Kate Welsh - For Jessie's Sake

“Thanks, Harley,” Colin said, looking unruffled and self-assured as he stepped to the microphone in spite of grumbling from some in the audience. “I’ve returned to develop the land that was the site of my family’s farm for generations.”

Abby couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Develop upstream from the town? Was Colin off his rocker? Was Harley?

“Torthúil Gardens will be a townhouse and condo community with a large segment along the river dedicated to over fifty-five adult living surrounded by condo-association-owned land,” Colin went on. “In this way we limit population increases of school-age children and the burden of increasing property taxes to fund new schools. I’m also considering a clubhouse, pool and exercise center that any resident of Hopetown can use with the purchase of an annual membership.”

The grumbling grew louder as Colin put up his hand, quieting everyone. “This is all in the proposal stages. I should be ready with detailed drawings and plans within a few weeks.”

Then Harley spoke. “I’m proud to have secured the financing Colin needs for this project. The tax revenue alone will do more for Hopetown than any federal grant.”

Abby popped up out of her seat. “And if you develop Torthúil the way it sounds like you plan to, you’ll need even bigger federal grants to clean up the mess the additional run-off will cause the town.” Shouts of agreement came from pockets around the room.

“Harley, how can you even consider this after all the flooding?” she demanded. “Oh, wait,” she continued, narrowing her eyes as she stared Bryant down. “Since you secured the financing, your bank’ll make a bundle on this, won’t it? But what’s the tax base going to look like if there’s no town left, Harley?”

She turned toward the zoning board. Her family had tangled with most of them before. “I beg all of you to remember that this town is about more than tax revenue. It’s our duty as Hopetown citizens to guard our historical landmarks. I urge the committee to table this discussion for tonight and consider carefully any plans submitted.

“And I’d like to remind you all how hard Harley Bryant fought behind the scenes to keep my family from expanding our operation.” She knew he’d wanted them to fail so his bank would be free to foreclose and gain control of the winery. Unfortunately she had no proof. “I’d also like to remind you that because we sit so high, we have hundreds more feet of drainage under our complex than Torthúil. Plus, a very large percentage of the plateau where our facility sits was always planned as farmland and a nature preserve. The perk tests you all reviewed proved our use of the land has zero impact on the river.”

Abby finally took a chance and looked up at Colin. His jaw was rock hard, his eyes cold as he stared down at her. She glanced away and over to where the zoning board sat.

After a few moments’ deliberation, they approved only the proposed work on Colin’s farmhouse, tabling further discussion until the August meeting when his plans were called on to be ready for consideration. Colin had lost this round. And would lose the next, and the next, and the next if she had anything to say about it.

She’d fight the devil himself to save the town named for and founded by her ancestor Josiah Hopewell. Hopetown had been on the banks of the Delaware River since 1689, and no money-grubbing builder was going to help wipe it off the map.

Hopetown had been hit by three major floods in the past eighteen months, the runoff that endangered many homes and roads was caused by too much development in the entire watershed region. Colin’s plans would only increase the runoff just upstream, dangerously close to town.

The Hopewell name still meant something around there and she’d use every bit of influence it gave her. She’d beat Colin McCarthy and see his dreams crushed.

Just the way he’d crushed hers.

Chapter Five

Colin stood in the shadow of one of the big oaks that shaded the oldest section of Main Street, waiting for Abby to leave the meeting. He’d spent the past ten minutes trying once again to control his temper, which seemed to flare where she was concerned.

Earlier in the evening, when he’d run into her on the porch, he’d purposely brought up Tracy to see her reaction. Juliana Hopewell was right. Abby still deeply mourned his little sister.

Knowing that, he had to try to understand the past, so he’d called his mother. She’d confessed that his father had ordered Tracy to end her friendship with Abby. He’d told Tracy only that James Hopewell had threatened to ruin them financially if Abby had any contact with the McCarthys. He hadn’t told Tracy the whole truth because they’d decided that in the short term they wouldn’t tell any of the younger children what had happened. It had seemed unnecessary to risk upsetting them about the threat to their parents’ livelihood.

Now, though, Colin needed to understand what had happened. Now he knew why Tracy and Abby had ended their friendship. Abby hadn’t had a thing to do with Tracy’s death. Which left him with no reason to be angry—and a boatload of leftover hunger for her that he could do nothing about.

Because, in spite of any attraction she still felt for him, she had every reason to think he’d used her that night. And for some reason she seemed to hold him responsible for what had happened to Tracy, which made no sense at all. It had been Abby, young and upset though she had been, who’d caved in to her father’s demands and given away their secret.

Now she’d tried to torpedo his project, causing his anger to blaze anew. Once again the great and glorious Hopewell name alone was more important within the town than anything or anyone else.

Harley had made it plain that they needed this development to widen the town’s tax base. And the McCarthy family needed it too. Torthúil had begun failing about a year before Tracy’s death and that expense had nearly put them over the edge. It had been Liam McCarthy’s dream to preserve the farm for future generations—to sell Torthúil would have broken his father’s already wounded heart. But his daughter’s death had left him a nearly broken man. They’d sold off all the expensive farm machinery to pay off the banknote and moved to Florida to improve their health—and forget the past.

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