"Some probably date back to the late 1800’s, when silver was being mined here, before copper, and Silver Creek was a boomtown. Is that historic enough?"
Lacy looked around and spoke slowly."We could advertise with 'Make an investment in Silver Creek's future'. The buildings could provide places for businesses, potential tourist attractions, locations for the farmer’s market and day camp. People love the Old West. I believe they’ll come, if we build it."
"Make Silver Creek a touristy place like Tombstone?" Sandy scoffed.
"Working replicas. Buildings that function and provide historical information. Or whatever you think would be good uses for them. Businesses, archives, libraries, museums, theaters—anything. All around the square. Everything we need in town to liven it up."
"Especially restaurants," Lena added. "Good food always brings in people."
"We could probably get plenty of community support for renovating, especially from the old-timers," Annie said hopefully. "I hear there was a time when the Mexican rebel Pancho Villa roamed these hills."
"But there was some higher culture here, too," Lena said. "Remember those singing Lopez sisters whose wealthy father opened an opera house? That building’s crumbling now, but it used to be quite beautiful. I'll bet there would be plenty of folks who'd open businesses in those buildings if they were decent."
Sandy lifted her dark hair to get some air on her neck. "We'd have to hire someone to fix them up."
"Exactly." Lacy watched the group's reaction to each step of her proposal. "We have enough money to hire someone and to begin the renovation. Meantime, we continue to apply for more state and federal funds to finish the job. When one building is finished, we could offer an incentive for a business establishment, like rent-free for a year or reduced taxes or something."
"Sounds like you already have a plan, Lacy," Sandy said.
"Are we in agreement with this plan?" Lacy asked. "Annie? What about you?"
"If you think there are real profits for Silver Creek in the project."
"I definitely do." Lacy stood and gave the group a satisfied smile. "I'll admit we have a long way to go, but it's a start. A good one. Now, do I have your permission to hire someone for the renovation?"
"Yes, go ahead," the committee agreed in unison.
"I'll place the ad today," Lacy said. "Annie, would you draw up some plans for the Co-op and Farmer's Market? Lena, look into who owns that hot springs outside of town and what it would take to get it open to the public. Sandy, work with Maxine on a summer and after school plan. Thank you ladies, for coming, and for your input. Next meeting in two weeks."
Annie waited until she and Lacy were alone. "I’m really proud of all you're doing, Lacy. I'll talk to the others farmers in my area about the co-op. I love the idea of a farmer’s market."
"Do you think you can keep up with the demand?" Lacy asked.
"Sure. I’ll just have to hire more workers." Annie looked at her steadily and flipped her long hair back on one side.
Lacy tightened her lips. "Just make sure they’re all legal."
"Now why would you say that, Lacy? I know the law."
She shrugged. "There were rumors, Annie. . . about your aunt."
"Well, they’re unfounded and untrue. Besides, I am not my aunt." Annie's brown eyes snapped with anger and she left in an angry sweep.
Lacy felt like a jerk. Annie's aunt had a history of hiring illegal workers. Everyone knew that. Only rumors, though.
She sat back down at her desk and looked over her notes. Maybe they’d made some progress today. Maybe there were a few good ideas. Maybe they could pull their own bootstraps up and somehow dance into success. Maybe. . . she bit her lip. Were they clinging to false hopes? Wistful thinking? Should she do like the others, the smart ones, who laughed at her folly and bailed out of town when the mining company closed. Like Colin Tate , her one-time lover?
If Lacy had one strong quality, only one, it was that she was driven to succeed. If she left town now, it would be admitting defeat, and she couldn’t face that again.
CHAPTER TWO
A week later, Holt Henderson pretended to fight the steering wheel to stay on the grueling, curvy road. He made car noises, straight from the kids' car movies, to the amusement of his little daughter. Sofia squealed with delight at every curve and made her own car noises.
The old highway had been bypassed for a more modern and direct route west, abandoning Silver Creek and other small towns along the way. And when the copper mine closed last year, everything went to hell, from what he’d read. Family men had to leave town to make a living. And the women were trying to hang onto their properties because they couldn't afford to walk away.
Holt actually thought Silver Creek held potential and promised a future for him. Silver Creek had a job just right for him. Silver Creek was – he rounded a curve and his destination came into sight – a dusty, empty little town, off the beaten path. He sighed audibly. He'd hoped this was a town that he and Sofia would like. Now, on seeing it, he had doubts. Damned ramshackle place.
If it weren't for Sofia, he'd probably head for Oregon or Alaska. Someplace. . . faraway, distant, remote. But his darling daughter was growing up, starting school, and needed a stable home life. No more apartments and moving with every new job.
They had driven into town early, to canvass the area and make their own evaluation before the job interview. They found the city's business section limited, with many stores boarded or simply closed and locked. The historical section formed a square around the old courthouse. As expected, it was in ruins.
Silver Creek's quiet residential area was composed of once-beautiful stucco houses with turn-of-the- century gingerbread trim decorating the eaves and columned front porches. Most needed paint and repair. When they drove through the neighborhood, Holt noticed Sofia staring curiously at the clusters of children playing in the neat little yards. "What do you think, princess?"
