Love Inspired May 2015 #2

by Missy Tippens

  “No, let me finish. Drew and Eli both work with kids, some of whom are in danger of getting offtrack—no pun intended. The kind of kids Jared wants to help. They don’t agree with everything Jared has in his proposal, but they’re behind the project. Drew told me you questioned the program starting with kids younger than middle school. You could support the project without letting Brendon participate if you think he’s too young.”

  Easy enough for Emily to say. She wasn’t the single parent who would have to tell Brendon that, no, he couldn’t learn to race dirt bikes from his idol, Jared. Becca flopped back on the bed. She was so tired of everything being a struggle. What had she been thinking when she’d agreed to serve on the Zoning Board?

  “Mommy,” Emily’s daughter called in the background. “Ryan hid my new Magic Markers Mrs. Cook gave me on the last day of school.”

  “I’d better go referee. Did you want a ride tonight?”

  “No, I’d better drive myself. The board may want to stay after the hearing to discuss what people have said.”

  “Okay. Think about what I said. About Jared. And the racing school.”

  The beep of another text from the Sheriff muffled Emily’s goodbye.

  As if she could stop thinking about either Jared or his racetrack.

  * * *

  Jared and his attorney pulled up to the Schroon Town Hall forty-five minutes before the public hearing was scheduled to begin. A New York State Police cruiser sat off to the side of a line of sign-carrying protesters marching single file across the front of the building. The town had brought in the big guns.

  “Nice welcoming committee,” his attorney, Dan, said. “Looks like the same group I caught on the news the other night.”

  “The Albany station played it, too?”

  “I think one of the regional news syndicates picked it up. You’re news, man.”

  “Right. I’ve been news before. But usually good news.” He’d enjoyed the limelight the first few years after he’d started winning races. Then, it had gotten old fast. Now, he was having second thoughts about having given up his publicist when he’d retired from motocross. Or maybe he should have connected with Emily when he first arrived. Anything he did now would seem like a reaction rather than action.

  “You’re still good news,” Dan assured him before he dismissed the protesters. “What’s twenty or thirty people?”

  “More of the local population than you can imagine.” Jared scanned the parking lot behind them. Several more cars had pulled in while they were talking. He watched a man about his age or a little older pull open the sliding passenger side door of a minivan. More protest signs? He stilled when the man pulled out a ramp and a woman in a wheelchair powered down it. Liz Whittan, the girl—woman—his father had injured driving drunk the fall of Jared’s freshman year in high school. Her appearance would dredge up bad memories about Dad and him among the people at the hearing. Why was he even trying?

  “We should go in,” Dan said, his gaze following Jared’s to Liz making her way across the parking lot.

  Liz lifted her hand in a wave. “Jared. Jared Donnelly?”

  “Someone you know?” Dan asked.

  “Know of.” Liz had been three or four grades ahead of him at school. “Old family business. Go on in.”

  Liz closed the distance between her van and Jared.

  “As your attorney, I’ll stay.”

  “Whatever.” Maybe Dan was right to stay. He’d put his foot in his mouth in public before. His mind traveled back to his behavior in the months following his mentor’s death. More times than he cared to remember.

  “Jared, I thought it was you.” Liz looked up at him and his stomach knotted.

  Had his opponents stooped this low, or was Liz a ready participant?

  “Liz Whittan,” she said.

  “I know who you are.” He fought to keep his voice modulated.

  She smiled, and he braced himself for what he expected she would say.

  “I saw you when we drove in. This is my husband, Mike.” She nodded at the man who had helped her out of the van. “I wanted to catch you before the hearing to tell you what a great idea I think your proposed project is.”

  “You like it?” The invisible bands cutting off air to his lungs snapped.

  “Yes. I teach with Eli and Becca, middle school math, and have already made a mental list of some students I’d encourage to participate. You have a lot of people behind you.”

  Jared glanced at the protesters.

