"Good point. Actually, for these kids, job training is better than providing a pretty park for their leisure time."
"Can't you get the money from some other part of the budget? This is really important."
She tapped her pencil on her desk. "I've been working with our lawyer to create the non-profit corporation. I can't thank you enough for that brilliant idea. Now, if we branch into job training for delinquents, that might give us some additional avenues for money."
"Actually, we aren't talking about much of a financial layout, Lacy. Minimum wage for three or four hours a day, five days a week. That's eighteen to twenty hours' work per week times two." He paused a moment so she could reflect on what he was saying. "I'm sure that these kids need the money from a job, although they wouldn't admit it. But more than that, they need the pride that this particular work will provide. They'll be able to see the results almost instantly, and they'll be a part of the historic renovation. Won't that be great?"
She smiled at him and shook her head. "You're very convincing, Holt. You make some very good points. Tell you what, I'll take it to the town council and see if they'll approve taking it out of education funds, at least until we get some investment money going. We'll need to present an official proposal and financial statement. And I'll develop a budget amendment."
"Thanks, Lacy." He stood. "Now, can you arrange to walk through after three o'clock today when they'll all be there?"
"Of course." She stood and walked around her desk.
He halted and looked at her strangely for a moment, then extended his hand. She smiled and slid her hand into his.
But instead of shaking her hand, he held it firmly and pulled her close. "Ordinarily, Your Honor, I'd settle for a handshake. But this business calls for more." He kissed her quickly on the lips. "See you this afternoon."
Lacy stared at the door after he left. Holt was a steadying force, while at the same time, always catching her off balance. He was creative and innovative, the best thing that their town had ever seen. He was a man to look up to, a hero of sorts, which he would hate. And what she so admired about Holt, the man, was his sense of strong values. Honesty. Self-esteem. Pride in a job well- done. He was just about perfect for Silver Creek's needs.
But was he right for her needs? The man for her? She needed someone successful, meaning. . . well, in the past, that meant someone financially successful. Did Holt qualify? She knew what he would say to that. Who cares about material things? Are you happy in your work? Do you like the kind of person you are becoming?
She refused to go there, herself.
His proposal today to hire the teens was logical and heart-felt. It would help everyone involved, including himself. And yet, she got the feeling that he actually had the kids' best interest at heart. He was doing this more for them than for himself.
The trouble with having him working here in Silver Creek, conferring with him on an almost-daily basis, was that Lacy was drawn to the man, physically and emotionally, with an unreasonable urge. She ran her tongue along her lips, where he'd kissed her. She could taste his masculine flavor, and her senses cried out for more. She just plain lusted after him.
Oh, damn! What was wrong with her? Quite simply, the man's strong masculinity appealed to her feminine nature. He was darned sexy! He was a man with the personal strength and attributes that she admired. He was the kind of man she could fall in love with; maybe she already had. Unfortunately, he wasn't driven for success the way she was.
Lacy sighed heavily, telling herself she had to fight this. Her sense of reason told her it was all wrong.
But her heart wouldn't listen. Her heart responded as if Holt Henderson were exactly right for her, as if he were her perfect mate, instead of the opposite.
The next two weeks were busy for both Holt and Lacy. His proposal to hire the kids was approved unanimously by the town council and Lacy had managed to get some quick action from a state grant for rehabilitating delinquents. Suddenly he had a work crew of two.
Lacy tried to keep her distance from him and her mind on her upcoming political investment event. Still, she couldn't help bursting with pride over Holt's accomplishments. His working with the kids was a tremendous gesture and a great success so far. She couldn't wait to show him off. Of course, she didn't let him know that. He'd rebel in a minute. And she'd be stuck with a table full of flowers, herbal dressings and no guest of honor. She was darned lucky he had agreed to come, this reluctant hero of hers.
