“Large pumpkin pie latte?”
“Coming right up.”
Kendall reached for her wallet, but Gabe bumped her arm with his elbow and handed a couple of bills to Delia before she could. “Make that to go, if you would. Opa is expecting us back for breakfast.”
“Tell him I said hi. And also tell him that the almond scones were a runaway success. I’m going to make a double order next time.”
“He’ll be happy to hear it.” Gabe stepped away to make room for the next customer, and Kendall followed him to the end of the counter where her drink would come up.
She continued to survey the coffee shop approvingly. “This place is amazing. If I go missing, check here first.”
Gabe’s phone rang in his pocket and he pulled it out, hoping it was just Opa checking in. But no, it was the office line. If he was getting a call this early, it wasn’t good. “Will you excuse me a minute?”
“Sure.”
Gabe stepped back out the door onto the patio and pressed the phone to his ear. “Hello?”
Linda’s familiar voice came through the line. “Hey, Gabe. I just got a call from Sheriff Martinez. He needs to move your meeting tomorrow to the week after next. Is that okay?”
He exhaled. It was nothing critical, just the annual review of the town’s contract with the county sheriff’s office. “That’s fine. Thursday is best if he can make it.”
“Okay, thanks. Are you still planning on being in late?”
“Yeah, probably about noon.” He turned to glance through the window, but Kendall wasn’t alone . . . and the man she was standing with made him clench his hand so hard around the phone he thought he’d crack the screen. “On second thought, I may not be in at all today. But you can reach me on my cell.”
“Okay, just let me know.”
Gabe clicked off the line and shoved his phone in his pocket, then marched back into the coffee shop, ready to do battle.
When Gabe stepped out to take his phone call, Kendall was left standing conspicuously at the end of the bar. For all the trendy decor, most of the people in this place were older, dressed in utilitarian jeans, fleeces, and cowboy or work boots. A place like this should be packed with telecommuters on cell phones and laptops, little kids getting a hot chocolate before school, businesspeople in their suits and dress shoes trying to get a little jump on alertness on their way in to work. The breadth of Gabe’s challenge hit home now that she observed it with her own eyes. The town wasn’t dying because of lack of tourism; the town was dying because the average age of the population was well over fifty. Families drove industry and growth; they needed businesses and schools and services.
The realization was oddly troubling, especially since she’d already determined that she had no obligation to this place.
“Excuse me.” A tall, broad man in a Patagonia down jacket leaned past her to grab a napkin from the dispenser on the end of the bar and then paused, studying her carefully. “You’re Kendall Green.”
She frowned. Midfifties, fit, and wearing an obviously expensive pair of boots, he didn’t look remotely familiar to her. “I am. Have we met?”
“No.” White teeth flashed as he held out his hand. “I’m Phil Burton.”
She struggled to place the name until she remembered the logo emblazoned on the plans that Gabe had shown her yesterday afternoon: Burton Property Group. Her instincts immediately went on high alert, but she put on a pleasant smile. “Oh yes. You’re the developer who wants to build over on the south side of the lake.”
He looked surprised. “Exactly. I see you’ve done your homework. That will make my job a lot easier.”
“Oh?”
“I won’t ambush you with business this early in the morning, but I’d like to set up a meeting at your earliest convenience. I imagine you’re not going to stick around here that long.”
There was something about his smug delivery, his conspiratorial tone, that raised her hackles. Like they were on the same side of something, when she’d never seen him before. She decided to play dumb. “Oh? Why is that?”
“Well, you’re clearly not from around here.” He looked her over as if that should explain everything. “And with the exception of this fine establishment, there’s not much for someone like you to do here.”
“Pumpkin pie latte!” Delia called, a little louder than necessary. The coffee shop owner’s gaze flickered between them.
Kendall took her time retrieving her drink, then took even longer with her first sip. She was momentarily distracted by the taste of good espresso, bolstered by a not-too-sweet hit of spices. “Someone like me?”
Phil smiled. “A California designer with a taste for European antiques? I imagine this place is a little rustic for you. Listen, I know you’re probably impatient to get back home. I’ll make you a fair offer for the houses, take them off your hands, and you can get back to your life.”
And that was what did it. Not the implication that he knew everything about her, but the idea that she hadn’t done her homework and he was going to do her a favor by giving her a “fair offer.” He figured he could get the property for a bargain, eliminate the last barrier to his development, and she would thank him for it.
If there was one thing she despised, it was being underestimated by a man like Phil Burton. “Have you even looked at the houses?”
He shrugged. “I don’t need to. Folk construction. There’s hundreds of them up here, some more interesting, better preserved, and better located.”
“I take that as a no?”
“Take it that it doesn’t matter. I don’t need the land. I own everything around it. You think it’s going to be worth anything when it’s surrounded on three sides by my hotel and the lake views are of my docks? You’re smart enough to see the truth.” He produced a business card from his pocket. “Call me. I’m ready to move quickly. We can get this wrapped up and send you back to your life with a minimum of fuss.”
