“First, we should solve the more immediate problem on our hands,” Hunter said. “The Holbrooks have Sadie.”
“They kidnapped her?”
“God no. They’re hiring her,” Garrett said. “She has an interview scheduled for this afternoon with the Holbrook Foundation.”
“How do you know?”
“I have my ways,” Garrett said.
“You hacked her phone?”
“Penny found out from Ida, who found out from Barbara, who told Nancy to interview Sadie. It’s not hacking; it’s just the small-town gossip mill at work,” Hunter said.
“I use any and all resources available to me,” Garrett said haughtily.
“The question now is,” Hunter said, “what are you going to do about it?”
“Nothing.” I flopped back down on the bed.
“That’s it?” Garrett said. “Our sworn enemies have poached your girlfriend, and you’re going back to sleep?”
“She is her own person and can make her own decisions,” I said, voice muffled by the pillow.
“Now you really are acting like Hunter,” Garrett said. “If you aren’t actually willing to fight for her, then you don’t deserve her.”
“Maybe I don’t,” I said.
“I think you do. We’re family; we have to stick together. Which is why I’m not letting you go down Hunter’s road. You deserve to be happy. So get up and shower,” Garrett ordered. “You look like a homeless person. Sadie’s not going to want that.”
Garrett and Hunter dragged me to the shower, and Garrett turned on the spray.
“It’s freezing!” I gasped. “You ruined my clothes.”
“They were already ruined. Davy scribbled all over your shirt,” Garrett said, pointing through the shower glass. I looked down to see red, orange, and yellow ink running down my white dress shirt.
“I wanted to draw you a picture to cheer you up!” Davy said.
After dressing in the suit Hunter picked out, I dragged myself downstairs. Remy was at the dining room table. He had a large, handcrafted wooden box and a pile of random trinkets and snacks next to it.
“This is for your big grand gesture and apology. Ellis and Billy coordinated the effort to collect things Sadie would like,” Remy informed me.
I picked through the offerings. “Cheese twists? Candy. The gasoline—excuse me, liquor—that Art distills in his shed?”
“It’s all locally sourced goods,” Remy insisted.
Hunter looked at it critically. “He needs flowers too. Then it will be perfect.”
* * *
I satin the backseat of the pickup with Davy while Remy drove us over to Ernest’s farm. Hunter and Remy were talking about the maker space.
“I don’t think it’s going to happen. Apparently Ida and Barbara went full scorched earth, and sponsors are pulling out. Meg is going to cave to the protests. Greg was screaming at Carl on the phone earlier; he’s pretty angry. The worst is, we promised a lot of the farmers funding,” Remy said. In the rearview mirror, his face was worried.
“I’ll give them whatever money you need.” I said. “This was my fault.”
“We’re going to fix it,” Remy said brightly.
“Yeah!” Davy chirped. “It’s going to be okay.”