  She waved them off. “Half of those people would be against their own mothers if they proposed anything new or different for the town. You have the support of people who could help you get your project off the ground.”

  His attorney smiled as if he’d had a part in this. Or maybe it was just relief that he wasn’t representing a losing cause.

  Liz ticked off the people on his side. “Anne Hazard and GreenSpaces, all of the Hazards, I think, the town supervisor, Harry Stowe, almost every teacher I’ve talked to, my pastor, the local business association and the Zoning Board, including Becca Norton.”

  “I’m not counting on Becca, not from what she’s said to me.” It hurt to say it out loud.

  Liz gave him a knowing smile. “I’ve known Becca for a long time, since she started teaching at Schroon Lake. Trust me. She likes the idea. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

  Jared wished he could trust her words.

  Dan checked his watch. “We need to go in.”

  Jared moved to the side to let Liz and her husband go ahead. The protesters divided to let them through and closed ranks as Jared and his attorney followed.

  “Take your racetrack somewhere else,” the man closest to the door said.

  “And yourself,” came a woman’s voice to Jared’s left.

  The state police officer stepped out of his car. Jared tensed as the line separated to let him and Dan into the Town Hall. The uplift he’d gotten from Liz’s encouragement had dissipated like smoke in the wind when the officer had opened the car door. While he appreciated the officer’s help, he was used to fighting his own battles, winning on his own merit.

  Just inside the door, a sheriff’s deputy Jared didn’t recognize stopped them. He pointed at the cardboard tube with the racing school plans Jared had in his hand.

  “Sir, I’ll need to see what’s in that tube. No signage is allowed in the meeting.”

  “This is Jared Donnelly,” Dan said.

  “I’ll handle this,” Jared said, opening the tube and spreading out the sheets for the deputy to examine. He didn’t need Dan stepping in for him any more than he’d needed the state police officer or anyone else.

  * * *

  A commotion from outside snapped Becca’s and the other board members’ attention to the doorway of the meeting room. Jared and his attorney entered and walked to the seats reserved for them in the front of the room. His mouth was set in a grim line that accented the planes of his face. He caught her staring and she looked past him to the room at large. With more than a half hour until the public hearing was scheduled to begin, it was already almost filled to capacity. She scanned the faces and saw many she recognized and a surprising number she didn’t. For better or worse, Jared and his project had certainly activated the residents of Paradox Lake and the rest of the Town of Schroon.

  She returned her gaze to Jared. He met it with a cool stare as he and his attorney walked past their seats to the dais. Her memory of Jared’s expression when she’d said they needed to keep their distance and of his preferring to wait for Connor outside zipped down her spine in a virtual shudder. She’d watched from her window as he’d strode up the road out of sight. Even though she’d tossed and turned that night, every stray noise waking her up to thoughts about Jared, she still believed keeping her distance was the rig
ht decision.

  “I have updated plans for you.” His voice cut through the buzz of the filled room. “They weren’t ready until this afternoon. We were waiting for input from the Department of Transportation about the changes to the Route 9 access the GreenSpaces engineers are suggesting.” He unrolled a set of plans from the cardboard tube.

  “Good,” Tom Hill said. “I’ve had a lot of questions about traffic on Route 9 and the possibility of a roundabout.”

  Jared’s expression hardened. “And you won’t find DOT’s answers here. They didn’t get back to GreenSpaces. These plans show the access with and without a roundabout.”

  “That’s too bad,” Tom said. “I know the people out that way are concerned about crowds and traffic, particularly on race days.”

  Tom glanced at her and back to Jared. “But I’m sure you know that.”

  Jared frowned and Becca’s cheeks heated. What was that supposed to mean? Tom or his wife, Karen, must have heard Charlotte talking about her and Jared having dinner together on Saturday. Her heart thudded. To clear up any questions about her having a conflict of interest, she should have talked with Tom about Jared fixing her car and dinner before tonight’s meeting. Who was she trying to kid? She had a conflict of interest all right, but it had nothing to do with Jared’s racetrack and the Zoning Board. On that, she was confident she could be impartial. Her conflict of interest was between what her heart seemed to want and what she knew was best for her and her children.