“Mmm.” Kendall took the card, giving him a terse nod. He gave a smarmy smile and then turned on his heel just as Gabe came back through the door. She didn’t miss the silent exchange between the two men, Burton’s expression triumphant, Gabe’s thunderous.
“What did he want?” Gabe asked when he neared her. “Or do I even need to ask?”
“Oh, you can ask. He took one look at me, figured I was someone he could fool by downplaying the architecture and the land’s importance to him, and pressed me to ‘wrap it up quickly’ so he could ‘get me back to my life.’ If I’d been a little shorter, I think he might have actually patted me on the head.” Kendall lifted her cup to her lips, then immediately lowered it. She didn’t want to ruin her enjoyment of this excellent latte with the bad taste Burton’s condescension had left in her mouth.
“Are you going to call him?” Gabe asked.
She turned the business card over in her hand, feeling the weight of the stock he’d chosen, watching the shine of gold foil. When she looked up at Gabe, she’d be willing to bet that her eyes glinted with something feral. “Not if I can help it.”
“So you’re on board?”
Kendall watched the space where Burton had just been. “Nothing has changed, Gabe. I still need the money and I still need to sell. Just not to him.” She finally turned to him, hoping that he understood exactly what she was saying. “We need to come up with a plan. And fast.”
Chapter Ten
HAD GABE KNOWN that all it would take to get Kendall on his side was a meeting with Philip Burton, he would have arranged for him to be the first person she ran into. He had thought that perhaps he was the only one who felt like threatening violence just because Burton was in his personal space, assumed it was because of his strong feelings toward the town, but Kendall had no such ties and she was still fuming.
“I hate men who think women have no head for business,” she mumbled between sips of her pumpkin pie latte on their way back to the B and B. “As if I was just standing around waiting for someone to tell me what I shou
ld do with my property.”
The fact that she was calling it her property instead of Connie’s was an improvement; finally she was a little bit invested in the houses, even if it was only because she felt like Burton was trying to cheat her. Gabe wouldn’t complain if it finally put them on the same side of the argument.
“He’s definitely got a ‘punch me’ kind of face,” Gabe said lightly, and Kendall shot him a grin.
“Oh, if only I had thought that fast.”
Gabe nudged her with his elbow. “Probably best that you didn’t. Burton is the type to press charges and then offer to have them dropped in return for stealing away your land.”
“Probably,” she said with a hint of malice, her eyes narrowing. And that’s when Gabe decided he really liked this woman. Funny that all it took was a shared enemy and the threat of violence to bring them together. Despite her tone, the mood was comfortable now, conspiratorial, and from the way she settled her stride beside him, he thought she felt it too. “So tell me about Delia. She seems like an unusual type for this town.”
“You mean under sixty?” Gabe grinned.
“Well, that. And the tattoos and the makeup and the hair and the vintage clothes . . . you know, the whole look. Transplant, right?”
“Replant, like me. Went away to college, got married, moved back after a divorce. Opened the shop and the rest is history.”
Kendall nodded. “Now we just need another three hundred exactly like her, huh?”
“I would venture to say it would be difficult to find one other person exactly like her, but yeah, I get your point. We definitely need to attract working people and not just retirees to survive. Most of the younger folks moved out a long time ago and didn’t come back.”
“So that’s got to be goal number one: attract the younger set to town.” Kendall took another sip of her latte, brow furrowing. “What’s required to attract young professionals or new graduates? Affordable housing, right? Which you already have.”
“Compared to the Front Range, yes. But mostly it’s jobs, and everything here is either service-oriented or seasonal retail. What good is affordable housing if you’re making zero dollars?”
“Hmm. Well, that’s not something you can exactly wave your magic wand and make happen, is it?”
“You see my challenge.”
“I do.” She cocked her head. “What about Luke?”
Instantly, caution cut through him. Scratch that. Jealousy. “What about Luke?”
“He’s young. What does he do?”
“He’s a web designer. He works remotely. He has clients all over the country.”
Kendall walked on, thinking for a minute. “I assume that means you have good high-speed internet in town, then?”
“We’re in the mountains, not on the moon.” Though considering how sketchy cell service could be at times, the question wasn’t completely out of left field.
“So what if you tried to market it as a haven for telecommuters? ‘Work virtually in the most beautiful town in Colorado . . .’ You know, we millennials are really into work-life balance.”
“Are we?” He shot her an amused glance.
“So I’m told. The balance of my life is work, so I’m not really sure that I’m a good example. But seriously . . . why couldn’t you?”
He considered it for a moment. As an urban planner, he typically thought of things in terms of physical infrastructure, especially coming from Detroit: manufacturing and the like. But there were entire industries that operated virtually. Why couldn’t they try it? It required little of the town itself other than the amenities needed to support a community, and while those might be thinner than they were in Clear Creek’s larger towns, Jasper Lake was still livable.
“I think the big challenge then is housing. It’s affordable, yes, but it’s not like there’s an oversupply of it.”
“Yes, but surely you know a developer—who is not Phil Burton—who would be interested in putting in condos and some commercial space.” Kendall’s face lit up. “You know, hip and modern little cubicles with phone and high-speed internet that people could rent on a monthly basis. Bigger offices and conference rooms for small companies or meetings. They’re all the rage in Los Angeles, especially the ones that are dog-friendly.”
