Love Inspired May 2015 #2 (27 page)

Charlotte released an exaggerated sigh. “I'll have to do them myself. We want to give the Sunday school kids a couple of weeks to sign up sponsors for the walk. Again, sorry for interrupting. See you tomorrow at church.”

“Right.” Becca closed the door behind Charlotte and squeezed her eyes shut to dispel the feeling of impending doom.

“What?” Jared asked when Becca turned back toward him.

“Nothing.” She sat back down and cut through her pie with her fork.

“No, it's something.” His tone demanded an explanation.

She lowered her fork to the plate. “Charlotte is a gossip. She can't seem to help herself. By church time tomorrow, everyone in a twenty-mile radius will know you
secretly
had dinner with me at my house tonight while Brendon and Ari were in Connecticut with their father.”

“What do you mean secretly?”

“You didn't drive your truck or bike here. Or you hid your vehicle so no one would know you're here.” She gritted her teeth, remembering Ken's insinuations the day she and Jared had run into each other in the meadow. How Ken had accused Jared of concealing his vehicle so no one would know he was at her house when the kids were gone.

“We're two adults having dinner together. It's not like we're doing something illegal. If anyone says something, tell them I fixed your car and drove it over when I finished. Which I did. Not that it's anyone else's business.”

“With the public hearing on your project next week and my being on the Zoning Board, that explanation isn't any better, even though it's the truth.”

Jared rocked back in his chair. “Connor said the same thing about me fixing your car and that I needed to be up-front with you.”

“What do you mean?” Dread bulldozed over her. “Up-front about what?”

“Your car. There was a lot more wrong with it than the alternator.” He tapped the table with his fingertips. “I kind of fixed everything and bought four new all-weather tires.”

“And you weren't going to tell me?” She was too drained to express her full anger. “If that gets out, it's even worse. I'd have to recuse myself from the Zoning Board vote.”

“Would that be so bad?”

“Maybe not.” If she weren't in on the board vote, she wouldn't have to be evenhanded about the racetrack. She could look at the project as an individual citizen and consider only how it would affect her and her family. Not as a public official who might have to ignore her personal feelings for the benefit of the community. “But I'd still have to put up with the gossip.”

“Don't let what other people think or say bother you. I don't.” His body tightened. “But I've had more practice hardening myself against caring. You wouldn't believe some of the lies published about me.”

Looking back at the weeks after Matt had first left her and she'd found out she was expecting Ari, Becca wasn't so sure he'd had that much more practice. And he was talking about the media, people he didn't know.

“It's not other people. It's the Sheriff and Debbie. They'd like Matt and his new wife to have custody of the kids.” She loathed the way her voice cracked.

“They can't make that happen just because it's what they want.” He got up and came around the table to her. Taking her hand, he urged her to her feet.

“No, not even the Sheriff can force the Family Court. But he can make things hard on the kids and me.”

Jared wrapped his arms around her and she made no move to stop him.

“Matt might be able to get joint custody. He...I...” She didn't want to talk about her problems. She wanted one moment to forget them, to lean on someone else, on Jared. To feel his warmth and strength. “You don't want to hear about it.” When she'd collected herself, she slipped from his loose embrace. “I'd better drive you home.”

“You're in no shape to drive. I'll call Connor.”

“All right. And, to avoid any appearance of impropriety, I'll pay you back for the car repairs in cash.”

His lips thinned. He'd better not tell her again that he could afford to take care of it for her. She took care of herself and her own.

“Okay. Your choice.” His expression shouted anything but agreement.

She mustered what strength she had left. “One more thing. We need to avoid contact, at least until after the Zoning Board makes its decision on your project.” Longer than that if she knew what was good for her.

His eyes darkened with anger. Or was it disappointment?

She bit her lip. Any relationship with Jared, even friendship, had too many complications.

* * *

That was it? Nice knowing you, but I don't want to be seen with you.
Jared strode up Conifer Road toward the highway. No way could he stand still and wait for Connor. He slowed his pace as he got close to the intersection. Why should he expect any different? It didn't matter what he'd done with his life, in Paradox Lake he'd always be Jerry Donnelly's kid. And Becca Norton would always be one of the untouchables to him.

Beep!
Connor turned his car on to Conifer Road and stopped next to Jared, who yanked the passenger-side door open. “Did you think I wouldn't see you?

