“Understood.” He smiled, but it wasn’t the exaggerated, wide, fake grin that made me want to roll my eyes. It was smaller and softer. Maybe even genuine. “Thanks for humoring me.”
I checked the time. His five minutes were up. “I’ll email the conditions for the site plan revision. You’ll need to provide the stamped stormwater plan, fixture cut sheets, and ADA path detail. Include a trash maintenance schedule and proof of liability along with coverage that includes the courts. Then post the public notice and submit the affidavit with your packet.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “Do I get a gold star if I bring donuts when I turn it in?”
And he was back… the annoying Dane who thought he didn’t have to play by the same rules as everyone else. “Donuts don’t influence approvals,” I said. “Correct documentation does.”
He laughed. “It was worth a shot.”
Harvey limped over, bracing his weight on his cane.
“Ms. March,” he said, his tone holding an old-fashioned mix of kindness and respect. “Recovery’s a slow process, but this place already kept me moving when I wasn’t sure I could. Courts would keep a lot of us moving through winter. Before I forget, here’s a list of seniors who want to sign up if the courts go through. We figured it’d help to show how much interest there already is.”
I took the piece of paper he handed me and scanned the names. There were more than I expected. “Thank you, though that won’t fast-track any approvals,” I said as I passed it back to him.
“We’ve been waiting a long time for something like this,” he said with quiet conviction. “It’ll keep us moving, keep us connected. That matters more than you might think.” With that, he gave me a nod and then headed over to join the others, his smile calm and sure.
Wonderful. Dane even had the entire senior population cheering for him. On my way out, I paused at the back door and took one last look at the lot. My job was to treat every applicant the same. The rules existed to keep a town running, not to make anyone’s life harder. Still, there were moments when it would be easier just to say no.
“Rowan,” Dane said as he stopped next to me. “I know I made a bad impression yesterday.”
“Not really,” I said. “You made an impression consistent with your file.”
He accepted that without flinching. “When I bring you that packet, I hope your opinion of me improves.”
I faced the lot again so he wouldn’t see my expression. “I don’t consider reputations or impressions when I review an application.”
“You’re allowed to consider outcomes, though,” he said. “Yesterday you asked for follow-through. I’m bringing it.”
He didn’t sound defensive. He sounded like someone who had decided to do the work.
I wrote a final note and tucked my clipboard under my arm. “The next meeting is a week from Thursday at five. If your packet is complete, I’ll put it on the agenda.”
“You’ll have it before then.” He held the door for me like it was the easiest thing to do. “By the way, are you going to the grand opening of Sabrina’s new coffee shop tomorrow?”
My pulse spiked, but I immediately willed my heart rate back to normal. His curiosity didn’t mean anything. “As an employee of the town, it’s expected.”
“Maybe I’ll see you there.” He gave me another dazzling smile.
Despite my resolve to be unaffected by his efforts to charm me, I braced myself as I brushed past him.
Less than thirty minutes after I’d arrived, I was back in my car. I sat for a few seconds with my hands on the wheel, listening to the soft chatter of birds hanging out in the trees above. My checklists hadn’t failed me. Neither had caution. Those were the things that kept chaos from chewing holes in the life I’d managed to build.
Even so, when I closed my eyes, I saw a hand hovering at my elbow, ready to catch me if the balance shifted. I exhaled, opened my eyes, and started the engine.
Happily-ever-afters were for others, not for me. Tomorrow, I would write the conditions. By next Thursday I would know if the Butterfly could do more than coast on air.
CHAPTER 3
DANE
By the time I got to Main Street, the ribbon was already strung across the front of Morning Wood Coffee. Hard Timber hadn’t turned out like this since Timber Days back at the beginning of the summer. Folks crowded the sidewalk, kids ran around on the grass, and the air smelled like cinnamon rolls and fresh espresso. With only a couple weeks until the Founders’ Festival, every grand opening, sign touch-up, and window box mattered. Main Street needed to look alive before the parade rolled through.
Someone had tied wildflowers to the lampposts, and a handmade banner flapped above the door. “Morning Wood Coffee — Grand Opening” curved across it in Sabrina’s curly handwriting, with a little mug sketched in the corner like steam might float right off the paint.
Sabrina Meyer was everywhere at once. She handed out samples, hugged three people at a time, and laughed like she’d been waiting years for this morning. Everyone knew her from they years she spent working at the Timber Mill Inn, but this place was all hers. The huge smile on her face said she knew it too.
“Feels like Timber Days, just smaller,” Holt said when I found him near the steps. Lane sat high up on his shoulders, pointing at the pastry case like he’d never seen a muffin before.
