Convincing the Rancher Page 8

  “Fine.” She had to remember that Samantha was married now. Her first loyalty was to Jack. Tess was glad that her friend was happily married, but sometimes she missed the days when it was just her, Samantha and Jenna against the world. “Forget I asked. It will all be fine, even if they know.”

  She stood, glancing over to the windows that looked across the hills and valleys rolling out below the house that Samantha had inherited.

  “I love my view,” Samantha said. “Isn’t it pretty?”

  “Well, you know me.” Tess sighed. “Give me the San Francisco skyline any day.” And suddenly she wanted, more than anything, to go home.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “HEY, THANKS FOR helping me fold these last night.” Slaid grabbed a pile of flyers and handed them to Devin. “Will you help me pass them out?”

  “Dad, that is so uncool.”

  “I’d say preventing this area from being covered in windmills is about as cool as it gets. C’mon, Dev. Just hand out the flyers to everyone you know. I’ll do the same, and between us we’ll get this done in a half hour.”

  “Okay,” Devin said. “But if I help with this, can we talk about raising my allowance?”

  “Ha-ha.” Slaid grinned at his son. “I’ve always loved your sense of humor.”

  “Dad, please?”

  “We’ll talk about what chores you want to take on to raise your allowance, sure. But I don’t think a few minutes of community service warrants a raise. Fair?”

  “Yeah. I guess so.”

  Slaid ignored the unenthusiastic tone in his son’s voice. He’d learned early on that one of the keys to successful parenting was to know what to react to, because with Devin there was usually a lot to choose from. “Meet back here around noon?”

  “Sure.” Devin wandered off in the direction of the food booths, probably looking for hot dogs and friends. Slaid shoved extra flyers into his back pocket and grabbed a stack to carry, then shut the door of his truck. He heard music—really good music. Someone must have a sound system at their booth.

  The Fall Harvest Festival lined Main Street and ran from one end of town to the other. Making his way slowly toward the music, Slaid passed out flyers. They were simple and informative, letting residents know about the proposed wind farm and inviting them to a meeting to learn more about putting solar panels on their homes. Pretty much everyone he ran into wanted to stop and talk and was willing to take a flyer, but he was surprised by how empty the fair seemed. Families with small children were at the arts and crafts booths and the pumpkin carving station, but even the food booths were sparsely populated.

  As he made his way down Main Street the music got louder. It was just his style, some insane combination of country, Texas blues and a few ripping rock and roll guitar solos. The louder the music got, the more people he saw. He was quickly running out of flyers. It seemed like most of the population of Benson had ended up at this end of the fair. And then he realized why.

  The raised stage shouldn’t be there. He was certain he’d never signed a permit for it. Nonetheless, it blocked the entire street, capped by a huge blue banner that read Danny Click and The Hell Yeahs, Brought to You by Renewable Reliance. On either side of the stage, a replica of a windmill rose, blades turning slowly.

  A lean, long-haired guitarist was fronting the band responsible for the awesome music. They were far more together and professional than any of the local groups scheduled to play that afternoon. A wooden floor had been laid down in front of the stage, and even at eleven in the morning it was packed with people dancing.

  But it wasn’t just that. One side of the stage was lined with food booths emblazoned with signs that said, Free Brunch, Brought to You by Renewable Reliance. A hissing sound had him looking more closely and he saw that one booth was actually an espresso bar. Another served a full hot breakfast and the third booth was loaded with delectable baked goods. A barbecue area was being set up next to the booths, complete with picnic tables topped in red-checked cloths.

  The other side of the stage was lined with information booths, decorated with catchy slogans like Wind Energy—The Power of the Future. People were walking away from those booths with handfuls of glossy flyers, booklets and even toy windmills for all the kids. Slaid glanced down at the black-and-white, photocopied flyer in his hand. It looked homegrown and pathetic.

  A flash of orange caught his eye. It was another banner, emblazoned with bold black letters that spelled out Solar Power—Not Such a Sunny Outlook. Underneath it stood Tess, smiling and nodding as she talked with one of the teachers from the local elementary school.