“I'm not going to even ask.” Connor did a U-turn and headed back home.

“Good.”

They rode in silence to the parsonage. Connor pulled into the garage, and Jared reached for the door handle as his brother turned off the car. Maybe he'd take his bike out and blow off some steam. “Thanks for the lift. I'll catch you later. I'm going to go for a ride.”

Connor looked out the garage door. “Those clouds are nasty looking.”

“I know what I'm doing, little brother.”

Connor mumbled what sounded like, “I hope so.”

He turned his back on Connor and the car and tramped across the garage to his bike. He was used to making decisions and acting on them. Since he'd come back, everyone seemed to have directions and second guesses for him. Jared fired up the bike and gunned the engine, letting the vibration ease his tension. As the engine wound down, Jared saw a flash of lightning, followed by an almost immediate crash of thunder. He cranked off the motor and swung off. One more corner heard from.

He swung open the door from the garage to the house. Resurrection Light was blaring from Connor's office, almost drowning out the sound of the house phone ringing. “Connor,” Jared shouted, figuring the call was for him. It stopped ringing as Jared picked up the receiver. He punched in the parsonage's phone number and voice mail code.

“You have one new message. Press One for new messages.” He hit One.

“First new message, received Saturday at nine-fifty-nine p.m. ‘Jared Donnelly, watch the channel 44 news tonight and see what people really think about your motocross racetrack.'”

“What's up?” Connor bounded down the stairs. “I was fine-tuning tomorrow's sermon.”

“The phone was ringing. I figured it was for you.”

“And it wasn't?”

“No, it was for me. Someone left a message telling me to watch the channel 44 news.”

“You going to?”

“Might as well. Want to join me?”

“Sure.”

Jared settled back in the recliner and turned on the TV.

“Now to our on-the-spot reporter Kelly Keene with a report filmed in Schroon Lake this afternoon.”

“Kelly Keene, talking to some of the participants in what appears to be a spontaneous protest against international motocross champion and Paradox Lake native, Jared Donnelly's plans to build a motocross racetrack on Conifer Road near Paradox Lake in the Town of Schroon.”

“Motocross school,” Jared automatically corrected.

The camera panned to twenty or more people walking up and down Route 9 carrying signs with an X-ed out picture of him crossing the finish line of his final race before he'd retired.

“Did you know anything about this?” He slammed the footrest of the chair down and paced the length of the room.

Connor frowned. “Like I wouldn't have told you? The reporter said spontaneous.”

“People just individually showed up at the same time with matching signs?”

Connor shushed him. “Sit down and listen. Maybe we'll find out.”

Since when had his baby brother become the one to keep him in check? He lowered himself back into the chair and focused on the TV.

The reporter tilted her microphone toward a man walking by with a sign. “Sir, can I ask you a few questions?” The man nodded. “What brought you out here today?”

“A friend called and said he was driving by and saw a woman here in front of the school with signs organizing the protest. I came right down. I've been looking for way to fight this thing. We don't need the kind of people a racetrack would draw, especially right near the Girl Scout camp.”

“Right, people like me,” Jared said. “He sounds just like Sheriff Norton. Norton probably set it all up before he took off for the weekend.”

“Jared,” Connor admonished. “You don't know that. A lot of people have questions about your project. That's what the public hearing Tuesday is for. To answer those questions.

He glared at Connor. “People with signs X-ing me out are not asking questions.”

“You're making it too personal.”

“It is personal. The project is my personal calling. It's my face X-ed out on those posters. You can't get more personal than that.” He clamped his mouth shut. He'd said too much.

Connor simply raised an eyebrow.

“Thank you, sir,” the TV reporter said before leaving him to talk briefly with a couple other protesters.

The camera faded to the newsroom. “That was Kelly Keene from Schroon Lake earlier this afternoon,” the news anchor said. “There will be a public hearing on Jared Donnelly's motocross track Tuesday night at seven at the Schroon Town Hall.”

Jared flicked off the TV. “I'm not the only one making it personal. It's not my track—now they have me saying it. My racing school,” he corrected himself. “It's for the kids and for the town. Not for me. I could build it anywhere. I wanted to build it here, where I started.”

