Chapter Fourteen

GABE WOKE UP EARLY the next day with a sense of anticipation. It took him several seconds to remember why—he’d agreed to help Kendall go through her grandmother’s house today—and several more to figure out what had woken him up—Fitz whining and nudging his hand from the side of the bed. He pushed himself to a sitting position and scrubbed a fist across his eyes, then stumbled to the bedroom’s sliding-glass door. “Okay, Fitz. Here you go. Have at it.”

The dog bounded outside to do his business, while Gabe leaned against the cold metal doorframe, letting the bite of morning air chill his skin and bring him to full alertness. A quiver of nerves hovered in his stomach, this time not anticipation but the awareness of all his responsibilities. His to-do list, which had felt so manageable last night, now felt insurmountable. It was a good thing that Fitz’s incongruously tiny bladder had woken him before the first glimmer of light had even touched the horizon, because he was going to need all the time he could get.

Once Fitz came trotting back, no more a fan of the cold than Gabe was this early, he locked the sliding door and proceeded to the kitchen to make a big pot of coffee. He dug two leftover slices of pepperoni pizza from the fridge—remnants of his lunch two days ago—plopped it cold on the plate, and lingered in his bare feet by the coffeepot until it finished brewing. His grandfather would be horrified by the idea of cold pizza for breakfast. Gabe had never understood why pancakes or waffles with enough sugar to be dessert were acceptable ways to start a day, but a slice of pizza that encompassed all the major food groups was not.

He grinned at his usual argument, his smile fading when he remembered how annoyed Madeline had gotten over such things. She’d constantly been on him to act more mature, stop being an overgrown frat boy—which was ironic considering she’d always complained to him how distant and focused on their careers her other boyfriends had been. He supposed it was good their relationship had fizzled out, because looking back, it seemed that she wouldn’t have been happy no matter how he acted.

“Well, now I’m a town mayor,” he said, toasting no one with his pizza. “Doesn’t get any more mature than that.”

Mayor of a town that desperately needed him to stop reminiscing and get down to work. He brought his food and coffee to the small kitchen table where he’d left his laptop and lifted the lid. He’d made major progress in downloading the town’s layout to his drafting software; with the exception of some of the outlying homes, the buildings were more or less present. Now he just had to pull the details into the street view so that they’d look somewhat real on the animation.

The next time he looked up, the sun was glaring through the windows and into his eyes. He glanced at his watch and almost spilled his coffee on his laptop when he jumped out of his chair. Shoot. It was already after eight. He needed to get to the office if he was going to get anything done before he met Kendall.

Twenty minutes later, showered and dressed with his wet hair still dripping onto his collar—something he regretted the minute he stepped out into the cold—he was in his truck and on his way to his office. He raised a hand in greeting at the single car he passed on the way—Mrs. Marshall and her son—but otherwise the town was as deserted as ever.

Would it be so terrible to see some life and excitement around here? his conscience needled him.

No, it wouldn’t, but he would far prefer to see the life and excitement that came from a vibrant full-time community rather than the transient flatlanders who arrived along with their expensive Range Rovers and treated the full-time citizens of Jasper Lake like ignorant backwater townies. He might think he was being a little harsh but for the fact that the change was already underway in places like Idaho Springs and Steamboat Springs, and fully realized in Breckenridge and Keystone. Yes, they had vibrant economies and year-round crowds, but they were becoming clones of Vail and Aspen, their former character lost. He was not going to let that happen to Jasper Lake.

He parked in front of his office building, a renewed sense of purpose in his chest, and fumbled his laptop and travel coffee mug while he climbed out of his truck.

“Morning, Gabe.”

Gabe twisted to see Bruce McKay, owner of the snowmobile and boat rental, behind him and raised his coffee cup in salute. “Morning, Bruce. You still good to help with the bonfire this weekend?”

“Wouldn’t miss it. I’ve got my propane torch ready.”

“Maybe we leave the torch behind this time, eh? We can’t afford to burn down the park.” Gabe grinned at him, gave another friendly wave, and proceeded into the town hall building.

