"Holt, there wasn't any strategic plan. Whatever happened or was said between us was real. And private. When I said we discussed you, I meant that we discussed your assets—your career assets. And what you could offer Silver Creek."
"I like to know when I'm being used, that's all." He turned toward the door.
She rushed forward and caught his arm and held it with both hands.
The muscle in his forearm tightened and he tried to ignore the jolt she gave him.
"I'll admit it. You are being used. But we all are. We need you and a thousand like you so badly. There're only a few fighters like us in Silver Creek. And now we have you. But the bottom line is that we desperately needed you, and you came along." She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "We just took advantage of a good thing. Someone special. Now if you can't live with that, with how we hired you and why, with what we want you to do for us, I’m sorry. I can’t believe I’m begging, but I am. Sort of."
His lips tightened. She could be tough. But what did he expect from the mayor of a dying western town? A real tough cookie, that’s what. "You don’t have to beg, Lacy. Just don’t expect miracles from me. None of this may work, and I don’t want to be held responsible."
"No. I mean, right. You won't. I will."
He shifted. "You’ve got to understand, Lacy. I don’t want that kind of responsibility, to be the winning strategy for a dying town. For a bunch of desperate people. I just want to do my job. And enjoy it."
She sighed and squeezed his arm, then let her hand slide down to his wrist. "Thank you. I think we got a real winner here."
"I want to be appreciated for me, not for what you and your staff in some glorified moment created for me. I'm just a man here to do a job. That's all. And if it works for Silver Creek, that's great. If not, so be it. I will have done my job to the best of my ability."
She still held his hand a little longer. "I guess that's all we can ask."
"It’s all you’re getting from me."
She nodded. "I'm sorry if you were offended, Holt."
"You're a good politician, Lacy."
She released his hand. "No, I’m just someone who wants the best. When I was elected to this position, I took that mandate seriously. I pledged my loyalty to this town and especially to these people. And I'm fighting tooth and nail to save it. Maybe someday, Holt, when you've lived here awhile, you'll feel some of that loyalty."
"Maybe. Meantime, I have a job to do."
"You're going to do fine, Holt. I just know it."
"We’ll see. When can we discuss a plan for the remodeling? I want to make a priority list of buildings and decide on a central theme for color and design. Is there a committee that will meet with me and keep track of progress?"
"Not much of a committee. How about just you and me? Are we enough? I don't have many folks who are available on a regular basis during the week. We even have town council meetings on Saturday to include those members who work out of town."
"Sure." He shrugged. "If we can work together."
She smiled confidently. "We can. How about Wednesday? That'll give you a little time to get settled and make your priority list."
"Time to do a few sketches, come up with a plan." He paused before leaving. "Thank you, Your Honor. I'm glad we had this little chat." He left before his instincts took over to haul Lacy Donahue into his arms and kiss her silly.
That's what she needed – but what did he need? A job. A settled life for his daughter. And another woman in his life? Yes, yes and NO.
Lacy watched him leave with trepidation. Inside she was trembling. This was a warning. He would not be manipulated. He had a mind of his own. And damn, Holt Henderson had made it perfectly clear that he didn’t feel the same urgency to save the town as she did. She’d better be careful or she’d run him off with her persistence.
CHAPTER SEVEN
On Wednesday morning, Holt appeared in Lacy’s office with several rough sketches and a proposal for the direction of the remodeling he had in mind. Lacy listened and observed as he spread the designs on her desk and explained each one. He had good ideas, and he expressed them clearly, even when they conflicted with hers. The two of them went back and forth on a few items.
"I think we should start with the bank building." He pulled out the draft of the circle of buildings around the plaza that would be renovated in the first phase. "It's centrally located and has the most interesting history."
"I was hoping you’d start with the Sonoran adobe on the end. It used to be a hospital. Then it was a boarding school. In the twenties and thirties, it was a pool hall," Lacy said. "All of those buildings have interesting histories when you delve into them."
"If I remember our original conversation correctly, we're trying to draw outsiders, not just hold on to the fighters, as you call yourselves." He pushed the sketch before her. "Look, the old bank has good lines. Shows the Spanish influence in this area. Those beautiful arches in the front with the long porch and the decorative tile... they'll finish out beautifully. And maybe we could get another bank in there. Bring in the money."
She bent her head, listening, thinking. "Yeah, maybe. . ."
"Plus, it'll be a good showcase for my work. Better than the humble adobe."
"I know, Holt," she said softly. "You're absolutely right. It will be beautiful when refinished. But we want it done right. And I'm afraid we don't have enough money at the present. The adobe has a much simpler style and is a good, solid building. It will probably need less work than the rest."
"It's an ordinary rectangle. A box with a roof and porch."
"Yes, but I already have an interested party who—"
"Ah-ha! I figured something else was influencing you." He sat back with a disgusted sigh. "It's a political decision, not an artistic one."
She tightened her lips. "In case you've forgotten, I am in a political office. And I have to oversee the whole town, not just what one person wants. Yes, it's political. But that's how things get done around here."
