Chapter Nine

“SO. TELL ME ABOUT THIS WOMAN.”

Gabe dropped to one knee on the dew-covered turf and wrestled the slobbery ball out of Fitz’s mouth, then lobbed it across the park before he dared answer. “You mean Connie Green’s granddaughter?”

Gabe’s best friend, Luke Anderson, raised an eyebrow at him over his paper cup of coffee. “Of course I mean Connie Green’s granddaughter. Unless you had two dates last night and the Jasper Lake grapevine failed me completely. Which it wouldn’t.”

There was a reason for that, considering that on top of his web design business, Luke was also head of the Jasper Lake Chamber of Commerce and the one most often responsible for manning the visitor center in the community building. He checked in with businesses on a regular basis, which meant that he was the first one to pick up any town gossip.

Still, that was fast, even for him.

“It wasn’t a date. I’m taking her to the courthouse in Georgetown this morning to file her claim against her grandmother’s estate.”

“With what, less than two days on the clock?”

“Something like that.” Gabe cast him a look, knowing full well where he was going with this. “It’s just a stay of execution, though. She wants nothing to do with the town. Needs the money.”

Luke shrugged. “Then you’re just going to have to change her mind.”

“You sound like my grandfather.” It was an easy enough thing to say, just like it was easy enough for Kendall to say he had to come up with an alternative to the resort development. The reality was much more difficult. “Hey, she’s single . . . maybe you could change her mind.”

Luke almost choked on his coffee. “You’re pimping me out?”

“You know that’s not what I meant. But you’d have a better chance at convincing her than I would.” Luke was pretty much regarded as the town’s most eligible bachelor—he’d heard some of the teenage girls referring to him as “a Hemsworth.” He guessed that was the standard these days, and if he squinted and pretended Luke was a stranger, he supposed he could pass for a Norse god. Kind of.

“Whatever. You’re single too. Amanda Lee is still dropping hints with me, by the way.”

Fitz finally made it back to Gabe, having taken his sweet time at fetching, and dropped the slobbery ball at his feet. Gabe picked it up gingerly and snapped the leash back onto the dog’s collar. “I’m not interested in Amanda Lee.”

By silent agreement, they made their way over to the rustic wooden bench and sat down, Fitz shoving his way between them to be petted by whomever would oblige. Luke reached down and scratched his head automatically. “So what are you interested in?”

“At the moment? Inspiration.” Gabe fell back against the bench. “I spent three hours last night browsing the internet, hoping for some sort of idea that would convince the council we do not need the summer resort. And I’ve got no more than I did when I got elected. Attracting visitors during the summer with festivals and events? They’ve tried it. Two years in a row, the rowing regatta got canceled because of high winds, and the outdoor art festival ended up damaging thousands of dollars of canvases because of a freak hailstorm. To say that the members are jaded would be putting it mildly.”

Luke cleared his throat. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but would it really be the worst thing if they actually did demolish those houses and put in a resort? I mean, yes, they’re beautiful and they’ve been there as long as the town, but if it’s between them and us . . .”

Gabe shook his head resolutely. “It’s not just that. When you build a resort, especially a luxury one, it does bring in taxes and improve tourism. But it also encourages investors to buy up land cheap, build massive houses, and drive up real estate prices. Which is great for those people who want to sell their homes and move. But it raises property taxes and the cost of living for our elderly citizens who are barely surviving as it is. It ends up saving the town but hurting the people. If we’re going to let that happen, we might as well all move to Vail.”

“And that is why you are the person who needs to stop this.” Luke poked Gabe in the shoulder emphatically. “Because you understand the impact on the community. You’re a city planner. Why not build out a model of what the town will look like? Be honest . . . show them the shiny. And then demonstrate how it will hit everyone in their wallets. Most of the council members have been in the high country their entire lives, their families for generations. You hear how they gripe about the flatlanders in their Land Rovers gentrifying our small towns and making it unaffordable for anyone to actually live where they own businesses. It’s one thing to tell them. It’s another thing to show them.”

Gabe stared at him. It was so simple he felt like an idiot for not thinking of it before. “You’re right. You’re a genius.”

“That’s what I keep trying to tell you.”

“Are you willing to put your money where your genius is? I’ve got less than a month to put this together before the next council meeting. I’ve already stalled the vote once.”

Luke gave him an emphatic nod. “Whatever you need.”

For the first time in months, Gabe’s spirits lifted. Right now, the town only saw the good side of development. But once they understood the long-term negative impact on their community, perhaps they would see the value in a more conservative approach. It didn’t solve the problem of what to do, but it could at least get them to change the zoning, which would block the county from issuing permits for the resort, buying him time.

“Imagine seeing you here.” A female voice caught their attention and Gabe twisted around to see Kendall picking her way across the grass, hands hidden in her pockets. She was dressed even more casually today in a pair of leggings, ankle boots, and a quilted vest over a fuzzy sweater, an ensemble that did nothing to disguise a slim figure and soft curves.

“Now I see why Amanda Lee doesn’t have a chance,” Luke murmured, pushing to his feet.

“Shut up,” Gabe gritted out from the corner of his mouth before he smiled and rose as well. “Morning, Kendall. You found me out. Playing hooky in the park.”