Linda was already at her desk when he entered, where she no doubt had been since 7 a.m., her earbuds in while she typed once again. She looked up when he entered and gave him a mischievous smile. “Late night?”

He looked at her quizzically.

“Someone saw you with Kendall Green coming back from the other side of the lake. Decided to show her Make-Out Point, did you?”

Geez. “It’s called Lookout Point, but yes. I thought she’d like to see the town from above. I’m supposed to be convincing her not to sell her property, remember?”

“Ooh, look who’s defensive.”

Gabe rolled his eyes. “Of course I’m defensive when you call it Make-Out Point.” Though knowing his motives for helping Kendall were neither 100 percent pure nor 100 percent related to the town’s well-being, he couldn’t protest too much. “I’m going to try to get a few things done and then I’m headed out for the afternoon.”

“Kendall?” Linda grinned.

“Yes, Kendall. I offered to help her go through her grandmother’s house. She’s finding it a little . . . difficult.”

Linda sobered. “Can you imagine being in her shoes? Finding out you had family the whole time you were in foster care? That’s terrible. She has to feel doubly abandoned.”

“I’m sure she does.” He paused. “You don’t know about any of this, do you? I mean, I knew Connie Green better than a lot of people, but she never let on what happened to her daughter or granddaughter, at least not to me.”

Linda shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know any more than you. I didn’t even hear any gossip about it.”

“Which is weird, right? Here, there’s gossip about everything. I can’t even eat sandwiches with Kendall without you asking me about it.”

“Maybe it was too painful for Connie to talk about? If there’s no information, there’s no gossip. Right?”

“I suppose so.” He shook his head. It wasn’t relevant to his task, but he still wished that he could offer some explanation to Kendall. Part of the small-town package was everyone knowing everyone else’s business, and it was unusual for there to be a huge blank surrounding one of their own. “Anyway, I’ll have my cell phone and laptop with me, so feel free to put through any important calls today. Hopefully this won’t take more than the rest of the week, and I’ll be back to my regular schedule on Monday.”

Gabe went to his office and set up his laptop, but he was too distracted to concentrate. It was weird that they didn’t have any more information on Carrie or Kendall; it was as if they had just dropped off the face of the planet. But the fact that Connie had left her home to Kendall meant she hadn’t dismissed her, even if she had merely been holding on to her last shred of hope.

Maybe they would get lucky and uncover something at the house that would give them some hints about what had actually happened . . . and why Kendall was the Jasper Lake daughter the town had forgotten.

Kendall’s half-formed plan to get out to the Lakeshore properties early the next day was thwarted by a late night and an exceptionally comfortable bed. When she awoke, sunlight was already streaming in through the crack between the curtains, the chirp of birds alerting her to the dawn of a new day. She threw the covers back, half-panicked, before she realized that she’d never texted Gabe her plans, so she technically wasn’t late for anything.

She took her time showering and doing her hair and getting dressed, not willing to admit that she took extra care with her appearance. She’d be lying to herself if she said last night hadn’t sparked a glimmer of personal interest in Gabe, but she’d also be lying if she said she had any idea what to do about it. All she knew was that the look he gave her, like he found her enchanting, was something she wouldn’t mind seeing again.

Not that it really mattered. She’d be done with this project in three days tops, and she already had the name and number of a moving company that was willing to come all the way to Jasper Lake to pack and ship the furniture she planned on removing from Connie Green’s home. There was no future for her here, and it would be best for them all if she managed to remember it.

Still, she fluffed her hair one last time before pulling her cap on, arranging the waves so they fell neatly over her shoulders, and checked her rear view in the full-length closet mirror to reassure herself that her butt did look as great in these jeans as the saleswoman had promised. She grinned at her own vanity. Before the day was done, she’d be covered in dust and dirt. The job didn’t exactly scream sexy.

Downstairs, she declined Mr. Brandt’s kind offer of breakfast but gladly accepted a pumpkin scone in a paper bag on her way out. Impulsively, she decided to leave her SUV at the B and B and instead walk the few blocks to town. By the time she stepped foot on the populated part of Main Street, her nose felt numb and her cheeks stung from the cold, but she couldn’t deny that she felt invigorated. When she pushed through the door of Main Street Mocha, the warmth of the interior was a delicious contrast to the chill outside.