  As Slaid stared, a young woman he didn’t recognize approached him. She was very pretty, probably in her midtwenties, and she wore a tight blue T-shirt with the words Renewable Reliance, The Power to Change Lives written across the bust.

  “May I offer you some literature on the potential for wind energy in this area?” she asked politely, smiling sweetly.

  “No, thank you, I’m good,” Slaid answered, turning away and bumping right into Jed and Betty Watkins. His city council wingman and his wife had lattes in their hands and a plate filled with scones and croissants.

  “Slaid!” Jed said heartily. “Grab some breakfast and take a minute to enjoy this band. They’re something else.”

  Slaid glared at him and Betty spoke up. “I saw that look, Slaid Jacobs! We can enjoy this and still not support the windmills. It’s fun to dance first thing in the morning. You should try it! It’s such a great idea! You and the council should have thought of something like this.”

  “Well, even if we had, we wouldn’t have been able to fund it.”

  “Don’t be bitter,” Betty admonished. “Just go get some breakfast and enjoy yourself.”

  “The information booths are pretty good,” Jed added. “And I was a little concerned after talking to Tess. There’s a possibility that if we all get solar panels like we talked about, we’ll crash the grid.”

  “Can you imagine?” Betty asked. “We could blow up our own power system. I think we all need to think carefully before we make any decisions about solar.”

  The muscles in Slaid’s shoulders tightened, and his jaw ached. No way could he compete with the kind of money Renewable Reliance was throwing at this today. He couldn’t imagine how much it had cost to get this all done at the last minute. And how much time it would cost him to combat all the misinformation that would be out there by the end of the day.

  Betty and Jed said goodbye and went off to find a spot to eat their free breakfast. Slaid stood silently, feeling like an idiot with his simple flyer in his hands, staring at the band and figuring out what to do next. A hand clapped him on the shoulder, startling him. It was Jack, who moved to stand beside him. “Well, we knew Tess was great at what she did. But I think we might have underestimated her,” he said, a sheepish grin on his face.

  “How did she get this into the festival?” Slaid asked. “Who approved it?”

  “Samantha let her have the booths. She swears she had no idea Tess was bringing a band. Or that the whole thing would be so elaborate.”

  The lead guitarist—Slaid figured he must be Danny Click himself—was saying something to the audience. Suddenly he got them cheering. “Do we want clean energy?” he asked. A roar of “Hell yeah!” rose from the crowd in response. Slaid pulled one of his amateur flyers out of his back pocket and handed it to Jack. “I made a flyer,” he said.

  Jack let out a bark of derisive laughter. “Oh, man, we suck at this.”

  “Don’t I know it.” Slaid gestured around him helplessly. “I’m a cattle rancher. I know cows and a little bit about being mayor. I don’t know how to put together something like this.”

  “Maybe today we need to just sit back and observe Tess—learn at the feet of the master. Then we can figure out our next steps.”

  “Can Samantha help us?” Slaid asked. “She’s a public relations person, as well.”

  “I’ll ask her. But I think whatever she
does, she’d prefer to do it behind the scenes. She doesn’t want to lose her friendship with Tess.”

  “And Tess doesn’t want to lose her friendship with Samantha.” The low voice had them both turning and Slaid gaped. Tess had on jeans that accentuated her long, slim legs, and a retro, blue-checked shirt tied at the waist. She wore minimal makeup and looked as fresh and pretty as a 1950s housewife. “Can I interest you gentlemen in some literature explaining the benefits of wind energy?” She smiled engagingly and waggled a colorful flyer at him, holding it right at cleavage level.

  “No, thanks, I’m good,” Slaid answered shortly.

  “I’m gonna go look for Samantha,” Jack said, backing away at Slaid’s sharp tone. “Nice work here today, Tess.”

  Slaid continued staring at the band, and Tess turned to walk away. “Wait,” he called, and she stopped, turning to face him, one eyebrow raised in inquiry. “You said you wouldn’t bend the truth.”