Maybe he was crazy to think people would accept him enough to let him bring some good back to the place where his father had done so much harm, caused his family and others so much pain. The Donnelly name hadn't always been synonymous with loser. His father had done that, topping it off with his disappearance. He'd been last seen staggering out of a bar in Saranac Lake, leaving his old truck in the parking lot. Neither the police nor the private detective Jared had hired for his mother had found a trace of him after that. She'd been forced to have his father declared dead so she could sell the family home to buy a condo in the community where her sister lived.

Was he wrong to want to right things for Josh and Connor, for his mother if she ever wanted to come back, for himself?

Jared tossed the remote on the table. “You're the one person I know who might understand this. I want to give back some of my success, and nobody wants it.”

“Yeah, I can relate. But stay calm. Everyone isn't against you. You've got the support of Eli and Drew, the Hazards, Gram and Harry, GreenSpaces Engineering. That's some influential people.”

But that wasn't enough. He needed more.
Becca
, a voice in his head said, which was ridiculous. His project didn't need Becca's support. She was one vote on the Zoning Board. Nothing more. He needed the community to embrace his project. Or, remembering how Becca had felt in his arms, his inner voice asked,
Is it Becca's embrace you need?

He shut out the voice.

Chapter Eight

B
ecca would have thrown the cell phone across the room if she hadn't owed Jared so much for the car repairs and could afford to replace it. She calmed herself and reread the Sheriff's text.

I'm counting on you tonight.

Innocent enough taken out of context. Not so innocent given that it was Tuesday and Brendon and Ari were still in Connecticut with Matt, his wife and his parents.

The phone rang.
It had better not be him with more veiled threats.
She checked the caller ID and was relieved to see it was Emily.

“Hi.” She sat on the edge of her bed.

“Hey. Did you want to ride with us to the meeting? It's no problem for us to drop your kids off at the Nortons' if they're watching them there.”

“No.”

After a moment Emily said, “I'm confused. No, you don't want a ride? No, we wouldn't have to drop off the kids?”

“Oh, Emily.” She stopped herself.
No!
She needed to tell someone. “I'm so angry and disgusted and a little scared. The kids are still in Connecticut. Debbie called Sunday night when they should have already been back and said the kids were having such a good time that they were staying a few more days, maybe the whole week. Matt didn't even have the decency to call himself. And Debbie reminded me, coached by the Sheriff, I'm sure, that our custody agreement gives Matt the kids for a month every summer. He's never taken that time before.”

“Have you talked with the kids?”

“No, I haven't. Much as I disagreed about Brendon having a cell phone, I was glad he had it this weekend. Except, when I called it went directly to voice mail, and he hasn't answered any of my texts. Either he forgot his charger or his father or grandfather has turned it off.”

“Are we a little paranoid?”

“Probably. I just have a bad feeling.”

“That feeling didn't happen to start with Saturday dinner by any chance? Maybe the reason you didn't come to Sunday services?”

Becca groaned. “What did Charlotte say?” She'd gone to services at her parents' old church in Schroon Lake rather than at Hazardtown Community Church.

“Not too much, for Charlotte. She thinks you make a cute couple and said it's like
Romeo and Juliet
, with Jared's racing school and your family being set against it.”

“More than you know,” Becca said just out of Emily's hearing range.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing. I wish people wouldn't think of Ken and Debbie as my family. They don't like me. They don't think I'm a good mother, and they never thought I was good enough for Matt.”

“That's a laugh.”

“Emily!”

“It's true,” Emily said.

“Maybe, but it's not nice.”

“They aren't nice to you.”

She ignored Emily this time, talking almost to herself. “The only thing we shared was Matt. We have no common ground to help us get along now, not even the kids.” Becca stopped.

“Except—” Emily filled in “—your opposition to Jared's racing school.”

“I haven't said I flat out oppose it. I have questions.”

“You didn't get your answers when Jared met with you and Drew and Eli?”

“I got answers. I didn't like some of them. I'm trying to keep an open mind.”

Her phone dinged another text message from Ken. The third one this evening. She pressed her lips together.
And I'm trying not to throw my support behind Jared simply because Ken's pressuring me to vote against it.

“I want to know what other people think,” Becca said. “That's what tonight's public hearing is about, giving everyone a chance to voice their views to help the other board members and me make the right decision.”

