A shrill electronic beep let Evan know that someone had entered his store. He’d hooked up the sensor after one too many customers sneaked up on him while he was working. Evan maneuvered his protective glasses to the top of his head and clapped his hands twice to clear away any remaining sawdust.
The store was divided into two sections: one was for finished items, and the other side was set up as a workshop. There was no point in him sitting at a counter all day when he could be building.
Goose Harbor Furniture, the shop he owned, was on a small path just off the square. He shared the building with his soon-to-be sister-in-law’s business. Needless to say, now that Brice had a very pretty reason to come into town, Evan saw his brother more than usual. So he wasn’t too surprised when Brice barreled in.
Evan unhooked his heavy tool belt and laid it on the counter. “If you’re coming to remind me about your rehearsal dinner again, I know. Thursday—tomorrow night. Agostini’s.” He tapped his forehead. “I remember.” He left the work space to join his brother in the showroom area of the shop.
Brice was pacing back and forth in front of a dining set. Prewedding nerves?
“I’ll be at the wedding on Friday night, too.” Evan stretched, his spine letting out a series of pops. “Even though I have a 5k to run the next morning.”
Sign-ups were going well for the Valentine’s Day Shuffle that Evan and Claire had spent the last week and a half planning. The whole process had been easier than he’d anticipated. A few meetings with board members and the police department had gotten the running course approved, while Mr. Banks’s latest email blast, a post on the town website and an article in the paper served as marketing. People had flocked to town hall during business hours to register for the run, the bake sale and the eating contest. The ladies at church had swooped in and plucked the details of the bake sale right out of their hands. And Claire and Evan had gladly relinquished planning it. Part of leadership was knowing when to delegate, after all.
Brice stopped pacing, tugged off his baseball hat and crushed it in his hands. “Do you have internet connection in here?”
He jutted his thumb toward the wall he shared with Kendall. “I steal it from your fiancée.”
“Evan...” Brice growled.
“What? Her password was way too easy.” It rhymed with trice and had their wedding date. Not exactly rocket science. “We’re going to be family. Think of me as the crazy uncle who borrows a piece of silverware every time you host a party until you have none left.”
Brice worked his jaw back and forth. “We have an uncle like that.”
“Uncle Ernie.” Evan bobbed his head. “Weird guy. I’m still not a hundred percent sure if he’s related to us by blood or if he’s just one of Dad’s old gambling buddies.”
Brice tilted his head. “Whatever happened to him?”
Evan thought for a moment and then snapped his fingers. “Didn’t he marry a retired shot-putter? She came with him once. Her biceps were bigger than my head. It was amazing.” Evan held up his hands to demonstrate the size. “She was from some country that started with an A. Algeria? I think that’s probably wrong.”
“Living the life,” Brice deadpanned.
“With our silverware.”
Ah. There. Finally. He’d wheedled a grin out of his brother.
It faded just as quickly.
Brice produced a crumpled piece of paper from his wallet and laid it on the counter. He pointed to a long internet address written in his uneven script. “Pull up this website.”
Evan typed it into his laptop and a popular blog site loaded. The page displayed a header showing Lake Michigan with some boats on it. Clearly a shot taken from their pier.
Evan read the title. Goose Tales. “Since when do you read gossip blogs?”
“You’ve heard of Goose Tales?”
The blog had been steadily updated for the past two years. Whoever ran it would post about someone who was selling subpar fruit at the farmers’ market or announce the closing of a business before the news was official. Evan had a hard time taking an anonymous writer seriously, no matter how salacious their stories became.
“Everyone in Goose Harbor who doesn’t live under a rock knows about it. Rumors, Brice. That’s all this blog is. Someone with too much time on their hands who makes a bigger deal about issues or straight-up invents them.” He wouldn’t be surprised if the author was Mr. Banks or someone along those lines.
Evan scanned the latest story and spotted photos of him and Claire together at the snow sculpture contest. A couple were fairly good shots. He might save them to his computer.
