Chapter Five

Hunter stared at the twinkle in her eyes, delighted to get a glimpse of a more playful Callie. He took her preparedness as a challenge, not that he’d tell her that. She exuded a different kind of confidence than he remembered, and he could no longer rely on what he thought he knew about her. He was impressed. Intrigued. Six months in Africa, he guessed, hadn’t necessarily changed her so much as it emboldened her. “By the way, why can’t you stay at your house? Not that I’m not grateful you’re here.”

“It’s under construction.” She went on to tell him about the state of the house and her parents and sister being out of town.

“Didn’t they forget about you the time you and Nova got back from college orientation?”

“Good memory.” Her tone, a mix between being impressed and sad, was one he’d never personally heard from her before. He knew from Nova and his mom that she often had a tenuous relationship with her mom and dad. Their two divorces had something to do with it, as well as Callie feeling abandoned when they constantly jetted off without her.

This was the longest conversation they’d ever had, and his pulse sped up at the thought of finally getting to know each other better. Or his rapid heart rate had to do with the antivenin. He couldn’t be sure of anything this morning.

“I’m not just a handsome face,” he teased.

“You’re not?”

“So, you think I’m handsome?” She’d walked right into that one.

“I think you think that.” She stood. “How about some breakfast? You hungry? We need to keep your strength up.”

“You think I’m strong,” he stated with zero modesty.

“Oh my God. I think you’re annoying.” She walked out of the bedroom and out of eyesight. The bunkhouse wasn’t big, though, so he easily heard her continue to talk. “How about eggs and toast?”

“Sounds good, thanks.”

He listened to her work in his kitchen with a smile on his face. Funny how certain events set in motion other events that only last week seemed impossible. Hands behind his head, he marveled at how a poisonous spider bite had turned into one of the best mornings he’d had in a long time. And this new situation with Callie was just getting started. He gave a silent one-arm cheer.

“You only had one egg left and your bread was moldy,” she said, coming around the sliding barn door and almost catching him in celebration. He quickly tucked his elbow into his side. “But you did have Pop-Tarts.” She handed him a plate with the frosted brown sugar cinnamon pastry on top. He could tell by the delicious scent that she’d warmed it up.

No one else he knew liked to eat them warm. Was it luck or coincidence that she must, too? “Thanks.”

His phone rang before she stepped away, and she looked down at the screen at the same time he said, “Whoever it is, they can wait.”

She frowned. “It’s the mayor.”

“Oh, in that case.” He hurriedly grabbed the phone and brought it to his ear. “Hiya, Mayor.”

“Hello, Hunter. How are you feeling? I heard what happened.”

“I’m okay.” He made eye contact with Callie, her frown deepening but doing little to detract from her beauty. “Thanks for checking on me. Do you call everyone who’s been bitten by a deadly spider, or am I special?”

She chuckled. “Considering I’ve known you since you were in diapers, let’s go with the latter.”

“Thought so,” he said smugly.

Callie sat down on the bed beside him and took a bite of her Pop-Tart, seemingly very interested in his conversation. No sense in her straining herself when he was happy to put the call on speaker.

“I’m putting you on speaker. Callie Carmichael is here with me.”

“I heard that, too,” the mayor said. “Hello, Callie.”

“Hi, Mayor Garnett.” She sat taller like the mayor could see her, and he held back a chuckle. Then a groan because the move made her chest more pronounced.

“This phone call is actually two-fold,” the mayor said. “I’m happy to hear you’re feeling better, Hunter, but I’m also calling with an update on the ambassador position.”

Hunter put his breakfast food down mid-bite. An update did not sound like a lead up to “Congratulations, you’re Windsong’s first ambassador, Hunter.”

“Should I call you back on my phone, Mayor?” Callie asked.

Why would she do that?

“No, this is much better. I can speak to both of you at the same time.”

Speak to both of them? Had Callie applied for the ambassador position? Her teeth sank into her bottom lip and her gaze darted to the floor.

“I had an overwhelming number of people apply to be ambassador. So many, in fact, that it’s made choosing one person to represent Windsong on the Must-See Small Towns platform much more difficult. The good news, however, is that I’d like to congratulate you both on being finalists for the position.” There was his unwelcome answer. They were in competition. Friendly competition. He didn’t like the thought of beating her.

“Thank you,” they said in unison.

“There are four other finalists vying for the position, and to make this as diplomatic as possible, my staff and I have come up with a list of activities that showcase the town and its history. We’re asking each of you to participate in a bi-weekly event. For the next eight weeks, you’ll write a one-pager about your experience, striving to wow us by sharing why our town is unique and interesting.”

“So four different activities and four different summaries?” Hunter confirmed. This gig had to be his, and he’d outdo anyone who got in his way.

“Correct.”

“What are the activities?” Callie asked.

“In order to keep things as fair as possible, we’ll be randomly selecting activities for each finalist and emailing them the specifics on Saturday mornings, then you’ll have two weeks to turn in your piece. The winner will be announced at a special dinner party in December.”

“Can there be more than one winner?” Callie glanced at him from under long lashes. “I don’t recall the details.”

“Unfortunately, no. The purpose of the platform is to draw attention to the best small towns and encourage tourists to visit. The platform has always endorsed keeping things equitable regardless of population, so for now each town is only allowed one ambassador.

“Both of your applications were wonderful, by the way.”

Hunter grumbled under his breath. Not wonderful enough, apparently.

“Any other questions? An email will go out tomorrow with all the finalists’ names and the rules for the competition. On Saturday morning, you’ll receive your first activity.”

“No questions at this time,” Callie said.

“Hunter?” The mayor rustled some papers on her end, the sound loud and clear over the phone.

“All good,” he told her.

“Congratulations again, and may the best Windsonger win.” With that, the mayor disconnected, leaving the bunk house too quiet and too still.

“Looks like we’re in competition for the next couple of months.” Hunter took a bite of his Pop-Tart. What this meant for their budding friendship, he didn’t know. His gut, though, twisted in worry.

“I guess we are.” She got to her feet, the bed immediately colder. “Good luck. You’re going to need it.”

He cocked an eyebrow.

“What?” she said.

“I like this cheeky side of you. However…” He’d take that sassy tone and kindly show her. He needed this more than anyone else did. Being ambassador meant he’d be taken more seriously. He would be held responsible for showing off his hometown and bringing in more tourists. And he’d be known for something besides Windsong’s most eligible bachelor.

“I can’t speak for everyone else,” he said, “but there is no way you’re beating me.”