DANIEL COULD HARDLY believe only a couple of weeks had passed since his arrival in Willow’s Eve. It seemed more like months, and long hard months at that.
Some of it was coming home to an empty house. He missed Samantha more than he’d thought possible, and seeing her over Skype was a poor substitute for actually being together. Luckily, Joyce had gotten things set up with the computer so he could read to Samantha at bedtime, and he’d made a fast trip down to Southern California one weekend to see her. Unfortunately, they’d had only a few hours together because of his flight schedule, but it had been worth it. And now that his ex-wife’s wedding was over, both Joyce and Samantha were free to come north.
Before going into the office, he sat in his car and phoned Joyce. She and Samantha were leaving the following day for their trip to Willow’s Eve.
“Hello,” she answered.
“It’s me. I was calling to check in and see if you’re still sure about driving up alone. I could get a flight Friday evening and we could come together over the weekend instead.”
“That’s thoughtful, Daniel, but I can handle it. The car has GPS and you made sure it was in good condition before you left. It will be an adventure, and I think it’s high time I had one.”
Daniel smiled.
Asking Joyce if she would come to Willow’s Eve and help take care of Samantha had been awkward. It hardly seemed fair to ask a sixty-five-year-old woman if she would leave her home behind and share child-rearing responsibilities with him. If he’d been staying in Southern California, it wouldn’t have been necessary. There’d been several trusted people and facilities he could have employed, but Willow’s Eve was an unknown quantity and he didn’t want to leave his daughter in a stranger’s hands.
Besides, he’d grown close to Joyce through the years, far closer than to his own bitter mother. Joyce’s warm, cheerful humor was the kind of thing he wanted Samantha to experience when she came home from school.
“I know you’ll call if you need anything,” he said.
“And even if we don’t, we’ll call to share the fun. We’re going to take it slow. You drove a good part of it at night, so you didn’t see the sights.”
“There isn’t much to see in California’s Central Valley.”
“Daniel, you know better than that,” Joyce scolded gently. “There are fields and orchards, sunflowers and small towns. And when you get up north, there’s Mount Shasta. I haven’t seen it since I was a girl, except from a plane. I’m going to stay inland until we see it, then head for the coast.”
Daniel chuckled. “Taking the mountain highways farther north will probably mean a longer drive, but have a good trip.”
“We will. Take care, son.”
With a grimace he swung out of the Jeep and strode toward the double doors of City Hall. It hadn’t been a good day yesterday and he didn’t expect a better one today.
Fortunately, no one was in sight so he was able to close his office door and focus on the task at hand.
The water issue was consuming almost everything. On his desk and in his computer, he had dozens of reports, including one from a decade earlier. Water had come up then, too, and a study had been done on the feasibility of building another reservoir. There was a good site, but the cost had seemed prohibitive. Now the current reservoir was even more clogged with silt and often ran low. Between that, and Joe Jensen’s desire to expand his business, they could no longer ignore the issue.
Thursday could be dramatic with another council meeting, this time wholly dedicated to the subject of water. Daniel’s goal in management had been to find win-win solutions to problems. It wasn’t going to be easy this time. But a community couldn’t be completely healthy if there were winners crowing or losers grumbling, especially in a community the size of Willow’s Eve. Despite his inexperience with small towns, it didn’t take much imagination to know the winners and losers would know each other awfully well.
Three raps sounded on his door. It had to be Mandy. No one else had that energetic knock, and he automatically tensed. They’d had a nice dinner on Saturday, but he’d buried himself in work and unpacking ever since. It wasn’t that he disliked Mandy, but he had resolved to keep some distance between her and his daughter, and the best way to do that was to keep a distance himself.
“Come in,” he called.
“Hi,” she said. “I wanted to tell you some of the seniors are coming to the meeting tomorrow night.”
He nodded, hardly surprised. The shock would be if they didn’t come. It wasn’t that this was a more emotionally charged issue than other problems he’d dealt with in the past, but it seemed intensely personal in Willow’s Eve—a prime example being the Russell couple. Susan Russell felt the community needed more water, while her husband was bitterly opposed. They both had influence in the community, and it upped the stakes dramatically.
