Thalia grimaced. “Not really, but maybe I’d better since Mother’s leading the charge.” She cocked her head. “How about you, Emily? How do you stand on all this?”
“I can see both sides,” Emily admitted. “I do think the houses are quite nice, and I understand the next phase will be even nicer—and more expensive. On the other hand, I hate to see things change in our little hometown.” She sighed. “It’s a puzzlement.”
AND SO IT CERTAINLY SEEMED as Thalia made the rounds renewing old acquaintances. Emily was right—sentiment appeared to be very evenly split. She wondered how Luke felt about it, then realized he would surely back his mother. The Daltons, after all, stood to make a great deal of money from this project…not that they needed it. One of the pioneer families of Shepherd’s Pass, they were also the wealthiest.
Luke called Thalia Monday night and asked her out to a movie; she turned him down. He called her again Tuesday morning and asked her to lunch; again she turned him down, saying she’d be filling in at her mother’s flower shop and couldn’t count on getting away for lunch at any particular time.
Still, she was less than surprised when he dropped by at noon with a bag full of sandwiches from the Paper Sack. Refusing to acknowledge the obvious, she gave him an impersonal smile, hands poised over the file drawer.
“May I help you?”
“You sure can.” He hit her with a winning smile. “You can help me eat all this food.” He held up the bag.
“Thanks, but I’m working.”
Miss Pauline, manning the phones at the desk up front, tsked-tsked. “Now, Thalia, you have to eat you know.”
“Actually, I already have.” She’d gobbled a candy bar on the run an hour ago but saw no need to go into detail. “Sorry Luke, but I’ve got to make deliveries this afternoon. Mother’s finishing up the orders now and I’ll be leaving in just a few minutes.”
He sighed with exaggerated disappointment. “Okay, if that’s how it is. I’ll just take one of these sandwiches and leave the rest, in case Miss Pauline or your mom’s hungry.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“I know.” He reached inside the big bag and pulled out a foam container. “You seem to be keeping busy day and night.”
She knew he was thinking about her various rejections, and simply shrugged.
“Any chance you’ll be going to the Shangri-la meeting Wednesday evening?” He opened the foam box and hauled out half of an enormous sandwich.
“I haven’t decided,” she said noncommittally, although she had. She must support her mother. Lorraine had asked her daughter to go not a half hour earlier and that clinched it. “How about you?”
“Same.” He opened the sandwich bag and looked inside. “How’s Reckless?”
“Same. We haven’t forgotten what you said. We’ll bring him in first chance we get.”
“Good.” Of Miss Pauline he inquired, “How about Gertrude? Is she doing okay?”
“Oh, yes, Doctor. She’s her old self again. I can’t thank you enough for what you did for her.”
“Just doin’ my job, ma’am,” he said with false modesty and a lot of good humor. “Guess if I can’t talk either of you lovely ladies into dining with me, I might as well run along.”
“Why, I’ll be glad to dine with you,” Miss Pauline said. “Pull up that chair and make yourself comfortable, Lucas. That way I can answer the phone and still—”
The bell behind the counter tinkled. Thalia, who’d almost finished the filing, straightened. “That’s Mother,” she announced. “The order’s ready. If you’ll both excuse me—”
She wasn’t even sure they heard as they busily examined the contents of the bag for the tuna salad Luke was sure he’d ordered.
LUKE FINISHED his second sandwich and patted his stomach. “I can’t eat another bite,” he declared. He reconsidered and added, “Well, maybe a brownie.” He fished out a large wrapped square from the bottom of a bag now containing mostly discarded paper and boxes.
Miss Pauline smiled. “That was quite a nice break in my routine,” she said. “Do drop by anytime you like, Lucas.”
“I’ll do that.” He gave her a warm smile and rose. “I’ve got to get back to work now. Doc Miller’s got late lunch.”
“Of course. You run along.” She patted daintily at her lips with a paper napkin. “And Lucas…”
He paused with his hand on the glass door. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Thalia promised her mother she’d attend that meeting tomorrow night. I heard her. I don’t know why she said that to you.”
Sneaky, he thought. “A woman has a right to change her mind, I guess,” he said, opting for the popular view.
“This is not your typical woman.” She looked puzzled. “I’ve never known anyone who took everything so seriously. I’m certain that to her, a promise is a promise—and she promised her mother.” Miss Pauline’s smile was innocent. “I mention this in case you might have some particular interest.”
“I’m interested, all right. Very interested.” He waved and pushed the door open. “Thanks, Miss Pauline. I owe you one.”
He left Lorraine’s Pretty Posies shop whistling.
“FANCY MEETING YOU HERE.”
Thalia looked up from the water fountain at city hall and into the smiling face of Luke Dalton. A sense of inevitability settled over her. How could she feign surprise?
“Yes, fancy that,” she said dryly. “Here to support your mother, I suppose?”
“Here to see you, mostly.”
His blunt response shocked her. “Really.” She turned back into the council chamber where citizen had followed citizen to the podium for the past hour, taking sides in what was shaping up as a real civic crisis. The seven elected council members had been listening with resigned expressions.
“I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.” He fell in beside her, deftly guiding her into a seat at the back of the room where it would be possible to converse in low tones, as opposed to the occasionally loud tones of those clustered down front. “To tell you the truth, I’ve tried to steer clear of this scrap,” he went on. “I can see both sides. With a little compromise, you’d think…” He shrugged. “From what I’ve seen so far, neither side seems particularly interested in compromise.”
“That about sums it up.” A man she didn’t immediately recognize had approached the podium. Silver-haired and erect, he carried a white Stetson and wore a western-cut suit and fancy cowboy boots. “Who’s that?” she whispered.
“That’s Four-Jay himself—Joe John Jeff Jordan, the developer. He’s from Texas.”
The man began to speak and Thalia grinned.
“I hope to shout, he’s from Texas. Listen to that drawl.”
Luke grinned back, his smile lighting up an already attractive face. “People get so interested in his accent that they forget to pay attention to what he’s saying. He is one sharp operator.”
“You can say that again.”
The large room slowly quieted as the tall Texan continued speaking in his soothing drawl. Even Lorraine, surrounded by supporters on one side of the aisle, and Sylvia with her faction on the other, paused to listen.
“Who’s the guy whispering in Sylvia’s ear?” Thalia asked.
“Surely