She grinned and glanced at the dog. “And who is this handsome guy?”

“That would be Luke, but don’t say that to his face, because his ego is big enough as it is.”

Luke elbowed him hard in the ribs.

Kendall laughed and dropped to the ground before Fitz, who looked to be in ecstasy while she scratched his ears and neck. “You’re such a big boy. I bet you’re a good boy, aren’t you? What’s your name?”

Luke sent Gabe a look and Gabe shot it right back, laced with a threat. “Fitz,” he said finally. “He’s an Irish mastiff. Seemed like it fit.”

Kendall straightened, but Fitz decided that he was going to lean against his new best friend and almost knocked her off her feet before she could brace herself. “I think I might have named him Secretariat.”

“Trust me, the thought did occur to me, but he’s too lazy to be named after a racehorse. He thinks he’s a lapdog.”

“Aww, you’re just a sweetheart, aren’t you?” There went the baby voice again, followed by another affectionate pat. Fitz was officially in love. She focused her attention on Luke finally and held out a hand. “I take it you really are Luke? I’m Kendall.”

“Yes. It’s nice to meet you, Kendall. I was actually just going.”

“Oh, don’t leave on my account. I got up early and wanted coffee, but I didn’t want to disturb Mr. Brandt. I’m supposed to be back at the B and B for breakfast in a little bit.”

“No, really, I have to get some work done before I open the visitor center.” Luke smiled. “Have fun, you two.” He gave a wave and turned on his heel, his smirk just a shade too knowing. There was no way Gabe was ever going to convince his friend that he had no interest in Kendall now, especially when Luke had seen his eyes just about pop out of his head like a cartoon. The only thing that could have made it more obvious was an “ooga” horn for sound effect.

“He seems nice,” Kendall said, watching Luke walk away, her brow slightly furrowed. Apparently their nonverbal communication had not escaped her.

“Nice isn’t the word I’d use, but we’ve known each other forever, so he knows where all the bodies are buried.” Gabe smiled to make it clear he was joking. “Opa’s place treating you okay? How’d you sleep?”

“Like a log. I think that’s the most comfortable mattress I’ve ever slept on. I’m not going to want to leave.”

Score one for his grandmother’s decorating. Gabe glanced at his watch. “You said something about coffee?”

“Please.” The word came out in a relieved whoosh, and she disentangled herself from Fitz so she could fall into step beside Gabe. “It’s not as cold today.”

“It’s every bit as cold. You’re just adjusting to the weather.”

“Maybe,” she said, though she didn’t sound convinced. “As soon as we’re done with breakfast, we’ll head over to Georgetown?”

“Absolutely. While we’re there, we really should do some sightseeing. There’s a cool old steam train and a mine tour.”

Kendall shot him a look. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. Why not? It’s something that is pretty much required for all fourth graders—”

“—which means that I did it in fourth grade. Went to school in Denver, remember?” She shook her head like she found him amusing. “No offense, but I really need to get over to the houses and start working. As good as Sophie is, my clients will start to notice if I’m not around.”

It had been a rather lame way to try to interest her in the area, and Gabe kept forgetting that she’d grown up in Denver, considering everything about her screamed California girl. Maybe this was a lost cause.

Nope, he could not think that way. The easiest way to prevent the building of the resort was to prevent the sale of the property, and to do that, he needed her on his side. She needed to feel connected to this place, which made their next stop ideal.

Gabe nudged Kendall to indicate they should cross the street and led her straight to an old brick building emblazoned with a graffiti-style mural that proclaimed Main Street Mocha. He looped Fitz’s leash around the bike rack, where the dog plopped down with a resigned sigh, then held the door open for her. The harsh sound of the grinder and the hiss of a steam wand met them as soon as they stepped through the door.

He inhaled the scent of coffee appreciatively. Secretly—or maybe not so secretly, considering that every candid photo of him at town events involved him holding a paper cup—Main Street Mocha was his favorite spot in town. It was all black steel and raw wood with mottled rust-and-gray acid-stained concrete, kind of industrial-rustic chic. A burnt wood placard with a passport stamp design and the words Solid Grounds Coffee Company sat just behind the bar, a tribute to the Denver roastery from which Delia sourced her beans. She was adamant about only using fresh, local, and sustainable, so the shop was littered with photos and logos from the Colorado businesses she considered partners.

Gabe watched Kendall’s face as she surveyed the place, wondering if it would meet her evidently high design standards. Her expression gave nothing away, but there was a slight lift of her eyebrows when she leaned over and murmured, “I love the floor treatment. People have no idea how hard it is to get this effect on concrete.”

They were next, so Gabe stepped up and smiled at the middle-aged woman behind the counter. “Morning, Delia.”

“Morning, Gabe.” Delia Crawford was the only one who didn’t call him Mayor Gabe. Of course, she was also the only one in town who looked like a roller derby queen with her forties-inspired clothes, victory rolls, and armfuls of tattoos. “Twice in an hour? That’s a record even for you.”

“Actually, my new friend Kendall here needs her caffeine fix.”

“That’s what we’re here for.” Delia shot Kendall a welcoming smile. “What can I get you, hon?”

“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.”