Chapter 9
“No, I’m not bringing the mill workers to unload your truck,” Carter said to Anne for the third time, looking to Lincoln like he might lose his temper in another minute. “We’re on a deadline to get an order filled. Besides, you’ve got five men with you. Any more would just be in the way.”
“Those aren’t men. Those are programmers, and the last thing I need is one of them to jam a finger,” Anne said. “We have deadlines, too. We should be working right now, not standing around.”
“Hudson, Nate and I will head to the mill,” Gage broke in. “You two stay and help our new arrivals settle in.” He sounded reasonable, but his hands were spasming with obscene secret code words Lincoln hadn’t seen since his teenage days.
Lincoln bit back a laugh and clapped him on the back. “Thanks. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”
When he, Nate and Hudson had gone, Lincoln stepped between Carter and Anne. “Let’s get this show on the road. Hey—you,” he called to the nearest programmer. “What’s your name?”
The young man looked to Anne. “Uh… Gareth?”
“You tell me, man. It’s your name,” Lincoln joked, inwardly rolling his eyes. The kid was clearly out of his element here. He was five foot nine or ten, Lincoln estimated, with light brown hair and wire-rimmed glasses.
“Gareth,” the young man repeated with a little more conviction. He stood with his hands jammed in his pockets, as if afraid if he took them out, some wild animal might race out of the woods and bite them off.
“Gareth, grab a partner. In fact, all of you partner up. We’re going to unload this truck. While you’re at it, why don’t the rest of you introduce yourselves?”
“I’m Mark,” said a tall man with dark skin and hair and an extremely deep voice.
“Nice to meet you, Mark. How about you team up with Gareth?”
“Will do.” He stepped to Gareth’s side.
“I’m Gregory.” A redhead stepped forward. “That’s Edwin. We can be a team.” He pointed to a blond man who was built like a linebacker but stood with a slight hunch of his shoulders as if he was bent over a laptop even now.
“Glad to meet you both.”
“I’m Troy. No one’s left to be my partner, so I’ll handle things myself.” Troy was Gareth’s height but a little stockier, with sandy brown hair.
Lincoln and Carter ushered the lot of them toward the moving van despite Anne’s protests .
At the back of the moving van, which was already open, he had a moment of trepidation of his own. The vehicle was stacked to the roof with furniture and equipment.
“Is some of this going to town when you set up your office?”
Gareth shook his head. “That’s a whole other truck.”
Carter whistled under his breath.
“What’s the holdup?” Anne said.
“You heard the lady,” Lincoln said to the programmers. “Let’s get going.” He jumped up into the van, and Carter followed. Together, they started handing things down.
“I don’t know where any of this goes, so you all will have to figure that out. Get Anne to show you.”
He was afraid they wouldn’t comply, but once he’d made the job clear, they got to it with more alacrity than he expected. Maybe they were simply shell-shocked from the change in their environments. If so, they’d settle in soon.
They were about a quarter of the way through the job when Carter straightened and pointed toward the Circle.
“Who’s that?”
Lincoln watched a passenger van pull up the road, come around and park close by. Its doors opened, and women began to spill out. He and Carter weren’t the only ones who stopped to watch. All the programmers, including Gregory and Edwin, who were struggling under the weight of a massive wooden desk, had stopped in their tracks.
“Who are they?” Mark asked.
“I think it’s Bella’s friends,” Lincoln said slowly. “It has to be. They aren’t due until next week, though.”
One of them came striding toward them, a blonde with long, wavy hair. “Lincoln? Is that you?”
“Veronica?”
“That’s me!” She bounded up to where he’d climbed down from the moving van and caught him in a surprise hug.
“You’re… early.”
“I know. Isn’t it wonderful? We got so excited, we started packing our stuff and couldn’t stop. When the van was full, we just drove off, and now we’re here!” She flung her arms out to take in her surroundings.
“That’s… great.”
“I know it is. I’m so glad to meet you! Sasha, take a photo!” Veronica looped her arms around Lincoln’s waist and squeezed hard. Another young woman took a photo with her phone. She moved like a dancer and had light brown hair that flowed past her waist.
“I’m posting,” she said, tapping a few keys and smiling. “There. That was fabulous!”
“Wait,” Lincoln protested, far too late. “What is going on?”
“We post constantly,” Veronica explained. “Our followers expect updates at least every half hour.”
“They prefer every ten minutes,” Sasha said. “We’ve done studies.” Looking around her, she pocketed her phone, did something twisty with her hair, looped it on top of her head and stabbed a pen through it.
The programmers watched with awe.
Hell, he was watching with awe. He’d been around the world, but he’d never seen anything quite like these two young women. They had so much… energy.
“There’s so much to photograph here!” Veronica twirled around to take it all in, her blonde hair flying. She stretched out her arms and twirled again, while Sasha held out her phone and filmed. “Elliott Ridge is awesome!” she cried.
“I got all that,” Sasha said. “Posting!” She tapped her phone with a flourish.
“I’m Gareth,” Gareth said with quite a bit more certainty than the last time he’d given his name. He approached Sasha with his hand out, as if to shake. Sasha handed him her purse.
“I’m Sasha. That’s Veronica.” She pointed to the blonde. “That’s Louise.” She pointed to a young woman of medium height whose blonde hair hung in thick braids down her back. “That’s Edie.” She indicated a short girl who sported a towering dark bun. “That’s Tania.” Tania had a nose piercing, dramatic eyeliner and blue hair. “That’s Elaine.”
“Konnichiwa,” Elaine said.
“Are you Japanese?” Troy asked in awe.
“My parents were. I was born in Wyoming,” Elaine said.
“And that’s Bettina,” Sasha finished.
“Betty for short,” Bettina said. Her light brown hair was looped in braids across her head like a Swiss dairy maid. Tattoos covered her arms.
