Convincing the Rancher. Claire McEwen
Читать онлайн книгу.
The key was to be patient. “I think if you keep an open mind, you’ll find that the wind project can benefit Benson in many ways.”
“Maybe.” But there was no maybe in his tone.
“I’m sorry, but it feels like you are making this personal,” she ventured.
“I’m the mayor and I’ve lived here all my life. Of course I take anyone trying to put a large energy project in our area a bit personally.” He paused, his voice more neutral when he spoke again. “Where is this company hoping to site these windmills?”
“East of town,” Tess replied. “But I don’t have the exact location yet. They promised to send me maps within the next couple days. As soon as I know, I’ll inform you, of course.”
“And I assume they’ll be providing environmental impact reports, a public comment period, et cetera?”
“Of course. My job is to present all the relevant information to the community.”
“And you’ll be in town for...”
“About a month, I think.”
“A month.” She watched his face for some clue as to how he felt about that. But his jaw was set, and it was hard to read more than stubbornness in his expression.
“Well, I look forward to hearing what you have to say, Tess.” There was a touch of sarcasm in his tone.
“I think you need to reconsider my offer to get a replacement.” Tess tried again. “Clearly you have a problem with me.”
“I don’t.” He didn’t elaborate, just glanced at the old clock hanging on the wall. Its ticking was suddenly loud in the silence between them. “Listen—” he looked frustrated, as if the confidence he’d been projecting was wavering a touch “—can I suggest we reschedule this meeting for tomorrow morning? Say nine-thirty? It will give us both a little time to regroup.”
Tess bit back the words that wanted to spill out—words containing all the arguments she’d been studying up on over the past few weeks. He was right about one thing. Now wasn’t the time to make them. She needed to step back, regain composure and strategize on how she would present the details of this project to him in the most positive light. “You’re right, Mayor Jacobs. I’m tired from the drive and I’m sure you have a lot to do.” She motioned vaguely to the stack of papers on his desk. “We’ll meet tomorrow morning. Perhaps by then you will have reconsidered your decision. I have some extremely competent colleagues who could take over for me.”
“Oh, no.” He sat back down in his chair and crossed his long legs with his boots up on the desk once more. “I choose you, Tess. So get used to it.”
She noticed how thick and muscular his thighs looked under his jeans, and instantly a searing memory of what they’d felt like in Phoenix surfaced. Muscles, ropey and taut, so big her hands had felt dwarfed as they moved along them.
Tess jerked her gaze from his legs and glared at his face instead. “I may have to stay here and work, but I don’t work for you. So please don’t tell me what to get used to.”
He raised his hands in mock defense. “Point taken.”
“Thank you.” There was nothing more to say. Tess turned and walked sharply out of his office. Her shoulders ached, muscles taut as if already gearing up for the fight ahead. Her stilettos hit heavily on the marble floor, the sound echoing in the empty hall. She wondered what Slaid was thinking as he listened to her walk away.
THE SUITCASE SLIPPED out of her hand and landed on her foot. Tess gasped, tears welling in her eyes. She was not going to cry. No matter what life threw at her—and it had thrown a lot worse than a resentful mayor and a painful suitcase—she never gave it the satisfaction of her tears. She waited for the pain to pass, pushing it away until it subsided into a minor, throbbing inconvenience. Slamming the hatchback of her rental Jeep, she studied the house Samantha had found for her to rent. It was three blocks off Benson’s main street, putting it right on the edge of town.
When she’d been a kid, growing up in the despair of public housing and the chaos of foster homes, Tess had dreamed of living in a house like this—a classic, clapboard, turn-of-the-century cottage with a white picket fence. She’d never have dared to hope, back then, that her dreams would come true. An odd lump formed in her throat as she stared at the evidence to the contrary. Though nowadays, a country cottage wasn’t really her style.
“Tess!” Her name was accompanied by the roar of an engine and Samantha pulled up to the curb, looking surprisingly at home at the wheel of a huge silver SUV. Her friend cut the engine and tumbled out to fling her arms around Tess. “I’m so glad you’re here!”
“Look at you in your mom-mobile! You are the cutest pregnant lady ever, Sam!” Tess tried to hug Samantha back but it was hard to get close enough with a baby bump between them. Her friend was in the third trimester, and on her tiny frame, her pregnancy was really showing. “This isn’t working!” Tess pulled back laughing and put one arm around Samantha’s shoulders instead. She’d missed this closeness. For the first time since she’d arrived in Benson she felt a glimmer of hope. At least she’d have a chance to reconnect with her friend. “How’d the meeting with the mayor go?” Samantha asked.
Tess had no idea how to answer that. “Fine,” she lied. Samantha picked up one of her suitcases, but Tess grabbed it back. “You are pregnant! I’ve got the bags.”
Samantha sighed and opened the rickety gate. “It’s so weird to have everyone trying to look after me.”
“Get used to it. You’ve got a couple more months to go.” Tess yanked her unwieldy suitcase roughly over the flagstone path.
“You know what else is weird and kind of terrifying?” Samantha asked as she pulled out a key for the door. “Trying to choose a house for you. You live in a beautiful, modern apartment with a view of the entire city! There’s nothing like that out here.”
“I’m sure it’s great,” Tess reassured her.
She was lying again. Nothing was going to be great for her in Benson, especially with her and Slaid’s history getting in the way, but that wasn’t Samantha’s problem.
“I think you’ll like it, though I still wish you’d stay with us. We have our house, and we have my grandmother’s old farmhouse furnished and ready.”
Tess felt a pang of guilt. “That’s so kind of you, but I think if I stay in town it will be easier to make contacts in the community.” She didn’t want to hurt her friend’s feelings, but the last thing Tess wanted was to stay in Samantha’s house, or anywhere on Samantha’s ranch, where life revolved around her friend’s pregnancy. She wished her memories didn’t hurt so much, but they did. “Besides, aren’t you turning Grandma Ruth’s house into a bed-and-breakfast? You don’t need me getting in the way while you’re working on it.”
Samantha smiled sheepishly. “I don’t know... Maybe I’m too sentimental... I can’t seem to change anything about it. So for now it’s my office and a guesthouse. Perfect for friends...like you!”
Tess realized her excuses weren’t satisfying her friend, and there was no way she could tell Samantha the real reason. Because despite a decade of friendship, Tess had never explained that she’d had a baby—or that she’d placed it with an adoptive family. Or that she’d never been able to forget those few moments she’d held her son, and the complete devastation she’d felt saying goodbye to him. There were a lot of things she’d never told anyone, and it was way too late to start now. So she shrugged and plastered a smile on her face. “Unfortunately, my friend, I am here to work, and being near you would be too tempting. I’d want to hang around your gorgeous ranch and gossip all day.”
That seemed to appease Samantha. She pushed open the front door, revealing a small entryway,