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Her Unexpected Hero--A Clean Romance Page 17
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Winter saw the news crew gathered around the door and realized they’d had more of an audience than she expected. Getting Bailey Garcia’s agreement not to run any footage of that conversation would be next to impossible, but she should give it a try. Nothing terrible had been said about either Kingfishers or Callaways, but all the heat would come down on Caleb.
And the whole night had been a reminder that he was dealing with fallout that he shouldn’t have to.
He was doing it for her.
Winter tugged his sleeve, gratified when he instantly turned toward her. “Come help me with something in the storage room.” She motioned with her head before turning, certain he’d follow.
Before they cleared the crowd, Bailey Garcia cupped her hands over her mouth. “Caleb, have you got a second? I’d love to get a quote.” The crowd silently parted and the red light on the camera glowed. Winter had the urge to stop this. Unplanned interviews always went terribly wrong, but Caleb was smart.
“Here you are again, Ms. Garcia, telling Sweetwater’s stories.” Caleb’s grin was handsome and slow, and it would convince any woman it was special and only for her. “I don’t see any purchases. Surely you can’t leave without making at least one.” He covered his heart with his hand. “There’s real talent here.”
Bailey Garcia held out a microphone. “Mr. Callaway, I’m surprised to find you out and about in the town of Sweetwater. I’ve heard from some of your cronies you weren’t too happy about this assignment.”
“If that’s true, I’d guess you heard it from someone I haven’t talked to in a while. All work and no play makes a man say dumb things. What’s not to love about this place? All I needed was a minute to appreciate it. Every visitor to the new lodge will find the same peace I have. This is important work and I’m happy to do it.”
Winter believed he meant every word. If he was lying, he was doing it very well.
The reporter raised her eyebrows. “So the Callaways and Kingfishers seem...close.”
This was the whole thrust of her questioning. Before Winter could step in to deflect, Caleb drawled, “Well, we have some common ground. Both families are proud of the Smoky Valley Nature Reserve.”
That was a good answer.
“What about Winter telling me Whit’s new girlfriend, Candace Hawthorne, was nothing more than a political stunt?” Bailey asked. “That sound like bygones are bygones to you?”
The urge to protest was strong, but Caleb stepped up again. “Honestly, after the way she told my brother the engagement was off, complete with a big splash of water on a cold night, I’ll call that progress.” He held out both hands. “Please, tour the gallery. Find something you love. You’ll be getting a press release about upcoming media days where we will make the lodge building site open to the media and we’ll answer all your questions about the project there.”
Caleb turned his back and Winter had to admit it was a strong message. There was no way the delicate reporter was going to budge him from his spot. Winter was relieved until Bailey Garcia asked, “One last question. Are all the Callaways comfortable with how close Winter is with the governor?” Bailey smiled brightly. “The footage of her leaving the capitol a little over a week ago impressed me. She almost looked like a woman with the inside track to Richard Duncan.”
Before Caleb could answer, Winter stepped forward. “Call me tomorrow, Bailey. I’ll be happy to explain why the governor and I were discussing his education platform. It’s not right for Tennessee, and I have high hopes the conversation might have swayed his thinking.”
For a split second, she and Bailey were frozen in the center of the crowd. Was the reporter going to accept that? The news crew left while Winter was wracking her brain to come up with a way to smooth things over. Nothing came to mind, so whatever story broke, Winter would find a way to spin it. That was what she did and she was good at it.
If it was about a relationship between her and Caleb Callaway...
Well, she wasn’t sure what she’d do, except hold on for another wild ride.
When the conversation in the room resumed, thanks to her father’s loud question about who wanted to hear a story, Winter towed Caleb into the storage room and closed the door.
“It was a job interview. I got the offer. I didn’t take it because Richard Duncan is nothing but a cautionary tale of how politics have gone badly wrong because of some. Believe me or don’t, that’s what happened.” Winter crossed her arms tightly in front of her. “That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about, though.”
Caleb studied her face. “It was before the truce, right? Water under the bridge. What did you want to say?” His eyes weren’t the clear green she expected when he was happy, but he seemed to be giving her the benefit of the doubt.
“Thank you.” She shrugged. “That’s it. That’s as far as I thought it through. Thank you for helping me when you didn’t have to and for coming to Sweetwater to build this lodge that will mean so much and for being patient with my hurt and anger and for coming tonight to support this gallery and town and for answering Bailey Garcia with a grace she probably wasn’t expecting and I didn’t deserve and for...everything. Thank you. I’ve been carrying around this guilt for dragging you into this, and...” She stuttered to a stop and smiled. “I’m glad you’re here. That’s all.”
Caleb’s lips twitched as he straightened. “That’s a lot.”
Winter nodded. “Oh, and one more thing...” Before she lost her nerve, she stretched up to press a kiss against his lips. The feel of his shoulders under her hands and the grip of his fingers on her hips were more than she imagined, so sweet. Right. As if she’d found the place she belonged.
When she stepped back, his eyes opened slowly. “You’re welcome.”
Winter laughed.
“I don’t know what else to say. My brain is stuck in a celebration loop.” Caleb pulled her tight against his chest.
