"That's what I came to tell you. She's visiting Mrs. Carson now. I wanted to make sure they hit it off, just the two of them. But I like the lady a lot."
"Mrs. Carson's extremely capable. I'm sure she's lonely. And can use the money from a little job. That's one reason I figured she would be a good choice."
"When I left them, they were making a huge batch of chocolate chip cookies. Sofia was in heaven."
Lacy rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. "Sounds like they're a good fit."
"Everyone around here seems to be related or know almost everything about each other. Word travels fast." Holt's gaze traveled to the tip of Lacy's freckled nose down to her dirty jeans. "That must be hard on a mayor's private life."
"It could be, I suppose. If the mayor had a private life." Lacy stuffed the plug of rosemary into a plastic bag.
"But, if the mayor were unmarried, she... or he, might want to keep some things private."
She bent and dug out a healthy section of another plant. "Here's some parsley for you. It grows well here, too."
Holt sat on a brick step and absently pulled on a nearby plant. "Speaking of keeping things private, Lacy, about last night—"
"Please don't pull that up! It's an herb. Dill."
He examined the feathery plant in his hand. "Sorry, it looks like a weed."
"Smell it."
He sniffed it and grinned in recognition. "Ah, dill pickles. Distinctly dill."
"As I said."
"You make your own dill pickles?"
She shook her head. "There are many other uses for the dill herb besides pickles. It's great with lamb or fish. Gives chicken and vegetables a spark. I have a dill bread recipe that's absolutely wonderful."
"You take this stuff seriously, don't you? So all this is your herb garden? Sure smells good out here."
She shrugged. "I needed something to enhance my limited culinary skills. With a few sprinkles of dried dill or rosemary, plain baked chicken becomes gourmet. As I learned more about herbs and started growing them, I developed a real taste for the stronger flavors of fresh herbs. It wasn't until later that I got into edible flowers. It's really fun to watch guests' expressions when I serve a nasturtium salad or pansies on basil and green beans."
He looked shocked. "Hold it. You eat flowers, too?"
"Would you like to try a pansy?" She stood and dusted her hands together. "Or maybe a nasturtium. That’s a good place to start."
"No. No, thank you. I'll stick to regular food." He looked at her quizzically. "No wonder you brought us such weird pizza yesterday. We're lucky you didn't add a few of your flowers."
She grinned. "The kids might have taken to flowers more readily than those black olives."
"I doubt it." He moved slowly through the plants."You are, indeed, one interesting lady. Which brings me back to last night."
"Look, Holt, we were both tired. I shouldn't have fallen asleep on your bed. And perhaps you shouldn't have kissed me. Frankly, I would appreciate it if you'd keep it to yourself. It wouldn't look very good for the mayor to be in bed with a new employee, would it?" She was pleading, something she hated to do.
"Only because what happened between us was private and personal. I'm a very private guy and don't give a damn what others think. And I'm not apologizing for kissing Her Honor. I only regret there wasn't time – or energy – for more."
"Holt please, you hardly know me."
"I know enough for a beginning. How about if we go to dinner sometime? Get to know each other better."
Her response was immediate. "No, I think not." It seemed that the attraction she'd felt for him had been mutual. But she couldn't let it develop any further. She had to call a halt to this before it started.
He raised his eyebrows. "That was certainly a quick no. Is this a general policy from the mayor's office? No consideration for both sides?"
"Yes, actually. It's one of my firm rules." She fiddled with the plastic bag of herbs she'd fixed for him. "Never date employees."
"That isn’t difficult. Most of them are female. Or over seventy-five."
"It isn't professional."
"Neither is helping an employee move in. Or taking him and his daughter to the emergency room. Or staying with his daughter while he returns the moving truck." Holt moved closer to her. "But it's especially unprofessional for the mayor to make a male employee's bed and fall asleep on it." He stuffed his hands in his pockets, as if he had to contain them. "I'd call those actions perfectly innocent for anyone besides the mayor. Unless the mayor is really very human, as you said."