Delia looked up from the espresso machine at the ding of the front-door bell, and her face transformed into a smile. “Morning, Kendall!”

Wow. The coffee shop owner had remembered her name after one visit. Kendall returned the smile. “Good morning.”

“What are you having? Pumpkin pie latte again or do you want to try something new?”

Kendall scrutinized the board. “Mr. Brandt sent me with a pumpkin scone, so I’ll try something else. What do you recommend?”

“Cinnamon-vanilla chai,” Delia said confidently.

“I’ll take that then.”

“Great. If you give me your scone, I’ll warm it up for you.”

Kendall handed it over along with her credit card. Delia studied her curiously while she waited for the card to process. “I overheard your conversation with Burton yesterday.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Did you mean it? You’re not going to sell to him?”

Kendall didn’t remember saying anything of the sort, but the way information flew in this town, her conversation with Gabe could have easily gotten around. “I don’t know that I’ll have a choice, but it definitely wouldn’t be my first one. What’s the deal with him anyway?”

Delia grimaced as she returned Kendall’s credit card and twisted away to stick the scone in the oven. “Developer. Need I say more?”

“Not all development is bad,” Kendall said reflexively. “He’s from Denver?”

“Park City, Utah. And I know not all development is bad. It’s just that he wants to turn us into a clone of his other resorts to make a quick buck, even if it destroys what makes Jasper Lake unique.”

“So what does make it unique?”

Delia smoothly moved to the espresso machine and started steaming the milk for Kendall’s chai. “You going to be around this weekend for the Pumpkin Festival?”

“The what?”

“The Pumpkin Festival. Food, music, a big bonfire in the park. We do it every year, and it draws people from towns all around the area, even some people from Denver and Boulder.”

Now that she mentioned it, that was probably what had been on the banner Gabe was putting up when she arrived. She just hadn’t looked close enough to notice anything beyond the splash of orange. “I don’t know,” she said finally. “A lot depends on how the next couple of days go.”

Delia finished making the chai and handed it over in a doubled-up paper cup. The oven beeped at the same time, and she pulled out Mr. Brandt’s scone and returned it to its paper bag. “Well, if you can, stay. You’ll see what I mean.”

“I’ll try.” She raised her cup in a salute of thanks and twisted away from the counter.

“Hey, Kendall?”

Kendall twisted back around.

“If you don’t have anything to do tomorrow night, we’re having a little girls’ night out. You think you might like to join us?”

Kendall blinked, startled by the offer. She’d met Delia exactly twice and she was inviting her to hang out with her friends? “Um. Maybe?”

Delia smiled brightly, like she’d agreed. “Great.” She grabbed a business card from the counter and scrawled something on the back. “That’s my cell number. Just text me when you know for sure, and I’ll give you all the details.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Kendall tucked the card in her pocket and scurried out of the coffee shop while she contemplated what had just happened.

Delia was probably angling for another opportunity to convince her not to sell to Burton. She shouldn’t read too much into things. Then again, she’d seemed to genuinely want Kendall to join her, and she certainly seemed like an interesting person. What would it hurt?

She filed that thought away for later consideration as she rejoined the sidewalk and ambled slowly down the street. Either it was warmer today or she was adjusting to the weather, because between the hot drink in her hand and her cold-weather gear, she was beginning to enjoy the bite of cold on her skin. It had been a shock, truly—a quick check of the weather back home said Pasadena was going to hit ninety-five today—but she could see why so many people retreated to the mountains. A summer resort would certainly be popular for those who were stuck in the sweltering temperatures down below for much of the summer.

She was so lost in thought that she didn’t even notice she was walking past the town hall until a familiar voice called her name. She turned to see Gabe waving to her from across the street, next to his huge truck.

“Hey!” She looked both ways unnecessarily—there were no cars in sight—before crossing over to him. “Good morning.”

“When I didn’t hear from you, I thought you’d gone over to Lakeshore.”