“We’ve got more bags in the van.” Veronica spoke up, addressing Gareth. “Are you here to help us unpack?”
Gareth nodded vigorously.
“Oh, hell no!” Anne stormed up, eyes flashing. “You are not going to steal my programmers. Get your own.”
“I just—”
“No,” Anne boomed. “N. O. No! To everything you’re about to ask,” she added when Veronica opened her mouth again. “Gareth, Mark, back on task!” When she pointed to the truck, the programmers reluctantly returned to the work of emptying it. Gareth handed Sasha her purse. She blew him a kiss, and he flushed.
“Well. Okay,” Veronica said, clapping her hands together. “Ladies, looks like we’re on our own. Good thing we’re goddesses, and we can do anything!” She whooped a battle cry and the other women whooped back at her in sync, a bloodcurdling sound that stopped everyone in their tracks all over again.
“Told you there’d be trouble,” Dennis said, materializing at Lincoln’s shoulder.
“Hell, Dennis.” Lincoln took a steadying breath to try to calm his pulse. The old man had snuck up on him. “There’s no trouble. Just people moving in. They’ll be settled in no time.”
“Doubt it.” Dennis sidled off.
“Where’s our house?” Veronica cried, emerging from the van with a half-opened suitcase. Colorful items of clothing spilled out as she jumped to the ground.
“I’ll take you there,” Carter said. “Can you finish up here?” he asked Lincoln.
“Will do,” Lincoln said.
Carter joined Veronica and pointed to one of the largest, oldest homes on Ridge. It didn’t have the Gothic charm of the programmers’ residence, but its stone facade and many windows gave it character of its own.
“Come on, goddesses!” Veronica led the way, the rest of the women following, laden down with baskets, bags, laundry hampers and the occasional piece of luggage. Carter leaned into the van, pulled out a suitcase and a cardboard box, and trailed after them.
“Is this Elliott Ridge?”
Lincoln wheeled around as a new voice reached his ears. He hadn’t even noticed the dusty Ford truck drive up. A burly man with dark, close-cropped hair stood next to him.
“It is. Can I help you?”
“Cal Evers. I’m here for the mill job? I know I’m a few hours early…”
“Welcome.” Lincoln shook his hand. So what if he was early? So what if the Ridge had descended into pandemonium?
He surveyed the chaos with satisfaction. Maybe he hadn’t planned for it to look this way when he’d helped put the call out for people to join them. It didn’t matter.
The Ridge was coming back to life.
“He says he knows where you are, but he doesn’t actually say where that is,” Steven pointed out when Charlotte managed to call him. She’d sent Craig on ahead to their next appointment and told him she’d follow as soon as she could after she took care of a personal matter. After forwarding Ivan’s message to Steven, she’d called him to ask his advice. “We will have to answer this court filing, though. I’ll file a motion to dismiss.”
“You think you can get the case shut down?” Her heart rose but for only a moment. Even if he did, that wouldn’t be the end of it.
“Ivan could oppose the motion, but let’s keep our fingers crossed. Only trouble is I’ll have to disclose your address after I file. I’ll ask the court for a protective order not to share your address with Ivan.”
“What if they refuse?”
“We’ll file a restraining order, too.”
“I think that would only antagonize him.”
Ivan didn’t have to attack her physically to get revenge. He would take pleasure in torpedoing a family-run operation like Lincoln’s lumber business. God help them all if he ever met Blake Warrington. Those two could throw enough money around to make the Elliotts’ lives miserable—and hers along with them.
“I don’t want him to ruin this life I’m building for myself,” she went on. “You have to keep my whereabouts a secret if you can.”
“Believe me, I’ll try,” Steven said. “Lie low. Send me copies of his emails and documents, and let me do my job. I doubt very sincerely that you’ll have to travel back to Saratoga for that court case, and if you do, I’ll be by your side all the way.”
“Thanks, Steven.”
Charlotte found it hard to concentrate on her work after that and was relieved when she pulled up to number37 at the end of the day. She was too hungry to bother with more than a quick splash of water and a change of clothes before dinner. Knowing Lincoln would still be at the mill, she went straight to the town hall to see how Amanda was doing and find a snack.
On the way she met a swarm of pretty young women taking photographs on house number1’s front porch.
“Those are our newest town members,” Carolyn Snyder said, coming from the direction of Elliott Lake wearing a bathing suit and straw hat, with a beach towel over one arm. “Quite a bunch, aren’t they?” she added as she walked past. “See you at dinner.”
“See you.” Charlotte still hardly knew Carolyn, but she always found her to be friendly when they met. She kept going, but before she walked ten feet farther, she was swarmed by the young women.
“That’s perfect,” one of them cried as she held up her phone and took a photo of Charlotte walking. “Keep going. Smile!”
Charlotte stopped and crossed her arms in front of her face, warding off the photographic assault. “What are you doing?”
“Posting pics of all the townspeople we meet,” the young woman answered. “I’m Sasha, by the way. What’s your name?”
“You can’t post my photo!” Charlotte took a step forward and snatched the phone out of Sasha’s hands.
“Hey!” Sasha lunged for it, but Charlotte held it high.
“You can’t post my photo!”
“Why not?”
“I…” Against her better judgment, she decided to tell the truth. “I don’t want my ex to know where I live.”
Sasha rolled her eyes. “Drama.” She spun the word out.
“It’s not drama. It’s serious. Listen to me.” Charlotte took a deep breath as all the women crowded around. “My ex can’t know where I am. Do you understand?” She looked from one to the other. “I’m not joking. I’m not making something up to call attention to myself, either. He can’t know I’m here.”
Sasha stopped trying to grab her phone. “Is he violent?”
“I… Maybe,” Charlotte said reluctantly, wishing these women hadn’t come to Elliott Ridge. “I love it here. I don’t want to have to leave. He’s pissed at me, and he’ll do anything to ruin what I have if he can find me.” She held out her free hand when the women started asking questions. “I don’t want to talk about it. That part of my life is over. That means you can’t ever post photos of me, and you can’t ever post my name, either. That’s all I’m asking. ”
“We’re just trying to give Elliott Ridge some publicity,” Sasha said sullenly.