“Sometimes the right thing is what
you
know is right for you, not what everyone else thinks is right.”

“I can't say my track record is so great in the what's-right-for-me division.”

“Becca.” Exasperation laced Emily's voice. “You're not the first woman who married the wrong man.”

Emily's words stung. Her friend didn't understand. She always tried, prayed to do the right thing, to make things right. And she usually succeeded, except for her marriage.

“Sorry for that,” Emily said. “But are you sure you're just being open-minded and not using Jared's proposal as a way to distance yourself from him? Maybe because you're attracted to him?”

“Absolutely, not.” What was with Emily that she kept pushing her at Jared? “I—”

“No, let me finish. Drew and Eli both work with kids, some of whom are in danger of getting offtrack—no pun intended. The kind of kids Jared wants to help. They don't agree with everything Jared has in his proposal, but they're behind the project. Drew told me you questioned the program starting with kids younger than middle school. You could support the project without letting Brendon participate if you think he's too young.”

Easy enough for Emily to say. She wasn't the single parent who would have to tell Brendon that, no, he couldn't learn to race dirt bikes from his idol, Jared. Becca flopped back on the bed. She was so tired of everything being a struggle. What had she been thinking when she'd agreed to serve on the Zoning Board?

“Mommy,” Emily's daughter called in the background. “Ryan hid my new Magic Markers Mrs. Cook gave me on the last day of school.”

“I'd better go referee. Did you want a ride tonight?”

“No, I'd better drive myself. The board may want to stay after the hearing to discuss what people have said.”

“Okay. Think about what I said. About Jared. And the racing school.”

The beep of another text from the Sheriff muffled Emily's goodbye.

As if she could stop thinking about either Jared
or
his racetrack.

* * *

Jared and his attorney pulled up to the Schroon Town Hall forty-five minutes before the public hearing was scheduled to begin. A New York State Police cruiser sat off to the side of a line of sign-carrying protesters marching single file across the front of the building. The town had brought in the big guns.

“Nice welcoming committee,” his attorney, Dan, said. “Looks like the same group I caught on the news the other night.”

“The Albany station played it, too?”

“I think one of the regional news syndicates picked it up. You're news, man.”

“Right. I've been news before. But usually good news.” He'd enjoyed the limelight the first few years after he'd started winning races. Then, it had gotten old fast. Now, he was having second thoughts about having given up his publicist when he'd retired from motocross. Or maybe he should have connected with Emily when he first arrived. Anything he did now would seem like a reaction rather than action.

“You're still good news,” Dan assured him before he dismissed the protesters. “What's twenty or thirty people?”

“More of the local population than you can imagine.” Jared scanned the parking lot behind them. Several more cars had pulled in while they were talking. He watched a man about his age or a little older pull open the sliding passenger side door of a minivan. More protest signs? He stilled when the man pulled out a ramp and a woman in a wheelchair powered down it. Liz Whittan, the girl—woman—his father had injured driving drunk the fall of Jared's freshman year in high school. Her appearance would dredge up bad memories about Dad and him among the people at the hearing. Why was he even trying?

“We should go in,” Dan said, his gaze following Jared's to Liz making her way across the parking lot.

Liz lifted her hand in a wave. “Jared. Jared Donnelly?”

“Someone you know?” Dan asked.

“Know of.” Liz had been three or four grades ahead of him at school. “Old family business. Go on in.”

Liz closed the distance between her van and Jared.

“As your attorney, I'll stay.”

“Whatever.” Maybe Dan was right to stay. He'd put his foot in his mouth in public before. His mind traveled back to his behavior in the months following his mentor's death. More times than he cared to remember.

“Jared, I thought it was you.” Liz looked up at him and his stomach knotted.

Had his opponents stooped this low, or was Liz a ready participant?

“Liz Whittan,” she said.

“I know who you are.” He fought to keep his voice modulated.

She smiled, and he braced himself for what he expected she would say.

“I saw you when we drove in. This is my husband, Mike.” She nodded at the man who had helped her out of the van. “I wanted to catch you before the hearing to tell you what a great idea I think your proposed project is.”

“You like it?” The invisible bands cutting off air to his lungs snapped.

“Yes. I teach with Eli and Becca, middle school math, and have already made a mental list of some students I'd encourage to participate. You have a lot of people behind you.”