“Sorry, I forgot.” Kendall held up her cup. “I got distracted by Delia’s chai.”

“She blends that herself, you know. She takes special pride in her chai.”

“As well she should.” Kendall wrapped her hands around the paper cup and took another sip.

“So I was just going to head over there. You want a ride?”

She hesitated. All day with Gabe with no way to leave on her own? Then she realized that was stupid, because he would probably need to leave before she did. “Yeah. Sure. Thanks.”

Gabe unlocked the truck with his key fob, and she jumped in the passenger seat before he could open the door for her. He climbed into the driver’s seat and started it up with a roar. “Sleep well last night?”

“Like a rock. I know I said it before, but that bed is something else.”

“Don’t I know it. I keep threatening to steal one for my own house.” He cast her a quick look as he backed out of the parking spot and started down the street. “Are you ready for this?”

“Honestly? Not really. But I have a plan. Feel like being my design assistant for the day?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I’ll take photos, but it would be helpful if you could take notes for me. It will save a lot of time.”

“What are you going to do with the personal items?” Gabe asked.

Kendall sobered. She’d been trying not to think of that. It was one thing to figure out what to do with furniture, another to dispense with clothes and memorabilia. “I think I’ll take out the things I want to ship back, and then anything that’s left over can go in an estate sale.” She paused. “I was thinking that maybe it could benefit the town. I’m sure you have some charities or an emergency fund that could use the money.”

“We do. But, Kendall, that’s all rightfully yours. The proceeds—”

“I don’t want it,” she said quickly. “All those things are from her life here. It’s only right that the money go back to the town.” And she didn’t want to have to see all that evidence of how life had gone on without her, how quickly she’d been forgotten. If she’d had a missing daughter and granddaughter, she would have moved heaven and earth to get them back. Not just given up on them when they disappeared because of some stupid teenage decisions.

“Okay, whatever you want. But maybe let’s see what’s there before you decide. You may change your mind.”

“I won’t.” Kendall took a deep breath and made her heart hard and her nerves steady. She could do this. The quicker she finished, the quicker she could get back home and start on something that actually did require her attention: the Woolridge House.

When they finally arrived at the Lakeshore homes, Gabe parked at the curb in front of Connie’s place, and she hopped out immediately. This time, she knew exactly what key belonged to the front door and stepped into a blast of cold. These old houses were solidly built, but judging from the temperature drop, they were drafty.

“I’ll fire up the heater,” Gabe said, glimpsing the propane equipment near the front entry. “Where do you want to start?”

“The parlor,” she said, heading left. She pulled out her phone and a notebook while Gabe got the heater started, and then handed the writing materials over to him. “Are you ready?”

“You don’t waste any time.” He flipped open the notebook and uncapped the pen, poised to begin.

She repressed a smile at his earnestness. Most guys would be insulted to be asked to play her assistant, but Gabe was taking her completely seriously. She started with the first item that caught her eye and raised her phone to take several photos of the front, side, and inside. “Numbers 0054 through 0059. Mission oak cabinet.” She ran her hands along the interior to assess that everything was solid wood, then pulled out the drawer to inspect for dovetail joining. In the bottom of the drawer was exactly what she was looking for. “Limbert. Between 1902 and 1905.”

Gabe scribbled down everything she said, then looked at her quizzically. “How do you know the dates?”

She pointed to the mark burned into the drawer. “You see here how it says Grand Rapids? After 1906, it would have also said Holland. So we know it has to be somewhere in that five-year period. I have some old Charles Limbert catalogs at home, so if this was an advertised case piece, I might be able to narrow it down even further.”

“Is it valuable?”

Kendall smiled. “Quite. And it’s well-preserved too.”

They proceeded through the rest of the room that way, recording chairs, tables, even lamps, but bypassing an antique grandfather clock that needed so much restoration work it wasn’t worth the investment.

“You really know your stuff,” Gabe said. “How did you learn all this? Did you go to school?”

“Kind of.” Kendall got down on her hands and knees to look beneath another piece, searching for a maker’s mark. “I had some design training and I did a certificate program at Sotheby’s in London. But the rest has just been lots and lots of firsthand experience. Collecting and studying old catalogs and books. Making some very expensive mistakes.”