She gave him a reluctant smile and shrugged.
He took a couple of steps and was suddenly close, so close she could breathe his earthy, male fragrance. His was an aroma that appealed to her and made her senses accelerate dangerously. It made her think erotic thoughts of men and women, of her and Holt. Deep inside, she wanted to do sensuous things with him. She had the panicky feeling of losing control of her tight emotions.
One large hand slid over hers. "You can deny it all you want to, Mayor, but it's here. Something between us. I feel it. And so do you. Maybe it's the sparks you mentioned." His words dwindled away as his lips closed over hers, and he kissed her fully and firmly on the mouth.
She swayed dizzily, not believing this was happening in her own backyard, broad daylight, under the desert sky. Yet she was unable – or unwilling – to break away. His lips conveyed a message and hers received it, loud and clear. She feared she was transmitting the same message. But she couldn't help it.
When he finally broke the heated contact, she felt heady. There was power in his kiss, and in her response. Her imagination raged wildly, even as she protested. She shook her head for emphasis. "Holt—"
He touched her bottom lip with his finger. "Now, deny that, Your Honor."
"No, Holt. We can't-"
"I'm afraid we already have, Lacy. About last night, you were right. The mayor is human." He paused to stroke her cheek with his thumb. "She's warm, sensitive, receptive, and can kiss like a dream." He took the plastic bag of herbs from her limp hand and strode to the gate. Before walking through it, he turned around. "You haven't heard the last of this. I don't give up easily on something that interests me— and you interest me, Mayor."
Before she could find her voice, he was gone.
Although Lacy would have preferred a little distance from this man who dominated her thoughts and stimulated her imagination, she and Holt were together frequently. She felt that getting him established was part of her job. First thing Monday morning, she showed him his office. It was right across the hall from hers.
"Hope you don't mind sharing with our Economic Development Department." Lacy flipped on a couple of lights. "It’s the only room on this floor besides mine that's equipped with phone and computer hook-ups."
Holt surveyed the long, narrow office, which was large enough for several desks. There were only two, so the place looked stark and empty. "This is Economic Development? Desperately in need of – everything."
"It's a small department consisting of one. She's creating her job as she goes along. We figured there was no sense in keeping the whole building going if we weren't using it, so we cut the electricity in the unused portions of the courthouse." She glanced at him hopefully. "Holt, we're a struggling town. That means we don't have the funds for excess expenses. The head of Economic Development is donating her time. Mine is a minimal salary, not satisfactory for a family. That's the kind of dedication we have around here."
"Sure. I understand. And I don't mind sharing. This office is fine. I won't be in it much, anyway. There's plenty of room for both of us." He rubbed his hands together as he walked to the windows that lined the opposite wall. "Nice view."
"You can observe the historic district from this office and oversee the progress of your work."
"And watch my jeep, too."
She shrugged. "Hopefully that's not necessary."
"Well, I won't be doing much overseeing.
As the only member of my department, I’ll be out there working." His gaze swept the room again. "I would like a drawing table, in addition to a desk, though. And a better lighting system."
"See Annie about those things." Lacy backed to the door. "I have to attend a meeting right now. If you need anything, just ask Annie."
"Is Annie the secretary?"
"She's the Economic Development Department." Lacy looked back over her shoulder with a grin. "Annie's a wheeler-dealer extraordinaire. She got an air conditioner donated to my office when mine broke and we had no funds to cover a new one. Oh incidentally, we don't have secretaries. Hope you can type."
Holt shook his head. "Don't need to," he mumbled, already speculating on his bare-bones work situation. Before he even had a chance to check out his desk, clunking sounds and the rustle of papers accompanied a feminine groan. A woman with long blond hair pulled back in a pony tail, wearing a University of Arizona cap and big turquoise earrings struggled through the door, her arms loaded with bags and boxes.
"Here, let me help you." Automatically he reached out, and she dumped the whole mess in his arms.
