32

Nate campaigned out on the road for nearly three weeks straight before he could finally return to Austin, where he’d be the guest of honor at a large Fourth of July barbeque sponsored by the Friends of Texas.

Hundreds attended the annual event held in Zilker Park, and this year would be no different.

Red, white, and blue bunting decorated a massive dais with the Colorado River as a backdrop. Media trucks lined Lou Neff Road, tucked behind rows of bright blue porta-potties.

On the opposite end, closer to the entrance, two eighteen-wheelers emblazoned with orange flames and decorated with longhorns stood nearly thirty feet tall. On board the trailers were open kitchens, each equipped with ten grills and a custom wood-fueled smoker large enough to cook two whole hogs and three hundred whole chickens. Enough to feed a hungry crowd.

Nate and his campaign staff hoped those attending would be just as hungry for what he had to say about budgets, the economy, and immigration issues.

Despite promising otherwise, Nate couldn’t help himself. He scanned the crowds for a sign of a young woman with soft blonde hair and hope-filled eyes. A hope that had been phony, as it turned out.

He still could barely believe what he’d learned. Reluctantly he’d brought the news Tiffany had shared to his campaign manager. Janesa shared his concern and followed up.

Yes, Leta Breckenridge worked for the Ladd Agency.

She may have been a down-on-her-luck gal who needed help, but from all appearances, she’d been playing him like a chessboard, carefully maneuvering their encounters to gain access to private information, which she could then report back to some guy named Bernard Geisler to later use against him.

Leta had cashed in on her connection with him, and that betrayal changed everything.

Rarely did he misjudge someone’s character. Certainly, this was an exception.

Janesa reported she’d recently resigned. Perhaps she’d changed her mind.

It didn’t matter. He had no business talking with Leta Breckenridge ever again. He only wished someone would clue in his heart.

The notion he could’ve fallen so easily for her was still a surprise. For several nights, he’d lain in bed and rehearsed the night they’d met, how vulnerable and upset she’d been after running into his car. She had no way of paying for the damage, and the haunted look on her face had drawn him in, causing him to want to erase her despair.

Could all that have been a ruse as well?

When they’d become friendly in the months following, he’d felt a profound connection to this girl. They had much in common, despite the fact their lives were so different. No one seemed to understand his heart more than she.

Nate shook his head.

That was what made him the most angry and hurt. He’d opened up and shared something of himself he’d not allowed many to see, especially no woman. Well, no one, really.

The very thought shook him to the core and nicked at his confidence. If Leta Breckenridge could dupe him, he was gullible to every person he met. Who could he even trust?

It often seemed everyone had disguised motives. Even his mother.

Yes, she loved him. He knew that. But a part of her was manipulating him, moving him to perform like a circus monkey. She lusted for power, the kind that came from high political places.

Her first husband, his father, had failed to come through for her before his life came to a tragic end. Now she’d shifted her expectations onto her only son.

Without meaning to, Tiffany had also created a lot of pressure, even promising to line up wealthy oil clients to endorse him as an enticement to get him to run.

While Tiff’s recommendations were well researched and her efforts would’ve no doubt benefitted him politically, she’d never really understood the real him, even after nearly two years of dating.

He needed to shake all this off and focus on his campaign. A campaign that was not about winning to gain prestige. If elected governor, he wanted to use the position to make life better for his constituents.

That was the only reason he’d put himself through all this.

While it seemed those closest to him failed to get his message, in a few minutes he’d climb the steps of the dais and position himself in front of the microphone, hoping to convey that very sentiment to a growing crowd of strangers who would soon cast their ballots.

With any luck at all, he’d win their votes.

Leta picked her way through throngs of people gathered in Zilker Park, hoping to catch a glimpse of Nate before he took the dais. She’d phoned and texted him, even left messages to call her—and nothing.

She worried he’d learned she hadn’t been truthful with him about her involvement with the Ladd Agency, and that thought killed her inside.

A million times she’d tried to convince herself to just move on. Perhaps it was far better to part with a misunderstanding still between them than to try to insert herself into a world where she would never quite belong anyway.

The people in Nate’s world were highly educated movers and shakers, and she was an ordinary girl who had never even finished college. For a short time she’d considered herself astute, but she wasn’t. Not really. She’d even been gullible enough to believe Jane Ladd thought she was skilled, when the woman only wanted to use her to get information on Nathan.

Less than a year ago, she’d never given politics a minute of thought. Elected officials were simply voices on television.

Her encounters with Nathan had been brief, yet they’d changed the way she thought about her responsibility to get involved in the system that determined so much about her daily life.

More, he’d changed her ability to hope that someday she might even fall in love.

True, there was no way to know for sure whether or not Nate was upset with her. But it was entirely out of character for him not to respond to her attempts to contact him.

Her stomach tightened when she considered Nate might believe she’d broken his trust. She needed to find him and explain. Make sure he understood the full story—that she’d never shared anything that might hurt him or his campaign. She’d never cross that line. He meant too much to her.

Once she had a chance to clarify what had really happened, he’d understand and they could pick up where they left off.

At least she prayed that was possible.

The day had really warmed up, with temperatures expected to be in the high nineties. Typical of an Austin day in July, but the heat didn’t seem to be a deterrent for the people crowding into Zilker Park, proving the old adage, “If there’s free food, they will come.”

A slight breeze carried the intoxicating bouquet of spices, smoke, and roasting meat. The smell made her hungry.