Gabe looked down at Fitz and automatically gave the pup’s furry head a scratch. He could think of dozens of things that would need to be done before that could ever be a reality, many of which would take years . . . but he didn’t have to actually accomplish it. All he had to do was show how his vision was preferable to Burton’s. Enough for them to block the permits, shut down the resort plans, and save Kendall’s homes. Then with the city council invested in the plan, they could take slow and steady steps toward a sensible implementation. It wasn’t as sexy as having a resort pop up in a year, but there was very little about urban planning that qualified as sexy.
“You know, you do have five rather large houses in a choice location . . . ,” he said slowly.
“Rent them, you mean? We’ve been there. I need a lot more money than rentals could bring in.”
“Maybe not rent them. Maybe more like . . . subdivide and sell them individually as condos.” He shook his head. “I’m just spitballing.”
“Trust me, I’ve seen what you have to do to houses like that in order to subdivide them, and it’s not pretty. I would hate to destroy the layout and the period details in order to make a multifamily unit. People spend hundreds of thousands of dollars to convert them back.”
“Right. But we can’t launch a massive marketing campaign to draw new citizens here without affordable housing. That creates the same problems as the resort development.”
“I don’t suppose there’s any chance you could convince Burton to change course? I mean, if you could change the zoning and block his permits, it’s not like he’d be able to follow through with his plan. What’s he going to do with his land then?”
“Hold on to it just to spite us?” Gabe guessed. “I haven’t found him to be overly cooperative.”
“That may change once he’s no longer holding all the cards.”
Gabe shot Kendall a sidelong glance. “Don’t forget . . . you’re still holding five of them.”
She made a face, her gaze fixed on the horizon. “How could I forget?”
He felt a pang of guilt. She’d had a lot thrown at her in the past couple of days. Finding out a bit of her mother’s story from Julie, having the entire future of the town hinging on her decision. And everywhere she went, there was someone to remind her of that. He suddenly wanted nothing more than to tell her not to worry, to do what she needed to do, and he would figure out the rest. A chivalrous impulse, maybe, but also a disastrous one. He was still Jasper Lake’s mayor, and his first and most important priority was doing what was best for the town. Even if it meant putting Kendall Green through the wringer.
They finally arrived at the B and B, and Gabe opened the front door for her, then circled around to the backyard, where he let Fitz loose. The huge hound went galloping off, thrilled to be free, though that energy wore off quickly enough, and he made a beeline for the patio furniture. It was a good thing Opa was secretly fond of the beast or Fitz wouldn’t get off so easily.
Gabe went through the back door into the kitchen, where Kendall was again sitting at the island, chatting with his grandfather. From the smell, he knew that Opa was cooking up some of Ellie Hernandez’s famous pork sausage, raised and made only a few miles away on the Hernandez ranch. Not only was the meat amazing, but Ellie’s special sausage blend was second to none. Even Opa admitted that he couldn’t come close, and for a German, that was saying something.
Kendall was finishing up her latte while Opa told her about the flood that had stunted Jasper Lake’s growth and destroyed so many of the neighbors. “Took almost two years for them to rebuild the bridge on the other side of Silverlark, and by then it was too late. Of course, you could come around the back side of the highway to reach us, but S
ilverlark was almost completely isolated unless you were comfortable with rutted dirt roads.”
“Wow,” Kendall said. “What did everyone do for supplies?”
“You don’t live up here unless you’re prepared to be snowed in for months, so the situation wasn’t immediately dire. Eventually they graded the back way in for deliveries, but it still wasn’t accessible to tourists.”
Kendall finally noticed Gabe standing there. “Oh, hey. Your grandfather was just telling me about the flood and how long it took for them to get the emergency funds to rebuild.”
“Yeah, and by then, the damage had already been done.”
Opa set two plates down on the counter, one in front of each of them, piled high with fried eggs, thick country bacon, Ellie’s sausage, and toast cut into triangles. Gabe didn’t tell her that the English-American–style breakfast was reserved strictly for guests. He’d grown up with brötchen and marmalade alongside slices of salami and cheese for breakfast, but few guests saw pumpernickel as breakfast food.
Kendall dug in, trying the bacon first, and gave a groan of appreciation. “This is amazing.”
Gabe smiled. “You should try the sausage.”
“I will.” She gave him a look that glinted with humor. “I’m glad I wore my stretchy pants today.”
Gabe covered his mouth so he could laugh without choking on his food. Stylish she might be, but prissy she was not.
“So, Mr. Brandt, what do you know about Phil Burton?”
Now the cough did turn into a choke. Kendall patted him on the back, and Opa slid him a glass of water. When it was clear that he wasn’t going to die, Kendall prompted, “Do you know Burton?”
Opa’s expression hardened. “I know him. Why?”
“I was just talking to Gabe about whether or not he would be willing to change direction if the city council shoots down his resort. I met the man this morning, but I can’t say I have any sense of what kind of person he is.”
She was soft-pedaling that for sure, because she’d made no secret about the kind of person she thought Burton was.
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