Archer’s kitchen and his squiggly-lined Soliere drifted through her mind.
She closed off that thought. “I’m sorry I missed you,” she told Squire. “But I’m glad the sandwich reached you. I hope it was good.”
“Ruby’s food always is. Question I’ve got is why you made that effort at all. Your boss lady’s never stooped to sending a pretty filly along to do her dirty work before.”
“There’s no dirty work,” she assured him, trying not to sound stiff. The only dirty work she’d ever been involved in had been because of Martin, unintentional on her part or not, and she didn’t appreciate hearing the term now. “I was in the diner this afternoon and missed your company.”
He made a soft sort of snort. “You wanted to convince me to show up for the dog and pony soiree—” the word dripped with scorn “—that the rest of my council brethren have been suckered into attending.”
“I don’t think Vivian plans a dog and pony show,” Nell countered mildly. “She’s only interested in smoothing the way for a new public library. Do you have grandchildren in this community, Squire?”
“Not as smart as you look if you don’t already know the answer to that.”
He was right. She should have done more homework where he was concerned. As it was, she’d felt a little sideswiped by the impressiveness of his ranch. “A new library only benefits Weaver and the surrounding region. Do you really disagree with that?”
“Only thing I disagree with is the woman you’re working for. She doesn’t do anything without an ulterior motive.”
“I think that could be said of most anyone,” Nell pointed out. “In my experience, people’s actions almost always have a deeper motive than what is first apparent.” She waited a beat, but he didn’t reply. Nor did he hang up on her, which she chose to take as encouragement. “I’m no different,” she continued. “The first time we met, I could have told you that I’d been hired by Mrs. Templeton. But I knew there was dissension between you when it comes to the library—”
“Not just the library, girl.”
She hadn’t done her research, so she let that pass, too. “And I was enjoying your company too much to want it ruined. I also realized that if you could get to know me a little before painting me the same color as you’ve painted her, perhaps you would also have a more open mind when it comes to bringing something really important to this town. You see? Deeper motive.”
“Don’t have to tell me what’s important to this town, either. Been here a hell of a lot longer than she has.”
“Yet another reason why it’s so important that you exercise your support for it. Do you really think the existing library is adequate?”
He didn’t answer that. “Is she going to fire you if you don’t get me there tomorrow night?”
Nell winced. She ought to have been prepared for such bluntness. “I certainly hope not. I need the paycheck,” she admitted, just as bluntly. Vivian had never mentioned Squire by name. She’d just said she wanted the council there. “But no. I don’t feel like it’s her intention to hang me out to dry.”
“Pays to be cautious where you put your trust, girl.”
How well she knew that, too. “And sometimes it pays to go out on a limb despite one’s caution,” Nell countered. She felt guilt fire in her face, because what limb had she ever gone out on? “Particularly when so many others will benefit as a result.”
Her little speech was met with silence and she squelched a sigh. “I’m well aware that I’m the new kid on the block, Mr. Clay, and that it’s not my place to shower you with platitudes. So let’s just leave it that I am glad you enjoyed the sandwich. And I hope one day, I’ll share the lunch counter again with you at Ruby’s.” She didn’t wait for a response that she was certain wouldn’t be forthcoming anyway, and hung up the phone.
She flipped open her notebook to her checklist and eyed the two incomplete tasks.
She’d struck out on Squire Clay.
That left acquiring a cocktail dress that Vivian Templeton would deem appropriate.
She pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment, then closed her binder again, took it and her purse and cautiously snuck down the staircase so that Montrose with his bat-like hearing didn’t notice.
* * *
Weaver’s current and only library was located in Old Weaver.
That evening, Nell found it easily enough and entered through the swinging glass door. It was the only fairly modern element that the structure possessed. Aside from that, the two-story structure just looked like an old, vaguely Victorian house. Considering she’d been in Weaver nearly a week, she should have done more than just drive by it by now.
Inside, she passed the circulation desk. The teenage boy manning it was engrossed in a thick novel and didn’t even look up at her.
That was okay. She wasn’t there to check out any materials. She wasn’t even there to judge for herself whether the facility was too out of date for the town. The reason she was there was to escape the noise coming from the motel room next to hers while she worked on the Swift Oil grant application.
At the motel, Gardner’s car had been gone, meaning that she was working the evening shift at Udder Huddle. Her three boys had been left to stay in the motel room where they’d been in fine form, whooping and hollering over the video game they’d been playing.
The noise had been clear through the walls. They hadn’t been misbehaving. They hadn’t been fighting. There’d been no reason for her to try to squelch their natural exuberance just because she’d found it difficult to concentrate.
Now that she was in the library, though, Nell couldn’t stop herself from wandering the aisles, pulling out a book here and there. Paging through it. Lifting the book close to her face and just inhaling the smell of the pages.
She loved that smell.
It always reminded her of her mother.
However, she had a task to complete and wandering among the stacks wasn’t going to get it done.
There were only two study desks that she found, and one had bright yellow caution tape strapped all over it because of a broken leg.