She returned his gaze with a hopeful smile that revealed two missing front teeth. "Are we going to live here, Daddy? Can we grow flowers? And have a puppy? Do they have an ice cream store?"
"I have to get a job, first. That's why we came here today."
"And you brought me so I could help you get a job?"
Holt laughed. "You just leave that part up to me, princess."
Sofia was a secure child who seemed to think that life with Daddy was an adventure, no matter where they were. He tried to make sure that she knew he would always there for her. She didn't remember her mother and didn't seem to miss having one, although sometimes she talked about a "mommy." Holt had no intention of replacing the mother of his daughter, although many had tried. He just wasn't interested in other women, not seriously anyway.
Holt drove back to the courthouse and parked on the nearly empty street. He surveyed the aging brick building as he helped Sofia out of the Jeep."Coloring book?"
"Check."
"Crayons?"
"Check. In my purse." She tucked the coloring book under her arm, held the little purse like a big girl, and tried to keep up with her father's long strides.
Holt paused momentarily, his attention diverted by two kids playing basketball on the school playground next door. The scene kindled memories of matching shots with his brothers when they were kids in El Paso.
Holt and Sofia watched as one of the boys dribbled the basketball behind him, switching hands on the ball without missing a step. Then he moved around to approach the basket from the other side. With a graceful sweep of one arm, he dunked the ball then leaped high to recover the rebound.
"Good shot!" Holt yelled and raised a fist. Sofia mimicked her dad.
The kid waved and grinned with pride.
Holt chuckled and pressed forward again, Sofia in tow. He realized the presence of a six-year-old on a job interview wasn't very professional, but her sitter had gotten ill at the last minute. What else was he to do?
"Can I stay and watch the game, Daddy?" She hung back, tuggin
g on Holt's large hand.
"You'd better come with me. You can wait in the office while I talk to the mayor about a job."
"Then ice cream?"
"Sure, princess."
Holt stepped through warped double doors of the courthouse, wondering if this was a good beginning or a bad decision. The hallway smelled musty and old and was badly in need of some paint. The stifling air wasn't much cooler than outside. Holt climbed the creaky wooden stairs, thinking how he’d restore them to functional beauty.
Sofia followed, jumping and dancing on each step. "Oh look Daddy, a black kitty! Can I pet her?"
By the time he looked around, the cat was gone. "Come with me. Sofia." He was tense, losing patience with her.
Inside the mayor's office, a rickety air conditioner sputtered in one window, emitting a spritz of cool air and dripping a small stream of water beneath it into a plastic bucket.
Silver Creek's courthouse had definitely seen better days, just like the rest of the town. Given the wobbly economy, seeking a job here might be risky. But it was a position he couldn't resist. The minute he saw the ad, he knew he had to go for it. Renovating a historic district in an old mining town was a rare opportunity and for him, a treat.
"Mr. Henderson?"
Holt turned and gazed into the face of a knockout red-head with a pale complexion and a smattering of faint freckles across the bridge of her nose. She looked like someone who'd grab your hand and eagerly romp through a field of wildflowers. Holt stared at her for a moment, enjoying the fantasy. She smiled down at Sofia, then turned her attention back to him.
"I'm Lacy Donahue." She extended her slender hand.
Holt took her cool hand and was tempted to hold it a little too long. "You’re the mayor?"
"Yes, that's me."
Her smile warmed him like the summer sun. He could smell her perfume, an unusual spicy fragrance that made him feel slightly heady.
"It's just that a town like this…"
"A town like what?" Lacy’s eyes reminded him of rare blue opals, delicate and rare.
"Well, it's so... historic and old. I expected a bunch of. . ."
She laughed. "Antiques, like our buildings?"
"Something like that." Holt's gaze drifted over her casually ruffled red hair. She had a special energy, a clear spark of youth that was contagious. Yet there was a regal attitude about her that attested she was clearly in charge.
Sofia chose that moment to tug on Holt's pant leg. He looked down with an expression that revealed he'd forgotten all about his daughter while talking with the hot, red-haired mayor. "This is my – "
"Daddy, I’m sorry to press your buttons, but can I go to the potty here?" she whispered loudly.
Holt inhaled slowly. Back to reality. "Uh, I'm sure." He gave Lacy a weary look. "My daughter, Sofia. Could she use your, uh—"
"Of course." Lacy turned a gentle smile toward the child and stretched out her hand. "Come with me, Sofia."
They started into her office, and Lacy looked back. "Come on in the office, Mr. Henderson."
"Holt."
"Holt. Have a seat there." She pointed at the chair in front of the desk and continued with Sofia who chattered happily with the mayor.
"Are you going to give my daddy a job?"
"I don't know," Lacy said noncommittally. "We'll see."
"That's what my dad says when he's not going to do something."
"It's often what adults say when they haven't decided yet." She opened a door on the other side of her office. "In here."
"Thank you. I can go in alone."
A few minutes later, the independent Sofia was settled with her book and crayons and Lacy took a seat behind the desk. "She's charming."