"Thanks. Just put them over here." She led the way to one of the desks and scooted everything else aside. "This job gets more and more curious. Never thought I'd be inspecting pot holders and hand-painted tea towels and Granny's knitting, but here I am." She gave him a wide smile and extended her hand. "I'm Annie. We met over pie."
"Oh yeah, Annie. Best apple pie I've ever had. What – green chilies?" He shook her hand, delighted by this whirlwind who smelled like cinnamon. She had the brownest eyes, like walnuts, and her hair, while mostly hidden by the baseball cap, showed traces of blondness. A woman of contrasts, he thought.
"The pie was good because my apples are the best in the southwest."
He grinned. "I don't doubt that for a minute."
"Did you get all moved in all right?"
"Oh yes, thanks to Lacy and others in town. Very generous folks around here."
"Hope you don't mind sharing this space with me. I'm only here three half days a week. Otherwise, I have an apple orchard to run."
He walked around, examining the desk that would be his. "I won't be here much, either. I’m supposed to see you about supplies. I need a drawing desk, stool, and lamp."
"I’ll make a note of that Holt. So it's not necessary that we're entirely compatible? That's good, because I'm not much of a desk person. I tend to spread out all over the place, mostly outside."
"That makes two of us."
"Well, nuts! If neither of us likes offices, what are we doing here?" Her brown eyes danced with laughter.
"Because we need a place to store our stuff, I guess." He couldn’t help but like her.
Annie laughed aloud. "Oh man! Do I have the stuff!" She picked up a colorful handmade clown. "Now would you buy this for your little girl?"
"No, she’s not into clowns. More like cuddly animals, kittens, puppies and such."
Annie studied the clown. "Ah. Much better idea. I’ll share that with our new entrepreneurs. We have a campaign in town to start people thinking about how they can contribute to Silver Creek's economy. Get Busy with Your Business. Do you think it's a good slogan?"
"Yep." Holt turned to his desk. The last thing he wanted to do was to get involved with the yackity-yak business of the town. He had his job and that’s all he was interested in. That and Lacy.
But Annie wasn't finished with him. "The slogan was Lacy's idea. We have a group of enterprising ladies who want to have a craft shop. They've even picked a name. Granny's Attic. Cute, huh?"
"I guess. 'Cute' is not a word I use much." He rubbed the back of his neck. "And I'm not much judge of shopping. Maybe if they sold ice cream. For my little girl." He gave her an exaggerated shrug. "What do I know about dillydallies? Fixing up old buildings is my field."
She scrutinized the next item, a pot holder mitten in the vague shape of a Holstein cow, complete with pink udders and black-and-white spots. "Thanks for the input."
"Anytime."
"You wouldn't want a real puppy for your daughter, would you?"
"What?" He was caught off guard.
"Feliz, my Golden Lab had pups the other day. Cutest three pups you've ever, ever seen. Perfect pet for a little girl. I'll bet she would use the word 'cute' for them."
He scratched his chin with his thumbnail. "I wish you hadn't said that."
"Why?"
"Because all that my daughter has talked about since she knew we were moving to a real house with a yard was having a puppy."
"Oh, really?" Annie dropped the pot holder and launched into one of her favorite subjects. "One little pup, the runt of the litter, is perfect except for one flaw. Her left ear is bent, just a little. It makes her look so cute. Oops, there's that word again. I want to find a really good home for her. I call her Honey because well, she's just like honey in looks and personality."
He looked away, trying to lose that mental image of the cutest pup in the world named Honey. "Give me some time to think about it."
"She's free to a good home, especially if you're staying around Silver Creek."
"Is that a bribe?"
"No, just looking for a good home for my pups."
Holt walked to the window, then back to Annie's cluttered desk. "A female? That means more puppies in a year or so unless—"
"I'll take care of the spaying for you. We have an excellent vet here, and he gives me a deal. I'm going to have Feliz spayed soon. She doesn't need to be having more pups. And I don't need more either. A female dog will be a nice pet for a child. Honey has a pleasant disposition."