Fortunately, the other was not broken and she sank down on one of the hard wooden chairs surrounding it. She flipped open her binder and pulled out the application form, spreading it across the table in front of her. She uncapped her bright yellow highlighter. The instructions were lengthy. Detailed. She wanted to be sure she didn’t miss a single thing, because she knew the quickest way to have an application tossed out was for it to have been submitted without every instruction followed.
She read through it once, highlighting the key elements with her marker. When she was done, almost the entire sheet was yellow.
“You always did have a heavy hand with the highlighters.”
Nell stared up stupidly at Archer, who’d appeared seemingly out of nowhere to stand beside her table. She frowned at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be cat-sitting somewhere?”
His eyes crinkled slightly and he dragged a chair from the adjacent side of the table and straddled it right there next to Nell. “What’re you working on?”
She would have liked to produce some reason not to tell him, but there wasn’t one. Not a good one, anyway. “Swift Oil annually awards a couple major grants. This year they’re both focused on education. I figure the library fits the bill.”
“That explains this.” He lifted the edge of the mostly yellow page. “But it doesn’t explain why you’re doing it here.” He made a point of swiveling his head around at the stacks surrounding them.
“Three boys in the motel room next to me who like playing video games. Very noisy video games.”
“Ah. Now I see.” He reached across her to pick up the first page of the grant instructions and his arm brushed against hers.
She wanted to gnash her teeth.
She hadn’t succeeded that day with
Squire Clay.
She’d failed to find a dress at Classic Charms, because when she’d gone by, the small store had been closed for the day.
And now, when she needed to be entirely focused on the grant-writing task at hand, all she was able to focus on was him.
She had only a couple of hours before the library closed, and she needed to make the most of them. Midnight was going to arrive in five hours whether she was prepared or not.
Doing her best to ignore Archer, she pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and clicked her pen a few times. She pondered for a while, then wrote out her first sentence, which was simple and straightforward.
Weaver needs a new library.
She scratched it out, tossed down her pen and gave him an annoyed look. “What are you doing here?”
“Lawyers need libraries like flowers need rain.”
She rolled her eyes. “You have a more than adequate library in your own house. You showed it to me last night.”
He smiled slightly and brushed a lock of her hair away from her cheek. “Caught me. I was over at the sheriff’s department. Saw your car parked here when I was leaving.”
“So?”
“So, I thought I’d see how things were coming along.”
“Nothing’s changed since the last time you saw me. I haven’t managed to raise the rest of the money we need.”
He looked amused. “That would have been quite the accomplishment if you had. Vivian would feel compelled to give you a raise in pay.”
“I also haven’t gotten Squire Clay to agree to attend Vivian’s cocktail party tomorrow. He’s the last holdout on the council.”
“Yeah, well, that’s not surprising, either. Lot of murky water under that particular bridge.”
She raised her eyebrows, waiting, but he didn’t elaborate. Instead, he angled his head as he read through the second page of grant instructions.
If she didn’t get to it, not only would the library close right around her ears, but she’d end up missing the deadline.
She picked up her pen again. “Weaver needs a new library,” she wrote again.
She scratched out the second, identical line, which had only served to prove how singularly unimaginative she was.
Archer’s fingers brushed hers as he slid the pen from her hand. “I’ll help.”
She stared. But then reason intruded. Of course he’d help. It wasn’t Nell herself who’d prompted his offer. The library project was spearheaded by his grandmother.
And it wasn’t smart to look a gift horse in the mouth whether or not her self-protective instincts urged her to keep him at arm’s length. “Do you know anything about writing a grant proposal?”
“No. But I know Lincoln Swift at Swift Oil.” He gave her a quick grin as he tossed aside her pen and crumpled her carefully highlighted pages into a ball. He nudged her chin when she opened her mouth in protest. “Don’t say anything you’ll live to regret.”
“But—”
“My sister Maddie is married to him.”
She blinked. And then she closed her mouth and quickly began stuffing all of her materials right back into the binder.
Chapter Nine
“Thank you so much. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your support.”
Archer watched Nell pump Linc’s hand and hid a smile. The only times he’d ever seen his imperturbable brother-in-law perturbed had been when he’d been caring for his little niece Layla a few years ago when she’d been abandoned on his doorstep, when Maddie had been in labor with their own son, Liam, and now, in the face of Nell’s fervent appreciation.
“I’m glad to help,” Linc was saying. He managed to extract his hand from Nell’s. “I wish I could just tell you that Vivian’s project could receive Swift Oil’s grant, but I’m married to one of her granddaughters. That automatically excludes her project from consideration. But that doesn’t have to stop me from putting the screws to my business associates who aren’t related to her. They can dig deeper into their pockets, too.”
They were at the stately house located squarely in the middle of Braden where Linc and Maddie lived. Only Maddie—who was a social worker with family services—had been called out on some emergency, which left Linc alone on Liam duty.