“I expect a good turnout of interested citizens across-the-board,” he told her. “Nothing is being done under the table.”
“Sure, but the seniors are dreadfully worried, and they aren’t hearing anything from you directly.”
“I had to ask members of the city council to handle the public inquiries so I could get something done.”
“They want to talk to you. I know you aren’t the one who brought up the water issue, but Howard waited until you were here to introduce it to the city council. Intentional or not, he sent a message that you’re the expert.”
“I’m an administrator, not a civil engineer or trained ecologist. And I can’t spend all my time dispelling rumors.”
Mandy crossed her arms. “Margaret says you avoided her the other evening.”
“I didn’t avoid her. I was taking my evening run at the park, so I waved and kept going. My responsibilities are important to me, but I get time off, the same as anyone else.”
“Okay. But can’t you take an hour of work time to explain what’s going on? You could come to lunch and do a quick summary afterward.”
“The seniors can get all the information I’m able to share from the council’s meeting minutes.”
Mandy’s eyes widened. “‘Able to share?’ Ohmigod, there are secrets.”
“No,” Daniel said hastily. “But if I make announcements in a setting such as the luncheon, it may appear as if decisions have been made. All I have is information.”
“They’re smarter than that.”
“The public may be smart, but...” He cleared his throat. “Not everyone acts smart,” he said carefully.
“That’s a crummy thing to say,” Mandy said, her mouth tightening.
“It’s true, and if you weren’t biased, you’d admit it. Emotions make people do crazy things.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being biased. It means you fight for things you care about.”
“That’s what I’m trying to avoid, a fight.”
“Except you’re only getting people more stirred up by not talking about what’s happening.”
Daniel pressed a finger to his aching temple. “Look, there’s an appropriate, professional way of doing things. A city is similar to a business and needs to be run objectively.”
“Are you completely heartless?” she demanded, stomping forward a few steps. “We’re not discussing selling roofing nails or lingerie. We’re talking about people’s lives and their retirement savings, maybe the difference between a small sense of security and the fear they could lose their homes. The people at the center are really stressed out and I don’t want it to affect their health.” She stopped, breathing quickly. “You might be a professional, but that doesn’t mean you have to be a robot.”
Mandy’s rapid, angry breathing drew Daniel’s unwilling attention to her bustline, and he groaned silently. If only he was a robot, instead of completely and utterly human—a fully functional male human, whose brains were in his pants at the moment. He rubbed his eyes, shutting out the sight of her taut breasts beneath her T-shirt, but it didn’t help. He couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to peel that fabric up and discover what sort of bra she wore...and how she looked without any barriers.
“Don’t ignore me,” Mandy said.
Gathering his composure with an effort, he opened his eyes and schooled his features into a bland mask. “I apologize,” he said politely. “That was rude. Please tell the seniors that I’m sorry, but they should attend the city council meetings to learn more and ask questions. I truly sympathize with their concerns, but there are enough rumors flying already.”
“Then why not come to lunch and separate rumor from fact? Communication is part of a ‘properly’ run business, and some of them can’t attend the city council meetings because they’re at night.”
He couldn’t deny Mandy had a valid point, yet he had a curious notion that more was going on than Mandy’s concern for the seniors or how he was handling the situation.
“I’ll think about it and get back to you,” he told her.
She wheeled and left, only to open the door again a second later. “By the way, tomorrow is another meat loaf day,” she announced. He wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be a goad, or a last-ditch appeal.
When he was alone again, Daniel tossed his pen down so hard it skidded off the desk. Life would be much easier if the Senior Center had been under the city manager’s office. Mandy was right about him. He liked rules, and one of his personal rules was not getting involved with a woman under his supervisory umbrella. Granted, his resolve had never been tested—for most of his career he’d been a married man. And despite his questions about marriage as an institution, he believed in fidelity.