“For the last week they’ve been detailing you and Claire.” Brice delivered the statement as if it was groundbreaking information. Kendall had done wonders to lighten his brother’s overall attitude, but a lot of Brice’s characteristic grumpy-bear personality would always be there. That was a good thing though because Evan liked his brother that way.
“We’re running for office. That seems like a given.”
Brice elbowed him out of the way so he could squint at the screen. “Supposedly they have proof that the two of you are in cahoots over the election.”
“Which you know isn’t true. Side note.” Evan held up a hand to pause the conversation. “Who uses the word cahoots?”
Brice scrolled to older posts, which displayed screenshots of some of the photos Jason had captured of them for use on the town’s webpage. “A lot of these pictures make it look like what’s written here is true. You two look like a couple.”
“How about next time I see Claire, I’ll scowl at her the entire time. That would make a better photo, right?”
Brice ignored his egging. “Tonight’s the math challenge.”
“Ugh.” The problem-solving portion of the competition. “Don’t remind me.”
Evan glanced at the clock. Twenty minutes until he was supposed to show up in the high school gym so he could sit at a table and take a math quiz while his neighbors watched.
“You build things for a living. That makes you inherently good at math.”
“Good at some math,” Evan clarified. “The practical kind. Not the kind that goes ‘Jane is on a train going twice as fast as Timmy’s train, but only three times as fast as Lenny’s. If Lenny has two oranges and Jane has five, but throws one out the window, what color shirt is Timmy wearing?’”
“It’s called a word problem.”
“If those are on the test, I’m going to sketch pictures of sharks instead. Maybe they’ll up my creativity points from Sunday.”
His brother closed the laptop and removed the drawer from the cash register. “So you’re going to hand this win to Claire, too?”
“I didn’t hand her the last challenge.” Evan took the cash drawer and put it in the safe. He went to lock up the front door. They were already past closing time. “My goose crumbled seconds before the judges showed. These challenges are all about entertainment, anyway. I’m not that concerned about winning them.”
“What about the actual position?” Brice leaned against the counter and folded his arms over his chest. His brother was built like a house, wide and strong. If Evan didn’t know that Brice was really an easy pushover, he’d make an intimidating image. “Are you still concerned with winning that?”
Evan sighed. The only reason he was in the election at all was because Brice had told him to do it. He’d do anything for his brother. After the childhood they’d had together, he owed it to Brice. In the past Evan had given up everything for him. Not that Brice knew that, nor would he ever if it was up to Evan.
But he could at least come clean about the race. “Honest answer?”
“Of course.”
He took a deep breath and let his words spill out in a rush. “I never cared about winning it. I’m running because you told me to.”
“You want what’s best for this town. You care about it. She doesn’t.”
“How do you know she doesn’t care?”
“Sesser—”
“She’s not her father. When are you going to get that through your head? She’s not out to be his minion.”
Brice disliked the man more than Evan did, which was difficult to top. But Brice allowed his feelings concerning Sesser to color his reasoning when it came to Claire. He’d never approved of Evan’s relationship with her. Brice had been at college when she and Evan dated. Evan needed his brother to understand that Claire was different than Sesser. If there was one thing she wanted, it was to be known for herself, not her association with her dad.
“Claire’s smart. She puts others first. She wants the best for this town because this is where she’s raising her son.” When his brother didn’t speak, Evan added, “Maybe it’s not so bad if she wins.”
“I can’t believe this.” Brice started pacing again. Never a good sign.
“I hate disappointing you. I just—”
Brice speared him with a look of disbelief. “You love her again. It came back.”
Evan couldn’t deny it. He’d realized how he felt the night Alex and Claire had come for dinner. When he’d helped them out to their car he hadn’t wanted to let them go. They belonged at his house. With him.
At least, that’s what kept running through his head.
Not that it mattered. He’d never act on those thoughts. Stepping into Claire’s life would only cause her pain, like before. Her parents didn’t like him. Besides, Claire still refused to talk to him about their past. If she wasn’t even willing to have that conversation, they could never move forward. Hurt didn’t heal by ignoring it.
