“You look about the same size as my assistant-slash-business manager… person. I asked her to run out and pick up a cream-colored one,” he says. “As a thank you. I felt bad that your sweater was ruined and you mentioned you wished it was cashmere, so it was my attempt at an upgrade. If you don’t like it, I’ll take it back and have her get you a wool one.”
I hold the sweater against my chest, running my fingers all over the fabric. “You’ll tear it out of my cold dead hands.”
He grins. “So you like it?”
I nod, debating pulling it over my head right here and now. Then again, that might show my cards a little. “I mean, it’s okay.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Only okay? The price of that sweater could have fed a family of four for a month.”
I shrug. “Might need another one in black. Maybe navyblue. I think that would go really well with the sunflowers, don’t you?”
He takes another bite of his food. “Blue would look great with the sunflowers.” He takes a sip of his whiskey. “How about we reschedule that tour from the other night and if that goes well, maybe I’ll buy you one in blue as a thank you.”
I tuck the sweater back into the bag and pull it toward my side of the table. “I’d be happy to show you around. No sweater needed,” I say, taking a small bite of my food and blowing on it. “That was really nice of you. Thank you.”
He grins. “You’re welcome.”
When we makeit back to the municipal building a couple hours and a few drinks later, the closed session is finishing up. Mayor Reed blusters by us as we walk in, and Margie only rolls her eyes as she heads toward us with a small stack of papers in her hands.
“He’s all upset because his neighbors have decided to start raising chickens—apparently not realizing one was a rooster—and he can’t get the town council to block them,” she explains under her breath as the door slams shut behind him. “They’re perfectly within their right to raise chickens, so he’s going to have to take care of things the old-fashioned way and make a friend out of his neighbor.”
Ryder elbows me, nodding as if the whole world is trying to maintain friendly neighbor relations except for me.
I roll my eyes. “He should push them into a stream. That seems to do the trick,” I suggest.
Margie cocks her head to the side as Ryder snorts.
“Well anyway,” she says. “Your approved application." She hands a copy of it back to me with a form filled out by the town council that officially designates the water wheel as historical. “Congratulations, Evie. The historical society isreallyexcited about this. And we see your note about preserving the function of the water wheel and we completely agree. Something so unique like thatmustbe preserved. Thank you for allowing us the pleasure of including it—we’ll have a plaque out to you within the next week or so.”
“Thanks Margie,” I say, holding it against my chest.
It might not be the outcome that I always wanted, but it’s a relief that at least Margie—who’s a shining member of the town’s historical society—sees how important the water wheel is. While this doesn’t necessarily mean I get any of the town’s historical funding if something goes wrong, itdoesmean I have a chance.
And more importantly, they see that I’m willing to play their game. I may not have a ton of power here, but if the town council decides to screw over the namesake sunflower farm after the ruckus I made about having protection for the historical portions of my property—after my very public resistance as well as my public acquiescence—they’re going to have to answer to some angry townspeople.
Though, if I had to bet, Margie would be right up front fighting for some answers. The only reason she’s the town secretary is because she felt the historical society had gotten sidelined one too many times, and took it to heart when someone told herif you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.
And she’s been the thorn in Mayor Reed’s side ever since.
She turns to Ryder. “And I’m sorry to say Mayor Reed wasn’t a fan of your proposal. There are some notes writtenat the bottom there. We suggest trying again at the next closed session.”
His jaw drops, his eyes wide. “What? But that proposal was exactly what he described to me.”
Margie nods. “I know, Ryder. I’m sorry. That rooster that’s been waking him up every morning is screwing upeveryone’slives. Mayor Reed had an issue with the amount of housing offered as well as the proximity to Eve’s land without any indication thatshe’sokay with that.”
A little jolt runs through me.Is Mayor Reed actually in my corner for once?
Maybe this application to the historical society is exactly what I needed after all.
Ryder’s eyes narrow. “Amount of housing as in too much or too little?”
“Too little.”
Ryder nods. “So he wants me to somehow increase the amount of units available while also backing off Eve’s land?”
Margie’s nose crinkles as she nods.
“Does he realize he’s asking me to carve up a really beautiful property for the sake of putting units in there? I’m trying to preserve the land. Preserve the nature around Eve’s property. Asking me to push more units means asphalt wasteland in the middle of what is—right now, at least—a naturally beautiful area that doesn’t need significant work to build on.”