"I'm not saying yes. If you find a good home for her, by all means, let her go."
"Right. No rush." Annie paused. "Maybe you'd like to bring your daughter out to my farm one weekend. Take a look at the pup. We have pumpkins growing that'll be ready for Halloween. She could pick one out, and we'd put her name on it. Then, near the end of October, she could come out and pick up her very own pumpkin, for carving into a jack-o'-lantern."
"Um-hum." Holt eyed her skeptically. "One look at that pup, and Sofia wouldn't be able to resist. And I'd be a heel if I refused."
Annie shrugged and grinned broadly. "It was worth a try. The invitation for the pumpkin still holds. And I’ll hide the pup from your daughter if you want to bring her out."
"No promises." He raised both hands and walked back to his desk. "I'll let you know."
"Now I see why Lacy wanted to hire you. You definitely make a great winning strategy." She laid her finger along her cheek and studied him purposely.
"What are you talking about?" Holt drew back. "Winning strategy? "
"No offense, now, Holt. We're hurting here in Silver Creek. And we're desperate for help and heroes and... oh just everything! So, we—actually Lacy—devised a winning strategy. And you're a part of it." She smiled at him proudly.
"I didn't realize…that I was a strategy?"
"Well, you're not all, but you're a big part of it. The rest of us are just pawns in the great Silver Creek chess game. But you—you're the king. If you don't get that historic district in shape, we're down the tubes. But, after what Lacy claimed about your abilities, I'm sure you can do it. She has a great deal of confidence in you, Holt." Annie continued sorting through her bundles. "Now, I have to decide if these handmade things are of high enough quality to sell in a craft shop. Such a strange business. What do I know about this stuff? Apples are my game."
Holt watched her for a few minutes, feeling a variety of emotions that ranged from pride to anger. He stared out the window at the dilapidated historic district behind the courthouse. Thank you, Annie, for being so brutally honest.
A growing anger began to dominate his emotions. Lacy Donahue was something else. She had elaborated on a friendly relationship to make him feel especially welcome, as if he were a part of the town from day one.
Suddenly, he felt very manipulated by her. What else am I going to discover abou
t this job and you, Mayor Donahue?
He decided to confront her with what he'd learned and was waiting in her office when Lacy returned from her meeting. "I'd like to have a word with you."
"Sure." She motioned for him to have a seat and proceeded to fix them both a glass of iced tea, which she kept in the corner of her office. "What's up, Holt? Did you meet Annie? You two haven't butted heads already, have you?"
"Oh no. Everything's fine with Annie. She's quite a dish. . . uh, I mean, beauty. I honestly don't mind sharing that office with her. We figure neither of us will be there enough to matter." He tried not to notice how sexy Lacy looked with her red hair pulled back to one side and flipped forward over one shoulder.
Lacy handed him a plastic cup of blended iced tea. "So what's the problem, Holt? You look disturbed."
He gulped half the tea, then set the cup on the table and gazed at her solemnly for a few moments. "I’m your 'winning strategy,' Lacy?"
"Oh damn! That Annie has a big mouth!" Lacy sighed heavily.
"No. She's just honest. Which is more than you can say for some people in high office."
"Oh, Holt, please don't be offended. We're just so desperate for someone strong. We discussed you—"
"Great! You sat around discussing me?"
"We wanted someone who could be a leader." Her expression grew serious. "We need a good leader. You won."
"Don't try flattery at this point, Lacy. What other assets were you looking for? Male, muscular and strong? Younger than seventy-five?"
"Holt! That's not fair!"
"You don’t play fair, either." He gestured at her chest. "Wearing that damned red tee shirt, helping me move, bringing in those boys, falling asleep on my bed. I’ll bet all that was part of your winning strategy. Just so I'd stay and do a job for you." He glared at her.
Under The Desert Sky (Desert Sky Series) Page 7