Chapter Eight
Alicia
Ihad my coat zipped all the way. With my hood up, I had to turn my head like Batman to see from side-to-side. Everything was quiet now that I’d stopped trudging and crunching my way to what might have been the middle of the wetland.
Little piles of snow weighed down bent blades of sepia-toned grass.
A cardinal hopped from the limb of one tree to the next, its light-weight body supported on a thin twig.
There were bunny and deer tracks in trails all over the ground.
My boot prints were the only signs of humanity on the otherwise undisturbed earth.
And that was only what I could see. Then there was the plant life diversity.
Every element of this marsh worked together to serve our planet for possibly as far back as twelve thousand years.
These acres of land were being used in exactly the way they needed to be. It would continue that way, only if we were able to save it.
If I was able to save it.
“No pressure,” I mumbled.
Turning, I started back for the road where my car was parked. Ready to begin the task I was here to do.
The head librarian, Mrs. Simons, had been more welcoming than Deb Creger at Town Hall.
Wrinkles deepened around Deb’s pinched lips with every sentence I spoke, her gray eyes narrowing at my leaflets and charts.
But I’d dealt with skeptical locals before.
I could handle a wary town clerk. I wouldn’t move everyone to my side, but I’d try.
“My firm was planning to have the marsh purchased by one of our benefactors when it went to public auction. Our plan was to place protective covenants on the deed. But when it didn’t go to auction, we looked into it and found that there was already a development proposal,” I explained.
“Why is the protection important?” she asked, skimming over the papers on her desk.
One corner of my mouth lifted. “Oh my goodness, I will try to not get too passionate about wetlands.”
Some of the tightness relaxed from her expression.
I took it as encouragement to lean into my most earnest self.
“I am of the mindset that all wetlands should be protected, and Michigan as a state has been protecting them since the late 70s. But that doesn’t mean that we aren’t still losing them to development and such.
Wetlands home such a vast collection of species—both in plant life and animal life, as well as being water filtration powerhouses.
Being this close to Lake Michigan, it makes the role this chunk of earth is providing that much more important. ”
Her scowl was slowly thawing.
“We are so lucky here in Michigan,” I continued. “Being surrounded by such a significant percentage of the earth’s freshwater supply, but that also means that we need to be good stewards of that water and protect it.”
“But you’re from Chicago,” she said.
“I live there, but I grew up just outside of Mackinaw.”
Her eyebrows lifted. She assessed me with fresh eyes, a part of the tribe.
“So, not only do I know how important the lake is to the planet, but to people living right here. It’s a source of community and fun, but also tourism.” I gestured to the stack of pamphlets offering tours and attractions next to her desk.
She nodded. “It’s our primary industry.”
“It is for my hometown too.”
“What do they want to build?”
“A resort, with a golf course and little amusement park, and as a tourist location, I think that’s great. I even sent them a couple of properties currently listed to consider moving their plans to. Each of those is currently owned by a resident of the area and would benefit someone here directly.”
Deb tapped on the map spread out on her desk. “Why here then?”
At this point in the conversation, I had to be very careful. I lowered my voice, leaning close enough to smell her peony-scented perfume. “All I’m allowed to say is that it does not appear to be selling at market value.”
She tilted her head and considered everything. “That’s state land.”
“It is.”
“Why would the state sell the land at a discount?”
Internally, I screamed, Because the developer is the son of a state congressman!
Externally, I stated, “Legally, I have said all I’m allowed to say.”
I didn’t know exactly what she inferred to make her sit back in her chair assessing me and the information I had provided.
Maybe it was that a stranger with money was coming to take advantage of the area and its people.
Maybe it was a general blue-collar distrust of “the man.” But there it was.
Deb had just moved over to my side. Her jaw set determinedly, and her shoulders squared.
She might not know why the land was being sold for cheap, but she knew it was an underhanded deal that did not benefit her friends and neighbors.
“So, anyway”—I kept my voice even despite the thrill of victory—“that’s why I’m here. Not to stop the development, my firm and I see how it could enrich the county, but to inform the community that its location should be changed.”
“Hmm, my son would agree.” Again, she tapped the map, this time on a neighboring property. “That’s his therapy stables.”
I rested my chin on my hand. “Oh, you’re the same Cregers.”
“We are.”
“Is he a therapist?”
“His friend Missy is. She moved back a few years back and convinced Emmett to expand from boarding. Now, equestrian therapy is all they do.”
“That’s wonderful.”
Deb folded her hands on her desk and nodded. “Well, he’s gonna want to hear all of this. Let me introduce you.”
“That’d be amazing. I was planning to talk to all the neighboring landowners. An introduction to your son would be so helpful.”
“Can you meet me there at four-thirty?”
I checked my watch. Furgie needed to be let out beforehand, but it was possible. “I can. Thank you so much, Mrs. Creger.”
“Deb, please.”