  “We’d better take a look at these before the meeting starts, although I’m sure you and your attorney will be able to provide up-to-date answers to any traffic questions we can’t answer.” Tom motioned Becca and the other board members to join him in a small side room.

  As she followed, Becca overheard Jared’s attorney ask, “Something you need to fill me in on? The board chair was talking about something other than the racing school.”

  “No. No, nothing at all.”

  She recoiled at the vehemence behind his words.

  “Mr. Hill?” The sheriff’s deputy poked his head in the side room a few minutes later. “We’ve reached room capacity, so I’ve closed the outside door and will monitor it. Here’s the list of people who want to speak.”

  “Thanks.” Tom took the clipboard and handed it to the board secretary. “We might as well get started.” He rolled up the plans and led them back out to the larger room.

  Despite several strategically placed fans, the packed room felt at least ten degrees hotter to Becca than the smaller one they’d come from.

  Tom went through the formalities of opening the hearing. “Everyone who wants to speak should have a number. If you don’t, see the deputy in the lobby.”

  A couple of people stood and walked to the lobby.

  “All right. Whoever has number one, please come up to the microphone. You can address your questions to the board or to Mr. Donnelly and his attorney.”

  A man Becca didn’t recognize walked to the mic.

  “Please state your name and question,” Tom said.

  The man said his name. “Before I start, it’s good to see that we have someone on the board who’s on our side. From what I’d heard, I thought this mockery of decent living was a done deal.”

  Several whistles and cheers followed.

  “Get to your question,” Tom said.

  “I just wanted to thank Mrs. Norton.”

  Becca caught Jared’s narrow-eyed glare before she spoke. “Excuse me?”

  “You’re the one who set up the protest Saturday afternoon in front of the school, aren’t you? I saw you handing out signs. Ken told me you were in our camp, your property being so close to Donnelly’s—” he sneered his name “—and all.”

  A mental haze blocked everything but her view of Jared. His eyes blazed. He couldn’t seriously think that she could have organized an afternoon protest in Schroon Lake and gone home and made dinner for him, even without considering that she hadn’t had a car.

  “Hey,” someone else shouted from the back. “Shouldn’t she excuse herself from the board decision? You’re supposed to be neutral and vote on the merits of the project.”

  Tom’s gavel came down with a bang. “I don’t often get to do that,” he said, lifting some of the tension in the room, although not in Jared from the rigid way he held himself.

  “Becca?” Tom gave her the floor.

  She stood on shaky knees, hoping no one noticed. Could her ex-father-in-law have set her up by getting someone who looked enough like her to organize the rally? But people who knew her would have had to know it wasn’t her. “I had nothing to do with the rally on Saturday. I was home all afternoon and evening.”

  “Can you prove it?” someone else shouted.

  Jared’s supporters were as bad as the opposing guy who’d started all of this. She blinked. What was she doing, setting up an us-against-them scenario?

  “I...”

  Jared stood. She couldn’t tell from his stony expression if he was going to defend her or join in the attack. His attorney touched his arm at the same time Tom brought his gavel down again.

  “I know Mrs. Norton was home Saturday dinnertime,” Jared said.

  Tom gave her and Jared the same look he had earlier.

  “And I talked to her on her home phone about two o’clock,” Anne Hazard stood and said.

  Becca had forgotten that Anne had called Saturday afternoon to let her know Ari had left her swimsuit and towel at their house and ask if Becca wanted her to bring it to church on Sunday. As Becca sat, she sneaked a look at Jared to see if Anne’s words had had any effect on him. He was listening to something his attorney was saying. She didn’t need to prove anything to him. So why did she feel as if she did?

