Cheryl Harper - Her Unexpected Hero

“Yeah, finding a place to put all my paintings in the tiny apartment upstairs was getting to me, too.” Leanne chuckled, the sound melodic and unexpected. Both of them had grown up in Sweetwater. They’d never been friends, but in high school, Winter heard plenty of stories about how wild Leanne was. More recently, the story of how she’d stolen Christina’s car and driven away in the middle of the night had made it all the way to Knoxville.

The rest of the story—how she’d done it to enter rehab to fight her addictions—hadn’t made it quite as fast, but the people of Sweetwater loved a good story. If it had a mostly happy ending, they’d tell it over and over.

Leanne was making her second chance work. She had a lot to be proud of.

“I’m not sure paintings like that should be stacked on the floor, but...” Winter moved over to the canvases leaning against the wall. The first one was a large piece showing The Aerie. The heavy forests of the reserve yielded to an open area that seemed almost barren compared to the shadowy forest, but the view down the valley was inspiring. It had been years since Winter had made the climb up herself.

Now that she had time on her hands, she should correct that.

“That’s one of my favorite places in the reserve. I have a few of them. It’s so easy to breathe at the top of the mountain.” Leanne cleared her throat. “We’ve got some jewelry pieces that should go in the window, and later today, the most talented stained glass artist is coming in.” Leanne nodded. “The collection will be strong—Janet has a good eye, even if she’s pushing for my stuff to be the centerpiece.”

Winter studied Leanne’s face. There would be zero chance Leanne would be comfortable as the center of attention. “Lucky for you, my father will steal any sort of spotlight in any room anywhere,” Winter said, laughing. “That has been true my whole life. I love him, but the guy is ten pounds of personality in a five-pound bag.”

“Your father is a blessing, for sure.” Leanne waved her toward the door. “Just like I know your help will be when we talk Janet into hiring you. I’ll be happy to have another set of hands here.”

As she smiled, Winter realized she’d missed this, the comfort that came from being proud of her family connections. When she’d moved to Knoxville, her plan had been to conquer the city first. She’d always intended to follow the steps all the way to Washington. With Whit Callaway, the boy she’d met in a college accounting class. Winter wasn’t the charming one; winning people over was his job. Instead, she was the strategic one. Her whole life, she’d been able to see several steps ahead.

Neither one of them had developed much love for debits or credits, but they’d instantly clicked by rolling their eyes at the professor’s snide comment about young people who refuse to choose practical careers.

She and Whit had been determined to be more than practical. They’d wanted to do something important.

Friendship was easy between them because Whit had agreed with every one of her ideals. They’d dreamed of the same thing: a career of public service. If she’d married him right out of college, that might still be the plan. Instead, she’d been determined to conquer Knoxville on her own through a job working for the reserve’s district office. She’d proven herself there and the wedding had been next. In Knoxville, everyone knew the Callaways. She was Whit Callaway’s fiancée. Here? Kingfisher was not a political name or a wealthy name, but it was respected.

“Can you help Leanne get this place set up?” Janet asked. “It might take all three of us, since we ain’t none of us done this before, but then I figure the three of us together could bring about world peace or put a person on Mars.” She shrugged. “Depending on our whims. Leanne does not have the confidence to sell her own work, but, Winter...? You could sell every one of those paintings she finishes with stories like that, no matter what price I talk her into, leaving me plenty of time to do other things.” Janet clapped her hands. “Everyone does their part. Everyone makes money. That’s my plan and I’m sticking to it.”

“I’ve got a job?” Winter asked, all the questions she’d carefully prepared about how many hours and when she might be eligible for a raise and whether or not there was a bonus for good sales tumbling around in her brain, and absolutely none of them coming out of her mouth.

“We’re focusing on local artists. Can’t imagine anyone else better prepared to tell and sell the history of Sweetwater, these mountains and the people who lived here than you, Miz Storytellin’ Kingfisher. I can’t wait to welcome the crowds we’ll draw. Minimum wage per hour. Thirty percent commission on anything you sell.” Janet’s sly smile was scary. “I expect you could be a real sales genius with the right incentives.”

Thirty percent? She’d been prepared to argue for fifteen. She’d never done this before, so Janet was taking a chance on her.

“That’s acceptable, although at the end of three months, I’d like an opportunity to sit down with you to discuss growth potential.” There. That sounded as though she knew her own value and Janet would be a fool to argue.

Janet’s amused chuckle was disconcerting, but she offered her hand for a shake. “Soon as you’re ready to move out of Mama and Daddy’s house, you let me know. I’m in between renos right now, but I’ve got my eye on a cabin in desperate need of a redesign. Rent would be cheap.” She shrugged. “If you do as well as we both expect, could be we’d need to expand our horizons, though. This month and next might be slow, but once summer rolls in, I expect we’ll all enjoy an income boost.”

Winter wanted to dance in place, but she would keep her feelings under wraps. “How soon do you want to open?” Crossing her fingers would reveal too much, but Winter couldn’t help sending positive energy out into the universe. Please let it be soon. Please let it be soon .

Janet shook her finger at Winter. “I like you Kingfishers. Your brother has always been one of them enigmas, but my boy Sam admires him, and that’s good enough for me. Your daddy? He’s charm personified, and your mama...” Janet stared out at the street for a second. “Gotta appreciate a woman who holds her ground. Plus, she’s got good instincts. That night out at the reserve’s ranger station open house, we talked about the skeeves and how that Callaway boy had always given ’em to her. She was pure joy when you pushed him in the water. In my book, the Kingfishers are quality people. Untangling yourself from the Callaways’ll take some time, but you let me know how I can help.” Janet clasped her hands in front of her. “Get to work right now if you’d like. Got a carpenter coming to put up some shelves and a party planned in two weeks. Let’s say twenty hours a week for now. I’d suggest you ladies get a move on getting us ready to open.”

“I will.” Winter smiled serenely, but inside her head a loud parade had formed because she’d be working again.

Janet tapped the Choose Duncan Again button that Winter had been faithfully wearing. “Lose this. Say what you want, but no wearing politics while you’re working here, especially not that guy. I still work at the school three mornings a week and the teachers would never let me hear the end of it.”

The celebratory parade ended with a sad trombone. The button was Winter’s single, constant, pitiful effort at impeding Whit Callaway, Jr. Twenty hours a week. She could take off the button for twenty hours a week and a paycheck. That meant Winter had to find something more effective.

Janet glanced at her watch. “If you want to make yourself scarce, I’ll understand, but I got an important client coming. Regina, my business partner and best pal, usually negotiates all the contracts, but she’s over in Cherokee doing some gallery scouting. Woman’s a pure genius for scouting, I tell you. Got a line on a computer system that’ll make tracking our inventory and sales a snap.” The musical bells rang and Janet turned. “Just one second, Mr. Callaway. I’m finishing up some business.”