“That’s wonderful,” Charlotte said and meant it. “Post away. Just leave me out of it. Can you do that?”
“Fine,” Sasha said after a moment. “There are plenty of other things to post about.” The others nodded.
“Thank you.” Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief and handed Sasha her phone. “Can you delete those photos?”
Sasha tapped away and showed her the camera roll. No photos of Charlotte remained.
“Thanks again. See you at dinner,” she said and hurried on, leaving the women murmuring behind her. As grateful as she was that they’d gone along with her request, she had a feeling she’d created a gulf between her and these new inhabitants of the Ridge.
She went to find Amanda, hoping for sympathy, but found her pacing the town hall’s kitchen in agitation, and her heart sank. She wasn’t the only one having a difficult day.
“I don’t know how to cook for forty-one people,” Amanda said as soon as she spotted Charlotte, pointing with dismay at a lasagna she’d just pulled from the oven. “I made four of these and rotated them on the upper and lower racks, but I still managed to burn one.”
Charlotte came to see. “It doesn’t look too bad,” she said doubtfully. The lasagna in question was charred around the periphery but looked okay in the middle.
“I tried to cut it. It’s burned to a crisp on the bottom,” Amanda said. “It’s inedible. Now what do I serve everyone?”
Charlotte looked around the kitchen. Amanda had made garlic bread and salad to go with the meal, so she moved to look in the cupboards and refrigerator. This was a problem she could solve. She was happy to be tucked away back here, far from the young women with their cell phones. She had a feeling it would take constant vigilance not to show up on their social media pages. “We can make more garlic bread. And here’s another head of lettuce.” She started pulling out all the salad vegetables she could find. “We can precut the pieces of lasagna to make sure everyone gets at least one,” she added.
“The mill workers are going to revolt. No matter how much bread and salad we feed them, they love my lasagna and always want seconds.”
“Maybe the influencers won’t eat it. Because of the carbs,” Charlotte hurried to clarify when Amanda frowned. “I bet they’ll load up on salad. Hold on.” She opened a few cupboards and pulled out a couple of cans of chickpeas triumphantly. “I can add these to it and dress it up a bit with a few more odds and ends. Make it a meal in itself. We’ll call it the vegan option.”
“I guess.”
They both turned when the door to the kitchen opened and a man Charlotte didn’t recognize stuck his head in. He was a large, burly man with close-cropped hair and a friendly smile.
“Hi,” he said brightly. “Just checking when dinner is. Carter mentioned people tend to eat together here, but he didn’t give me a time, and I don’t want to be late.”
Amanda’s shoulders slumped. Charlotte could guess what she was thinking: another mouth to feed. “You probably won’t want to come,” Amanda said dispiritedly.
“Of course he will,” Charlotte said quickly. “We’ve had a minor kitchen mishap,” she explained to the stranger, “and Amanda’s not used to that. She’s a fabulous cook.”
“I’m not a cook at all,” Amanda said. “I’m just a person who knows how to cook a few things. Before I came here, the largest meal I ever made was for six people. Now I’m trying to feed more than forty.”
The man let himself all the way into the kitchen.
“I cooked in camps up north in the oil patch for five years. In Canada.”
“Like… summer camps?” Amanda asked, her forehead wrinkled in confusion.
The stranger laughed. “Hardly. In northern Canada, oil and gas extraction often happen in places so remote you have to fly in. Guys work two weeks on, two weeks off. While they’re in camp, they’re provided with housing, food, you name it. I was a cook in some of those places before I got into logging.”
“Why did you switch careers?” Amanda asked. She made room for him as he came to inspect the lasagna.
“Better pay.” He shrugged. “Kind of miss it sometimes, though.”
“If you have ideas for how to salvage our meal, I’m all ears. Charlotte is expanding the salad and making more garlic bread, but I don’t think that’s going to keep the mill workers happy. Everyone will be here in a few minutes. We eat at six,” Amanda said. “I’m Amanda, by the way. That’s Charlotte.”
“I’m Cal. Calvin Evers. I think we can save some of this lasagna. Can I try?”
“Go ahead. Please.”
Charlotte drained the chickpeas and chopped vegetables as Cal got to work skimming the top half of the burned lasagna out of the pan, leaving the charred bits behind. He placed what he salvaged in a new pan he fished out of a nearby cupboard, as if he already knew how the kitchen was laid out.
Amanda took the rest of the lasagnas out of the oven, set them aside and began slicing more Italian bread. Charlotte could hear voices in the cafeteria as people filed in. She divided the salad into two large serving bowls and grabbed bottles of dressing, arranging them all on the long table beneath the serving window in the cafeteria. The plates, silverware and napkins were already lined up there.
Amanda fired three more loaves of garlic bread into the oven to heat. Charlotte noticed Cal had cut up the salvaged portion of lasagna and was adding leftover mozzarella and ricotta cheese and a jar of sauce to it. “I’ll just pop this in the oven, and we can serve it as seconds,” he said. “Kind of like lasagna soup.” He cut the other three lasagnas into small squares and covered them with aluminum foil .
“We’ll hand out salad first,” he said. “Make them come up for a second time to get bread and lasagna. By the time they come up a third time for lasagna soup and even more bread, they’ll feel like they’ve gotten their money’s worth.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” Charlotte said. She’d worried for a moment that Amanda might not like the way Cal was taking over, but Amanda seemed relieved. She couldn’t blame her. Even twenty-six people was a lot to cook for on a regular basis. Forty-two verged into professional territory.