  “If we’re done with this nonsense,” Tom’s voice boomed across the room, “I’d like to get this informational hearing going. Your question or relevant comment, sir.”

  The man made a comment about how the project would ruin the quality of life in the Paradox Lake area and detrimentally impact the tourist trade.

  Over the next two hours, Becca’s gaze kept returning to Jared trying to gauge his reaction to the questions and comments, which seemed to be balanced pro and con. The only time he veered from answering questions directed to him with straight, to-the-point facts was when someone asked about the racing program or the kids it would be designed for. Then, his passion brought the whole room alive.

  As the minutes ticked toward eleven, Becca noticed Jared’s attorney leave the room, come back, say something to Jared and, at Jared’s curt nod, leave again.

  Another person finished speaking and, instead of calling the next number, Tom said, “It’s getting late. I’m going to adjourn the hearing and continue it until next month.”

  A groan rippled across the room, punctuated by several shouts.

  Tom glared the group into a dull hum. “Anne, you should have the DOT report by then?”

  “DOT says no more than three weeks.”

  “A month should allow for any additional delay. We want everyone to have an opportunity to speak his or her opinion. If you have a number and haven’t had a turn tonight, come up after we adjourn and see the board secretary before you leave to stay on the list. Deputy,” Tom called out so the man could hear him in the hall. “Once the room has cleared, please allow anyone waiting outside for a chance to speak to come in and sign up with the secretary.”

  The deputy stepped into the doorway. “Will do.”

  “Then, can I have a motion from the board to end the meeting?”

  Becca had her hand in the air before Tom had finished the sentence. The short-sleeved natural linen suit she’d worn turned out to be much too warm for the now-stifling room. She rubbed the base of her neck. Despite the two bottles of water she’d downed over the past three hours,
she felt the start of a heat headache.

  Another board member seconded the motion. Tom adjourned the hearing and walked past the departing board members to Becca. “Can you stay a couple minutes to talk, or do you need to pick the kids up?”

  “The kids are with Matt in Connecticut.” Her words came out more sharply than they should have. Tom certainly had nothing to do with Ken and Debbie keeping them there longer than the weekend.

  Tom nodded. “Jared.” He caught him as he rose and motioned him to the dais.

  Jared, on the other hand, had everything to do with Matt’s and Ken and Debbie’s actions, even if it wasn’t intentional.

  “Come back to the side office where the fan does something for this heat so we can talk.”

  Becca and Jared filed in behind Tom, reminding Becca of her high school principal and the one time in her school career she’d been called to the office— for defacing school property. Her freshman year, she’d joined in a non-school-sanctioned egg “war” between the cheerleaders and the football players on school property the evening before the big homecoming game. Afterwards, she and another cheerleader had written “Go Wildcats” on the cafeteria windows with soap crayon. A teacher who’d driven by had reported her and the others she’d recognized to the principal.

  She glanced over her shoulder at Jared. His mouth was drawn in the grim line she was beginning to think was his natural expression. Or was he having the same déjà vu? For all Jared’s high school bad-boy cred, she didn’t remember him being a standard feature in the principal’s office as some of the other guys had been.

  “Sit.” Tom waited until they’d taken seats on the opposite sides of the small rectangular table before he sat at the head of the table. He looked from Becca to Jared. “What is going on with you two?”

  * * *

  “Ladies first,” Jared said. He didn’t know if Becca had said anything to Tom about him fixing her car. About the rest, Tom probably had a good idea, given what he’d said at the hearing when Becca had been accused of being behind the protest on Saturday. Or as good an idea as anyone, since Jared wasn’t sure himself what was or wasn’t going on between he and Becca. When the guy at the hearing had pressed to have Becca excuse herself from the board vote, Jared had almost believed she’d organized the protest, was working with her ex-in-laws—despite what she’d said to him Saturday night. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d been duped by a woman or believed someone he’d cared about when he knew he shouldn’t. It had taken him years to wise up to his father.