"Okay, it's the Sonoran adobe first." He lifted his palms in resignation. "What's the interest? Could you at least tell me that?"
She hesitated, then decided it would only be fair to tell him a little of the situation from her side. "There are a couple of businessmen from out of town who are very interested in starting a restaurant. They want to create an upscale, authentic Mexican restaurant with lots of atmosphere and excellent cuisine. They'd be willing to lease the Sonoran adobe if the completed building is suitable. The catch is that we have to prove that we are going to be able to draw outsiders."
"And how do you propose to do that?"
"We hope to have complete citizen participation as visible proof of our good intentions. And as soon as the adobe is finished and the investors see that it will house a nice restaurant, we hope to start on the old hotel, so people coming here can have a place to stay."
He nodded tightly. "Okay. Your town. Your plan. Enough said."
She leaned forward on the table and ticked off items on her fingers. "I'm trying to get more money for this project through federal and state grants. But I'm thinking of other ways, too. Holt, we have to go slow and easy at first. One building at a time. Try to find an occupant. Get it producing. Establish the funds for another building. Find another occupant, move on from there. As soon as the money comes through, I'll give you the green light to start another building, maybe even hire some workers. But until then, we're forced to go with what we can handle now, which is the adobe."
"I understand. No objections, Your Honor. The first thing I'll need is a small crew for demolition and cleanup. Where can I hire—"
She shook her head. "I... at present, I don't have sufficient funds for that. But the local Kiwanis Club has volunteered to serve as a work crew this Saturday. You would simply need to supervise them."
He winced. "Ah, I see. Okay. Not a great start, is it? No budget. No crew. No subs. Otherwise, I get to call the shots and be my own boss." He lifted his hands and let th
em fall on his thighs in an act of frustration.
"With a little help, it shouldn't take too long, should it?"
He shrugged. "I'm not immune to hard labor."
"Holt..." She paused and gave him a little smile. "Thanks for being so understanding."
"Sure." He rose from the table and started for the office door. "Uh, I figure loser buys dinner. And I'm definitely not the winner of this session. Would you consent to—"
She stood, an apologetic expression on her face. "Holt, please don't."
"Oh, the old mayor-doesn't-date routine again, huh?" His brown eyes latched on to hers. "Another time, for sure. I don't give up easily, Lacy. And I don't give a damn about your personal rules."
She didn't agree. Nor did she disagree. She watched him leave the room with her emotions tumbling. Would she agree another time? Or would he give up on her before she relented? She couldn't answer. This was one subject on which the mayor couldn't make a decision.
Friday afternoon a torrential rain hit Silver Creek. Roads and rivers flooded in the area. It didn't take the phone call from the Cultural Arts League for Lacy to know the evening's performance would have to be canceled. It was just as well. Flash flooding could be risky in this part of Arizona. Plus, she had tons of new material to read and decide on. If she'd gone to the play, her mind would have been on work that needed doing. Wrapped in a brown raincoat, her briefcase filled to the brim with paperwork, she darted to her car after work.
Once home, she changed into her favorite worn jeans, her comfy red University of Arizona tee shirt and warm, sloppy socks. Feeling comfortable and relaxed, she fixed herself a cup of orange- mint tea. Then she settled into the big cushioned chair by the corner lamp with a five-inch thick pile of reports on grants available to cities like Silver Creek, which she'd just received from the federal government. Rain pelted the roof and windows and she was glad to be warm and dry inside.
As Lacy was losing herself in Grant Options for Small Municipalities, someone rang her doorbell. The rain was so heavy and the night so dark that Lacy couldn't distinguish the shadowy figures on her porch through the window. She opened the door to the very wet, tall figure of Holt Henderson. He wore a drenched cowboy hat and a black leather jacket that was shiny and slick. Beads of rain peppered his face like freckles. Behind him, sitting in a large red wagon with her legs curled between several plastic grocery bags, was Sofia, draped in a blanket and carrying a small umbrella.
"Hi!" The little girl's large brown eyes flashed from beneath the blanket. "We've come for our rain check while it's raining!"
"What?" Lacy's surprised gaze flew from Sofia to Holt.
"I explained to Sofia," he began, "that a rain check just meant a delay of delivery. Usually it happens later, but in this case, the rain made it happen now. I figured that if the Cultural Arts League drama canceled tonight, which it did, you'd be willing to go on a picnic with us. I brought hamburgers to cook and buns."
"Holt." She started to laugh.
"Now, I know we can't do a backyard picnic, but we're much more flexible than the Cultural Arts League. No costumes or anything like that needed. My part of the rain check is that I'll cook the burgers on the back porch on my portable charcoal grill, which I happened to bring along. And your part is to make the picnic." He paused to assess her reception. "If you’re ready for a rain check."
"We brought all the good stuff," Sofia added. "Plus marshmallows for roasting – ooo-oo-oo! Yum! And we'll clean up after. We're good cleaner-uppers."
"How can I refuse an offer like that?" Lacy gave Holt an evil eye. "Come on in where it's dry." She pushed open the screen door.
Holt helped Sofia out of the wagon and left the umbrella and the wet blanket.
