“No ‘buts’ about it! How can I ever trust him again?”
“Maybe by what his actions say about him, rather than his words? See what he does next. I’ve heard he’s gone into business with Rob.”
“Rob? Who told you that?”
“Gabe saw Rob last night.”
“He didn’t say anything to me!” Amber was annoyed that Rob hadn’t thought to say anything to her about it.
“Maybe Rob doesn’t know about you and David.”
“Maybe,” said Amber doubtfully. “But, even so. Why is David working with Rob? Rob is into heritage buildings.”
“Maybe David has had a change of heart.”
Before Amber could respond, the door burst open and Gabe planted a kiss on his wife’s cheek, a pat on her stomach and grabbed a cup of coffee. “Amber!” He greeted her before downing half his coffee. He looked from one to the other. “What’s going on? Have I missed something? You’re both looking thoughtful, which is always dangerous.”
Maddy grinned and gave Gabe a hug. “Sure is. Amber and I are going into business together.”
Both Amber and Gabe looked up in surprise.
“We’re going to buy the café. Amber’s going to continue to do what she’s so brilliant at—be the person who everyone comes to see and chat with—the village hub. And I’ll do what I’m so ‘brilliant’ at.” She tapped her laptop. “Create magic with my spreadsheets. I’ll do the behind-the-scenes stuff and Amber will do the front of house stuff. It’ll be a marriage made in heaven.”
Gabe chucked her under her chin and kissed her. “That’s what we have.”
Amber groaned and took her empty cup to the sink. “I’m out of here. Thanks, Maddy. I think it’ll be brilliant. Let’s talk about it tomorrow.” Amber plucked her bag from the chair and walked away from the kissing couple. “See you, then.”
She didn’t get a reply.
David lookedaround the packed museum. He saw Amber immediately, surrounded by her friends and family. His spirits dropped. He’d hoped he’d be able to exchange at least a few words with her, but knew that penetrating the force field that was her family would take more than his courage. But she’d see. Later, she’d see. She had to.
There was standing room only as the museum manager, wiping sweat from his forehead, squeezed through to the rear of the museum.
“As you can see,” he said, indicating the donation indicator on the wall behind him, “our donations are down and we’re going to have to reduce hours, as well as the pieces we show, if we are to continue at all.”
There were murmurs of discontent and a few calls, including one from Jim Connelly. The museum director held up his hand for silence.
“Please, let me finish. We are simply under-funded and the council refuses to help us any more, which means we’ll have to rely on the generosity of our community.” There were more grumbles.
Jim cleared his throat. “As much as we appreciate the work the museum is doing, and its importance, we can’t go on shoveling money into something which is an empty pit!” Jim’s voice carried easily; his love for amateur dramatics always came to the fore at such public meetings. Other people muttered in agreement.
“There’s only so much volunteers can do!” someone added.
“Exactly!” continued Jim. “Which is why we’ve cast our net a bit wider this time, and, hopefully, come up with a solution.” The murmurs of discontent became friendlier. “I’ll let David Tremayne outline his proposal.”
The crowd parted and David stepped up to the small podium upon which the museum director stood, and for the first time in his life he felt a fluttering of nerves as he looked around. He was accustomed to public speaking, and he was used to telling people what to do. What he wasn’t familiar with was imparting information, which was neither an instruction nor a command. He cleared his throat and glanced at Amber. He needed grounding, and he needed to be the man of whom Amber would be proud.
“We have a problem and I would like to propose a solution.” Some things didn’t change. He’d always appreciated clarity in public speaking.
“‘We’? You don’t even live here! We don’t need some property developer coming in, tearing down our houses and donating money to assuage your conscience!”
Pandemonium erupted, which David tried to ignore as the museum director called for order.
“Mr. Tremaynedoeslive here. Isn’t that right?”
David nodded. “I live next door. I’m not going anywhere,” he said, looking at Amber. The message was for her. “I’m here to stay. It’s where my heart is.”
For one long moment their gazes tangled before she looked away with an effort which David couldn’t interpret. Did she understand what he was saying? Because, if she wouldn’t take his calls, or talk to him directly, it was the only way he could get the message across.