It worked out just as Cal said. Charlotte and Amanda directed everyone to eat their salads first. Even the men, who were hungry from a day’s work, took a healthy serving, something they didn’t always do if meat and potatoes were on offer right away. The women happily exclaimed over the salad. One of them, an attractive blonde, lingered at the window. “Are you new here, too?” she asked Cal. “I’m Veronica.”
“I am new,” Cal said. “I’m Cal. These two ladies have been here much longer, though.”
“We met outside. I’m Charlotte. I’ve been here for a few weeks,” Charlotte said.
“I’m Amanda. It’s a few months for me,” Amanda said. “I got here in April and married Carter Elliott in June.”
“You found a husband here?” Veronica asked, perking up at the information.
“I did. Are you looking for one?” Amanda teased her.
“I am,” Veronica said seriously. “Are you looking for a wife?” she asked Cal, who set a basket of garlic bread near the window.
“Uh… I guess?” he sputtered. “Hadn’t thought about it much.”
“Maybe you should think about it,” Veronica said, took a slice of bread, dropped it on her plate and walked off.
“Maybe I should,” Cal said, his gaze following her.
While everyone ate their first course, Charlotte, Amanda and Cal set out the rest of the bread and lasagna on platters on the buffet table outside the serving window.
They made everyone stay in line and behave in an orderly fashion as they came through a second time, serving them several slices of bread but only one piece of lasagna.
Charlotte heard some of the men grumbling, but when they put out the lasagna soup, as Cal called it, only a trickle of them came to get some. Everyone else was full and mellow enough to take their time.
“Why’s Cal working in the kitchen?” Lincoln asked Charlotte when the meal was in progress and she and Amanda came out to join him and his brothers at their usual table.
She told him what had happened. “He took over like he’d been running the place all along. He just shooed us out of there to come and eat. Says he’s got it all under control.”
Lincoln looked alarmed. “He’s supposed to be here to work at the mill.”
“Looks to me like he’s here to cook,” Gage said from the far end of the table. Charlotte thought she saw a glint of humor in his eyes.
“No way. You can’t go poaching my men,” Lincoln told Amanda.
“I didn’t poach anyone. Charlotte told you—he came looking for work.”
“Didn’t you make her agree to do the cooking for a year?” Lincoln asked Gage.
“Not sure I said she couldn’t have help.” Gage shrugged and took another scoop of his lasagna soup.
“I can’t cook two meals a day for forty-one people by myself,” Amanda pointed out.
“Of course not,” Carter said. “It wasn’t fair to ask you to cook at all, anyway.”
“Not when she’s the town manager and librarian, too,” Charlotte put in.
“I can’t run the mill by myself, either.” Lincoln tore a piece of bread in two and dipped it in red sauce. “I need Cal.”
“Maybe we should leave it up to him to decide,” Carter said.
“Are we going to keep eating together when the community gets even bigger?” Charlotte asked. “Is that how you did it when you were kids?”
“No,” Lincoln said. “Back then the Ridge was full of families. People cooked at their own houses except on special celebrations when we all ate together.”
“I guess we’ll figure it out as we go,” Carter said. “Is that lasagna soup going to run out?” He craned his neck to look toward the kitchen.
“No,” Amanda assured him. “There’s plenty.”
“Can’t we stay right here?” Lincoln asked, wrapping an arm around Charlotte’s waist when she moved to get out of bed the next morning. Summer was slipping by quickly. The sun was so bright he knew he’d struggle to go back to sleep, even though he’d been up past one the night before, his mind spinning.
“I have work. So do you. And I want my morning ride.”
“I’ll give you a morning ride,” he growled into the side of her neck. “Another one, that is.”
Charlotte pushed him away. “One is enough, and you know that’s not what I mean.”
“But you could mean it.” He inched closer again.
He traced kisses down her neck to her shoulders, melting her resolve, and by the time they finished what he’d managed to start, it was too late to think of saddling any horses before breakfast.
“Sorry you won’t get out on the trail,” he said as they shared the shower.
“I suppose it’s all right,” she teased. “But I’m going to be late to work at this rate.”
“You have plenty of time.” But that wasn’t exactly true. The kitchen in number37 was still a shambles, so they had to rush over to the cafeteria for their breakfast. Twenty minutes later Charlotte shoved her plate away when she was only half done and wrapped a muffin in a paper napkin. “I’ll eat this on the way. See you tonight.” When she bent to kiss Lincoln’s cheek, he caught her hand and held her there a moment longer.
“Drive carefully,” he said. “Craig can wait five minutes.”
“I’m not sure he can. We’ve got a busy day ahead of us.”
A moment later she was gone.
Lincoln felt a pang as he watched her go. When Carter was wooing Amanda, there’d been hardly anyone on the Ridge. He’d ducked out of work all the time to fix her house and spend time with her. Meanwhile, he and Charlotte were always racing in different directions. They were making slow and steady progress on number37, but he wished they could spend a full day together with no interruptions. At least they’d finished the renovations on both her bathrooms, had painted most of the rooms and were nearly ready to refinish the floors.
Meanwhile, he expected another new hire today and more tomorrow. No time for slacking off if he wanted the transition from temporary workers to permanent ones to go smoothly.
He was just finishing his own meal when Veronica, Sasha and the other women arrived in a flurry of loud exclamations, cell phones and laughter.
Gage, who’d just sat down with his plate of food, stood up again and slipped out a side door, carrying it with him.
Nate, already eating, chuckled.
Lincoln shoveled a last bite of food into his mouth and stood, too.
“What the hell are they doing?” Hudson asked, sitting back in his chair and craning his head.
Lincoln turned to find six of the women standing in a line, hands on their hips, while Veronica filmed them with her phone. The women broke into a cheerleading routine, their shouted words echoing off the high cafeteria ceiling.
“One, two, three, four! Where’s the place we all adore? Elliott Ridge! Elliott Ridge! Go… Ridgebacks!