Preparations for the event were a town effort. Maxine Novak, the school principal, used her calligraphy skills on the handmade invitations. The honored presence of the mayors of Tucson and Phoenix and certain other prominent citizens of those cities were sent requests to a Feast of Flowers with Silver Creek's mayor. Although they certainly knew of the financial bind of the city, everyone was curious about the so-called Feast of Flowers. Given the circumstances, they didn't dare refuse Lacy's Flowers for Silver Creek campaign. She was thrilled when they all accepted. Then she really, really got busy. And, like the efficient organizer, she put all her committees to work, too. Everyone contributed, some more eagerly than others.
On the appointed Saturday, Annie came early with half a dozen each of her Turn Apples into Bread Cake and World Famous Hot-chili Apple Pies, renamed for the occasion and hopefully, future business. She brought a new recipe for dill bread, which she planned to rename Dill Dough Bread, but Lacy nixed that. So she settled on Willy Dilly Bread.
"What's this, Lacy? Have you turned into a chef?" Annie looked over the dishes of golden casseroles. "What's this?"
Lacy folded her arms and grinned with pride. "Everyone else has been contributing so much that I felt I should provide an important component of the meal. This is a variation on Chiles Rellenos, surprisingly simple. If I can make it, anyone can. I'm calling it Green Gringo Chile Casserole."
Annie laughed. "And you're the gringo?"
"Yep, and I'm finding more and more uses for my herbs. Maybe other products made from them besides food."
Jay and Steve Amado arrived, hauling in an extra table. They moved furniture around so Lacy could seat the twenty-plus guests in her home. Judge Corona brought two large treasured lace tablecloths that had been in her family for fifty years. Flowered centerpieces were contributed from businesses in town, and a couple of high school teachers and students decorated and set the tables.
By the time Holt arrived at four-thirty, her house was festive with brightly colored paper flowers and Mexican party flags. He peered past her. "Is this the right place?"
Lacy proudly drew him inside, her face flushed with excitement. "Isn't it grand? I can't take the credit. Everybody contributed something."
"But you were the spark, Lacy. You got them rolling." He hooked an arm affectionately around her shoulders and squeezed. "It's going to be a fine evening for flowers. And for Silver Creek." He kissed her smiling lips. "Feel those sparks?"
She basked in his praise and tingled all over. Oh, he was good for her. She needed his encouragement to fortify her, his energy to strengthen her. No doubt about it, she thrived in his embrace. Touching the front of his dress shirt, she smiled up at him. "You clean up very nicely, Mr. Henderson, our special guest of honor."
"And you, Madam Mayor, are gorgeous." He stroked her cheek with his fingertips, then tilted her head for another kiss. His lips played softly on hers, taking her breath, while giving her life.
"I'm so lucky to have you here, Holt. Thank you."
"I'm sticking around for the fireworks. They're always at the end of a celebration, aren't they?"
"Too bad, we don't have anything like that planned for tonight."
He grinned. "Well then, we may have to make our own fireworks. Mrs. Carson's keeping Sofia all night. I wasn't sure how long a Feast of Flowers would last."
"You're staying the night?" She felt excited and anxious, all at once.
"Shhh," he murmured, placing a finger on her lips. "I figured you'd need someone to help you
clean the kitchen. I'm good at cleaning up."
They heard someone at the door.
"Must be Sandy." Lacy forced herself out of Holt's arms. "She's bringing some kind of pumpkin soup that her mother makes and is going to help me assemble the Margarita Salad while everyone is touring the property."
Holt straightened his tie as Lacy opened the door.
When all the special guests had arrived, Lacy served small glasses of locally made sparkling apple cider. Then Jay Amado drove the school bus that transported them to the historic part of town for their guided tour. As they strolled through the old district, Holt entertained them with hair-raising tales of how Pancho Villa and his gang of rebels had plagued Silver Creek a century ago. He told legends of ordinary folks finding traces of silver in the streets and gold nuggets in the hills. Then he led them into the Sonoran adobe building for a glimpse of the restoration in progress. Roman distributed Holt's renderings of how the completed project would appear, with the prospective restaurant, Mexican fountain in the entry, tiled floors, and a small stage for live music.