Now he was single and Mandy was still off-limits, and it wasn’t just because neither one of them was currently interested in a relationship. She was volatile. Emotional. He’d grown up in an emotional war zone and had no intention of venturing back into shark-infested waters. Hell, Mandy made his ex-wife look catatonic by comparison.
What’s more, she preferred temporary jobs and didn’t stay anywhere for longer than a few months—a will-o’-the-wisp, who fluttered from place to place on a whim. There was no way to know when Mandy would decide she was bored with Willow’s Eve—and the next thing the seniors would see was the back of her Volkswagen as she drove away.
Unfortunately, his body didn’t care how many excellent reasons he had to ignore Mandy’s attractions. But he was in charge of his life, and that included being in charge of his body.
* * *
MANDY DOODLED A strange figure on her notepad. It looked like something between a monster and a pleading puppy. Symbolic? And if it was, what did it symbolize?
What had Daniel meant by saying he’d “think” about it and get back to her? Maybe he was considering coming to the senior lunch after all. She wasn’t holding her breath. He was determined to behave according to his idea of a professional city manager, but being professional didn’t have to mean not caring about people, and if it did, then the hell with it.
Sighing, she checked with the volunteer cook in the kitchen, then returned to her office to review the student list for the upcoming safe-driving class. The seniors had been somewhat offended by her plan for the class...until they learned their insurance rates could go down for successfully completing the course. The sign-ups had come fast and furious after that.
Edgy, Mandy double-checked the list. Trouble was brewing in town, the kind that could make it uncomfortable to stay in Willow’s Eve. She thought about her cozy house and the friends she’d made...and hated the thought of leaving. She wasn’t ready yet.
Maybe it was simply Daniel putting her on edge. She’d had the oddest feeling he’d gotten aroused during their argument. There was something about the way his eyes opened, and he’d certainly glanced at her chest, though he could simply have been disapproving of her T-shirt, sporting a saucy print of Sylvester the Cat. Still, if it had been any other guy...oh, that was silly.
Anyway, she didn’t even want him to be interested in her, something she’d made perfectly clear.
Daniel was a starched bureaucrat who didn’t care about people like seniors, struggling to meet the rising costs of medicine and find doctors willing to take Medicare. And there were other people in town who couldn’t handle a big assessment, as well. Not that there’d necessarily be an assessment big enough to cause a problem. If the town got a federal grant or if they decided on a more economical solution...if...if...if.
Mandy pressed a finger to her right temple; she must stop overreacting. Daniel might be acting like a starched bureaucrat, but it didn’t make him one. It was just hard for her to understand people who kept their emotions hidden. How did you know where they were coming from, or what they cared about?
Besides, she was worried about Susan and Chris.
Were the rumors true about Chris moving out? Susan had said they were arguing over the water and sewer proposals, plus Chris was a fanatic about the environment. Was he fanatic enough to end his marriage because of a differing point of view?
Hell, the past few weeks it seemed the whole town had been gearing up for war. Did they ever wonder how much water mattered if everyone hated each other?
* * *
DANIEL THOUGHT LONG and hard about Mandy’s request, then hit the speed dial on his phone for the mayor’s office.
“Howard White speaking,” the mayor answered.
“Hello...Howard,” Daniel said, still uncomfortable with the informality. “It’s Daniel Whittier. Look, I’ve been invited to do an informal chat with folks at the Senior Center tomorrow to provide information on the water and sewer issue.”
“Oh. Uh, the council meets later in the evening. Can’t they wait until then?”
“I understand some of them aren’t able to attend. In any case, all these rumors are a big part of the problem. Mandy Colson was hoping I could clear them up.”
Silence. Then the mayor sighed.
“Well, it may be the best option. I mean...my mother is being bombarded with questions and she doesn’t know what to say.”
“I’m sure.” From what he’d seen, Daniel didn’t doubt the mayor had talked about the water issue with his family, leaving his mother with the dilemma of knowing what he thought, and being unable to say anything.
“It’s a plan, then,” Howard said, sounding relieved.