Nate winced. Even Hudson, genetically programmed to like everything women did, looked pained. “Ridgebacks? That doesn’t make sense for an Elliott Ridge mascot. We don’t have wild hogs here.”
“We don’t have any athletic teams, either,” Lincoln pointed out.
“Do you have to act like children?” Anne got up from a table across the room and faced off with Veronica and her crew. “Don’t you have any work to do?”
“This is our work,” Sasha said, flipping her long hair over her shoulder, her mouth pursed in a pout. “We do our marketing as a team, creating interesting content that attracts a variety of people to our various businesses. We’ve decided to create a promotional campaign for Elliott Ridge to help Lincoln and his brothers attract new settlers to the town.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Anne said. “We don’t need any more settlers, and your nonsense won’t attract anyone to the Ridge anyway. My team will be here in thirty seconds. I expect complete silence as long as we’re present.”
“This is a cafeteria, not a mausoleum,” Louise spoke up, tugging on the end of one of a thick blonde braid. “We can talk all we want.”
“Just… stay away from my team.” Anne stalked off to take up a position by the door. The influencers trailed over to the serving window, where Carter was busy dishing out breakfast.
“Where’s Cal?” Veronica asked, peering into the kitchen.
“He’ll be here at lunch,” Carter said.
“Did we agree to serve the newcomers breakfast?” Lincoln asked Nate, watching Carter fill Veronica’s plate. Carter looked a little panicky, like there wasn’t enough food to go around.
“I don’t think so.”
Traditionally, Lincoln and his brothers took turns cooking breakfast for each other, while the mill workers ate at the bunkhouse for the morning meal.
“Are Veronica and her friends paying us to cook for them? What about the permanent mill workers?” Nate asked suddenly. “Because we can’t afford to feed everyone on our own dime.”
Lincoln hadn’t thought about that. They had served the temporary mill workers as part of their compensation, and Anne had already agreed to pay for the meals her programmers ate, but the influencers hadn’t agreed to pay for anything, and neither had the permanent mill workers.
“I’d better help Carter sort this out.”
He brought his empty plate to the serving window and leaned around the women gathered in front of it to pass it to Carter before he addressed them.
“Ladies, glad you could join us for your first week’s welcome package of meals. On Sunday you can let us know if you want to continue on our eating plan or not and which meals you want to sign up for. We offer lunch and dinner and can start offering breakfast, if you’re interested. We’ll get you pricing for the different packages. You can let us know what you’d prefer. Would you like omelets or French toast this morning?” he asked Sasha, since Veronica had already been served.
“Omelets,” Sasha said. “Plain toast is fine.”
“Coming right up.” He entered the kitchen. “Go eat,” he said to Carter. “I got this.”
“Thanks for saving me. I didn’t know what to say when all these new people showed up. It didn’t even occur to me they’d want breakfast, too.”
“You’re a newlywed. You’ve got other things on your mind.” Lincoln pulled out a carton of eggs. “Do you think Amanda can shop today? We’re running out of food.”
“She already said she would. She and Cal are going to come up with a menu plan. She’ll shop and help prep the meals, but he’ll take over as chef from now on, I guess.” He didn’t look entirely happy about it, and Lincoln wondered if he disliked the idea of another man getting to spend so much time with his wife.
Lincoln wasn’t happy to lose Cal, either. “Guess that’s another mill worker I need to find.”
“Guess I should have learned to cook,” Carter said darkly. “Then I could have spent my days with Amanda.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Lincoln warned him. “We need you chasing contracts, not making soup. Any luck with that, by the way?”
“Got a few things in the works.” Carter shrugged.
“I thought you had something sewn up the other day.”
“I thought so, too, but it didn’t pan out. Don’t worry,” he added. “There’s more work where that came from. See you at the mill.”
“See you.”
Lincoln was whipping up breakfast for the ladies—and for Anne’s programmers as they straggled in—when Cal appeared in the kitchen.
“Want me to take over?”
“Would you?” Lincoln asked gratefully. “I hate to lose you at the mill, but I’m no short-order cook. You’d better come have a talk with Carter and me, though. We need to work out another contract for you if you’re going to take on kitchen duty.”
“You bet. I’ll handle clean up. You go ahead. I’ll stop by the mill later. Sorry I won’t be there to pitch in, like you expected.”
“That’s okay.” Lincoln appreciated his offer to be chef—and dishwasher—now that he was faced with the prospect of doing it himself.
“Hi, Cal!” Veronica called.
“Hi, Veronica.”
Lincoln left them and found Gage outside finishing his meal, perched on a stone wall near the entrance to the town hall.
“Enjoying yourself?” Lincoln asked.
“More than you are. That another one of your new hires?” He pointed to a truck that had pulled into the Circle and was slowly traversing it.
“Maybe.” Lincoln felt like all he did these days was meet new people. On the one hand, these were folks who were motivated to be here and ready to settle in the town for the most part, unlike the crop of temporary workers who’d been so hard to manage in the early days. On the other hand, so many new faces all at once kept reminding him of bootcamp, when everything and everyone was unfamiliar, and he’d felt like the ground was constantly shifting beneath his feet. It had taken weeks before he felt anything like confidence back then, but the first time he’d been sure of himself—and sure of what he was supposed to do next—had been sweet. He looked forward to reaching that stage here.
He went to meet the stranger, waving at him to indicate where he could park, then stepped up to the open passenger window of the Dodge. “Are you Glenn Porter?” He recognized the burly man with short, graying hair from the photos he’d seen when he looked up Glenn online.
“That’s me.” Glenn hopped out, shook his hand vigorously, then froze as he glanced over Lincoln’s shoulder. “What the hell is that? ”
His abrupt change of tone made Lincoln spin around fast. He nearly groaned when he realized Veronica and her friends had spilled out of the town hall and were getting into a pyramid formation. As they erupted into another cheer, Sasha dutifully filming it, he bit back a sigh. He hadn’t caught all the words, but Elliott Ridge had figured somewhere in the chant again. They were trying to help.