“Any and all support is really appreciated.” Nell was beaming at Linc and it spilled over into the glance she gave Archer. He wondered if she even realized it. She’d never smiled that much when she’d worked for Pastore. “I really should have realized your connection to Vivian before now. I just—”
Linc shook his head, waving off her comment. “People who’ve lived here a lot longer aren’t even necessarily aware. Don’t worry about it.” His attention perked when he heard a noise. “Just a sec.” He strode from the room and returned a moment later with a cross-looking Liam in his arms.
At the sight of Archer, though, the toddler shoved at his daddy’s hold, nearly launching himself into midair toward him.
Fortunately, Archer was used to the greeting and was prepared for the catch. “Hey, bud,” he said, smiling into Liam’s little face. He held up his palm and Liam showed off his mouthful of stubby white teeth as he smacked his fist against Archer’s hand. “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed by now? It’s after eight.”
Linc looked chagrined. “And Maddie won’t be pleased. She likes Liam down by seven.”
“I know. Last time I babysat, she gave me hell for not getting him into bed on time. Said I deserved to have to watch him the morning after when he’s cranky as all get-out because of it.” Archer caught the bemused look on Nell’s face as she watched him with the baby. “What?”
She lifted her shoulders, giving him an innocent look that he didn’t buy for a second. “Nothing.” She jerked back a few inches when Liam aimed his fist her way, accompanied by a stream of babble. “Just trying to imagine you babysitting.”
“Hifi, hifi, hifi,” Liam demanded noisily as he waved his arm again toward Nell.
“He wants you to high-five,” Archer interpreted.
Her dark gaze swiveled to the baby and she lifted her palm just in time to meet Liam’s next swing.
Liam chortled and squirmed in Archer’s hold, both arms outstretched as he threw his upper body toward Nell.
She looked surprised and delighted as she caught his torso, and then had to take a steadying step when she received the full brunt of the boy’s weight. She quickly adjusted her grip though, and laughed into Liam’s face. “Well, hello there, Liam. Aren’t you a live one?” She caught his hand with hers and wriggled it. “How old are you?”
“I fi,” he said giggling.
“You’re almost two,” Linc corrected wryly. “For some reason, five is his favorite word these days.”
“You coory,” Liam told her, patting her head with obvious glee. “Coory coory.”
“Curly,” Archer supplied.
“I am curly,” Nell agreed. She touched Liam’s smooth hair. “Is your hair curly?”
His forehead puckered. He shook his head. “No, I a boy.”
Nell laughed. She shot Archer a sparkling look that made him nearly hurt inside before looking back at his nephew. “Sometimes boys have curly hair too, you know.”
“Unh-uh.” Liam was certain. “Hifi.” He raised his fist again and she obediently tapped her palm against it. He pumped his fists up in the air and whooped.
Nell laughed again, and rubbed her face against the boy’s head.
“You’re watching too many basketball games on television,” Archer told Linc. “Kid’s starting to sound just like you.”
“Come here, pal.” Linc lifted his son out of Nell’s arms. “Everyone is his best friend right now,” he told her.
She was smiling, something soft in her eyes. “He’s darling.”
“Yeah.” Linc rubbed Liam’s head. “I think we’ll keep him.” He
led the way from his downstairs office into the foyer, swinging Liam upside down over his shoulders.
The toddler squealed excitedly. “Daddy!”
“That’ll help get him to sleep,” Archer said drily. He reached around Nell to open the door. “We need to get while the getting’s good. You do not want to see Maddie when she’s on a tear ’cause her firstborn isn’t in bed when he’s supposed to be.”
“I have a few tricks to calm her down,” Linc assured him.
Archer shuddered. “I need to wash out my ears now.” He started to nudge Nell out the door. “That’s my baby sister you’re talking about.”
“Hold on.” Linc opened a closet door and pulled out a black box about half the size of a shoebox. “If you’re heading back toward Weaver, can you drop this off with your folks? Maddie borrowed these socket wrenches from your dad.”
“Sure.” Archer took the box. “What’d she need them for?”
“Putting together another crib.” Linc winked and darted up the stairs, bouncing Liam up and down to make him squeal even more.
Archer was aware of Nell tugging his sleeve. “We going to stand here for a while or—”
He looked down at her. “Did he just say another crib?”
“Yes.” She pursed her lips. “Is that his way of announcing another baby?”
“Yes,” Linc said from the top of the staircase. Laughter was in his face. “But keep it to yourself. Maddie wants to tell your folks this weekend.” He lifted his hand and disappeared along the landing.
“Great,” Archer muttered as he followed Nell out through the door. “Drop some news like that on me even though I’m doing him the favor of returning the tools?”
Nell laughed. “Stop complaining. You’re thrilled with the idea of another nephew or niece. I can see it on your face.”
He dropped his arm over her shoulder as they began descending the dozens of steps leading from the street up to the distinguished brick house that sat high on a hill. “It keeps Meredith from looking too closely in my direction on that score,” he allowed. “And don’t remind me again that I’m not getting any younger. My ego still hasn’t recovered from the first time.”
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