“Would you like to attend, as well?”
“No, I...think not.”
“Fine. I’ll let you know if anything significant comes up.”
Howard said goodbye and Daniel dropped the phone back in its cradle. It was a good thing both meetings weren’t until tomorrow. That would give him time to sort out his thoughts and prepare bullet points for the senior lunch. He could also bring extra copies of the public reports the council was looking at, and that might help dispel suspicions that things weren’t operating in the open.
The trickiest part would be talking with Mandy about it; she seemed more volatile than usual right now. He decided to send a brief email instead. It would be faster and he could keep working without another confrontation. Opening the program, he quickly typed a few short sentences and then settled back with the preliminary watershed report that he’d requested from the forestry station.
Much later, there were three sharp knocks on his door, and Daniel glanced at the clock as Mandy came inside, the lingering scents of the senior lunch blowing in, as well. His stomach grumbled.
“I got your email,” she announced. “I’ll have to set up a phone tree to get the word out. Because of the lunch rush I couldn’t check my emails earlier, so I couldn’t announce it when everyone was here to eat.” Her tone was faintly accusatory.
Daniel winced. “I’m sorry. I should have spoken with you directly.”
Her nose wrinkled, then she seemed to forgive him. “Okay. What did you mean when you said I should be careful about how it was announced?”
“Just that the meeting will be informational only.”
She pushed a wisp of hair away from her face and Daniel wondered if the pale blond strands were as soft as they appeared. “You act as if they’re children,” she said, exasperated.
“I respect them, but in my experience—”
“I know, your ‘experience’ tells you the public often acts like children,” she said in a mock pompous tone.
Tension throbbed in his temples. “No, I was going to say that from what I’ve seen, many people hear only what they want to hear. They’ll also have to accept that while it isn’t secret, any new information has to be shared at the city council meeting first.”
“Okay, I get it. Lunch is at noon, so let’s figure on you starting at twelve forty-five. I’ll ask them not to pester you during the meal.”
“Thanks.”
She turned to leave, treating him to the view of her shapely behind, clad in tight jeans, with a dusting of flour on her right hip.
“Uh...Mandy,” Daniel called, and she faced him again.
“Yes?”
“You aren’t just upset on the seniors’ behalf, are you? There’s more to it.” The question surprised him; her feelings were none of his business.
Mandy hesitated for a long moment. “I suppose. There’s a bunch of stuff on my mind right now.”
“Anything I can do to help?” Daniel asked, surprising himself even more.
“Thanks, but no. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Uh, yeah,” he said, but the door had already closed behind her.
* * *
BY THE TIME the City Council meeting started Thursday evening, Mandy’s neck ached with tension. She wanted to yell at Daniel to stop talking about water as if it was an emotionless issue. It was odd that he sounded so cut-and-dry, particularly after he’d shown an unusual sensitivity the prior afternoon, recognizing that she was out of sorts.
Of course, the Russells were contributing to her tension, as well. The morning had started badly, with Susan confirming that Chris was camping out at the forestry station following a terrific fight Sunday afternoon.
As for the city council meeting, there was nothing new to be learned. Daniel’s information was more extensive than he’d presented after the senior lunch, but mostly more of the same. The real eye-opener was how Chris and Susan kept snapping at each other. In public. It wasn’t simply a debate between two people on opposite sides of an issue. There was serious heat behind their barbs.
Mandy hated seeing it, and even Daniel seemed particularly uptight while husband and wife squared off. But that was silly; why would he care?
Joe Jensen, on the other hand, watched with lively interest, and didn’t seem the least unhappy about the situation. Other attendees had varying reactions—everything from morbid curiosity to inadequate attempts to pretend they didn’t notice.
Mandy smiled tentatively at Chris when he was leaving the room. He gave her a strained smile in return before disappearing. It reminded her of the old lament—when a couple got divorced, who got custody of their friends? But she didn’t want to choose; she cared about them both.
Near the other door, Susan was clearly arguing with her father, before storming out.