"Talks too much." Holt had learned his lesson about bringing Sofia along. He should have known better. But still, they were in this together. It was time for Sofia to learn what daddy had to do in order for them to eat.
He liked looking at the mayor. What’s not to like about a dynamite red-head with awesome blue eyes? She wore a blouse and skirt that revealed some womanly curves and very nice legs. Her spicy fragrance negated the old-building smell in her office, and she seemed to radiate energy through the room. He liked that.
There was one troubling factor. She seemed a little too intense, sitting on the edge of her seat like that. She brought too much big city stress to this achingly small town. He mentally considered some ways that he might help her unwind. Holt leaned back to enjoy the next hour, even if he didn’t get the job.
Lacy sat primly at her desk and opened Holt Henderson's application. Of the three applicants Lacy had interviewed, this man was the best qualified for the job. His experience in antique remodeling was extensive, and his background in architectural history was a definite plus for their needs.
It hadn't escaped her notice that he was a good-looking hunk with eyes the color of warm chocolate and brown hair with a few natural highlights. He had nice muscles in all the right places. He was the kind of man who would look just as impressive in a pair of work jeans and a T-shirt as he did in the navy blazer and tan slacks he'd worn for the interview. His hands were large, working-hands and that always impressed her.
There were so few men around town she'd forgotten the breathtakingly overpowering feeling when testosterone dominated a room. And as sentimental as it seemed, Lacy didn't mind that he'd brought along his little girl. It showed a tender and responsible side to the man.
"Tell me about your historical projects," she began.
"I worked in Florida, Georgia and California for several years after college. We were a small organization, hired specifically for historic renovations. As you might imagine, work was sporadic, and we had to travel to jobs. Eventually, the company fell apart as various members of our team married and settled down. I tried to continue alone, most recently a project in Tucson, but with the latest market slump, it's been impossible. Now I'm starting fresh. By myself."
Lacy could certainly relate to starting fresh. She was intrigued with the man, his voice, his sincerity.
Sofia walked over to her father and leaned on one of his legs. "How much longer, Daddy?"
"Sofia." His voice turned firm. "We just started to talk. Remember what I said. You should have a seat and wait. You have your book and crayons."
"Is she pushing your buttons, too, Daddy?"
Holt’s eyes widened and he took a quick breath.
Lacy broke in with a laugh. "Sofia, you are very observant little girl. Let’s all take a walk around the neighborhood."
"Can we get an ice cream cone?"
"Sorry honey, we don’t have an ice cream store." Another thing to add to the list of needs, she thought.
"Well, you should have one, because my daddy promised me ice cream if I’d quit pushing his buttons."
Holt looked miserable and shifted uncomfortably. He gestured with one hand and this time, Lacy noticed the calluses. Impressive hands. "I, uh, my sitter got sick this morning. I had no alternative but to bring Sofia along."
"She's fine," Lacy said. "So, if the job works out, you plan to move here?"
"Absolutely. I’d like to know about your schools. Sofia starts first grade this year."
"And I can already read," Sofia said.
"I’m not surprised," Lacy said with a genuine smile.
Lacy found herself accumulating reasons for hiring Holt Henderson. Some of the reasons had less to do with his work skills and more to do with just plain liking him. His experience. His hands. His kid. And he had an easy style that made him appealing. She envisioned the committee—the whole town, in fact—falling in love with Holt Henderson, figuratively speaking.
"What do you think about the future of Silver Creek now that our major industry has pulled out? Does that concern you?"
Holt folded one leg so that his ankle rested on the opposite knee. One large hand circled that ankle. "Sure. I'd be lying if I told you it didn't. But, given its potential, this town should be able to survive. I'd
like to be a part of that, especially if it's related to the renovation of your historical section."
"Are we going to walk or just sit here pushing buttons?" Sofia said with childish impatience.
"Sofia Marie – " Holt’s voice was tense.
Lacy stood. "How about if we all take a little tour of the historic district?"
They walked out of the old courthouse to a grass-infested, broken-brick sidewalk that led to the time-ravaged historic section. Vague remnants of patios existed among the weeds, bricks crumbled from slanting walls and paint chipped from weathered gray boards. Lacy knew it looked like a disaster area and just hoped Holt could see the potential.
"Look! It’s that black kitty again!" Sofia pointed and the adults looked, but saw nothing. They ignored her outburst.
Lacy didn't try to hide her dismay. "Some people around here have recommended that we raze this area and install a community swimming pool. They think these old buildings are more trouble and expense than they're worth."
"I think that would be a major mistake." Holt moved ahead of Lacy, caught up in the experience of examining the various structures. "It would be a real tragedy to lose these beautiful buildings." He made a sweeping gesture. "Where are you going to find such diversity in historic design? Right here, in our sight, we have adobe, mission revival, territorial, even a columned Greek revival, all embraced in the Mexican colonial towns and preserved here."
Lacy was impressed with his knowledge but more interested in his enthusiasm. She paused in front of the Greek revival building. "This was a bank. They say Pancho Villa and his gang of revolutionaries hid out here one night."
Under The Desert Sky (Desert Sky Series) Page 2