Chapter Seven #2
All eyes turned expectantly to Noah, whose brain had torched half a thousand cells since the start of the meeting.
Geezuz, just say five hundred. See, he’d already dumbed down his math skills.
Incoherent speech and cognitive decline were in first and second place.
Recover the ball, Calvary. He could win, if he kept his head in the game.
Bethany made valid points, but he had important objectives, too.
Firefighter training in rural areas saved lives, land, and livestock.
Unlike the city, rural firefighters had to navigate diverse terrain, limited water supply, and extensive distances.
Well-trained firefighters worked hoses with skill, understood fire behavior, and carried out search and rescue operations in a safe and effective manner that preserved lives—their own and those of others.
Of course, the town’s history and watershed moments impacted the community as a whole.
Everyone wanted something vital to Service’s longevity…
except Tucker. Pete’s mansion, though unessential, could remain a monument to Service’s excellence.
The previous mayor, Mayor Austin, had worked tirelessly to improve the lives of all residents.
Pete would get there, too. Only six months in the role, the demands on his time continued to grow.
That was why Noah had volunteered as redevelopment committee chair.
“Medical care is important,” he began, then stopped, then started again. “We’re going to make every effort for the town.”
“What does that mean?” demanded Lois Kline, a longtime patron of the Calvary Vet Clinic, her snowdrift white hair twisted into a top knot, her pet companion, Adele, in her lap.
“It means I’ll do my best to consider your suggestions and update the plan—if necessary.” The last part triggered grumblings about Noah working for the mayor instead of them. His legendary confidence evaporated like morning dew under a blowtorch.
Captain Novak’s warning echoed in his ears. If this goes sideways, your job is at risk. Noah’s plan to establish himself as a community leader before the next fire chief selection board seemed as remote as a distant galaxy.
“Perhaps,” came a sultry voice that hit Noah with a wave of cold water followed by a blast of heat, “the committee needs time to evaluate all these important concerns within the framework of the grant requirements.”
Rachel stood, and the air in Noah’s lungs heated several degrees.
Her copper curls caught the fluorescent light, revealing subtle golden highlights he’d never noticed before.
Poised and professional in a crisp emerald blazer, the shy girl who’d once tucked herself against his side at football parties, content to let him dominate conversations, had vanished.
In her place stood a striking woman who commanded attention without demanding it.
She moved to the microphone, which no one else had bothered to use, with an athletic grace—elegant, measured, assured—as if the room had been designed around her movements rather than the other way around.
Unlike Noah, she looked completely unaffected by the sauna-like conditions of the room.
Unnoticed before, but this place was drab, uninviting, and uncomfortable for the number of people occupying the space.
Service deserved better. Rachel tapped the mic with one finger; she kept her bandaged hand at her side before speaking into it.
The muscle in his jaw ticked, remembering her fall and the injury. He should’ve reacted faster.
“I’m sure the chairman and the rest of the members would appreciate our support.
At the same time, I know we all love this town.
Most of you know we lost my mom to cancer when I was five.
Like many of you, healthcare within the community is of vital importance to the Johnson family.
I’m sure our appointed committee members will consider your requests and the options, consultants, and professional input required to execute the grant funding with care. ”
When she spoke, heads turned, not because she was loud, but because her quiet authority pulled them in like gravity. He watched as the people who’d eaten him alive calmed under her command. Pete looked at Noah, not pleased that Rachel had done what Noah hadn’t: allayed people’s fears.
Rachel’s stance clashed with Pete’s vision for a larger public safety operating budget, mainly fire and police, and upgraded administrative spaces, which happened to include a developer rebuilding town hall and the mayor’s residence. Noah should’ve hated it. He didn’t.
Instead, something low and primal heated in his gut—admiration and desire.
“If asked,” she said, a hint of hesitation in her tone, “I’d be happy to prepare a comprehensive preliminary plan within the grant’s parameters that might be helpful.
” She continued, pointing to a sleek leather portfolio in the space she’d vacated, an actual portfolio that Noah hadn’t noticed until now. “Again, if I’m asked. I can help.”
Noah had dated plenty of beautiful women since Rachel.
He’d charmed them with practiced lines and calculated smiles, but none possessed the confidence in their abilities that radiated from Rachel like heat from embers.
For the first time in years, Noah felt himself becoming the orbiting body rather than the sun.
Benji did a fist pump in the air. A second later, his phone camera light blinked on. Great, his public flogging was stored in the cloud to be relived ad nauseam.
Amarie, his sister-in-law, stood in the back, a proud mascot for Team Chaos, still in her purple hospital scrubs with a cheerful potted sunflower on the breast pocket. She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled. “That’s my sister, people. Girl boss material, you hear me.”
They all heard. Noah glared at his oldest brother, Eli, whose face looked the picture of innocence. It was apparent the Calvarys needed a family meeting where he outlined a Come to Noah’s Aid plan.
And as if things couldn’t get worse, Mrs. Kline, the leader of the town’s oldest and most aggressive cheer squad, shouted, “We need Rachel! We need Rachel!”
With her silver tresses bouncing like they had their own marching orders, Mrs. Kline urged the other graybeards to follow their ground commander.
Pete raised one hand, attempting to quiet the troops before a coordinated takedown.
“Thank you, Rachel. And might I add, I’ve never seen you look as radiant as you do today.
But we have a preliminary plan right here.
” Pete pointed to a paper-bag-colored cylinder standing on end beside the podium.
“The redevelopment committee chair and the invited members of the community taking part in the planning will outline the requirements and community priorities based on the town survey. And for outsider help—”
“We’ll give all offers serious consideration,” Noah cut in, his voice heavy with gratitude. “If it’s still available,” he added, scowling at Pete, who stood glaring at Rachel. She didn’t seem to notice or care.
Rachel met his eyes. Not smug. Not condescending. Just… steady. Kind. Like she saw straight through him. “Yes, Noah. I’ll guide you.”
As the crowd began to nod and murmur with renewed optimism, Noah felt the ground shift beneath his feet.
He’d strutted into the town hall ready to claim his crown, but now stood humbled in the rubble of his own hubris.
Little did he know his first official act as chairman would be to extricate himself from a mess of his own making.
“Great. You and I will work together. Sounds like a plan,” he heard himself say. The words burned, but not to complete ash. “The committee will reconvene with a prepared response presentation next week.”
As the meeting adjourned, Noah caught his reflection in the window. His face flushed, his eyes wide with the clarity that he hadn’t been crowned king, but rather the man responsible for keeping the town from caving in for years to come.
He’d thought it was game on with Rachel in town, but it could have been game over…
for him. Rachel would disagree, but Noah recognized his childhood friend—the one who always had his back.
Underneath the defined curls and expensive window dressing, she remained the girl he could count on to have his six.
A part of him remained on the fence, but if Rachel was willing to stand beside him again, Noah could be the first to say “I do.”