Jared glanced at the protesters.

She waved them off. “Half of those people would be against their own mothers if they proposed anything new or different for the town. You have the support of people who could help you get your project off the ground.”

His attorney smiled as if he'd had a part in this. Or maybe it was just relief that he wasn't representing a losing cause.

Liz ticked off the people on his side. “Anne Hazard and GreenSpaces, all of the Hazards, I think, the town supervisor, Harry Stowe, almost every teacher I've talked to, my pastor, the local business association and the Zoning Board, including Becca Norton.”

“I'm not counting on Becca, not from what she's said to me.” It hurt to say it out loud.

Liz gave him a knowing smile. “I've known Becca for a long time, since she started teaching at Schroon Lake. Trust me. She likes the idea. She just doesn't know it yet.”

Jared wished he
could
trust her words.

Dan checked his watch. “We need to go in.”

Jared moved to the side to let Liz and her husband go ahead. The protesters divided to let them through and closed ranks as Jared and his attorney followed.

“Take your racetrack somewhere else,” the man closest to the door said.

“And yourself,” came a woman's voice to Jared's left.

The state police officer stepped out of his car. Jared tensed as the line separated to let him and Dan into the Town Hall. The uplift he'd gotten from Liz's encouragement had dissipated like smoke in the wind when the officer had opened the car door. While he appreciated the officer's help, he was used to fighting his own battles, winning on his own merit.

Just inside the door, a sheriff's deputy Jared didn't recognize stopped them. He pointed at the cardboard tube with the racing school plans Jared had in his hand.

“Sir, I'll need to see what's in that tube. No signage is allowed in the meeting.”

“This is Jared Donnelly,” Dan said.

“I'll handle this,” Jared said, opening the tube and spreading out the sheets for the deputy to examine. He didn't need Dan stepping in for him any more than he'd needed the state police officer or anyone else.

* * *

A commotion from outside snapped Becca's and the other board members' attention to the doorway of the meeting room. Jared and his attorney entered and walked to the seats reserved for them in the front of the room. His mouth was set in a grim line that accented the planes of his face. He caught her staring and she looked past him to the room at large. With more than a half hour until the public hearing was scheduled to begin, it was already almost filled to capacity. She scanned the faces and saw many she recognized and a surprising number she didn't. For better or worse, Jared and his project had certainly activated the residents of Paradox Lake and the rest of the Town of Schroon.

She returned her gaze to Jared. He met it with a cool stare as he and his attorney walked past their seats to the dais. Her memory of Jared's expression when she'd said they needed to keep their distance and of his preferring to wait for Connor outside zipped down her spine in a virtual shudder. She'd watched from her window as he'd strode up the road out of sight. Even though she'd tossed and turned that night, every stray noise waking her up to thoughts about Jared, she still believed keeping her distance was the right decision.

“I have updated plans for you.” His voice cut through the buzz of the filled room. “They weren't ready until this afternoon. We were waiting for input from the Department of Transportation about the changes to the Route 9 access the GreenSpaces engineers are suggesting.” He unrolled a set of plans from the cardboard tube.

“Good,” Tom Hill said. “I've had a lot of questions about traffic on Route 9 and the possibility of a roundabout.”

Jared's expression hardened. “And you won't find DOT's answers here. They didn't get back to GreenSpaces. These plans show the access with and without a roundabout.”

“That's too bad,” Tom said. “I know the people out that way are concerned about crowds and traffic, particularly on race days.”

Tom glanced at her and back to Jared. “But I'm sure you know that.”

Jared frowned and Becca's cheeks heated. What was that supposed to mean? Tom or his wife, Karen, must have heard Charlotte talking about her and Jared having dinner together on Saturday. Her heart thudded. To clear up any questions about her having a conflict of interest, she should have talked with Tom about Jared fixing her car and dinner before tonight's meeting. Who was she trying to kid? She had a conflict of interest all right, but it had nothing to do with Jared's racetrack and the Zoning Board. On that, she was confident she could be impartial. Her conflict of interest was between what her heart seemed to want and what she knew was best for her and her children.

“We'd better take a look at these before the meeting starts, although I'm sure you and your attorney will be able to provide up-to-date answers to any traffic questions we can't answer.” Tom motioned Becca and the other board members to join him in a small side room.