C.C. Coburn - Colorado Christmas

Frank slowly contemplated his suggestion. No wonder a live wire like Edna Carmichael had slipped through the older man’s fingers all those years ago.

“If that’s what you figure, Lou and I’ll be gettin’ along.” He peeled off another two fifties and put them on the counter. “To pay for damages,” he explained, then shoved a wad of cash into the donation tin. “For the buildings. Maybe it’d be better if Edna opened that bank account herself.”

“To be fair and honest, it’ll need two signatories, and considering you’re our major donor so far, you should be one of them,” Will assured him, determined to get Frank and Mrs. C. back on friendlier terms. When he looked doubtful about agreeing to be a signatory, Will laid a comforting hand on the older man’s shoulder. “Let me talk to her. When she sees what a philanthropist you are, she’ll change her opinion of you.”

“A filla-what?”

“Philanthropist,” Will explained patiently. “It means an immensely generous person. Someone who’s public-spirited and charitable.”

Frank’s chest expanded with pride and he peeled off another wad of cash and stuck it in the tin. Large-denomination notes bulged out the top. Who knew owning a rock quarry was so profitable? Will decided the current trend of cladding new homes in local stone probably accounted for much of Frank’s fortune.

“I’m organizing a fundraising barbecue at the ranch for the weekend after next,” he said.

“It’s winter.”

“Exactly. Perfect time for a barbecue.” Will rubbed his stomach. “Man, I can taste that brisket right now.”

Frank was almost salivating. “Hey, great! D’you think your folks’ll mind?”

“Nah. You know how Mom loves entertaining. We can hold it in the machinery barn and have a dance afterward.” Will leaned toward Frank and whispered, “Maybe some slow dancing, Frank. I’m sure Mrs. C. would love to slow dance with you.”

The older man’s face lit up. “Anything you need, you call me.”

Will saw Frank and Louella out, picked up the donation tin and went through to Mrs. C.’s home at the rear of her shop to ask if he could move into her upstairs apartment that evening.

Meanwhile, he was late for walking Miss P.’s boys. He’d have to leave sweet-talking Mrs. C. on Frank’s behalf till later. Much later, because he needed to see the mayor before the close of business, then go out to the ranch and run his fundraising idea past his folks. He’d take his mom flowers.

WILL O’MALLEY! Becky fumed as she strode back to the courthouse. She’d popped out to see the florist to ask her to stop sending the flowers, but instead had found the man who’d been haunting her dreams sprawled on the floor covered in gerberas and with that blasted pig licking his grinning face! She was so furious she wanted to scream.

Why was it that everywhere she went in this town that man was there? And if she wasn’t running into him unexpectedly, she was being assailed by dozens of roses with handwritten cards signed “Your secret admirer.” As if she didn’t know who that was! She was tempted to throw them away, but that would be too wasteful. She simply couldn’t throw perfectly good flowers in the trash. No matter who’d sent them. So she’d filled the courthouse with them instead.

A small part of her enjoyed being wooed with flowers. It was a crying shame the man in question didn’t have a job she could respect.

In spite of his failings, something about Will O’Malley appealed to her on an elemental level and Becky was damned if she could figure out why.

Will paid the mayor a visit. Garrett Henderson had never liked Will and made it clear what he thought of his campaign to save the buildings.

He didn’t rise to shake Will’s proffered hand and things went downhill from there. He placed his size-seven Italian leather shoes on his expensive desk, leaned back in his chair and said, “When are you leaving town?”

Will mused that, for someone so large, the mayor had very small feet. “I’m not.”

Mayor Henderson pulled his feet from the desk and leaned forward menacingly. “Yeah, you are.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not gonna stay, O’Malley. Everyone around here knows you never finish anything.”

Will was unmoved. “Everyone?”

“Everyone who counts.”

Everyone being the owners of the development company…Will had done some research on the directors. None of them were registered as voters within the county or the town. Except the mayor. “Everyone who counts to me,” Will said, “is fully behind saving those buildings. I’ll stay as long as I’m needed. And then I might stay a bit longer. Maybe forever.”

The mayor put his feet back up on the desk, tapped his fingers together over the expanse of his belly and said, “I run this town, sonny. And don’t you forget it.”

“I think you’re forgetting you run this town along with the council. And you’ll only be doing it while you’re in office.”

“Which I will be for a very long time.”

“Elections are coming up next year. Maybe I’ll run against you.”

That had the mayor sitting up and dropping his feet back on the floor with a thud. “The hell you will!”

Will remained unmoved by the mayor’s threatening demeanor. “Keep giving your support to the development company and you’ll lose your job.”

“Not to you!”

Will shrugged and stood. He’d accomplished what he’d come for. He’d rattled the mayor, hinted he wasn’t invincible. Not that the man’s ego would concede that yet, but Will would let him sleep on it some. “Maybe. Or maybe to someone else. Come on out to the ranch next weekend and see how much support there is for saving those buildings.”

He gave the mayor a casual salute and stalked out, hoping the man would back down and he’d never have to run for his job.

AFTER THAT, WILL BORROWED Matt’s SUV, piled Miss P.’s dogs into it and took a ride out to the ranch.

While the dogs explored the house or relaxed on the comfortably worn furniture, Will told his parents about his plans for the fundraiser. Ever supportive, they made several helpful suggestions.

Luke was the fly in the ointment. He started off grumbling about too many people scaring his horses. Then he wanted to know where Will intended to put all the machinery from the barn he’d earmarked for dancing. “And where are you proposing to park all the cars?” Luke demanded. “Assuming anyone would be crazy enough to go to a barbecue in the middle of winter!”

For days, Will had rehearsed his answers to the various scenarios Luke would be likely to raise and object to. Knowing his brother well and practicing paid off when Luke finally relented—after Will promised that everything would be returned to its usual order the day after the barbecue.

Since his brother was in a receptive mood, Will broached the subject of Luke seeing his way clear to adopting Edward, claiming he’d be excellent for rounding up sheep.

“We don’t run sheep,” Luke said.

“Well, I know that! He’ll come in handy when you get some to keep him occupied.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “Wait a minute. You’re saying I should take this mutt off your hands—” he indicated Edward snoring at Will’s feet “—and in addition, I should buy some sheep to keep him company?”

“Only a couple hundred head. Just enough to make him feel useful. Edward would appreciate it.”

Luke shook his head. “What am I going to do with a brother like you?” he asked, grinning.

“Humor me?”

“I’ve been doing that all your life.” He reached down and scratched Edward behind the ears. The dog responded with a louder snore. “Give me a week or so to think on it. And if he gets up to any mischief, I’ll shoot him. Okay?”