“Like what?”

“Fall front desk, flame mahogany, unmarked. Probably early nineteenth century.”

Gabe stared at her and she gestured to the notepad. He realized that she was talking about the furniture in front of them and quickly scribbled the information down.

“Basically, I got taken in by a good fake, spent way too much, and it was my boss who saved me from putting it in a client’s home. He called it a very expensive learning experience. We later used it in another project, where the homeowner didn’t care so much about provenance or authenticity, but at a much-reduced cost.” Kendall cringed at the memory. She was lucky that Joseph Kramer had been a kind man and hadn’t fired her for her mistake, given that she’d made it on the company dime, but he’d also impressed on her the need to thoroughly research every piece before she shelled out any money and especially before she placed it in a client’s home. She’d never made the same error again.

Partly because she’d gotten cynical and partly because she’d expanded her wealth of knowledge to the point she could tell an antique from a fake within the first twenty seconds. And so far, every piece in this house had been real.

“Now the rugs.” She took a photo of the Persian rug and then flipped up the back to expose the knotwork. “Wool over cotton, Kashan in cream, red, and gold. 1920 or later, but I’m going to guess 1960s.”

“How can you tell?”

“Instinct.” Kendall smiled at him. “And wear. The cream fields didn’t exist before the 1920s, when Persian weavers started responding to Western demand for more subdued colors. There’s a bit of color fading and some wear, typical of a rug that’s sixty years old or so. But I might be able to track down the exact pattern to get a better date. Close enough to know it’s vintage.” She paused. “Connie had good taste.”

“Looks like it runs in the family.”

Kendall cleared her throat and looked away. The only way she’d make it through this was by hiding behind a veneer of professionalism. She didn’t need to be reminded of her personal connection. “Let’s go to the library next.”

“Kendall, I don’t want to push, but this might be an opportunity. To learn a little about your grandmother. To put your past behind you.”

She paused in the doorway of the library and inhaled deeply, suppressing her instinct to fire back angry words. His tone was kind and she had no doubt that he meant well, but even considering his experience with his own parents, he couldn’t understand. Yes, he had been lied to, but his father had cared enough to be in his life, even under the guise of a family friend. There was no way he could grasp the depth of her anger and hurt.

She leveled her voice, but she didn’t turn. “My only family abandoned me, Gabe. A few pieces of furniture will never change that.”

Gabe immediately knew he had made a misstep with Kendall, because the easy camaraderie they’d established evaporated. It wasn’t that she became rude or even stopped joking with him. She simply erected an invisible barrier between them that he couldn’t pinpoint but could feel nonetheless. By even suggesting there might be a way to understand her birth family, he’d unintentionally put himself on their side, not hers. And that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Still, as they moved through the remaining rooms downstairs, there was no getting back those early moments of connection or that fragile, fleeting trust they’d established the night before at the lookout.

Why does it matter so much to you? You’ve known her less than two days. Two days wasn’t enough to feel betrayed or like he’d betrayed her. They were virtual strangers. She had a life in another state, and he was merely a means to an end for her.

And yet he already cared about her. Maybe it was the part of him that rooted for the underdog—the same part that had led him to take a job with a nonprofit instead of a slightly more lucrative city planner position—that wanted to see things turn out for her. And maybe it was his ridiculous impulse to be a do-gooder that made him want to be part of making that happen.

Or maybe it was just the way she unconsciously pushed a blonde wave away from her face and tucked it behind her ear while she was thinking, looking so appealing that he wanted to reach out and do it for her.

It was definitely not the way her tight jeans hugged every curve and made his mouth dry in unguarded moments.

Probably.

His responsibility here was to the town. Their interests just happened to align at the moment. But if that changed, he knew full well what he’d have to choose. No matter how much he disliked it.

Once the clock started to edge past five and the light outside changed from warm sunset to the bluish hint of falling twilight, Kendall crawled out from under the dining room table and stretched her arms overhead with a crack. “I don’t know about you, but I think I’m done here. All this crawling and contorting has got my back in knots. I don’t suppose there’s a massage therapist in town?”

