Chapter Thirty-Seven

THE MOTION PASSED, seven votes to two. As soon as Burton heard the decision, he stormed out of the room and slammed the chamber door behind him.

Gabe wasn’t sure which was more satisfying—the fact that the city council had taken his leadership on the rezoning issue or the fact that Burton was furious over it.

Actually, he suspected it was the cocky expression on the developer’s face that had swung a couple of votes in Gabe’s direction; his unofficial poll had made him think it was going to fall five to four in his favor. But those swing votes were tricky—they could have gone either way.

The temporary injunction had helped, though, coming through early this afternoon just as the attorney had predicted. It only granted them a stay of execution—even though the zoning had been changed, the condemnation proceeding was on file and they were going to have to deal with it one way or another. They had to bring the homes up to code, and then they would be safe. Permanently.

Gabe desperately wanted to call Kendall and let her know, but every time he tried to dial her number, he was met with a suffocating wall of No. God was not messing around. When he felt no such check at typing her email address, he sent her a quick message: The injunction was granted and the city council voted to change the zoning to historical residential. We’re safe for now.

He shoved his phone back into his pocket, refusing to mark the minutes until she replied.

Because if she didn’t . . . that would feel like more of an ending than even God’s clear direction.

“I don’t understand,” Kendall said. “We were all set to start today.”

Louise Marquette, the owner of the Woolridge House, regarded her sympathetically. “I’m so sorry, Kendall. When we didn’t get a reply from you confirming, we assumed that you were just too busy. And although you were definitely our first choice, we thought perhaps we would be better off going with someone who would be more committed to the project.”

Kendall stared at Louise in shock. This couldn’t be happening. She’d counted on the deposit for the Woolridge job to take her through Christmas, to help pay for the move and the first month’s rent on whatever house she ended up leasing. She wanted to argue, but their minds were made up, and anything more would be unprofessional. She stood and held out her hand. “Well, I’m very sorry it didn’t work out. It’s a beautiful home, and I hope you’re thrilled with the way it turns out.”

“We hope so too. Thank you, Kendall. I’m sorry again.”

Kendall walked out the front door of the home, climbed in her car, and immediately started to search her phone for the email she’d sent confirming that she would indeed start the job today.

And found it. In her drafts folder.

She blinked at the phone in disbelief. Had she really done that? She’d forgotten to press Send? With everything that had been going on at the time, she supposed it was possible, but it wasn’t like her.

She pushed her hands through her hair and forced down the panic. “‘All things work together for good to those who love God,’” she repeated to herself, a verse she’d learned when she’d tentatively walked into a neighborhood church last night. “You have some way of reinforcing lessons.”

She could only hope that God had a sense of humor. Because this faith thing was already new enough without making Him mad.

Then again, it wasn’t like He didn’t know what she was thinking anyway.

“Okay. What next?” She directed the words to the car’s ceiling and, not surprisingly, got no distinct response back. Hopefully some kind of answer would come before she ran out of money and a place to live.

She leaned her head back against her car’s headrest and concentrated on taking deep breaths to calm her fluttering heart. This was fine. It wasn’t like she didn’t have any prospects. She’d had a few inquiries for projects after the holidays, and there was a quick kitchen refresh between Thanksgiving and Christmas—one Sophie had just emailed her—that looked promising. Just because the big one had fallen through didn’t mean she was in trouble. She just needed to figure out a way to keep things afloat while she was moving into a less expensive place and Sophie was transitioning out.

Her phone dinged, her email notification. Her heart rose into her throat when she saw the sender: Gabriel Brandt. She opened the message and read it: The injunction was granted and the city council voted to change the zoning to historical residential. We’re safe for now.

She frowned and reread it. That was it? Not that she wasn’t thrilled to hear that they’d prevailed over Burton and his revenge plans, but she and Gabe had spent five hours on the phone on Saturday night. That was all he had to say to her? No asking her if she was okay. No wondering if she’d found a church like he recommended or if she’d actually bought a Bible.

Nothing saying that he missed her or wished she was there to help with what came next in Jasper Lake.

Kendall shook her head angrily to clear those thoughts. She wasn’t mad at him; she was mad at herself. Hadn’t part of her thought that maybe, now that they shared the same faith, however new and tenuous hers was, there might be hope for them? That he might reconsider his decision not to pursue a relationship with her?

But that wasn’t really the point, was it? That wasn’t why she’d decided to follow Jesus. She’d made that choice because it was no longer possible to ignore how God had already worked in her life, using the disasters for good, or at least better than it might have been.

