Glynna Kaye - A Canyon Springs Courtship

It was bound to happen, though, this running into Macy. He’d known she was expected, and in a town with a population of just under three thousand, he wouldn’t have been able to avoid her forever. But on her first day of a monthlong assignment while he was dining with a client? He hadn’t been ready for that.

He should have had the foresight to contact Macy in private before her arrival. Truth be told, he hadn’t been thinking proactively, only hoped she’d get in and out of town before she even knew he called Canyon Springs home.

So much for that strategy.

Jake climbed into his vehicle and glanced back at the two-story log cabin lodge. Macy, chin lifted obstinately, still stood on the porch, his jacket folded primly in her crossed arms. He had to hand it to her for not turning on a dainty heel and marching back into the building after he’d almost strong-armed her from it. But then, she always had gumption.

Memory flashed to the day they’d first met. She’d stood almost exactly like that at a Missouri estate sale, the spark in her beautiful eyes daring him to outbid her. Even though he hadn’t cared about the chair, he’d dragged the bidding out as long as he could, wanting to keep her attention on him A practicing attorney’s funds trumped the ponytailed undergrad’s budget. But when immediately afterward he’d offered to sell the antique office chair to her for a dollar, she’d given him a sassy grin and said she wasn’t interested in the chair...just the bidder.

Pushing the memory away, he grabbed the leather briefcase and loose papers from the passenger side bucket seat and tossed them in the back, then started the SUV. With the windshield wipers in motion, he glanced again in Macy’s direction.

“Lord,” he muttered under his breath. “What are You thinking bringing her here?”

Sitting in the high-backed booth directly behind her a short while ago, their backs to each other, he’d recognized her voice before he’d seen her. When his client departed he remained frozen in place, lingering to listen to her interactions with those around her. As a professional blogger with the popular site Hometowns With Heart, Macy had an uncanny knack for ferreting out tasty personal tidbits to liven up her posts. She had put those skills to good use today. But this was his town. His people. He wouldn’t allow her to take advantage of them for the sake of boosting her blog’s popularity.

“Give me the right words. I don’t want to start a war.”

When he pulled the SUV to a stop in front of the lodge, Macy stepped forward as if impervious to the snow and whipping wind. Once inside, she shut the door, laid her purse on her lap and fastened her seat belt. Then she carefully placed his unused jacket on the console between them.

Still stubborn.

He bumped up the heat a notch, knowing she’d never ask him to, then drove toward the parking lot’s exit and down the wet, hard-topped street. Casey Lake seemed a suitable destination. Or he’d drive clear to Albuquerque if that’s what it took to make the situation clear to her.

But why’d she have to smell so good? Fresh. Citrusy. Just as he remembered.

“So what’s on your mind, Jake?”

He remembered that, as well. Even at twenty-two she’d been direct. Confident. Not easily cowed. Not that he wanted to intimidate her now, just get her to understand—and agree—that breaking confidences shared by community residents was outside the boundaries of her invitation to feature Canyon Springs in her blog.

A quick glance in her direction confirmed that the initial signs of nervousness when he’d caught her off guard had vanished. Her countenance, even lovelier than it had been years ago, remained unruffled. Reminding himself not to get distracted, he tightened his hands on the steering wheel.

“I managed to keep out of it when your waitress related the story of her courtship. It might not be something her husband would want broadcast, but it’s nothing the town doesn’t already know.”

Macy shifted in her seat, but didn’t interrupt.

“And Reuben Falkner,” he continued as they passed by towering ponderosa pines dusted with snow, “he can be a cantankerous old guy, so as far as I’m concerned, he’s on his own. But when sweet, notoriously naive Chloe Bancroft started to shoot off her mouth about her equally sweet and notoriously naive stepmother, well—”

Macy gave a soft gasp.

“Are you suggesting I set her up to disclose private family matters to share in my blog?”

“You led her down a breadcrumb-strewn path,” he said, keeping his tone firm. “Skillfully, I might add. You haven’t lost your touch.”

Her lips tightened. “I never set you up, Jake.”

Still sticking to that lame story, was she?

“Ah, Macy...” He shook his head, unable to resist a bitter smile. “A song so sweet each time I hear it played—but nevertheless no more convincing today than it was years ago.”

She pressed her now ramrod-straight back against the leather seat and stared out the side window. “Then take me back to Kit’s Lodge, please. I have nothing more to say to you.”

“Good.” He nodded agreeably. “Then I can talk and you can listen.”

He turned the SUV onto the highway and pressed his foot on the accelerator. “I’ve been reading your blog since last November, ever since the city council and chamber of commerce first decided to storm the gates for inclusion.”

She continued to gaze out the window, refusing to acknowledge his comment, so he continued. “It’s well done. Entertaining. I can see why it’s become popular.”

Only the blast of the heater fan and the rhythmic squeak of windshield wipers slapping away the lightly falling snow filled the silence that followed his words.

“But...after reviewing years of archived posts, it became clear that the content, the tone, has changed over time. It’s become bolder. More provocative. Tackling issues at a deeper level. If that’s what it takes to drive more traffic to your site then that’s your business. However—”

She whipped toward him, fire in her eyes. “However what?”

How well he remembered that look. That spunk. He’d been drawn to it. Delighted in it. But he’d learned his lesson the hard way.

“This is my home.” He spoke with deliberate restraint, recognizing he’d started off all wrong. He’d riled her up too much and now she was ready for a fight. But that wasn’t what he wanted. He needed her cooperation, not opposition. “The people you’re trying to extract stories from are my friends and neighbors.”

“And?”

“They aren’t accustomed to dealing with the media. For the most part they’re open, transparent and trusting. They don’t realize the blog’s tasty morsels of thinly veiled gossip and tongue-in-cheek humor might hurt or embarrass them and their loved ones when it’s their own personal lives spotlighted on the web.”

“So, what are you?” She seasoned her words with an unconvincing sweetness of tone. “The town’s official media cop?”

“I’m an elected official.” He reached out to cut back the heat. It was sweltering in here now—or was that just him getting hot under the collar? “A city councilman. I represent these people.”

He deliberately didn’t mention this was also a critical time for his own future. Even though he’d only been on the council a year, he hoped to be appointed to the vice mayor position left vacant last week when Parker Benedict stepped down for health reasons. He stood a chance, but he knew it was a long shot. He didn’t need a past shared with Macy Colston interfering with his prospects.

To his annoyance, her sudden lilting laugh unexpectedly warmed his heart, leaving him aching to hear more.

“Well, hello, Mr. Councilman.” She tilted her head, eyes now dancing. “You yourself said the city council decided to bring me here. Remember? You chose to compete with hundreds and hundreds of other small towns.”