Since Mandy had brought two loads of seniors, one group had to wait while she brought the others home. But when she returned to City Hall, there wasn’t anyone in sight. Seeing a light under Daniel’s door, she walked down the corridor and poked her head into his office.
“Hi. Do you know where everyone is?”
He glanced up from something he was working on at his desk. “Lou Ella Parsons asked me to tell you that some of the council members offered them rides, and to thank you. I don’t know everyone who offered, but Howard White took two of them home.”
“That’s one thing you can appreciate about Howard—he might dither over taking a public stand or making a decision, but he’s a nice guy at heart.”
“Yes, of course.” Daniel’s face was masklike. “I saw the van you were driving. It must feel huge after your VW Bug.”
Recognizing a deliberate attempt to switch subjects—probably to avoid discussing the mayor—Mandy shrugged. “Jane’s son loaned it to me so I could take more passengers at a time. I’ve driven a tour bus at couple of my jobs, so it wasn’t too bad.”
She sagged against the doorjamb, suddenly drained. Watching Susan and Chris fight had made her feel as though she were drowning in quicksand. They were in pain and she couldn’t help them. Until now, Willow’s Eve had seemed such a safe and normal place, with people who loved each other and where happily ever after had actually seemed possible.
“You look tired,” Daniel said.
She grimaced. “I hate politics and I especially hate it when my friends argue. And it was such a peachy evening otherwise. Reminded me of the Titanic going down, or maybe the Hindenburg. Then there’s the Johnstown Flood or the mass extinction of the passenger pigeon.”
He opened his mouth, then appeared to hesitate before speaking. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“I shouldn’t.”
“Hey, it’s decaf.”
Coffee suddenly sounded terrific. “Sure.” She took the cup he handed her and sank into the chair across from his desk. “Please don’t tell me all the meetings on the water issue will be like this.”
“No promises.”
“Terrific. But if I can make one suggestion, you might get further if you acknowledge everyone’s feelings. Just an ‘I understand you’re upset’ or ‘I get that you’re worried’ might help them feel the city is listening. You don’t have to take sides.”
“I’ll think about it.”
As Daniel continued making notes, Mandy sipped her coffee and tried not to notice the firm line of his jaw.
“How did you end up doing this kind of work?” she asked. “It isn’t as if kids grow up dreaming of managing a town. They picture becoming a cowboy. Or a movie star. Or even a pilot or fireman, but not...civic business.” She’d almost said “pushing papers for a city,” but had decided it wasn’t a diplomatic way to describe his career.
Daniel put his pen in its holder and looked at her. “Actually, I did imagine this. My uncle was a city manager. He didn’t have any children, so he periodically brought me to the office. I admired the way he could take chaos and turn it into order.”
“You were a weird kid.”
“Maybe.”
Mandy had a hunch there was more to the story than what Daniel had explained, and that he didn’t intend to tell it to her. Still, she felt sorry for anyone who hadn’t enjoyed fantastic dreams as a child.
“What did you want to be when you were growing up?” he asked.
“Captain of a starship, especially if it was called the U.S.S. Enterprise.”
His expression lightened and he gave a quizzical smile. Her breath caught. He was exceptionally good-looking when he wasn’t imitating a sourpuss.
“So, you were a Star Trek fan?” he asked.
“A true Trekkie. I still am, though I don’t speak Klingon or go to sci-fi conventions.” That often, Mandy added silently. She had enjoyed conventions in the past, but hadn’t seen one advertised in recent years.
“A shame you couldn’t realize your ambition.”
“I’ve gone out to explore strange new worlds, and to seek out new life and new civilizations. Well, they were strange and new to me.” She drained her cup. “Thanks for the coffee. Now I feel ready to tackle the road again. Will you be working long?”
“Half an hour or so.”
“See ya.”
“Good night.”
Mandy walked to her car thinking of what Daniel had said about his childhood ambitions. It was nice that he’d admired his uncle enough to follow in his footsteps. But she still wondered if there was more to the story.