“Then it’s a good time to go shopping. Buy some art. Make sure you tell Janet that any commission goes to me. I’ve got to prove my worth here or I’ll be twice unemployed.” Winter grinned up at him, completely unconcerned about what came next for her.
For tonight, there was Sweetwater and her family and her friends and this gallery.
All her problems could wait until the sun came up again.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
AT SOME POINT, the half smile that had been appearing now and then, ever since the gallery opening, would stop surprising him. Enthusiasm for the day made it easy to jump out of bed Monday morning before the sun came up. He drove into town to make his now-usual stop to see Odella. The first warning he had that something had changed was her solemn expression.
“Mornin’, Caleb,” she said as she handed him his two-slice to-go bag. “Sure was surprised to hear the news last night. Hope your mama has some good doctors. Nowadays, medicine works wonders, I hear.”
Caleb slowly took the cup of coffee and slid a twenty across the counter. Since he had no idea what Odella knew or didn’t know, he murmured, “Thanks, Odella, keep the change.” He turned to leave and noticed everyone in the coffee shop watching him. He’d adjusted to being the center of attention, but there was something different about these stares. Instead of curious or suspicious, the expressions were somber, concerned.
When he made it back to the truck, his phone rang. “Hello?”
“Guess you heard the news. Headlines in at least four different newspapers about your mother’s illness.” Senior’s voice was gravelly, as if he’d been talking for too long already and was running out of energy. “She’s not doing well today. You need to come home. Get someone out at the site up to speed and come to Knoxville. We need to make some plans.”
Caleb had too many questions to ask and not enough time. “Fine. Let me talk to Carlos, make sure he’s got the work orders straight, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Caleb coughed. �
�How bad is it?”
The tense pause had him worried, but Senior said, “It’s nothing we can’t handle, son. Come home.”
Caleb ended the call and rested his head for a second. Both crews were going to be working on the lodge, completing the framing for interior walls and running wiring and plumbing as each section was completed. It was a terrible day to miss because all the moving pieces had to come together. That was Caleb’s talent.
Senior never skipped work. To call Caleb home meant he considered the situation there to be critical.
And then Caleb realized how the story must have gotten out.
Winter and Bailey Garcia and all those phone calls.
The interview that Caleb missed while he was chatting up Ash and Leanne Hendrix.
He’d assumed he and Winter had reached an agreement, but obviously he’d been wrong.
Winter had been biding her time to use her knowledge for her own benefit.
He didn’t have time to confront her, but her old station wagon was parked in front of Sweetwater Souvenir. Before he knew what he was doing, Caleb was out of the truck and stalking across the street. When he nearly flattened his nose on the glass because the locked door didn’t swing open, he forced himself to stop.
“Take a minute. No one should be surprised here. She’s been pushing all along.” Caleb braced his hands on his hips and studied the cracks on the sidewalk in front of the large plate-glass window.
Then the bells inside the shop rang. The door opened and Winter Kingfisher was framed in the doorway, as pretty and everything as she had been every single time he’d faced off against her.
Except this time, she’d hurt him in the only way that remained.
“What did you do?” he asked.
Her eyebrows shot up, the surprise almost believable. “What do you mean?”
“How could you have leaked this story of my mother’s illness to your friends in the media?” He squeezed his eyes shut as something clenched hard in his chest. “You and I understood each other.”
Anger, he could have handled. If she’d come back at him, eyes blazing and anger on her lips, he would have been fine. Instead, she wrapped her hand around his arm and squeezed. “I didn’t. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t hurt your mother. She’s always been kind to me. Tell me what’s going on, Caleb.”
“You don’t know?” He huffed out a breath. “How is it that connected Winter Kingfisher, the one who knows all the people there are to know to help the reserve, is out of the news loop?”
She held out both hands. “I’ve stopped scouring the news sites all day long for any mention of Whit Callaway to get over this. That’s how I don’t know what’s going on. It’s also how I’m moving on with my life, and for a minute there, I was happy to be doing so in a place where my path crossed yours, but I’m starting to have my doubts.” Winter propped her hands on her hips. “What is your problem this morning, Caleb Callaway? You went from kiss to kill awful quick.”
Caleb stepped back, unprepared for her to turn and go on the offense.
“It was one phone call. That’s all it took. This morning on the drive in, I had a stupid smile on my face thinking how I might set up some run-in with Winter Kingfisher.” Caleb pointed at Smoky Joe’s. “Then my father called me home. Because the news of my mother’s illness is hitting the front pages. She’s upset. And this lodge, the one I’ve been killing myself to get built at his direction, is suddenly less important. If you don’t understand what that means by now...” Caleb stopped. He couldn’t put it into words.
Winter ducked her head. “Okay. I get you’re mad and upset, but this is not me, Caleb. I didn’t. I wouldn’t. Why would I hurt her that way? Besides, I made you a promise that I was done coming after Whit. I trusted you when you gave me your word. You can’t do the same for me?”
