Chapter Three

      “At least she didn’t say anything about me in her first post from Canyon Springs, Abe.” Jake stared at the laptop he’d placed on the kitchen table next to his Sunday morning breakfast. “As an elected official, I sure don’t want to get a reputation as being an opponent of the press. That could haunt me to the steps of the state capitol. I’ll have to be more careful around her. Stay on my toes. Or better yet, avoid her altogether.”

      He scrolled through the Hometowns With Heart blog again, studying several photos taken of the snowy landscape outside Kit’s Lodge. It was quite a contrast from the saguaro cactus and bright flowers she’d posted the previous morning from Phoenix—the Valley of the Sun. His gaze lingered on one photo in particular.

      “There she is, buddy, in her sandals and sundress next to a scrawny, two-foot high snowman. Can you believe it?”

      He shook his head and glanced over at Abe, who sat patiently by the back door, his brown beagle eyes trained hopefully on his master. Jake smiled. He loved that dog even though it had been Macy who’d badgered him into adopting the little guy from the Central Missouri Humane Society. A puppy, of all things, which had to be potty trained, then fed and walked every day. He’d never done anything that crazy in his whole life. But then, his brain had come unglued during those seven or eight months he’d spent around Macy.

      It wasn’t a period in his life he was proud of.

      And yet...

      Abe—named after Jake’s favorite president—whimpered.

      “Hang on, I’m almost done here.” He took another bite of oatmeal, his attention once again trained on the graceful form and laughing eyes of the pretty journalist. She seemed to be enjoying herself, oblivious to the whipping wind that had blown her long hair into a golden aura.

      Mouth suddenly dry, Jake drank the remainder of his orange juice. He knew now he’d fallen for her, a woman like none he’d ever met, that first day at the estate sale. Most women considered him too stodgy. Staid. Too focused on the needs of his clients. It’s what made him a good attorney. But he hadn’t had the experience—or the sense—to recognize his own vulnerability to a flirtatious female who acted as if he was the most tempting thing she’d ever seen on her love life’s menu.

      Last fall he hadn’t felt compelled to enlighten his fellow council members on the history he shared with the vivacious blogger...and risk losing their hard-earned respect. Keeping silent hadn’t seemed too chancy. After all, what were the statistical odds of his hometown being selected from among hundreds vying for her attention?

      Pretty high as it turned out.

      “I feel as if I should warn everyone, Abe, but wouldn’t sharing now what I know of her be akin to closing the barn door after the horse got out?”

      And how would his clients and constituency react? Would they be able to trust a man who’d broken a professional confidence all because he’d let his guard down with a woman who wasn’t even his wife? He could almost hear the snickers, the comparison of his indiscretion to that of the biblical Sampson and Delilah. That wasn’t something he needed with the vice mayor opening up for grabs.

      The tricolored dog whined, almost as if recognizing what Jake knew too well. That, regrettably, his earlier decision to withhold the whole story could end up a sin of omission he and the entire town might come to regret.

      “Okay, maybe I came on too strong with her yesterday. Gus is right, none of us need to be getting ourselves on her wrong side.” He scrolled down through the blog post again, then back to the photo. “Do you think I should apologize?”

      Abe moved restlessly by the door just as Jake caught a glimpse of the clock above the sink. “Whoa!”

      He looked down in alarm at his grungy sweats, then jumped to his feet and rapidly crossed the floor. Opening the door to the fenced-in backyard, he motioned to Abe. “You’d better get out there and do your business, mister, or I’ll be late for church.”

      Would Macy be there? Would he have an opportunity to talk to her and smooth things over? Could he prevent a well-meaning churchgoer from signing her up for the prayer chain calls? That privilege would provide her with direct access to every illness, financial problem, kid woe or faltering marriage in town.

      He’d better get moving.

      As it turned out, he needn’t have rushed. Even with a slight detour to pass by the property Granddad had willed to the city, something that had become a habit in recent days to assure himself all was still as it should be, he was among the early arrivals for the worship service at Canyon Springs Christian Church.

      “How’s the book going?” The youthful-looking pastor, Jason Kenton, handed him a stack of bulletins for distribution. As a deacon, one of Jake’s many church-related responsibilities was to meet and greet on Sunday mornings.

      “It’s coming along.” Although not nearly as fast as he’d hoped. He wished Grandma had mentioned months ago that Granddad was working on a history of the town, hoping to have it printed for the community’s eighty-fifth birthday celebration at the end of next month. Jake was determined to finish it.

      Surprisingly, or maybe not so surprisingly considering how Granddad was never one to brag about himself, he hadn’t included a chapter on his own life as one of the town’s influential citizens. Jake intended to rectify that omission. But the clock was ticking.