She needed this relationship for herself, not just as a stepping-stone into a romance with Gabe.

She tapped out a reply, as brief and careful as his message had been: I’m so glad to hear that. Keep me posted. And let me know if you need my help with anything.

She dropped her phone into the cup holder and twisted her key in the ignition, ignoring the ache in her chest that didn’t seem to want to fade now that it had taken up residence. But she had plenty to keep her distracted. Plenty to keep her from dwelling on the irony: she was finally letting go of her fear of relationships, but it came too late for her to have the one she really wanted.

Gabe had his work cut out for him, keeping his mind off Kendall. She was first on his mind when he woke up in the morning and last on it when he went to bed. But his guidance had been clear, and as much as Gabe wanted to believe her brief reply changed the rules, he knew he was just trying to think up reasons to hear her voice again.

It wasn’t as though he didn’t have plenty to do. Now that the injunction had been issued and the zoning had been changed, it fell to him to start thinking about what they were going to do in place of the resort. The situation that he had been hired to remedy hadn’t changed: the town was still in danger, but this time the danger was the likelihood of it fading away slowly, dying season by season. Just because he was opposed to the development that Burton had wanted to bring to Jasper Lake didn’t mean he didn’t recognize the need for it to grow and thrive.

The answer came from a most unexpected place, carried by the most unexpected person. Gabe looked up at a knock at his office door when Linda was out to lunch, expecting to see one of the Jasper Lake citizens hoping to catch a minute of his time.

Instead, it was his father.

Gabe rose from his chair immediately, shocked into silence. He finally found his voice and stuck out his hand. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Do you want to have a seat?”

Robert shook his hand tentatively and then pulled out one of the armchairs in front of Gabe’s desk. “This is impressive, Son. It’s a nice little town.”

Gabe seated himself awkwardly behind his desk again, feeling as if he were meeting a stranger whose motivations he didn’t quite understand. It wasn’t so far from the truth. “First time you’ve been here?”

“First time in years. Back before the flood, it was quite the tourist destination. I’m not sure any of the towns up here have recovered.”

“They really haven’t,” Gabe said, glad to be on familiar footing. “But we’re working on some ideas.” He studied his father, who looked as uncomfortable as he felt. “What brings you up here? You know you could have just called if you needed to speak with me.”

“I know. But I wanted to talk to you in person.” Robert leaned forward a little in his chair. “I have a proposal for you.”

“Oh?”

“A business proposal actually. Given how the grant application turned out—”

“Wait. What? You’ve got news on the grant application?”

Robert looked confused. “You haven’t heard. When I got a call from Winnie, I assumed you’d already been notified. She was open to considering your application, but the rest of the committee didn’t feel it was fair to allow you to submit past the fall due date. They’ve pushed it to the spring. You’ve got a good chance of winning the grant from what I hear, but the earliest anyone will decide on it is May or June. And from what I understand—”

“—that’s going to be far too late. You’re right. The injunction is only temporary. And even getting a historic places designation isn’t going to be enough in the long term.” Gabe sat back in his chair, the wind knocked out of him. He’d been relying on the grant to make the updates on the houses. Had all their work been for nothing?

But then he realized that Robert had led with a business proposal, so surely he hadn’t driven up here to deliver bad news in person, especially bad news that he thought Gabe had already received. “What’s the proposal? Since clearly we are going to need other ideas.”

“Right.” Robert pulled out a hardback portfolio from his bag and slid it across the desk to Gabe. “This belongs to a young architect who has been working for me for the past couple of years, Astrid Elison.”

Gabe flipped it open. The images inside were pretty standard for a college architecture graduate: renderings and diagrams of her designs interspersed with black-and-white photos that helped convey the feeling of the structures. But they were arranged in a way that told a story, as much a picture book or a graphic design example as an architectural portfolio. In Gabe’s work at the nonprofit, he’d seen more than a few of these, and he couldn’t help but be impressed.

But he still didn’t know what it had to do with him. He said as much.

“Astrid’s focus is on sustainable architecture and multiuse spaces, but she’s particularly interested in how that intersects with historical preservation and city planning. Which is part of the reason she approached me for a job.” Robert smiled. “Hounded me is a more apt description, actually. She is a finalist for an architecture grant based on her portfolio, but she needs a subject for the final round of the grant competition. I mentioned something about Jasper Lake.”

Gabe’s eyebrows flew up. “She wants to come here and do what?”