She was also dying of thirst, so she made her way to one of many tents where teams of men and women were serving complimentary lemonade and sweet tea. She got in line behind a young couple. The woman pushed a stroller with a toddler inside, a cute little blond boy who grinned when Leta winked at him.

As the line inched forward, the man placed his broad hand on the small of his wife’s back. The intimate gesture made Leta feel lonely inside.

She wanted a family someday with a man who adored her.

With iced lemonade in hand, she made her way toward the dais, appreciating the talent of the band playing on a raised stage to the right. She knew from the promo spots on television that the band was called Late Eternity and had been featured at the Austin City Limits Music Festival last fall.

Two little girls in patriotic-themed sundresses and sandals ran in front of her, blowing soap bubbles. A harried-looking mother chased after them, not far behind.

Leta smiled and waited for them to pass.

Then she saw him.

Nate was standing about ten feet from the dais, shaking hands with a small crowd. An eager young dad thrust his chubby-cheeked baby into Nate’s arms, which made him laugh. He smiled as the father clicked photos with his iPhone. After handing back the little one, he placed his hand on the guy’s shoulder. She couldn’t make out what he was saying, but from the look on the guy’s face, Nate was definitely connecting.

To his right stood a very attractive young black woman, his campaign manager, Janesa Morgan. Leta had met her at Nate’s birthday party. She held a clipboard and was extricating Nate from the small group he was talking with. With a determined smile, she led him toward the steps to the dais and they huddled, apparently getting ready for his big speech.

It appeared Leta had missed any opportunity to catch up with him until after he finished his address, so she found one of the few open spots on the grass and sat with her legs crossed, anxious to hear what Nathan had to say.

Minutes later, a man took the podium and introduced himself as the director of Friends of Texas. “Good afternoon, everyone! Thank you for coming out for our little party.”

A roar of applause swept through the crowd.

While he continued talking, Leta watched intently as Nathan pulled at his cuffs. He smiled and nodded to a staffer, patted a security guard on the back.

“And now, without further ado . . . let’s bring up the man of the hour, the one who, with all our help, will be the next Texas state governor!”

Nate climbed the steps up to the dais, waving to the crowd. He wore light-colored khakis, loafers, and a white button-down open at the collar. He smiled widely out at the crowd, then held up his open palm, quieting another round of applause. He stepped to the mic. “Hello, Austin, Texas!”

In what was likely a carefully calculated interruption, the band started playing a rendition of “Deep in the Heart of Texas.” People clambered to their feet and clap-clap-clapped in unison.

Leta couldn’t help but get swept up in the passion. For the first time, she considered that Nathan really could be the next governor of Texas.

“Thank you, boys,” Nate said to the band members when the music finally wound down. “I am a huge fan and appreciate y’all being here with us today.” Then to his crowd of supporters, “And thanks to all of you for showing up and joining us for this little barbeque!”

Over the next twenty minutes, Nate shared his vision. He was a gifted orator and conveyed his ideas with a sense of passion and purpose that definitely had this crowd fired up.

“This is not about a simple stopover on the way to the White House. My campaign is about serving the people of Texas. And so, with all of your help, we’ll get this done. We’ll change the landscape of what is ahead for our great state. Together, we’ll make a difference! God bless y’all and God bless Texas!”

The crowd immediately went to their feet, and applause roared across the park. Behind the dais, red, white, and blue balloons were released, and seconds later fighter jets roared overhead with red and blue plumes of smoke trailing behind.

Leta watched as Nate posed for photos with various supporters and constituents. She hung back and glanced around at the crowd of people who were now making their way to the barbeque trucks and lemonade pavilions. People from every walk of life—families, seniors, and teens—all prepared to rally behind a candidate they now believed in.

While the media stormed forward, hoping to get an exclusive with Senator Emerson, Leta picked her way through the remaining people standing between her and the man who up until recently had been her friend.

She needed to talk to him. If she could only get a couple of minutes alone with Nate, she could explain.

The anchor from a Dallas news station held out a microphone. “Senator Emerson, over here. Sir, could you tell us the key way voters can differentiate you from your opponent, Governor Holiday? I mean, you both say you want more border security, and each of you is highlighting the need for better health options. You want better funding for neurological compromised patients, an issue dear to your heart. Holiday has his pet issues as well, like capping punitive damages in high-stakes litigation cases and subsidies for highway improvement. Why are all these people gathered here today going to be better off if Nathan Emerson becomes their next governor?”

Nate drew a breath, ready to answer. That’s when he saw her.

Leta stood only a few feet away, looking at him like he had the ability to make the sun come up in the morning.

He forced himself to focus back on the news anchor and cleared his throat. “Dwight D. Eisenhower may have said it best when he claimed the supreme quality for a leader is unquestionable integrity. He asserted that people with good intentions make promises, but people with integrity keep them.” He let his gaze slip back to his former friend, sadness building in his heart as he struggled to reconcile the girl he’d been so drawn to and her betrayal. “Integrity is everything. I can’t speak for Governor Holiday, but I can promise Texans that I am not one man on that stage and another in private. You can count on me always being a man of my word.”

She was still watching him, and for a second he let his gaze meet hers. A hopeful smile nipped at the corners of her lips.

He had a decision to make.

As much as it hurt, he took a deep breath, knowing he had to be sensible. Despite the trust he’d placed in her, she hadn’t been honest. So he did what he had to do.

He turned away.