“Unfortunately not. And the nearest chiropractor is in Georgetown.” He offered a hand to help her up, which after a moment of reluctance, she took. “What do you say we go grab something to eat?”

Her expression shuttered suddenly. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll do dinner on my own tonight. I’ve got some work to do, so I’ll probably just pick something up from the sandwich shop and eat in front of my computer.”

“Sure. I understand.” He was right: he had ruined things between them. She didn’t want to spend any more time with him than she had to. “I have plenty of things to catch up on myself.”

Now her expression turned unsure. “I’m sorry. I forgot you were playing hooky from your real job to help me. If you don’t have time to come over here tomorrow, I totally understand.”

“No, it’s fine,” he said, even though he still had hours in front of the computer ahead, overlaying details onto wireframes for his animation. And that was just one of the townscapes he had to put together. He was definitely going to need to enlist Luke’s help to get this done any time this century.

“I don’t think it is, but thank you.” She paused, her expression softening. “This would have been much more difficult to do alone.”

“It’s my pleasure. You ready to go?”

“Sure.” She turned off the heater and lugged it into the front entry, then followed him out onto the stoop, where she locked the door.

Knowing full well she was trying to race him to his truck so he couldn’t open the door for her, Gabe still got there first and yanked it open. “My lady.”

She shot him a knowing grin before climbing in.

The impulse to say something stupid was strong enough that he opted for silence on the way back to town. Only when he stopped in front of the B and B did he finally look at her. “Meet you at the house tomorrow? Say, ten o’clock?”

“Perfect. I’ll see you there.” She hopped out of the cab and gave him a wave before slamming the door. She didn’t look back.

Gabe pulled away from the curb and immediately voice-dialed Luke.

His friend picked up on the first ring. “So. How’d your antiques date go?”

Gabe rolled his eyes. “I managed to tick her off within the first two hours, and now she’s gone polite on me. Besides, it wasn’t a date.”

“Sure it wasn’t. You always cut out on work to ‘help a stranger.’” Even over the phone, Gabe could hear the air quotes.

He chuckled. “Well, I’m paying for it now, and I could use some help. I don’t suppose you’d like to sacrifice your evening to do some really boring graphic design work?”

Luke paused like he was thinking. “What are you offering?”

“Pizza and beer?”

“The good kind?”

“The good kind of pizza or the good kind of beer?”

“Both. My help doesn’t come cheap.”

“Both then.”

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

Gabe grinned and hung up the phone. He had just enough time to stop by the market that served as both the town pizza parlor and its only convenience store. Fortunately, D’Angelo’s had the best pizza in Clear Creek County; the owner was a transplanted New Yorker who used to own a small chain of Brooklyn pizza parlors. A couple of times a year, he imported New York City municipal water to make his dough, not a small feat considering the winter weather conditions on both ends of that supply chain.

Forty-five minutes later, Gabe was walking through his front door, balancing a six-pack of a locally bottled microbrew on top of a large pepperoni and sausage pizza, the steam from the pie making the cardboard box soft and flimsy. As soon as he heard the telltale scrabble of nails against the hardwood floor, he off-loaded the pizza before he ended up beneath it and 120 pounds of dog at the same time.

“Hey, Fitz. How you doing, boy?” Gabe took a couple of minutes to scratch the dog’s head and belly, Fitz’s tongue lolling out in happiness, and then went to open the kitchen door. The poor canine made a beeline for it, no doubt having eagerly awaited his potty break. Gabe felt momentarily guilty. He usually came home on his lunch hour to walk his dog, but he’d been across the lake the whole day. Now that he thought about it, they hadn’t even stopped for lunch. He’d gotten caught up in the juggernaut of Kendall’s determination to finish the downstairs today.

When Fitz had done his business, Gabe let him back in, transferred two big scoops of food into his bowl, and gave him one more affectionate pat. He’d just managed to wash his hands and get out paper plates when a knock sounded at his front door. Luke.

“It’s open!” he yelled, and a second later came the scrape of the wooden doorframe.