  She took a step closer and brought her voice lower. “Are you accusing me of lying?”

  “Solar is going to crash the grid? C’mon, Tess, you know that’s just a rumor made up by power companies that want to keep the status quo.”

  Tess shook her head. “It’s not. The fact is, no one knows how many distributed generation assets the grid can handle.”

  “How many what?”

  “Slaid,” she said with mock patience. “If you’re going to push solar on this town, you’d better learn something about it. The term for solar panels on residences and businesses is distributed generation assets. You see, a wind farm provides one source of energy that feeds the grid. It’s basically like a clean-energy power plant. That’s what our power system, our grid, was designed for. Input from a few big power sources.”

  “I am aware of that,” Slaid said grimly. He didn’t appreciate feeling like a schoolboy around her, and he was getting schooled.

  “The grid wasn’t designed to receive energy from all over,” Tess went on, “which is what will happen if you have solar panels all over town. The grid wasn’t built to be bidirectional. No one knows if, at some point, the power from all the solar panels on peoples’ homes will crash the grid by sending so much energy back out into it.”

  He didn’t know what to say. She was right. He hadn’t done his homework, and evidently she had. He watched bemusedly as she turned away to hand out a few slick packets of information and encourage people to visit the various booths and exhibits. She’d kicked his butt today, and he didn’t know if he should be humiliated or awestruck. He felt a little of both. “You know this band is illegal. You have no permits. And I’m pretty sure they have their amps turned way past the decibel level allowed by city noise ordinances.”

  “Are you going to shut it down, Mr. Mayor?” Her slow smile went straight through him, leaving heat behind. “I don’t know politics well, but I do know that people are having a great time. It seems to me that shutting it down might not be the best political maneuver.”

  She was right, and it pissed him off. Her upper hand in this conversation was so solid, he couldn’t pry it away. He tried again.

  “Speaking of maneuvers, what’s up with taking over our Fall Harvest Festival and turning it into a wind-energy fair? This is a community event. It’s tradition. And now, instead of sack races and pumpkin carving, people are over here drinking and dancing.”

  “People seem pretty happy. Maybe the Fall Harvest Festival wasn’t really as fun as you thought?”

  “It was fun. It was tradition...what we’ve always done.”

  “Looks as if people are ready for something new.” Another cheer rose from the crowd as Danny Click finished an especially complicated guitar solo. “It sure seems as though they’re enjoying the change.”

  “It’s good music. Of course they like it. Even I like it. But it doesn’t mean you can just show up here and mess with our traditions.”

  Tess stepped closer, tilting her chin so she was looking right up into his eyes. For a split second, all he could think was how easy it would be to lean down and kiss her. How much he wanted to. And then she reached behind him and briskly plucked one of his flyers from his back pocket. “Can I take one of these?” she murmured. And then she stepped back.

  “Sure,” he croaked, trying to recover from her proximity, and her absence. He tried not to show any of the embarrassment he felt for his flimsy flyer while she examined it.

  She opened it, glancing briefly at the contents before looking up and smiling, a teasing light in her eyes. “How cute!” she said. “It’s so...um...rustic.”

  “Tess, be kind. This isn’t what I do. And I don’t have the infinite dollars of Renewable Reliance stacked behind me.”

  “You’re right, Slaid. I didn’t mean to be rude, but I guess I’m pointing out that times are changing. People don’t want a photocopied flyer. They want flash, color and pizzazz. Maybe they’re ready for the opportunities that Renewable Reliance can bring to this town.”

  “No, Tess, they just like the band and the free food that Renewable Reliance brought to the town.”

  She took a long, deliberate look at the growing crowd around the stage. “I guess we’ll just have to see.”

  “I guess we will.” It was his turn to step closer, using his height to tower over her. Two could play her flirty game, and since she’d started it, he wouldn’t feel guilty about finishing it. “You’re pretty proud of yourself, aren’t you?”

  She laughed softly, and despite his frustration he wanted to taste the mirth of her laughing mouth. “I’m good at what I do, remember?”

