by Tessa Layne
“I am.” She nodded, and pulled out a chair across from Emma. “I was hoping I could get your help?”
“With what, exactly?”
“Poster design, mostly. Maybe some PR, a website, stuff like that.”
Emma’s face pulled tight. Lexi’s spidey sense kicked in. Something was off. “I could…” Emma hesitated.
“But?”
“But, I have to be up front with you. I’m already helping Jarrod with some of the same stuff.”
“You are?” she croaked. Of course she was. Emma was a Sinclaire. Jarrod’s sister was married to one. Blood was thicker than water, dammit, and she was on her own. Lexi started through a mental Rolodex of who could help her with the graphics, her biggest concern.
“I’m so sorry,” Emma said with a frown. “Brodie asked me if I’d help, and I didn’t feel right saying no to family.”
“I understand.” She did, too. If Cody or Colton or Parker were running for mayor, she’d do anything to help them.
“I promise I could do it and remain neutral,” Emma offered. “I’m just not sure you’d feel comfortable with that.”
Lexi shook her head. “No, no. I understand. Truly.” She gave Emma a smile she was certain didn’t reach her eyes. “Family first.”
Emma reached out to take her hand. “I’m sorry, Lexi. If it was anything else, you know I’d help you in a heartbeat.”
“I know. Well, come by after the election, and tell me about all your plans for baby Walker.”
Emma beamed. She positively glowed with expectation. “I’d love that.”
Lexi stood. “Thanks again.”
“Lexi?” Emma called after her.
She paused at the door and turned. “Good luck.”
“Thanks.” She was going to need it. This was going to be so much harder than she imagined, and Jarrod was already two steps ahead of her, dammit.
Lexi tucked her campaign posters under her arm and marched down Main Street. So far, there were no Jarrod posters in any of the shop windows. She hoped it stayed that way. Lydia had insisted on designing her campaign materials when she learned that Emma was already committed. She’d come through with flying colors, creating a simple design on a blue field with her name in white block letters. In the corner was a sunflower, Kansas’ state flower. Who wouldn’t want that in their window?
She pushed into the diner and marched back to the office. Her mother had been very circumspect about the whole thing, so far not voicing an opinion about her running one way or the other. Lexi guessed she was still mad about the outburst. “Ma?” She knocked on the office door and gently opened it. Dottie was sitting at the small desk, sipping a cup of coffee.
“What is it, sweetie-pie?”
Her mother looked tired. She’d never noticed it before, because Dottie was such a force of nature. But suddenly she looked… older. “You okay, Ma?”
Dottie waved her off. “Just taking a sit-down. Been here since the birds were singing, is all.”
“Are you sure it’s nothing more?”
Dottie gave her an indulgent smile. “Yep. Long day.”
“Well, I brought you some posters to hang in the window. Lydia designed them.” She placed two on the desk.
Dottie frowned. “You know part of my success has come from insisting that the diner be a politics-free place.” She leveled a stern look at Lexi. “Come hell or high water.”
Lexi’s stomach sank, and her hopes with it. “What are you saying?”
“Sweetheart, you know I love you and I will vote for you, but I can’t hang your sign in my window. I won’t.”
“But Mama.”
“Don’t But Mama me, sweetie-pie. This is a business decision pure and simple. What do you think would happen to me if I picked sides? People would stop showing up.”
“No they wouldn’t. There’s nowhere else to go.”
“Because no one wants an alternative right now. But I start picking sides and who knows what could happen? My customers are welcome no matter who they vote for.”
Lexi blinked back tears of frustration. She understood where her mother was coming from, but this… hurt. Dottie sighed and stood, walking around her desk to wrap Lexi in her strong embrace. “Oh sweetie-pie. You know I’m so proud of you for taking a stand, and you know I’m as worried as you are about a confinement operation coming in and impacting our ranch.”
“But then you have to tell people that, Mama. They’ll listen to you.”
