Her Unexpected Hero--A Clean Romance Page 15

  Watching Janet’s jaw slowly drop convinced Winter that it was time to put Leanne in a quiet timeout. In less than half an hour, all the hard work would pay off. Neither Winter nor Janet had as much invested as Leanne. It had to be difficult to stand in front of something she’d created, and prepare to hear whatever anyone might say. Would it be harder to handle praise or criticism?

  For Leanne, neither would be easy. She was accustomed to Sweetwater’s criticism. How would the change to praise feel?

  “Why don’t you go arrange the storage room instead? We’ve got a mess to clean up before we can replace anything that sells tonight.” When Leanne frowned at her, she nodded slowly. “Take your time. Move things around in there. Put everything in order.”

  Leanne’s shaky nod wasn’t convincing, but she disappeared into the storage room and closed the door firmly behind her.

  “Good thing the place ain’t got a back door. She’d be running into the night.” Janet pursed her lips. “Did you tell her about the reporter you have coming to cover the opening?”

  Winter frowned as she considered the question. She was never certain whether Janet was innocently tangling things or operating from a plan. She was devious with an innocent face. Learning to read her would take time. Had it been her suggestion? Yes, but Winter wasn’t sure it was a good one or that she would have gone through with it except for Janet’s urging.

  “The reporter you insisted I contact and insinuate there would be an interview, here, in the gallery, in hope of some extra positive press will arrive in...” Winter studied her phone. “Ten minutes or less.” Bailey Garcia had been calling every other hour for the last two days. Why? Winter wasn’t sure, and she’d decided the only way to maintain the fragile truce with the Callaways was to stop speaking publicly.

  When Janet had finally managed to get the details on who was calling, she’d demanded they capitalize on it. “When I refuse to talk about the Callaways, this will be the last chance we get.”

  She wasn’t sure she was ready for the microphone to be thrust in her face again. For years, as the public outreach officer for the reserve, she’d smoothly handled all questions and small crises without much of a hiccup.

  Then her brother had landed on the front page of every newspaper in the state, blamed and praised as the man responsible for stopping the Callaways in their tracks, and she’d had to fight to save his job. Considering that the Callaways had been the largest benefactors of universities, hospitals and charity events in east Tennessee, Ash’s press during the fight over the lodge had not been positive.

  Not that it would bother her stoic brother much.

  Janet waved her hands. “We make good use of the chance we have, then. Make sure she hangs around long enough to get a shot of all the movers and shakers here in Sweetwater.” Janet was fussing with items on the small table set up to serve wine and hors d’oeuvres, all provided by the kid out at the campground who’d shown a flair for appetizers. “You did make sure that cute Callaway boy got a special invitation, didn’t you?” Before Winter could ignore Janet’s nosiness and ask for a list of who Sweetwater’s VIPs might be, the Kingfisher clan arrived en masse.

  Her father was first through the door. “My baskets! They are pieces of art. I never believed it could be true, but here they are.” He hugged Winter first and then Janet. “You will let me tell people how they’re made, won’t you? That would be a boost to the classes I’m teaching. Working with the seniors’ center is fun, but I’m not sure it’s doing much to pass the craft on to the next generation, if you understand what I’m saying.” Winter watched her tall father bend his head attentively to Janet Abernathy and knew how powerful his enthusiasm could be. His charm was contagious.

  “Dad, if we have a chance, would you be willing to talk on camera?” Winter asked. Could she pull that off? She wasn’t sure. Bailey Garcia was coming for a political story, not small-town feel-good, but Martin Kingfisher could win her over, too. The way her father’s eyes lit up made her laugh. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear Enthusiasm was his middle name. “Our goal here is to make it clear that this is art with a history, a connection to this area. You can do that by talking about Einisi and how she passed this on to you.” Winter nodded along to get his agreement. This was what she wanted to do with the gallery—tell the history of the people who’d lived here. As long as it made money, Janet was fully on board.

  “Yes.” Her father snapped to attention. “Your mother won’t let me do that—tell long stories to everyone who asks—not anymore, but I’m ready.”

  Winter met her mother’s stare and then wrapped her hand around her father’s arm. “Do me another favor, too, can you?”

  Some of the teasing faded, and she knew, no matter what she asked, her father would move mountains to make it happen. This was the kind of family she had. How lucky she was.

  “Leanne is in the storage room. She’s nervous about the crowd and answering questions about how she works. Could you distract her?” Winter knew there was no one in the room more qualified to put Leanne Hendrix at ease. Her father had done it more than once when Winter was a girl obsessively worried over grades and perfection and so much. He could do this.

  Winter eased back as he knocked on the door. When it opened, her father said, “I heard you needed a big strong man to help with moving things. I couldn’t find one of those so here I am instead. Point me to my doom.”

  Dad jokes. That’s how he’d always managed to ease the tension in the room at home. He had a million of them, all usually exclaimed loudly.

  Winter loved him for it.