“Social media influencers. They’re on a cheerleading kick today.”
“Influencers? What’re they doing here?”
“Saving money. Housing is cheap on Elliott Ridge compared to where they’re from.”
Glenn studied them. “Do they act like that all the time?”
“No,” Lincoln said, although he had a feeling they might. “They work a lot, too. It’s just that they’re young,” he added. “Excited to be in a new place.”
“Huh.”
Lincoln had a feeling Glenn was considering turning his Dodge around and driving away. “Let’s get you settled in, and I’ll take you to the mill,” he hurried to say. “Did you have any thoughts about renting or buying one of our houses?” He’d mentioned both options to all the men he’d hired. Cal had rented one of the smaller cabins in the older part of town. He’d told Lincoln he wanted to get to know the place before he made any long-term decisions.
“Thinking about buying,” Glenn said. “Or I was, anyway.” He was still watching the influencers.
“We can set you up in a rental to get started,” Lincoln assured him calmly. “We’re getting a lot of interest in our houses for sale, so we’ll have no problem filling them.”
The old sales technique worked. Glenn straightened and focused on him. “Well, let’s take a look at a few of those, too, just in case.”
“This way,” Lincoln said. “I’ll show you the mill first and give our realtor a call. She can tour the houses with you. She’s fantastic at her job.”
She liked being a small-town livestock veterinarian, Charlotte thought as she pulled into the driveway of number37 at the end of a workday later that week. She and Craig had a rhythm now. He was growing more cheerful by the minute as they caught up on a backlog of cases he’d been struggling to get to on his own.
“I really hope you mean to stay,” he’d said as they’d packed up their things after their last appointment of the afternoon. “Don’t think I could stand going back to the pace I was keeping when I was alone.”
“I mean to stay,” she told him. She was finding the work far more gratifying than she’d expected. It was varied and interesting, and she liked the people she met along the way. They were a far cry from the high-strung jockeys and stressed-out trainers she answered to in Saratoga. She and Craig had begun to split up for some of the work, now that she’d gotten familiar with the area, which meant that while they weren’t quite doubling his former workload, they were getting close .
When she arrived home each night and cleaned herself up, she found a wonderful meal already cooked at the town hall. Dinners were lively affairs these days, even if she sometimes rolled her eyes at Veronica and her friends’ more colorful antics. She followed their social media feeds obsessively to make sure she didn’t feature in any of their posts. So far they’d kept their word and excluded her, which she appreciated more than she could say.
Now that she wasn’t upset with them, she’d realized each of the women had a specialty they were pursuing, and it seemed like some of them were running several businesses at once—all remotely. They teased the programmers mercilessly when they got the chance. Each morning after breakfast, they waved and blew kisses at them as the men boarded the van Lincoln had brought out from storage and tuned up for them until Anne declared she was going to tint the windows. They’d created a welcome-home cheer that made the forest ring with their shouts when the van pulled in again at the end of the day. After the first couple of times, the mill workers complained they were being left out, so Sasha had made up a new cheer on the spot, and the women performed it every time the mill workers arrived at the cafeteria for dinner, too.
While the mill workers, both the temporary ones and permanent hires who were trickling in to take their places, were keenly interested in the sudden increase in women at lunch and dinner, Anne’s programmers were doing a better job of romancing them, much to Anne’s chagrin.
Veronica still flirted outrageously with Cal at every mealtime. Gareth trailed after Sasha whenever Anne’s back was turned. Tall Mark and diminutive Edie could often be found in various corners talking earnestly. Redheaded Gregory showed his feelings for athletic, boisterous Tania by running his hands through his hair so often when she was around it stood on end. Troy, who did everything a little manically, must have been channeling his extra energy into studying Japanese, because whenever he saw Elaine, he began speaking it—very badly, if Elaine’s alternately horrified and amused expressions were any indicator. Louise and Bettina held hands everywhere they went, and Charlotte was certain they were a couple, but she didn’t think everyone had cottoned on to that yet. On the rare occasions they could be found apart, she’d seen various mill workers attempt to woo them.
The most startling couple by far, however, was linebacker Edwin—and Anne.
The tech start-up’s fearless leader refused to acknowledge anything was happening between them. If Edwin tried to talk to her in public, she dressed him down in no uncertain terms, but on one of Charlotte’s early mornings, she’d seen Edwin and Anne leave the stables just as she was approaching, and it wasn’t difficult to guess what they’d snuck off there together to do.
Lincoln and his brothers really would have to lure more women to the Ridge, Charlotte thought as she let herself into her house and found him already there, pacing the living room, his phone pressed to his ear. With so much love blossoming between the young people, the mill workers were bound to feel restless.
“I know, Dad. I was there, remember?” Lincoln said, coming to a standstill by the front window. A floor sander stood in the corner, waiting for them to finally be ready to sand and refinish the floors. First they needed to move her clothes and what little furniture she had out of the house, but they’d both been so busy this week, they hadn’t gotten to that yet. She knew it was frustrating Lincoln that their renovations were progressing so slowly, but Charlotte was more concerned with what Ivan might pull next. There’d been no word from Steven except to tell her he’d filed the motion to dismiss Ivan’s claim against her and that he’d asked the judge to withhold her address in any discovery demands. Charlotte didn’t know what she’d do if she had to return to Saratoga and face Ivan in court—or what else she’d tell Lincoln about him if she did. It was bad enough she’d spilled what happened to Summer’s Day. Lincoln already had to be questioning her judgment.
“Dad—believe me, the last thing I want to do is take on more debt.” Lincoln lowered his phone when he saw her. “Go ahead to dinner when you’re ready. This might take a while.”
Charlotte nodded, but he was already focused on his conversation again. “I’ve had to repair the edger every day this week. Once it conks out, we’ll be at a standstill. If we’re not sawing lumber, we won’t make any money.”
