Ruth Jean Dale - Something About Ewe

In each case, she’d won. But in neither case had she gone up against Sylvia Dalton, who was at least as stubborn, if not more.

Thalia disliked the prospect of bloodshed. “I hope you don’t intend to get out there all alone and stand in front of a bulldozer or anything,” she said anxiously.

Lorraine laughed. “Heavens, no. As it happens, the entire city agrees with me. We’re fully prepared to do whatever it takes to block this monstrosity, but there’s no need for you to worry about it. What do you care if Sylvia’s on her high horse?”

Yes, indeed. Sylvia was Luke’s problem, after all, so Thalia just shrugged.

Her mother gave her a knowing glance. “Unless you don’t want Luke all stressed-out.”

“Luke is not my concern.”

“I’m not so sure about that. The way he was looking at you—”

“Stop, Mother. To Luke I’m just John’s annoying little sister.” Time to change the subject. “Where are the hamburger buns? That sloppy joe looks ready to me.”

Lorraine laughed heartily. “This isn’t sloppy joe, it’s spaghetti sauce. But you can pull out a package of pasta from that cupboard over there, and then set the table. After we eat, I want to take you on a tour of the town and point out all the awful things growth has done.”

And so she did.

THALIA WENT TO EMILY the next day for the straight scoop about Shangri-la one and two. “Read all about it.” Emily handed over the local newspaper, the Shepherd’s Pass Review. Between customers, she added her interpretation.

“The Daltons own the land, but the project is the brainchild of a Texas developer named Joe John Jeff Jordan, called Four-Jay by all,” she said. “He came in here and charmed everybody’s socks off, got the approvals he needed and went to work before anyone really knew what was going on.”

“That’s pretty much what Mother and the newspaper say,” Thalia mused. “Does that mean the rest of what she said is also true—that everyone in town is against the next phase of the project?”

“Hardly!” Emily laughed. “I’d say the town is split right down the middle. There’s stiff resistance, led by your mother, and equally stiff support, led by Four-Jay and Mrs. Dalton and Michael Forbes—you remember Mike, I’m sure. He graduated with your brother and Luke. He’s a real hotshot attorney now.”

“I remember him vaguely.”

“If you’d like to see them all in action, there’s a community meeting set for Wednesday night at seven at city hall. Nothing will be decided, but it would help you get up to speed on the subject.” Emily laughed. “That is, if you want to get up to speed.”

Thalia grimaced. “Not really, but maybe I’d better since Mother’s leading the charge.” She cocked her head. “How about you, Emily? How do you stand on all this?”

“I can see both sides,” Emily admitted. “I do think the houses are quite nice, and I understand the next phase will be even nicer—and more expensive. On the other hand, I hate to see things change in our little hometown.” She sighed. “It’s a puzzlement.”

AND SO IT CERTAINLY SEEMED as Thalia made the rounds renewing old acquaintances. Emily was right—sentiment appeared to be very evenly split. She wondered how Luke felt about it, then realized he would surely back his mother. The Daltons, after all, stood to make a great deal of money from this project…not that they needed it. One of the pioneer families of Shepherd’s Pass, they were also the wealthiest.

Luke called Thalia Monday night and asked her out to a movie; she turned him down. He called her again Tuesday morning and asked her to lunch; again she turned him down, saying she’d be filling in at her mother’s flower shop and couldn’t count on getting away for lunch at any particular time.

Still, she was less than surprised when he dropped by at noon with a bag full of sandwiches from the Paper Sack. Refusing to acknowledge the obvious, she gave him an impersonal smile, hands poised over the file drawer.

“May I help you?”

“You sure can.” He hit her with a winning smile. “You can help me eat all this food.” He held up the bag.

“Thanks, but I’m working.”

Miss Pauline, manning the phones at the desk up front, tsked-tsked. “Now, Thalia, you have to eat you know.”

“Actually, I already have.” She’d gobbled a candy bar on the run an hour ago but saw no need to go into detail. “Sorry Luke, but I’ve got to make deliveries this afternoon. Mother’s finishing up the orders now and I’ll be leaving in just a few minutes.”

He sighed with exaggerated disappointment. “Okay, if that’s how it is. I’ll just take one of these sandwiches and leave the rest, in case Miss Pauline or your mom’s hungry.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“I know.” He reached inside the big bag and pulled out a foam container. “You seem to be keeping busy day and night.”

She knew he was thinking about her various rejections, and simply shrugged.

“Any chance you’ll be going to the Shangri-la meeting Wednesday evening?” He opened the foam box and hauled out half of an enormous sandwich.

“I haven’t decided,” she said noncommittally, although she had. She must support her mother. Lorraine had asked her daughter to go not a half hour earlier and that clinched it. “How about you?”

“Same.” He opened the sandwich bag and looked inside. “How’s Reckless?”

“Same. We haven’t forgotten what you said. We’ll bring him in first chance we get.”

“Good.” Of Miss Pauline he inquired, “How about Gertrude? Is she doing okay?”

“Oh, yes, Doctor. She’s her old self again. I can’t thank you enough for what you did for her.”

“Just doin’ my job, ma’am,” he said with false modesty and a lot of good humor. “Guess if I can’t talk either of you lovely ladies into dining with me, I might as well run along.”

“Why, I’ll be glad to dine with you,” Miss Pauline said. “Pull up that chair and make yourself comfortable, Lucas. That way I can answer the phone and still—”

The bell behind the counter tinkled. Thalia, who’d almost finished the filing, straightened. “That’s Mother,” she announced. “The order’s ready. If you’ll both excuse me—”

She wasn’t even sure they heard as they busily examined the contents of the bag for the tuna salad Luke was sure he’d ordered.

LUKE FINISHED his second sandwich and patted his stomach. “I can’t eat another bite,” he declared. He reconsidered and added, “Well, maybe a brownie.” He fished out a large wrapped square from the bottom of a bag now containing mostly discarded paper and boxes.

Miss Pauline smiled. “That was quite a nice break in my routine,” she said. “Do drop by anytime you like, Lucas.”

“I’ll do that.” He gave her a warm smile and rose. “I’ve got to get back to work now. Doc Miller’s got late lunch.”

“Of course. You run along.” She patted daintily at her lips with a paper napkin. “And Lucas…”

He paused with his hand on the glass door. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Thalia promised her mother she’d attend that meeting tomorrow night. I heard her. I don’t know why she said that to you.”

Sneaky, he thought. “A woman has a right to change her mind, I guess,” he said, opting for the popular view.

“This is not your typical woman.” She looked puzzled. “I’ve never known anyone who took everything so seriously. I’m certain that to her, a promise is a promise—and she promised her mother.” Miss Pauline’s smile was innocent. “I mention this in case you might have some particular interest.”

“I’m interested, all right. Very interested.” He waved and pushed the door open. “Thanks, Miss Pauline. I owe you one.”