. Different story, of course, when I have my kids.” She raised both hands at Winter’s gagging expression. “I know. It’s so silly, but after so many years of never being able to afford to buy what I wanted, I am overwhelmed by the choices. When we were married, Brett got so tired of inching along the aisles that he took over the shopping. I made lists. He followed them.” She sighed. “That was one of those benefits of married life that no one tells you about.”

  Winter was trying to frame a delicate question about whether Leanne missed that kind of life or Brett, the man. It was delicate because Christina, Leanne’s best friend, was head over heels with Leanne’s ex.

  Leanne hooted a loud laugh. “If you could see your face.”

  Winter immediately straightened and decided it was none of her business how Leanne felt or what sort of soap-opera shouting might happen behind the scenes.

  “The thing about falling out of love with someone is that it doesn’t always have to be full of bitterness and hate.” Leanne closed her eyes. “Okay, maybe for a minute or two, it has to be, but then you understand that he’s a good man who loves his kids and deserves to be happy. If he’s also the kind of lucky rat that picks the one woman in the world you’d go to war for, it takes another minute to wrap your head around it, but forgiving is easy when you love someone.” She crossed her arms. “That’s my story, anyway. Do I forget my highly evolved feelings? Every now and then, but nothing would let me hurt Christina because of it. We’ve been through too much together for that, and she’d die for my kids. That matters.”

  Winter wondered if she’d be able to move on the way Leanne had. The hurt she was nursing over Whit, a man who’d never been what Brett had to Leanne, seemed petty. They’d been friends, nothing more, and he’d made a mistake.

  For that matter, she had, too. Underhanded tactics were never the right decision.

  “There’s life after divorce.” Winter nodded slowly. “And stupid, public breakups. Good to know.”

  “Am I helping?” Leanne flexed both arms. “I’m actually helping! It feels good. Like you have no idea how good. For a long time, I was a bad mother and a bad friend. I was forgiven. Now I’m going to go around preaching the message of second chances. And it feels go-o-ood.” She drew out the last word.

  “You have helped. You’re a go-o-ood friend.” Winter mimicked her delivery of “good” while Leanne preened and laughed. “Tomorrow, I’ll be better. Forget Whit. Forget Richard Duncan.”

  Leanne held up her hand for a high five. “In your situation, it’s the only way to win. It’s not easy. You don’t just make the decision once. You gotta do it every day, every minute the urge to settle into hurt or anger or bitterness hits. Shut it down and skip away. I’ll remind you because I am a professional at forgetting my own good advice but I’m learning to enjoy telling other people how to live their lives. You do you and let the jerks of the world regret their choices, you know?”

  That was the piece she was missing: repetition. She’d already told herself to do everything Leanne said, but then she forgot. Lighter and freer at the suggestion and Leanne’s promise to help, Winter pointed at the clock hanging behind the counter. “Closing time.”

  Leanne snagged the keys off the counter. “I’ll lock up. Then we’ll call in an order and ask Astrid if she wants to join us for a dumb television movie. I’m thinking car crashes or alien invasion, a nice ‘end of the world by ice age’ flick. What do you say?” She didn’t wait for Winter’s answer but trotted around to the front door. “You’re in. I can tell.”

  Leanne bent to pick up her shoes and studied the scuff marks on the bottom. She’d done some important walking in these shoes.

  They weren’t going back to the capital, not while Richard Duncan w
as there, anyway.

  That meant letting go of her revenge plan completely. Didn’t it?

  Whit Callaway was twice the man his opponent was, even if his blind allegiance to his father led to some spectacular fails.

  And Caleb Callaway had treated her with respect and rescued her when she needed it most, after she’d made the cowardly decision to fight anonymously. His help had stopped a bad situation from getting worse, and she’d always appreciate what he’d done. Tomorrow she was going to make a turnaround. Instead of leaning on Caleb to put everything right, she was going to pitch in. This lodge had to be finished. Even from her spot outside the hustle and bustle of a campaign, she could help. It would be easy enough, but she was the only one who could fix the mess she’d created.

  She might not understand how Caleb could dislike Sweetwater so much, but she knew him. Not the outside picture of the rich guy who dabbled in work, but the man who’d stepped up when he was needed, over and over.

  Callaways weren’t Kingfishers, didn’t share the same ideals, but they weren’t afraid to lead in tough situations. That was admirable, no matter what else was going on.

  At this point, getting even with the Callaways seemed like a stupid idea in the first place. They had money and power, and if she was honest, the right ideas on their side.

  Where did that leave her?

  Struggling in Sweetwater.

  “I have sweatpants you can borrow. That suit is making me uncomfortable.” Leanne pointed at the hidden staircase behind a white panel door. “Let’s go?”

  The struggle could wait for sunrise. Tonight, Leanne, greasy Branch pizza and aliens at the end of the world were going to save Winter.

  CHAPTER NINE

  CALEB WAS RUNNING about twenty seconds late when he drove into the parking lot at the bottom of the trail that led up to The Aerie. Since he’d never been much for hiking and it was the steepest, rockiest climb in the reserve, he expected a workout and only caffeine and Odella’s baked goods would pull him through.