“I would have expected Detroit to give you a little more caution.” Luke’s deep voice came from the other room, and he rounded the corner, looking like a Norwegian lumberjack in a plaid flannel shirt and work boots. As if the guy did anything more physical during his workday than lift his laptop. Gabe liked to tell him as much.

“Why bother?” Gabe pulled a beer from the cardboard carrier and offered it to Luke, who opened it without comment.

He took a drink and then twisted the bottle around to look at the label. “Nice. Didn’t cheap out on me.”

“Not tonight. You’re doing me a favor. Take the pizza to the dining room?”

Luke complied, and Gabe followed with the plates and a roll of paper towels. They were halfway through their second pieces before Luke finally asked, “So. Kendall Green?”

“What about her?”

“What’s the deal?”

“Just trying to convince her not to sell. Thought I could get her to feel some connection to the place, but she’s still way too angry at her birth family.”

Luke shrugged. “Can’t blame her, really. Who abandons their kid like that?”

“Yeah, I know.” Gabe took a bite of his pizza, once again regretting letting his mouth get ahead of him. He’d only wanted to help, but the truth was, nothing in his experience prepared him to understand that level of hurt.

After a few moments passed, Luke asked, “Exactly how convincing are you being?”

“Not convincing enough.” Too late, he caught the half smile his friend hid behind his pizza. “It’s not like that.”

“Why not? She’s gorgeous. In fact, if you’re not interested, I thought I might . . .” Luke broke off when Gabe shot him a look. “What? So you are interested?”

Yeah, he was interested all right, but . . . “It’s complicated.”

“Not so complicated. She was flirting with you yesterday. She’s interested, you’re interested . . .” Luke shrugged. “Seems like a compelling reason to stick around to me.”

And that was exactly why he couldn’t make a move. Kendall would think he was trying to manipulate her into doing what was best for the town, and she was already suspicious of everyone’s motivations here. There was no good way to navigate that minefield.

They ate pizza silently until Luke pushed away the remnants of the enormous pie and pulled his laptop from his satchel. “So. Tell me what we need to do here.”

Gabe ran down what he’d accomplished with his current project. “Now the trick is to pull images from the town website and map them to the buildings in the model.”

“Oh, that’s no problem.” Luke connected to Gabe’s wireless internet and his fingers flew over the keyboard as he logged in to the back end of the website. A couple of seconds later, he’d downloaded the entire image folder and uploaded it to a handoff site. “What now?”

Gabe had known this was the right play. Luke’s back-end access beat having to save every image individually. “I need to come up with a rendering to represent the hotel and resort. All I have is the bare minimum that Burton submitted to the city council.”

“Well, didn’t you say that he’s a Park City developer and all his resorts look the same? Shouldn’t be too hard to find images and drawings from his other sites and add them to your rendering. In fact, I bet if we search . . .”

It didn’t turn out to be quite as easy as Luke was making it out to be, but after three hours, they had a decent representation of the resort loaded and half the images of the town put in. That wasn’t the problem.

The problem was, it actually looked good. Burton was a well-known developer with a talented staff. The resort blended into the natural environment, about as well as a thirty-thousand-foot behemoth could, and he’d thought about ways to maximize both the views and the lake access. The building itself would no doubt be a resounding success. But that wasn’t their objection. The objection was the extra traffic and the environmental and economic impact, not to mention the changes to the intangible character of the town. Gabe started rendering four-lane divided highways with their encroachment on the surroundings and then, using his imagination, began working in the strip malls that would inevitably spring up on the side of the newly refurbished highway. He’d seen it before, and good as it might be for the tax base, it was the beginning of the end for the mountain-town character.

Finally Luke yawned and glanced at his watch. “It’s almost eleven. I’ve got some projects to finish, and I have to be up early tomorrow. I’m going to bail.”

“Thanks, man. You have no idea how much you helped.”

“Yeah, I do.” Luke gathered up his laptop and peripherals and shoved them back in his case. “Basketball Saturday?”

When Gabe hesitated, he laughed. “Point taken. You’ll be with Kendall. Or at least you hope you will be.”

Gabe couldn’t even deny it.