  She hurried back to hug her mother, who whispered, “This is going to be amazing.” She’d corralled her long blond hair into four braids and then arranged those braids into...something. A ring of tiny roses dotted her crown. The original flower child had come out in full force to support her daughter. “I’ll go hang out over there by the baskets to make sure your father stays on task.” She marched away, the hem of her long skirt drifting as she moved. Her mother might appear to be the laid-back one of the Kingfisher couple, but she made the rules and they all marched to them. Thus, the homemade shampoo, the baskets that needed a new home and a hundred other strong recommendations a day.

  “You sure it was a good idea to have us all here?” her brother asked from behind her. “I mean, the two of them are risky enough. Add me into the mix and...” He raised his eyebrows. Anytime her brother could go wordless, he would. He’d always been the strong, silent type, and when his job was in jeopardy, Winter had been frustrated to the point of anger with his inability to defend himself.

  So she’d had to do it. Her guilt at putting him in that spot had helped keep her irritation under control. Otherwise, he’d be jobless and holed up in a literal cave somewhere.

  Instead, he was here. At a social event. Wearing... “Is that a suit coat?” Winter drawled. The ranger uniform was his only fashion choice, usually. He looked so strange in civilian clothes that casual acquaintances might not even recognize him.

  “It is.” Macy Gentry stepped up beside him, lifted his arm and draped it over her shoulder. “I won a bet. Your brother doesn’t like my shopping list. I like to shop the specials, you see? He said no one could eat a whole jar of dill pickles, but he never gave a time frame.” Macy shrugged. “Or what I won when I proved him wrong. So I did it. It took a week, but it’s worth it because look how handsome he is. The ranger uniform is nice and all, but I stare at that all the time.” She tapped his chest—he was wearing a plain button-down. “This is date-night material.”

  Since the two of them had become a couple, Winter had seen changes in her brother that she welcomed. The way he wrapped his arm tighter to pull Macy closer was one of those sweet changes. The chaos brought on by the lodge report and the governor’s attack on Whit had brought about at least one good thing. Ash and Macy were meant to be together.

  “Wish we w
ere spending date night alone, on a hike down to Otter Lake to find some constellations, but no. We’re here. With people.” He didn’t sigh, but the minute change to his expression made Winter grin.

  “Because you love me, big brother.” She rushed forward to hug them both, shocking all three of them.

  Ash squeezed her tightly for a second before stepping back. “Go. Mingle.”

  Winter noticed a group of reserve firefighters loitering near the door and tugged on her suit coat, prepared to move them farther into the gallery. This party was for the people of Sweetwater. Janet wanted to make sure everyone knew the focus of the gallery was their art, their stories, so this grand opening was taking place before the tourists hit. For Sweetwater.

  She was arranging the proper words in her head to set everyone at ease when she remembered Bailey Garcia’s imminent arrival. She leaned closer to her brother. “Bailey Garcia will be here. If you guys want to duck out when she arrives, I get it.”

  Ash considered that. “No. Bailey was a big help during the lodge mess. No reason to avoid her now.”

  “What if she asks questions about the progress?” She would totally ask questions about the progress. Winter knew exactly why Bailey was headed to Sweetwater. The only interesting thing about the Kingfishers and even Sweetwater was the connection to that reserve, the bone of contention between Whit Callaway and the governor he intended to defeat in the next election.

  “I’ll answer them. Had a good talk with Caleb today when I drove out to check the road condition and materials. He’s working a miracle so far. Got two different crews running.” Ash tilted his head to the side. “Money talks loud enough to bring in crews from Knoxville, apparently.”

  Caleb Callaway again. He was either the subject of conversation or in her thoughts all the time. Would he attend the gallery opening? It wasn’t his kind of thing. Neither was it Ash’s, but her brother had put on a suit coat and changed his date-night plans. For her.

  Caleb would be there. He’d done more for her with less to gain. Showing his face here would be a step in the right direction to change Sweetwater’s opinion of him and he was smart enough to figure that out on his own. Why was she so sure she knew how he thought? That was a question that needed an answer.

  All day long she’d come out of a daydream to realize she’d been staring into space as she remembered the way Caleb had looked at her while they’d shared a sunny spot on Otter Lake, and how he’d thoroughly enjoyed his mother’s cooking. Bright sunshine, easy laughter—that’s where the romance had come from, not Caleb and his handsome face.

  But that kiss.

  That had been romance and straight from Caleb Callaway.

  Winter waved a hand in front of her face. The heat from her cheeks wouldn’t go anywhere but it was the only solution she had at this point.

  Half a second too late, Winter realized her brother and Macy were observing her mini meltdown. “I better...” She pointed over her shoulder and turned away.

  Winter took advantage of the bustle around the doorway to rest her forehead against the cool glass. Caleb was notorious for dating Nashville’s most beautiful women. Wealthy daughters and ex-wives who were movers and shakers in the Callaway social circle, beauty-pageant winners and even country-music stars. He knew women. It made sense that his attention knocked her off balance.

  The fact that it was working was so annoying.

  “Are you all right?” Macy asked from over her shoulder, so Winter straightened. This kind of behavior is what provoked people to ask that kind of question, which she normally dreaded.

  “Sure. You never had a doubt we’d make tonight happen, did you?” Winter asked with a bright smile. This was the Winter Kingfisher people expected, not one confused over feelings she should not have for a man.