"How's your shoulder?" Lacy asked.
"It's okay. Only hurts when I raise my arm. I can swing, but not climb on the monkey bars. Bummer!"
When the little girl walked into the living room to look around, Lacy caught Holt's gaze. "Using a child," she muttered through her teeth, "is a dirty trick."
"I figured it was a winning strategy that might work." He followed her into the house with an armload of supplies from the wagon. "It worked for you when you brought the boys to help me move."
"Ah-ha! You admit using her."
"Do you admit using the boys?"
"Humph."
"Everybody else around here uses strategies. Why shouldn't I? Sometimes it's necessary. You said so yourself." He smiled pleasantly and handed her one of the bags that was slipping through his fingers. "I hope we didn't interrupt anything important tonight."
''I was studying how to get more money for our town, hoping to get additional funds for the renovation project. Grant Options for Small Municipalities makes fascinating reading on a rainy night."
He rolled his eyes. "Sounds dry as a bone."
"To be honest, this sounds – " she grinned up at him "— like much more fun."
"It will be. Guaranteed."
"Can I see your kitty, Ms. Lacy?"
"Honey, I don’t have a kitty."
"Yes, you do. I saw her run. She's hiding from me!" Her little girl's voice sounded loud and shrill and she ran down the dark hall to Lacy’s bedroom.
"Sofia, come back here. It isn’t polite to go into a person's rooms uninvited." Holt looked at Lacy. "Especially the bedroom, even though that person made herself perfectly comfy in my bedroom," he added in a low voice.
Lacy made a grab for him and stumbled, falling straight into his arms. He held her firmly. "I've got you."
Sofia appeared, standing with her hands on her hips and looking very small in the hallway. "I just wanted to see the kitty."
"I’m sorry, honey. I don’t have one," Lacy repeated and straightened up, pushing away from Holt. She again felt that spark, this time, all over her whole body.
"Then, who do you play with?"
Lacy shrugged. "I have work to keep me busy. In my spare time, I read and garden."
Sofia looked at her father, then back to Lacy. "No toys?"
Holt cleared his throat. "Princess, adults don't play with toys like kids do. Ms. Lacy doesn't have any children, so why would she need toys?"
Lacy felt completely inadequate. Out of the mouths of babes. No one to have fun or play with. No toys. No – nothing. For a moment, those awful words from Bruce came back to her. Loser. Jobless. No kids. As if those were the main credits of life. She was not a loser nor jobless, damn it. She privately vowed to get a small supply of toys for Sofia's next visit. Next visit? What was she thinking?
"Tell you what, Sofia," she said. "You can help me fix the picnic. Where do you think we should do it? In the kitchen? Or the living room? How about on the floor, in front of the fireplace?"
"Yes, yes!" Sofia started dancing around. "We can roast marshmallows in the fireplace after we eat!"
"Excuse my rambunctious daughter," Holt murmured.
"She's fine. Refreshing and honest. . . something I've needed. " She gave Sofia a high-five.
"Oh yeah, she'll keep you on your toes."
Holt got busy with his part of the meal and before long, the savory aroma of grilling hamburgers drifted from the porch. Lacy and Sofia did their part for the picnic. They spread a blanket it on the floor. Then they worked on condiments for the hamburgers. Lacy let Sofia help with everything for the meal. She set up an assembly line of buns. "There you go, honey. You fix them. Squirt, smear and pile to your heart's content."
"What do you like on yours?"
"Everything!"
"Whee!" Sofia giggled as she squeezed mustard in decorative circles on the buns. "I’m making a mustard smiley face!"
"How's the chef doing?" Lacy called.
"Between the blowing wind and rain, it's been a challenge. But, voilǎ! They're done." Holt brought the burgers inside with a flourish.
Sofia clapped. "Voilǎ! Daddy!"
By the time they brought their plates to the picnic blanket, there was a crackling fire going in the fireplace. Lacy smi
led inside and out. It was the happiest she'd felt in a long, long time. And she didn't even know it until this minute.
"You have a nice place, Lacy. It's larger than mine."
"It's part of the mayor's package. Salary is small, but they provide a place to live. Lena, the retired judge, owns it. I rattle around in here. It's much too large for me." She shrugged. "But I like the house a lot. And I have a great back yard for my herbal garden."
"Do you have a swing set," Sofia asked.
"No, honey. My whole back yard is full of blooms and leaves."
"My dad could clean them out for you if you want to put up some swings."
"Why, thank you. I'll bet he'd do a great job, too."
"Yep."
Holt looked around. "This place needs a little fix up, but hey that's another job, for another person."
"Maybe when you finish the historic district, you'll take on the residential side."
"Sounds like you want to keep me busy forever."
"I want to keep you around for a long time." Only when the words were out did Lacy realize how compelling that sounded.
"Do you think that little black cat is watching us? Think she's hungry?" Sofia got up and looked in every nook and cranny in the room.
"She doesn't live here, honey," Lacy said patiently. "I’ve seen her in the court house, near my office."
"But I've seen her here," Sofia insisted. "Yes, I have."
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