  Victory suited her. If one good thing came out of today it was that he got to see Tess at her finest, confident and happy with her success. “Well, there are things I’m good at, too.”

  “I’m sure there are,” she said, just the perfect amount of barely detectable boredom in her voice. “It’s great to see you, Slaid, but I need to get back to my booth. Why don’t you grab some food and enjoy the band.”

  He might accept his defeat today, but he wouldn’t let her dismiss him like that. “Don’t get too confident, Tess. This was just one battle. You haven’t won the war. Not by a long shot. But by all means, enjoy your victory. It might be the only one you have. I’ll see you later. I’ve got some more rustic flyers to hand out.”

  Slaid turned to go, but the day had lost its magic for him. Glancing back, he saw Tess still frozen in place, staring after him through the shifting crowd. For the briefest moment, he could swear she looked lost. But before he could even finish the thought, her shoulders were squared, her head was held high and she was sauntering back to her booth, the picture of confidence.

  All around him in the growing crowd were happy families eating Renewable Reliance’s food, carrying their colorful information packets and listening to the music they’d provided. It would take even more work than he’d originally thought to keep Benson pristine and windmill-free. But he’d figure out a way to do it. He had to. Behind him, Danny Click had the crowd on their feet. At the singer’s suggestion the audience shouted out another deafening “Hell yeah!” Slaid decided to take the cheer as his own much-needed message of encouragement. He would see his plan through. Somehow. Hell yeah.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE VIDEO SHOOT was not going well. First of all, it was freezing. Literally. And since Slaid, the ice-scraping fairy, had stopped coming by after learning that the windmills would be sited in his pasture, Tess had been forced to sacrifice another credit card to get the thick frost off her windshield this morning. Then she’d had to rush to pick up the CEO of Renewable Reliance, who obviously wasn’t impressed with her late arrival.

  Second, the CEO, Allen Tate, proved to be an unhappy guy in general. As he rattled on to her and his unfortunate assistant, a fresh-faced young man named Ben, about the shortcomings of his hotel room and its minibar, Tess fought the urge to yell, “Get used to it!” After all, he and his company had chosen Benson for their project—Benson certainly had not chosen them.

/>   But she had a job to do. A job that today would require all her patience and people skills. Somehow, by focusing on the road and the work ahead of her, Tess managed to hold her tongue and sound sympathetic about the CEO’s woes.

  She made a mental note to find a decent bottle of wine or Scotch at the grocery store. She’d send it up to his room tonight to lessen his minibar troubles. For a moment she envied him—if only her troubles were that simple. Tomorrow he’d leave here and fly back to Chicago—and the comforts of his suburban mansion—while she would carry on in Benson, at odds with her best friend and the most attractive man she’d ever met, toiling on a project that she already knew the town didn’t want.

  Tess pulled the car over to the gravel shoulder of the road, across from the gate leading into Slaid’s pasture. The Bureau of Land Management’s pasture, she reminded herself quickly.

  There were no other cars, even though the camera crew had left the hotel well before she’d picked up Allen and Ben. She put the Jeep in Park and reached for her cell phone, but there was no signal. Of course.

  “We’ll have to head back to town,” she told her passengers. “We’ll see if we can locate the camera crew, or at least a signal so we can call and find out what happened.” Allen sighed audibly and Tess sighed inwardly. This day wasn’t getting much better.

  She U-turned back toward Benson and Ben held up her phone, waving it wildly around, searching for the elusive signal.

  “Reception!” he crowed triumphantly.

  They pulled over so she could call, but as she was dialing the camera crew zoomed by, heading in the direction of the video-shoot location. Either they’d been lost and now were found or they’d stopped for breakfast somewhere. Silently cursing them for making her look like an idiot, Tess pulled another U-turn and followed the crew back to mile marker twenty-three.

  The coffee Tess served everyone from a thermos on her tailgate steamed furiously in the frigid morning air. Coffee she’d had to brew herself at four o’clock this morning and then pour into the giant thermos that Samantha’s friend Betty had borrowed from her church. There was no catering company to be found in Benson.