The guests seemed to be impressed as they were whisked back to Lacy's for rose wine sangria and Brie with raspberries and pansies. Tiny cups of Cream of Harvest Moon Soup brought "ooh" and "aahs" as well as stories of pioneer grandmothers who created similar soup in the 'old days.' The Margarita Salad with basil and nasturtium blossoms was exquisite, as was the Willy Dill Bread. By the main course of Green Gringo Chile Casserole decorated with rosemary and mint, the guests were transformed.
Before desert, Lacy gave a low-key pitch about how they could all benefit from investments in Silver Creek and how they needed help in order to survive. She explained how the non-profit development corporation would work, answered a few questions, and handed out a brochure with all the details that Sandy's sophomore computer class had designed.
The guests were given a choice of Turn Apples into Bread Cake topped with crystallized rose petals or World Famous Hot-chili Apple Pie with sugared violets. Lacy noticed that many guests tasted a little of both.
By the time they were wiping the last crumbs from their chins, almost everyone had made a financial commitment to assure that Silver Creek's historic district would, indeed, be renovated. Lacy was absolutely floating.
After dinner, the crowd gave Lacy a standing ovation. She smiled happily and was completely embarrassed by a rare display of tears. She turned away and wiped them quickly on a napkin. What was wrong with her, getting all sentimental? This was business. No time for tears.
Thomas McCoy, a banker from Tucson, pulled Lacy aside. "I'm very impressed with this evening's display. From the historic district tour to your Feast of Flowers, the evening was superb, Mayor Donahue."
"Thank you, Mr. McCoy. Many of our citizens helped put this evening together," she said truthfully. "We all want Silver Creek to survive."
He nodded. "After what I've seen tonight, so do I. In fact, I'd like to be a part of it. A big part."
She looked pleased, expecting his generous pledge. He was, after all, a banker with access to many of the people who wanted to make investments. "Anything is appreciated. We need your help."
"I have some specific things in mind for Silver Creek."
"Oh?"
"Personally. The bank that Pancho Villa terrorized particularly interests me. It could be a grand and beautiful building again and make a fine location for another bank. What great publicity we could get with that. Of course, I can tell that it would take a large sum of money to renovate it the way I want it done."
"That's why we didn't start with that one. We need more funds to tackle the bigger projects."
"What if I arranged for whatever amount you needed? I have some friends, uh, some venture capitalists, who would be interested in creating another bank here in Silver Creek."
"Why, that would be great."
"I think it could be arranged."
"I'm sure Holt would be willing to make the bank building his next project. I suppose we could use another bank in town, if we had the money flow to support it."
"But we might need to alter some of the present circumstances."
"In what way?"
"Well, uh, you see, I have a son whose construction business in Phoenix is, ah, sagging under the economy right now. But we can discuss all that later. Let's see what we can do about getting this thing rolling first."
Lacy's eyes grew round and large. "Wait a minute. What are you hinting at? That your son would do the renovation work on the bank? Instead of our current developer?"
"I'm sure you'll find he can handle the other restorations, too. Anyone with the right skills could do it."
"Well, not just anyone. We want someone with knowledge of antiquity restoration." She thought immediately of the impact Holt had made on the community, teaching them about their unique architecture, how the Mexican culture impacted the early building, and pulling so many folks into the project in various ways. "Actually, we don't have the funds to hire another construction engineer."
"I understand. But I'm sure something else could be arranged. As I said, we'll discuss the incidentals later." His gaze lifted to someone behind Lacy.
She turned to see Holt standing nearby, filling the doorway.
"Your guests want to see you before they leave," he said tightly.
Her eyes met his, and she knew that he'd overheard enough of the conversation to know what had been said. She turned quickly back to Thomas McCoy. The man smiled coolly and shook Lacy's hand. "I'm sure we can do business, Mayor Donahue." Then he turned the same cool smile on Holt and shook his hand, too.