Charlotte left him to it, slipped upstairs to shower and found Lincoln still arguing with his father when she came down again. She waited a couple of minutes, checking emails and social media, then swore.
Lincoln held his phone away from his face. “Something wrong?”
“N-no,” she stammered. “I’ll meet you at the town hall like you said, okay?”
“I’ll get there as soon as I can.” He went back to his call.
Charlotte hurried outside and looked at her phone. As usual, Sasha had posted a slew of images over the course of the day. One of them featured Mark and Edie kissing passionately at the latest Saturday night beach cookout, with the hashtag #MarryingestTownInTheUSA. Clearly visible behind them was Charlotte, facing the camera directly. How had she missed that Sasha was taking the photo? And how had Sasha not noticed her in the background of it?
Furious, she stalked toward the influencer’s house, determined to make Sasha take it down. Her name wasn’t mentioned anywhere, but Ivan could be using facial recognition software.
She met Nate and Gage on her way.
“Where’s Lincoln?” Nate asked cheerfully. She liked all Lincoln’s brothers, but Nate was especially easygoing. He spent a lot of time in the little building they all referred to as their grandfather’s workshop. Amanda had shown her the hutch Nate gave her as a wedding present, and Charlotte had been surprised to learn it wasn’t an heirloom since the work was so fine.
“On the phone with your dad.” She tried to keep her anger from her voice and must have managed it, because Gage chuckled.
“Let me guess. They’re talking about the edger?”
She shrugged. “Something about the mill shutting down?”
Gage nodded. “I don’t know how much longer Lincoln can keep repairing it. The blades keep jamming. We have to shut down the line every time it happens.”
“He’d better keep doing his best. We can’t afford a new one,” Nate said. “Not until we pay for the equipment we already bought.” He frowned. Charlotte thought that if easygoing Nate was worried about money, their situation must be bad. She’d known as much, but somehow it struck her more forcefully today. She was part of this community, which meant whatever happened to the Elliotts happened to her.
Charlotte opened her mouth to question them about it, but Nate pointed to the Circle. “What is going on over there?”
She followed his finger and noticed the programmers’ van parked in front of their house, which meant they were home from Alice’s workshop. Nearby, Veronica and her friends paced back and forth holding picket signs. Sasha held a megaphone and was shouting out the slogans they’d written. All of them were dressed in diaphanous outfits that hugged their bodies and flared at their feet, giving them the look of mermaids. They wore wigs of silver hair that reached almost to their knees.
“Programmers, programmers, let your hair down,” Sasha shouted through her megaphone. “Don’t let the wicked witch keep you trapped in your tower. Come out and have some fun! It’s national Hot Enough for Ya? Day! Let’s go for a swim!”
“Is she comparing the programmers to Rapunzel?” Charlotte asked Gage, her anger temporarily forgotten. “I mean, Anne’s keeping them on a pretty tight leash, but they leave the Ridge every day.”
“Beats the hell out of me.”
“I want to know more about this Hot Enough for Ya? Day,” Nate said, his serious expression relaxing into a grin. “Is there cake?”
Charlotte shrugged. “Seems like there ought to be ice cream at the very least.”
“Fee fi fo fum, I smell the blood of a capitalist!” Sasha shouted.
“Guess we’ve moved on to ‘Jack and the Beanstalk’ now,” Nate said.
“Open up your doors, Anne, or we’ll cut this beanstalk down!” Bettina hollered, confirming his guess.
A second-story window opened, and Anne leaned out. “Are you saying you’re going to take an ax to my house? Because I’d be happy to call the sheriff and have you arrested!”
“Would you let the guys out for fifteen minutes? We just want to go for a swim before dinner!” Sasha said into her microphone.
“Hah! Not likely. We’re in a meeting, so get going— and stop bothering my men!”
“Why don’t you eat this apple? It’s probably not poisoned!” Sasha reached into a net grocery bag she was carrying, pulled one out and shook it at Anne.
“Are you threatening me?”
“I’m telling you I’m seriously pissed that you won’t let my boyfriend come swimming with me for fifteen lousy minutes!”
Anne ducked when Sasha threw the apple at her, even though it struck the house about five feet away from where Anne peeped out. Sasha dumped a dozen or more apples from her bag onto the ground, and the other women dove for them and came up firing. Most bounced off the house harmlessly. One smacked against a window. Charlotte gasped, but the glass didn’t break. Several more windows opened, and a few male heads appeared.
“What’s going on?” Mark called down.
“They lost me on the apple thing,” Gage said to Charlotte.
“Snow White, I think? Didn’t the witch try to poison her with an apple?” Charlotte wasn’t sure what that had to do with Anne and her programmers. “We’d better stop this, don’t you think?”
“I guess—hell!”
Anne, who’d disappeared into the second-story room, reappeared with a bucket of water, which she dumped on Sasha’s head. Sasha screamed, and her megaphone emitted a shrill squawk. The other women scattered.
“Are you crazy?” Sasha yelled up at Anne, dropping the megaphone and putting her hands on her head. “Do you know how much this wig costs? You can’t get it WET!”
She trooped off, the other women trailing her, leaving behind the megaphone, the signs and a triumphant Anne.
“Come back,” Gareth said half-heartedly from another window.
“Don’t come back. Ever! Nobody breaches my Fortress of Solitude,” Anne hollered.
But even as she said it, Mark disappeared from his window. There was some kind of scuffle inside the house. A moment later, the front door opened, and the programmers spilled out.
“Freedom!” Mark yelled, holding his fist in the air.
“To the lake!” Gregory cried as Anne burst out of the house behind them.
“Get back in here. We have five more minutes—”
But the influencers were back, led by a sodden Sasha, who now carried her ruined wig in her hand. “To the lake!” she screamed and dashed away. Her friends raced after her, and the programmers joined them in a bellowing horde all heading for house number1 and the beach beyond it.