Evan slumped against the wall. “Was it ever gone? I mean, yeah, I shoved it away and told myself I wasn’t allowed to care. But...” He tossed his hands up and gave an exaggerated shrug. He loved Claire. “Don’t worry. Claire and I...we would never work.”
Brice nodded. “It would be close to impossible, the Danielses and the Atwoods.”
“Water and oil.”
* * *
Claire covered the smile blooming on her face as she watched Evan march up and down the hallway outside the gymnasium. Banks had explained that they were to stay tucked away until he announced them.
She peered through the narrow window in a door. Two sets of bleachers were pulled out and residents filled most of the seats. Alex and his friend Kasey were dancing with a group of other children around someone dressed as the school mascot, Jaws the Gator. Gator Pride, a concession stand built into the side of the gym, had a line of people waiting for drinks and the lukewarm hot dogs they sold. The sweet smells of fresh cotton candy and brewing coffee formed an oddly pleasant aroma when mingled together.
Evan continued to pace.
Claire shook her head. “You’re going to wear a groove into the floor if you don’t stop that.”
He chuckled and rubbed his chin. With a sigh he sagged back against a locker, one foot propped against the metal. And that quickly, he was the teenage boy she’d fallen for, leaning in the same hallway where they’d walked together, flashing a dimpled smile meant only for her.
Despite his happy demeanor, his gaze was faraway, distracted. “Do you read the gossip blog?”
“Like the ones about celebrities?”
“No.” He folded his arms. “The Goose Harbor one.”
Goose Tales. Of course.
“You mean the one my dad is on a tirade about?” If she’d thought her father had overreacted about the photos Jason had taken to announce her and Evan as candidates, he’d almost lost his mind when he’d discovered the updates from the anonymous blog. Last night he’d slammed every door in the house and kept repeating that it had been a mistake for her to come home. How come you couldn’t have married Pierce and been done with all of this? Why couldn’t you have done that one, simple thing?
“Brice, too.”
Evan’s brother and she had formed a tenuous relationship for Kendall’s benefit. Claire would stand in their wedding on Friday, and always encourage Kendall and speak well about the man her friend loved. But Brice hung back from Claire whenever they were in the same room. She couldn’t work out if it was because he was somewhat shy or if it was more personal. It often felt the latter. He didn’t like her father—that was common knowledge—but was there more to it?
“Brice doesn’t like me much, does he?”
“I don’t think that’s the case. Only he’s invested in seeing me win.” Evan straightened and clapped his hands together before stalking to the gym doors. “Why is Banks still talking? I wish he’d call our names and get it over with.”
“Nervous?”
“Back in the day, I used to copy off your exams. Think they’d still let me do that?”
He’d talked his way out of plenty of detentions for that kind of behavior.
Claire shouldn’t encourage him, but she couldn’t help the comfort she found in joking around with Evan. “Mrs. Ottley is still the head of the math block and her eyesight’s even worse than when we were students. You might be able to pull it off.”
He peered through one of the windows. “Too bad about those two hundred people on the bleachers who might notice.”
She followed him. Touched his elbow to get his attention. “Thank you,” she said softly. “For yesterday. You deserved to win.”
She’d only built snowmen—half of which she’d shoved over in frustration when she was contemplating giving up on the competition. But Evan had saved her from collapsing the last three and she’d had enough time to paint murals depicting Goose Harbor all over them. They’d turned out pretty, but Evan had created a huge, beautiful sculpture. Even though it had broken minutes before the judging, he still should have won.
He batted his hand. “Your snow painting was great. You may want to take up the new medium.”
She walked her fingers from his elbow down to his hand and squeezed it. “I wouldn’t have done it without you.”
Evan, her hero, her encourager. The one person who looked at her and saw her, even better than she saw and understood herself.
Evan glanced at their hands together. He traced his thumb over her knuckles. “We make a pretty good team, don’t we?”
Mr. Banks called their names over the loudspeaker. Their cue.
There was a sadness in his sigh. “Too bad we’re running against each other.”