Anger surged through Lacy as she moved away. Obviously this man wanted to replace Holt in exchange for the money to renovate the bank. How dare he? Hot with fury, she bit her lip to hide her feelings and made the effort to smile and bid her guests good-night. Now was not the time for a confrontation. They needed all the money they could get, even if it meant doing something unsavory.
Later, Lacy vented her anger to Annie and Holt as the three of them spent the next hour cleaning the kitchen. Annie agreed with Lacy. Holt said nothing, just listened.
Finally, Lacy sat down wearily. "Thanks for everything, Annie. We can finish this tomorrow. It's getting late."
Annie looked around. "It's in pretty good shape, considering the number of guests we had. You both did a great job."
"I notice there was no apple cake left," Holt said, patting his stomach. "Not even a crumb. I know I did my part." He gave her a quick hug.
Lacy walked Annie to the door. "I couldn't have done it without you. You are my strongest supporter. And best chef. Thanks for everything."
"Lacy, look at all you've done for this down, for all of us, in just one year. You're amazing. I'm so glad you decided to stay. And you know the best thing you said to me, actually to all of us, at that first meeting?"
Lacy shook her head.
"You said, 'Get busy with your business.' I love that! Made me think about who I am, what I like, and if I could form any business, what would it be?"
"And. . ."
"Well, it'll be something about harvesting the things I grow, mainly apples and pumpkins. And all the things you can do with them. I'm still working on it, but I love the new titles for my recipes."
"So do I, Annie. Thanks for much for bringing the desserts. And that wonderful dill bread. Everyone loved them."
More hugs and Lacy wiped another tear as Annie left. Maybe she was over-tired. The stress of this whole thing was getting to her.
Lacy turned to Holt who stood with his hands in his pockets. "You've been awfully quiet about all this, Holt."
He nodded. "Looks like my head's on the block."
"No, it isn't! I would never do what he suggested, Holt. Surely you know that."
"It's politics, Lacy. Everything for money, in exchange for favors. You scratch my back; I'll scratch yours. It's done all the time."
She rushed to him and took both his hands in hers. "But not by me. That's n
ot my way. To hurt one so another can make it isn't right in my book."
He shrugged. "We're talking about money for the town, Lacy. Lots of much-needed money for Silver Creek's future."
"No. Not without you. Silver Creek has no future without you, Holt."
He looked down at her and smiled. "You're tired, Lacy. It's been a long day. Things will seem different to you tomorrow."
"Not about this."
He latched his hands behind her back and drew her close. "Silver Creek made it before Holt Henderson came along and will certainly do fine without me in the future."
"Wrong on both counts. How can you say that? Have you forgotten that we are a town without a future? Silver Creek was slipping into obscurity before you appeared with a promise of hope. That's so important, Holt, for without hope, we have nothing. And the future? We're headed straight for ghost town status."
"Not with you and all the others to work for progress, Lacy."
"But what if all this effort doesn't work?"
"It will work. I'm being realistic."
"Well, Mr. Realistic, grab this. Neither Silver Creek nor I were doing very well before you appeared." She stood on tiptoe and kissed him. "You have become our mainstay, and I won't consider our future without you."
"Now this is more like it. How about if we forget about this argument and do something much more fun?"
"Fine." She rested both arms on his imposing chest. The physical strength of this tender man always impressed her. His manner, even his power, was subtle and never flaunted. It wasn't necessary. It was just there, as much a part of Holt as his strong brown eyes and slightly ruffled brown hair.
"Thank you for coming tonight and being the honored guest, Holt. You were an excellent tour guide. No one knows that historic district like you do." She sighed with a rueful smile. "I realize that eating flowers wasn't your favorite way to spend an evening, and I appreciate your pretending."
Under The Desert Sky (Desert Sky Series) Page 14