“Well, that’s what you’ll need to work out with her, if you’re interested in going forward.”

“Why isn’t she here talking to me herself?”

“I would be partially underwriting the project since she would continue to be my employee. And if we can come to an agreement on something that would be beneficial for the town, Astrid, and my firm, I’m willing to make a substantial investment.” Robert smiled faintly. “And . . . I didn’t really want to share the second conversation I’ve had with you in decades with a twenty-two-year-old.”

Gabe couldn’t help but return the smile, though his mind was whirring. “What if she doesn’t get the grant?”

“If it makes financial sense, I’ll still invest. But we’re months away from that determination. These things take time to set into motion.”

Gabe leaned back in his seat. There was still something missing in the idea; Astrid surely wasn’t the only one interested in sustainable architecture and preservation in this day and age. They needed a hook, a new idea, if she had the slightest chance of winning the grant. And then it came to him, so obvious that he felt like an idiot for not thinking of it sooner. “How does she feel about technology?”

Robert’s brows knit together. “What do you mean?”

“What if her proposal was to demonstrate a remote-working community? It fits into the sustainable model because it’s a fully walkable/bikeable town. Requires no commuting, which consumes no fossil fuels and creates no pollution. Coworking spaces. Multiuse buildings. ‘Work virtually in the most beautiful town in Colorado.’”

Robert’s expression turned thoughtful. “This isn’t something you just came up with.”

“No. Kendall did. We were spitballing a couple of weeks ago, and she floated it as an idea to attract the younger set to the town. Low cost of living for start-ups. Work-life balance. As she said, millennials are into that, and if we’re going to survive, my generation is the one who will have to decide to come back to small-town living. And it’s also the generation that patronizes yoga studios and mountain bike shops and organic markets.”

“Which brings more retail to town . . .”

“Which then makes us more of a fully functioning, self-sufficient community, not as dependent on other towns for our goods and services,” Gabe finished.

Robert sat with the idea for a long moment, then smiled. “I like it. Let me propose it to Astrid and see what she says. And if she’s interested, I’ll put her in touch with you.”

“I have one request though.”

“What’s that?”

“I want Kendall Green on the design team.”

Another smile played at the edges of his father’s face. “And would this be for personal or practical reasons?”

“A little of both, to be honest. Her specialty is historic preservation and blending architectural styles. Trust me, we want someone like her helping us.”

“Are you asking me to give her a job?”

It wasn’t what Gabe had been thinking, but now that Robert said it, it sounded like an ideal solution. He hadn’t been sure she would come back if he asked her, and the salary he could offer her as a Jasper Lake employee couldn’t compare to what she was making as a designer. But if she was instead working for Robert and only tangentially with him . . . He waited for the familiar smack in the head that had met him every time he tried to contact Kendall, but it was conspicuously absent. Apparently God was okay with this course of action. Or at least Gabe hoped He was, now that he’d already put it out there.

“That’s exactly what I’m asking.”

Robert held Gabe’s gaze for a long moment. “When we get things underway . . . if and when I make the decision to invest and we move forward . . . I’ll contact her. But, Gabe . . . understand this. It’s not a quick fix. It will take a year to break ground. Maybe ten before we see the full expression of the idea, and maybe even longer before we see if it’s successful. Are you willing to be in this for the long haul? You may not be mayor by that point, but Jasper Lake is going to need someone to see it through to the end. Are you sure you’re that person?”

Even six months ago, he wasn’t sure how he would have answered that question. Jasper Lake, the mayoral race, had been something to do because he’d lost his way, wasn’t sure where God was leading him next. It seemed his season in Jasper Lake was not to last a year or two but a decade. With or without Kendall.

Slowly Gabe nodded. “If we can make this happen, I’m in it to the end.”

Robert stood and offered his hand. “Then I’ll talk to Astrid and have her get in touch. From what I know about her, she’ll take your idea as a unique challenge . . . and I think it gives her a good chance of winning the grant as well.”

Gabe stood too and shook his dad’s hand. “Thanks for coming in person.” He watched his dad pick up his bag and turn on his heel. Before Robert reached the door, Gabe called, “You know, it’s almost lunch. I don’t suppose you want to grab a bite to eat? The cantina down the street has fantastic barbecue.”

Robert turned, surprised. Then he nodded. “I never turn down barbecue.”

Gabe closed down his computer and grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and his keys from the drawer. Then he grinned and tossed the keys back. “Never mind. It’s walkable.”