Chapter 26
26
R eva sat back in her office chair, staring at the email that glared back at her from the computer screen. The subject line alone was enough to make her want to close the laptop and pretend it didn’t exist.
URGENT: Seismic Safety Mandate for Thunder Mountain Public Buildings.
The office around her was quiet, save for the faint hum of the air conditioner. The renovation had done wonders to erase the water damage from the flood earlier in the year, but now it felt like she had barely enjoyed the space before another disaster landed on her desk.
The walls were painted a soft sage, the new flooring solid beneath her feet, and yet everything felt off-kilter—like the ground beneath her feet could shift again at any moment. And it had been. Tremors had been shaking Thunder Mountain for weeks now, but this email made it clear things were about to get worse. At least for her and the municipality of Thunder Mountain.
She looked at the colorful drawing Lucan had given her a few days ago, taped to the edge of her monitor. His simple crayon strokes were a bright reminder of everything she was trying to protect, but even that small comfort couldn’t distract her from the reality spelled out in neat, cold text in the email.
The U.S. Geological Survey and FEMA were mandating seismic upgrades for all public buildings in Thunder Mountain. They needed to meet stricter safety codes immediately or face fines—and worse, the possible closure of critical facilities that the town relied on. Even the small, cherished library and the new community center, a popular gathering spot, weren’t exempt from the new requirements.
The costs? Astronomical. The town’s budget couldn’t stretch that far, not even close. The government offered loans, of course, but those came with strings that could pull Thunder Mountain into financial ruin for years.
The urgency of these upgrades weighed heavily. Resources were already stretched thin.
Reva let out a long sigh, pushing her hair back from her face as she stood and moved to the window. Outside, the trees lining Main Street were beginning to turn a deeper shade of green as summer settled in. The peaceful scene outside her office window did nothing to calm her mind. The weight of it all sat heavy on her chest.
How was she supposed to explain this to the town? The people who could barely afford their own homes, let alone pay extra assessments for retrofitting old buildings that had withstood decades without incident.
The office door swung open suddenly, and Reva startled, her hand flying to her chest.
Capri stood in the doorway, one hand gripping the handle, her face flushed as if she’d rushed over. She wore her usual outdoor gear—jeans, a fitted fleece jacket, and hiking boots, dirt smeared on her knees, looking like she had just come back from the river. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” she said, closing the door behind her. “You weren’t answering your phone, so I decided to drop by.”
Reva exhaled, trying to settle her racing heart. “No, it’s fine. I just—” She gestured vaguely to the screen. “Got some… news.”
Capri raised an eyebrow and sauntered over, glancing at the screen as she flopped down in the chair across from Reva’s desk. “FEMA? What, are we getting disaster funds? I thought the earthquake damage wasn’t that bad.”
Reva shook her head and sat down, feeling the tension start to creep into her shoulders. “No, not exactly. They’re imposing strict new regulations on all the public buildings in town. The school, city hall, the community center—all of them need to be retrofitted to meet updated seismic codes. And it’s going to cost… well, way more than we have.”
Capri’s face shifted from curiosity to a frown, her brow furrowing as she processed the information. “What? You’re kidding. We’ve felt a few tremors, but nothing serious. Even the expert you brought in reassured us that this kind of thing is rare around here.”
“That’s not how the government sees it,” Reva muttered, leaning back in her chair. “They want us to be prepared for ‘worst-case scenarios,’ which is understandable…but we don’t have the money. Not without getting into serious debt. And I don’t know how the town’s going to react when they find out.”
“Can’t you fight it?” Capri asked.
Reva shook her head. “We could. But attorney fees would be costly, even if I did most of the legal work. In the end, we’re not likely to prevail. Public safety often trumps everything else when you take these things to court.”
Capri crossed her arms, leaning back in her seat, clearly irritated. “So, what? We’re just supposed to fork out money we don’t have because some suit in Washington says we might have a bigger earthquake?”
Reva nodded grimly. “Exactly. And if we don’t comply, they’ll shut down the buildings. Can you imagine the school closing or the chapel? The town would fall apart.”