“And in private, I’ll tell anyone who’ll listen. But my business welcomes everyone. Even people who think differently than me. That’s part of what makes our community strong. That they can come to the diner and hash things out. Hopefully not as loudly as you and Jarrod did.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” She wiped her eye with the back of her hand. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“You had a lover’s spat, simple as that. It happens. Lord knows, your daddy and I used to have knock-down drag-outs when we were young.” Dottie’s face broke into a smile. “But then he learned.”
“Learned what?”
“That we Johnson women were just as stubborn as the Grace men and we weren’t going to back down, ever. Especially when we knew we were right.”
“So we get that from you?”
“Oh, you get it from your daddy, too. Don’t kid yourself. That’s why you girls are a force to be reckoned with, and anyone who tangles with you better be prepared.”
Lexi buried her head in her mother’s shoulder, inhaling her scent of Noxema and baby powder. “I love you, Mama.”
“I love you too, sweetie-pie. And I’m so, so proud of you. Don’t ever forget that.”
Lexi nodded and took a big breath. “Keep those, if Jarrod has the balls to ask you to put a sign in the window, I’m okay with you putting both.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, but my window is staying clean. I will, however, hang them here in the office.” She winked. “Knock ‘em dead, kiddo. And when you come back I’ll have a fresh slice of apple pie waiting with your name on it.”
Buoyed by her mother’s pep talk and the promise of pie, Lexi started down the street. She stopped first at the Five ’n Dime to speak with Vangie Miller, a friend of her mother’s and one of the women in their lady’s group, the Prairie Posse. “Vangie?” she called as the door jangled.
“Is that you, Lexi?” Vangie called from the back. “I’m in the stockroom, I’ll be right out.”
Lexi went to wait at the counter, recalling all the times she’d come in for penny candy growing up, and then nail polish and bubblegum lip gloss when she’d been in junior high. Vangie bustled out, hair pulled back into a topknot. Lexi decided to cut right to the chase. “I’m sure you heard I’m running for mayor,” she started.
Vangie tossed up her hands. “My heavens yes. I’d popped over for a slice of your mama’s cream pie when I heard the kerfuffle. That’s quite a handsome man you’re taking on.” Vangie winked.
“Umm, yes. He’s definitely that,” she answered.
“Well you have my vote, dearie. It’s high time women started running things around here. Heck, we’ve been runnin’ things behind the scenes for generations. ‘Bout time we get recognized for our hard work.”
“So would you mind putting a poster in your window?” Lexi asked, nearly choking on her heart. Asking was so much harder than she’d imagined. It felt so… personal.
“I’d be thrilled. Give me two. I’ll put one in my yard.”
“Wow, thank you, thank you so much. I appreciate it.”
“Go get ‘em, honey. Nothing would make me prouder than to see you mayor.”
Lexi left with a lilt in her step. Only ten more businesses to go. When she pushed open the door to Anders Feed ’n Seed, the men who liked to gather at the back counter stopped talking. Six pairs of eyes silently watched her walk the length of the store to where they gathered around a long countertop. She cleared her throat. “Is Anders around?”
“He’s lo
ading up my truck,” an old-timer volunteered.
“Whatcha got there?” another asked, eyeing the stack of posters tucked underneath her arm. “Posters. You want one?” she pulled out one and extended her arm. She might as well have told the men she was carrying bubonic plague from the horrified look on their faces.
“We ain’t never had a woman mayor before.”
Lexi forced a smile and silently counted to five before she answered. “That’s because Wilson was mayor for over fifty years. No one was going to challenge him.”
“Well I say if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,” added another man in overalls.
Lexi jumped on the man’s sentiment. “I agree. I think we need to preserve the ranching livelihood that’s integral to our community.”
The man’s brows knit together. “I was talking about a woman mayor. We ain’t never had one before, no need for one now.”