He wanted to, but it was impossible to forget how fiery she’d been the first time she’d stormed his office or how she’d talked about how Whit had let her down. Then there was her meeting with Richard Duncan. “What if it was the only way to get your career on track?” Caleb braced himself. He didn’t want to go there, but he needed the truth. “Did you trade my mother’s secret to get that job offer from the governor, Winter?”
Her jaw dropped. “I met with him the day before you told me about Marjorie’s diagnosis, not after. And are you saying there’s no possible way I could get it otherwise? I mean, my education, graduating at the top of the class and my experience in handling all the communication needs for the reserve, or even my ability to move inside all kinds of crowds along with his number one challenger. None of that would work, but the ability to whisper about your mother’s diagnosis will open those doors right up.” Her lips were so tight that her smile was almost a threat.
“It wouldn’t be the first time you let a whispered secret do your dirty work for you.” Her gasp almost cut him off at the knees. He was mad enough to fight dirty, so he should go. Leave before he did something he’d regret forever. “I’ve got to get to Knoxville.” Why wasn’t it easier to leave her?
Because this was all wrong between them, but he couldn’t spend the time to make it right.
“Richard Duncan is every bit the kind of man you think he is. I have no doubt he’d love inside dirt, Caleb, but I’m not who you think I am.” Winter had followed him to the curb. She wasn’t yelling but her voice carried. The coffee-shop crowd was glued to the window. “The next time you see me, you’re going to apologize.”
The hurt over her betrayal was too much. Time. Distance. Room to cool off. That’s what he needed.
Caleb hustled to his truck and sped out to the job site, while he evaluated his choices on who to leave in charge. Ken Lowell had proven ineffective against Bailey Garcia, but surely he could handle twenty-four hours in charge. Reporters would likely wait for the media day to descend on the work site.
The media day.
The one Winter Kingfisher and her brother were planning.
Was that going to be a disaster, too?
Caleb was exhausted by worry when he got out of his truck. Both crews were working on the lodge in an effort to complete all the framing so the electrical and plumbing guys could start. By the time he had reporters at his site, he wanted people to be shocked at what he’d accomplished.
He wanted both Whitney Callaways to be impressed.
Caleb called loud enough that both Carlos and Ken heard and trotted over. He studied them. “I’ve got to go to Knoxville. Personal reason. I hope to be back tomorrow. Which one of you can do the job better than I can?” He’d never believe the answer, but the confidence to tackle the job was all he had to go on.
Carlos kicked a rock as he considered the question. “Not sure anyone can do it better, boss, but I’ll keep us going until you get back.” He met Caleb’s stare head-on. “Scratch that. We will. It’ll take us both. He’ll focus on the trades. I’ll make sure framing stays on schedule.”
Ken nodded. “We got it, boss.”
It was better than any solution Caleb had devised so he held out his hand. When they each shook it, he turned to go. “Call me if a crisis comes up.”
They both waved and he was soon bumping back down the gravel access road to the pavement. As soon as all four tires were on asphalt, he hit the gas. On a normal, sunny day, the trip into Knoxville was an easy thirty minutes. He’d cross his fingers and hope all the law-enforcement rangers and state police were otherwise engaged.
Twenty minutes was his goal, and the work truck shuddered to a stop three minutes over that.
In a second, Caleb was knocking on the front door, hoping his mother might open it, her normal smile on her face. Instead, a maid he didn’t recognize answered. “Yes, sir? How may I help you?”
The urge to move her out of the way with a firm arm was strong, but Caleb gripped his manners tightly. “I’m Caleb Callaway, here to see my parents.”
/> Instead of hurrying him on his way, she dipped her head. Her lack of urgency... Was it a sign that things were not as grim as he’d feared? “Of course, sir. I’m Patrice, your mother’s new nurse. They’re in the library. Would you like me to show you the way?”
Caleb paused midstep to study her face. Was she joking? “Uh, no, I know the way.” Her serene acknowledgment had him shaking his head as he trotted down the hall. Half a second before he shoved the door open, he noticed the clumps of dirt falling off his boots with every step. His mother would not like that.
Then the door was open. Senior and his mother were sitting on the couch, which had been moved to take full advantage of the sunshine pouring through one of the windows.
And Whit was nowhere in sight.
“Cal, come in.” Senior didn’t get up from his spot on the couch but pointed at the seat next to it. His mother straightened from leaning against his shoulder and patted the arm of the chair. From Caleb’s spot in the doorway, he couldn’t see any distress on her face. Instead, she seemed...happy. Truly content.
“What’s going on? I broke speed laws and good judgment to shave seven minutes off the drive because you had me scared.” Caleb dropped down in the leather armchair and tried to be grateful none of the dire possibilities he’d imagined were playing out in real time. “I left your precious lodge in the hands of foremen I’m not sure should be allowed to handle power tools.” Not true but it fit his black mood. He deserved some answers. “Instead of waiting on Whit to appear, tell me what’s going on right now.”
“I told you, you should have explained on the phone call,” his mother drawled and narrowed her eyes at her husband. “What if he’d been hurt because of the rush?”
Senior cleared his throat. “He wasn’t. You know he doesn’t listen under normal circumstances.”