“For god’s sake,” Anne cried to Nate and Gage. “Why didn’t you stop them?”
“They’re adults. They can do what they want,” Nate pointed out.
“That is the stupidest thing I ever heard. ”
“Told you the men needed a break,” Edwin said, the last of the programmers to trail out of the house. He took Anne’s hand, but she thrust it away and stalked after her team. Edwin sighed and followed.
Charlotte moved after them, but Gage stopped her. “Don’t get involved. Let them sort it out themselves.”
“Oh, I’m not getting involved,” she assured him. “I just want to watch.” She was curious what would happen next—and she still needed to tell off Sasha. “Aren’t you coming?”
“I am,” Nate said eagerly. “Do you think Anne’s going to drown anyone? I bet she’ll try.”
“Gage?” Charlotte prompted.
“Oh, why the hell not.” He followed Nate, who was already striding after the others.
“Charlotte, hold up!”
Charlotte turned to see Lincoln loping after them. “What’s going on?” he asked when he fell in step by her side.
Charlotte filled him in as they walked. It was mayhem at the lake by the time they reached it. The beach was strewn with the programmers’ jeans and T-shirts and the influencers’ fairy-inspired dresses. Silver wigs dotted the sand like beached jellyfish.
“Are they skinny-dipping?” Charlotte bit back a smile. There was a lot of splashing and shrieking going on but not much swimming.
Lincoln scanned the sand and then the lake. “I think the girls are. Not so sure about the guys. Either they kept their briefs on, or they’ve been going commando all this time.”
“I’m not sure I want to know.”
Anne had reached the beach a few steps ahead of them and watched the chaos with her hands on her hips. “This is ridiculous. Total waste of time.”
“They’re just having a little fun,” Edwin assured her. He stood a half step behind her, almost protectively, and Charlotte thought they made a good couple despite Anne’s refusal to acknowledge they were together.
When a scream of real terror cut through his words, however, Charlotte froze. Sasha stood up and pointed at the woods across a stretch of water. “There’s someone there! I saw him! A man!”
Charlotte sucked in a breath. The hairs on her neck prickled. Someone was in the woods? Watching them?
Who?
Could it be Ivan?
She remained frozen in place as Lincoln strode to the water’s edge, his brothers on his heels. “Where?” he called out.
“He was filming us!” Sasha stood waist deep in the water, still pointing.
“Filming us?” Veronica waded over to stand next to her.
“What if he’s from Flash House?” Edie gasped. “They’re our rivals,” she explained to Mark. “They hate us because we have actual jobs in addition to being content creators. They’re just influencers, so they’re really boring.” She stumbled out of the water until she was thigh deep, then stopped and turned back, covering her body with her hands dramatically. “If they film us skinny-dipping, they’ll definitely post photos.”
She didn’t seem too upset at the idea.
“I don’t see anyone,” Lincoln said, shading his eyes as he searched the far shore.
“I don’t see anyone, either,” Mark said, but since he was staring straight at Edie, Charlotte wasn’t sure how he could.
“Well, I don’t need anyone taking photos of me ,” Gareth said. Mark swore, and all the men splashed out of the water and pulled their jeans on over their soaking briefs.
“Let’s go look,” Lincoln said to Gage. The two men raced off on foot, sticking to the strip of beach between water and forest. Nate remained behind, still scanning the forest all around them, as if guarding everyone else from a possible attack.
“I bet it was Sean Sidwell.” Sasha was still pointing.
“That wasn’t Sean—if anyone, that was Timothy Towers,” Veronica said, slowly making her way out of the water. “He was dark, not blond.”
“Those were Sean Sidwell’s shoulders,” Sasha retorted, finally wading out, as well. “I’d know them anywhere.”
“He had Timothy Towers’s posture!”
“Why would either of those people be in our woods?” Charlotte challenged them as they pulled their costumes back on. The names they kept repeating sounded like Dickens characters, but she was in no mood to laugh. If someone was in the woods, Lincoln and Gage were racing toward danger.
Maybe racing toward Ivan.
The women took their time getting dressed, their complete lack of self-consciousness about their nudity frustrating Charlotte. How could they be so unconcerned—and so damn confident? She felt old and stodgy in comparison.
“Flash House are our rivals,” Veronica said, echoing Edie, talking slowly as if Charlotte was a child. “They’re the most self-centered, god-awful narcissists who constantly try to steal our sponsors.”
“ They’re the narcissists? Really?” Anne asked her.
“Why? Did you think you were the only one?” Veronica retorted.
Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted Lincoln jogging back, Gage trailing close behind him. “No one’s there,” Lincoln announced when he arrived.
“See?” Anne cried. “A lot of fuss about nothing!” She turned her back on the women and surveyed her ragtag group of men, then aimed a finger imperiously toward the settlement. “Home—now!” The programmers trundled off with shoulders slumped. When one or two cast backward looks at the pretty women they were leaving on the beach, Anne spurred them on with threats about curtailing their gaming time.
“There was definitely someone there,” Veronica told Gage. Her costume was on, but it clung to her in such a revealing way she might as well still be nude. “It was Timothy from Flash House. Just wait. Tomorrow there will photos of us all over the internet. ”
“It was Sean,” Sasha said. She was clothed, as well, but her wig sat on the sand, and she was wringing the water out of her hair. Charlotte wondered if all of it was her own. There was just so much of it.
“It was probably Dennis,” Lincoln muttered to Charlotte when the influencers finally made their way off the beach. “I bet he got an eyeful and ran for the hills.”
“Does Dennis own a phone? Sasha seemed pretty sure she saw someone filming them.”
“Sasha’s pretty sure she’s the center of the universe,” Gage said. “Come on, let’s eat.”
Charlotte nodded, but her stomach was tight with worry. What if it wasn’t Flash House—or Dennis?
What if Ivan had discovered where she lived?