“I don’t think my gender has anything to do with how well I’ll perform the job,” she responded tightly.
“Still, shouldn’t you be home popping out babies or something?”
“Yeah, and what’re you gonna do if you have a baby? Bring it to work?”
This set off a round of laughter amongst the men. Heat flooded Lexi’s body, and for a moment she couldn’t hear over the quiet fury pounding in her ears. The nerve of these sexist assholes. Dottie should ban them from receiving pie. Forever. “Whether or not I choose to have children, and how I choose to raise them has no bearing on my qualifications for being mayor. I come from a ranching family, I’ve worked both in ranching and—”
“And for those tree-huggers in Washington D.C.,” interrupted one man.
Lexi bit her tongue, hard. It was clear these men were lost causes. There was no reasoning with stupid. And while they may not be stupid about ranching, they were certainly ill-informed about women. It was time to cut her losses. “Please tell Anders I stopped by,” she asked politely, seething. “And if you have any questions about my opinions, or the kind of mayor I’d be, please don’t hesitate to reach out.”
By the time she made it to Big Mike’s Brewery, her feelings were in the dumpster. She’d managed to hand out three posters, which was great. But the old-timers in town were set in their ways, which did not bode well for the future. They wouldn’t even listen to her because they couldn’t get past the fact a woman was running for mayor. Lexi slapped down her posters on the bar and slid onto a stool. “Did you bring me something to hang on my wall?” asked Mike with a broad smile.
“Are you sure you want to? Most people in town think they’re poison.”
“That’s a load of bunk. I will proudly support you.”
Lexi’s spirits lifted. “You will?”
“Hell, yes. I’ve fought fires out by where those CAFOs in Western Kansas are. They reek to high heaven. We won’t get tourists in here if the place stinks of piss and shit.”
“Right?” Lexi nodded vigorously.
Mike poured her something from the tap and pushed it across the counter. “This one’s on me, and let me know how I can help.”
“As a matter of fact, Jarrod beat me to renting out the only vacant office space on Main. I’d love to be able to use a corner of the brewery for the campaign — folding envelopes, making phone calls, et cetera.”
“Consider it done. And free beer for anyone who volunteers for you.”
“Are you kidding?”
Mike leaned across the counter, face serious. “We need someone like you in office. Someone who’s looking out for the little guy.”
The weight squeezing Lexi’s chest lightened. “That’s what I’ve fought for my whole life. We need people who will use their voices to help those that don’t have one.” Why couldn’t Jarrod see that? She thought with a gut-wrenching twist. And if he couldn’t see that most fundamental thing about her, what else couldn’t he see?
Chapter Twenty
Jarrod kicked his feet up on the desk in his brand new campaign office, his old feeling of confidence returning. He’d lucked into renting the only vacant space along Main Street for the duration of the special election. And while he might not have any signs in any other storefronts, it was only a matter of time. Emma Sinclaire… his sister-in-law-in-law? He wasn’t sure what he’d call her. She was Brodie’s baby sister and that was enough. She’d whipped up brilliant brochures and posters practically overnight. Even better, she’d come up with a publicity plan to help him get his message out to the residents.
The bell jangled over the door and an older gentleman walked in. Jarrod quickly stood. “Anders?” He’d memorized the names and faces of the shop owners on Main.
“Yes, sir, that’s me,” he said.
Jarrod extended a hand. “Nice to finally meet you in person. You’re quite the institution on Main.”
“Been here going on forty-five years.”
“I bet you’ve seen a lot of change.”
Anders shook his head. “Not as much as you might think. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not keen on a factory farm moving in, but if that’s the price of progress, so be it.”
Jarrod handed him a poster. “Here, take two. Progress doesn’t have to be bad. Good jobs mean businesses like yours keep the lights on.”
“Well, we need to do somethin’ to keep the young people here. That’s for sure.”
“As mayor, I intend to work to attract all manner of businesses to Prairie. There will be plenty of opportunity for any young person who wants to stay in Prairie.”