  “Never.” Macy shook her head firmly. “So glad you aren’t waiting tables, though. That, I had my doubts about.” Laughing with Macy brought Winter back around. She was Winter Kingfisher. She wasn’t great at everything, but this? This was her element.

  The reminder came in due course.

  Because the Knoxville Channel Six News van had pulled up in front of the window.

  Bailey Garcia had arrived.

  It was showtime.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  STANDING OUTSIDE ON the sidewalk and staring in the window of Sweetwater Souvenir was a new experience, but the dread in the pit of his stomach was familiar. He’d experienced it in December, when he’d followed Ash and Winter Kingfisher all the way back to the Otter Lake ranger-station open house. He’d wanted to be there to watch Winter win the battle over the location for the lodge in front of the town of Sweetwater.

  At the time, he hadn’t noticed any of the changes he now spotted in the town.

  Probably because his mind was locked in on Winter Kingfisher.

  She’d convinced him to take the brunt of the report being made public, ended her engagement and her employment at the reserve in one day, and done it with power and passion, with one fierce shove.

  For the first time he wondered what might have happened if she’d taken her win less publicly.

  Would she and Whit have worked out their issues for the good of...whatever it was between them? Whether the answer was yes or no, there was the possibility she’d still have her job. No one could represent the reserve better than Winter Kingfisher.

  That public showdown with the Callaways had accomplished one big thing: Winter had become a hero in her hometown.

  He could see the admiration on the faces of everyone inside the new gallery.

  Even kindly small-town people who depended on the reserve for their jobs took it personally when the rich jerk had pushed his way through, hurt one of their own. And the cold shoulders they could give to outsiders were the coldest. He should know. He could count on one hand the number of neighbors he’d managed to win over in his time in Sweetwater. Odella. Janet Abernathy. It was a short list.

  But here he was, about to wade into the waters.

  Because Winter had asked him to.

  Caleb shoved his hands in his jeans and wondered if he should have changed clothes. Again.

  He had dropped the jeans he’d worn to the construction site in the dirty clothes hamper Janet had disguised inside the upscale bathroom on his way to the shower. These jeans were black.

  “Dress jeans,” Caleb muttered. He should walk back to his SUV and pull out the trusty silk tie. Then, through the window, he caught sight of Ash Kingfisher. He was bent low to hear whatever it was Odella was saying. That was a conversation he could walk up to and expect a reasonable, lukewarm welcome, anyway.

  Odella didn’t do anything she didn’t want to. If he had nothing clever to contribute, she’d leave him standing alone in the center of a crowd.

  But if anyone should greet him warmly, it would be the guy whose job he’d saved.

  Except he was half a second from kissing the guy’s sister.

  Again.

  No, you aren’t. Seriously bad idea. Forget the hike and the dinner and the way she shines when she’s talking about anything she loves.

  “And stop staring in the window like the kid who didn’t get an invitation to the party. You got invited.” Caleb put his hand on the door and shoved it open. The familiar bells rang and a petite blonde he hadn’t been introduced to popped her head above the counter. She disappeared again before he could figure out whether to acknowledge her hiding place.

  “Callaway, haven’t seen you in some time.” Ash Kingfisher held out his hand, since Odella had moved on. Ash passed a cup of something punch-like, Caleb took it and lifted it to his dry mouth gratefully.

  The grimace must have given his feelings away. “Yeah, it’s been what? Three hours?”

  “Be careful, that stuff is sweet. That’s how you know Winter was in charge of the punch.” Ash shook his head. “Can’t explai
n it, but she’ll put in twice the sugar and half the salt of any recipe she attempts. What I’m saying is, don’t eat dinner at Winter’s house.”

  Since it was easy to imagine laughing over a takeout pizza, Caleb nodded and gave a strangled laugh. Between his brother and hers, he’d be better off hiding behind the counter with the blonde.

  “I promised Winter I’d stop by and view some artwork. With my checkbook. Here I am.” Caleb closed his eyes and wondered if he sounded as out of it as he felt. It was a reasonable explanation.

  If only Ash had asked for an explanation.

  Ash Kingfisher’s confused frown made perfect sense. “Uh-huh. I’m not sure I remember that.”

  Right. Caleb cleared his throat. “Glad you could stop by the site this morning. I’m pleased with the progress.”

  Ash nodded. “Me, too, and that you cleaned up the trash that was building last week.”

  “Sure.” Caleb gritted his teeth. The suggestion that he’d let something go he shouldn’t have rankled him. “I like sites to be neat.”

  “Sure.” Ash stared over the crowd. Caleb wondered if they were done with the conversation. Since Ash Kingfisher was the quiet type, he wouldn’t do much heavy lifting with small talk. Still, it was better to stand next to him to look like he had a friend. How sad.

  “But in a place like this, we can’t have that trash blowing away.” Ash turned to him. “We’ve got conservation efforts going on down at the lake, up at The Aerie. That plastic blows into the water, and the otters get ahold of it, and we have a problem.” Ash nodded. “See?”

  He did. And he appreciated the clarification. “Got it. We’re here to protect the land. Better, more consistent refuse cleanup will be in effect, Ranger Kingfisher.”