Capri was silent for a moment, staring at the ceiling as if trying to wrestle down her frustration. “You’ve got to be kidding me. This is the last thing we need right now. Tell them we’re not Los Angeles or Dallas—Thunder Mountain doesn’t have that kind of money lying around.”
“I know, Capri. Believe me, I am fully aware of the issue,” Reva said, rubbing her temples. “But it doesn’t matter. The mandate is nonnegotiable. We either comply, or face fines. Worse, we lose the town’s resources.”
Capri blew out a breath and stood, pacing the small office. “What’s the plan, then? You can’t just break this news at the next town meeting and hope for the best. People are going to freak out. You need a strategy.”
Reva watched her friend pace, the fire in Capri’s eyes a stark contrast to how overwhelmed she felt. “True, but I just got the news. Perhaps we could organize some kind of fundraiser, get the community involved. The Knit Wit ladies will probably try to help with something…but fundraising isn’t going to begin to cover what we need.”
Capri paused mid-step, her eyes narrowing in thought. “Maybe. But you’ve got to go bigger. You need to get people fired up. Make it about saving the town, not just paying for upgrades. We’ll have to do this online and get the word out far and wide.”
Reva bit her lip, mulling over Capri’s words. “I like how you are thinking. Unlike Jackson and other nearby towns, we’ll have to drum up financial support. I’m nearly certain people would rally around helping.”
Capri turned, hands on her hips, her gaze sharp. “They have to. This town means too much to everyone to let it fall apart because of some out-of-touch government mandate. You make it personal, make it about the future. We’ll figure it out. Heavens, I’ll talk to Bodhi, maybe we can organize something at Grand Teton Whitewater—urge some tourists to pitch in. People like a good cause.”
Reva’s shoulders relaxed just a little as Capri’s words sank in. She had been so focused on the overwhelming cost and logistics that she hadn’t considered what her friends—and the community—could really accomplish when they pulled together.
“Okay,” Reva said, a small smile creeping onto her face. “You’re right. We’ll figure this out. Maybe it’s not impossible after all.”
Capri gave her a determined nod. “Dang right, it’s not. We’ve gotten through worse than this.”
Reva couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope. They might be facing another storm, but maybe, just maybe, they could weather this one too.
“I think you’re onto something,” she admitted to Capri. She stood, came around the desk, and gave her friend a quick hug. “But that doesn’t answer why you stormed into my office. What’s up?”
Capri immediately sank into Reva’s office chair and plopped her head into her hands. “I’m in trouble.”
Alarm caused Reva to stiffen. “Oh, honey. What’s the matter?”
“I’m falling for him.”
“For whom?”
Capri looked up; her face painted with misery. “Jake Carrington.”
Reva couldn’t help herself. She threw her head back and laughed. “And that’s a problem? Why?”
Tears sprouted in her friend’s eyes. “Because.”
Capri glanced down at her hands, twisting them nervously. “I didn’t expect this, Reva. Falling for Jake—it scares the heck out of me. I’m not good at this...at letting someone in. Every time he tries to get closer, I feel like I’m standing on the edge of something, and I don’t know if I’ll fall or fly. What if I mess it up? What if he sees all my flaws and runs? Or worse—what if he doesn’t run, and I’m the one who can’t handle it? I don’t know how to let go without losing control. I think I’m broken.”
Reva shook her head. “What? You think you need to do this perfectly? With no flaws, no missteps?” She bent before her friend and clasped her hands into her own, her gaze directed at Capri’s face. “Remember when my relationship with Merritt Hardwick fell apart?”
Capri nodded. “Yeah, I remember. You were a wreck for months.”
Reva felt her expression soften. “Yes, I was. And I soothed my hurting heart by numbing it with alcohol. I got myself in a world of trouble.”
Capri wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Yeah. So, what has that got to do with my situation?”
A slight smile nipped at the corners of Reva’s lips. “Let me share a profound lesson I learned when I had reached my breaking point. I was cooking one night, crying my eyes out, and thinking about my life and how everything felt fractured.” She let her smile grow a little wider. “I began to make cornbread and cracked these two eggs and suddenly, as if God was standing right before me, I heard him say, ‘Now I can use you!’”
She paused. “You see, an egg can’t be used until it’s broken.”