Anders nodded his head in agreement. “I hope so. And another thing. I’m just not so sure a woman should be in politics.”
Jarrod stilled. “Why is that?”
“You know how it is. They get flighty. Start to cry at the drop of a hat. They should be at home raisin’ the kids.”
Jeezus. If Jamey had heard Anders talking like that about Lexi, she’d have chewed him a new asshole. He cleared his throat. “I think Lexi’d do a fine job if she was elected. I knew her when we both worked in Washington D.C. No one has a stronger work ethic.” It felt weird, really weird, defending his opponent, but he couldn’t let a comment like that slide. “She and I just have a different view of progress, that’s all.”
“Hmmph,” Anders answered. “I still don’t want a woman running this town.”
“Fortunately, you have a city council that does most of the running.” Jarrod shot him a grin. “And since I expect to win, I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that for a while.” He didn’t like the way that sounded, but he didn’t know what else to say. There was only so much deflecting of sexist comments he could make without sounding like he supported his opponent for mayor.
After dinner, while Jarrod was drying the dishes and making faces at Fiona who was bouncing in a door swing, Jamey eyed him critically. She reached into the top shelf and brought down the 12-year Redbreast. “You look like you’re in need of a little conversation.” She pulled out three tumblers and poured out the liquid gold. “Brodie will join us after he’s given Fiona her bath.”
Jarrod had to hand it to his brother-in-law. Brodie had taken to parenting like a fish to water. He was completely hands-on, even wearing Fiona in a sling, and taking her out while he did chores. His niece was the luckiest girl alive, to have parents as devoted to her and to each other. A pang skewered Jarrod right underneath the sternum. He’d found himself imagining baby Lexis during the week when everything had been perfect, and now that dream seemed completely unattainable.
Jarrod balanced two of the tumblers in one hand and grabbed the bottle with his other, while Jamey pulled Fiona from her bouncy swing. “I’ll be right down,” she said over her shoulder. He settled himself in one of the oversized leather chairs in front of the hearth, and pondered the liquid in the glass. 12-year Redbreast demanded complete and total honesty. It’s why his sister had named it the crisis bottle years ago. You couldn’t lie when you were drinking the magic of leprechauns. He wouldn’t dishonor the whiskey. Not if he wanted to look his f
amily in the eye again. What was the worst that could happen tonight?
He expected he was going to receive a grilling about running for mayor. Jamey had been… less than enthusiastic when he announced that he was running. She and Dottie were close, it was understandable, but surely, Jamey of all people knew the importance of keeping Prairie’s future alive? “What’s on your mind, sis?” he asked when she’d settled herself across from him.
Jamey contemplated the whiskey and raised her glass. “To Jason.”
The knot of grief he’d become an expert at ignoring pressed hard against his chest. A lump formed in his throat. “To Jason,” he agreed when he could find his voice.
“I miss him so much,” Jamey whispered. “Every time I look at Fiona, I think about his kids, and how that could have been me.”
“I know.” He didn’t know what else to say. There wasn’t much to say. Grief was something to be waded through, not gotten over.
“Did you ever go to the doctor like you promised?”
He nodded.
“And?”
“I’m in good shape. Cholesterol is fine. I’ll need to remain vigilant. Being here has been a good thing.”
Jamey raised a brow. “Until you blew things with Lexi.”
“I didn’t blow things with her. We… just don’t see eye to eye.”
“And you always have to win.”
“I don’t have to, I just do.”
“I forgot what a cocky bastard you are,” she teased.
He grinned at her.
Jamey sobered. “I really thought you had something nice going with Lexi.”
“I did, too.”
“Then why let this get in the way?”
“She’s the one letting it get in the way, not me.”
Jamey made a disbelieving noise. “She’s lived in this town her whole life. She’s going to have opinions. You’ve been here, what? A month?”