I pressed a hand to my chest. “Alicia.”
“Do you play euchre?”
My brain screeched like a record, skipping at the change in subject. “Yeah, of course.”
She gave a decided jerk of her head. “You’ll have to come to a euchre club meeting with me.”
“Euchre club?”
“Yeah, it’s just a bunch of us ladies playing cards and chatting. But it still beats the Internet in spreading information.”
“Sounds perfect.”
Leaving my new buddy, I smiled and waved over my shoulder. As I walked out of the building, I tugged my white, knitted cap lower over my ears. My boots crunched on the frozen sidewalks. I scanned for patches of ice while nearly running to take shelter in the mildly warmer cab of my car.
The air blasted cold through my vents after I turned the key in the ignition.
I took a couple of seconds to map out my destinations from Town Hall to my place, and then to the Creger stables.
I had roughly twenty minutes to let my dog out and be there on time.
Putting the car in drive, I made tracks.
In a robotic voice, my car read Sadie’s text aloud. Any new ex-husband sightings?
I sent back the longer text dictating to my car.
Fortunately, no, but I’m heading home now.
And you know, we share a wall! But honestly, it’s been a couple of days, and I feel a little more rational about it.
Now that the shock has passed. It had been four days since running into Remi—and kinda sorta climbing him like a literal tree.
I was definitely not over it. I braced myself for impact every time I left my rental or got back to it.
So far, the only time I’d seen him was the day after, when he was wearing scrubs with a tuxedo design and a little bowtie around his neck on his way to his mailbox.
“What is going on with you, Remi?” I asked from the safety of my half of the duplex.
But otherwise, he was gone a lot. And so was I. Avoiding him was easier than I thought it would be.
Me: I have been hella productive because of it though. I’m gonna save these wetlands and get back to Chicago.
Sadie: That’s right you are! And hurry cause I miss you! How’s our little Furg?
I could practically see the pout that would be on Sadie’s face if I were talking to her in person.
Me: She’s doing all right. I’ll keep you posted, but I’m sure the antibiotics are helping. What about you? Anything interesting going on there?
There was a pause as I turned onto the dirt road leading to my duplex. When Remi’s empty carport came into view, I exhaled the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
Sadie: Don’t be mad.
“God damn it.” I groaned and squeezed the steering wheel so tight the leather creaked under my grip.
Me: Tell me it’s not fuckboy.
Sadie: It is fuckboy.
Me: Why??????
Putting my car in park, I snatched my phone from my purse and hit dial.
She answered, “I have a very unfortunate type.”
“If you wanna fuck a fuckboy, then go for it, but you can’t want to date a fuckboy.”
This man had caused my friend a couple of teary nights drinking red wine and watching Pride and Prejudice—both the 2005 and the BBC versions. He was a spectacular lawyer at our firm, as well as a spectacular dipshit with my bestie’s heart. She just couldn’t stop falling back into his bed.
Watching the pattern repeat itself broke my heart by proxy.
But then, one of my favorite things about Sadie was her forgiving heart. So I put a lot of blame on lawyer, fuckboy-extraordinaire. He could just stop messing with her.
“I don’t want to date him . . . I just . . . God, he’s sweet when it’s just the two of us, and I like it.” She groaned.
“Yeah, but he’s just full of bullshit, and that’s how he gets you.”
“I know. I need you to hurry up and get back here because I listen to you better than I do myself.”
“You want to see the best in everyone.” I opened the side door to Furgie wagging the back half of her body and whining. “Hi, sweet pea!”
“Aw, I can hear her being adorable.”
“She is too. She’s feeling so much better. Remi did a good job.”
“You said that.”
“He made her feel comfortable during the visit too. I’m not surprised he’s good at this.” It was a challenge to clip the leash to Furgie’s collar with her excited wiggling.
“No one is all bad, right?”
“He wasn’t bad. We were just”—I struggled to find the word I wanted while I chose not to look to deeply into my knee-jerk reaction to defend him—“dumb. Anyway, I don’t even know why I brought him up. Can we go back to talking about you?”
She huffed. “Sure.”
“So, what happened?”
“He was at the office Friday, and he was gorgeous and flirty, and now he’s texting—”
“Have you agreed to go out to dinner with him?”
“Dinner?” she scoffed. “You mean drinks? No, he hasn’t asked.”
“What are you gonna do if he does?”
Furgie hopped from the shoveled walk to the snow-covered yard.
“I don’t know,” Sadie answered.
I exhaled a puff of steam, wondering how best to proceed. “I know you want to believe that he can change—that you see a lot of good in him. But even if he did, could you trust it at this point? After the highs and lows he’s put you through.”
“Probably not.”
I hated how deflated she sounded.
“You know you are deserving of a hot man to be totally into, right? And you deserve for that hot man to be totally excited about you too.”
“I know. I’ll stop texting him.”
“I think it’s for the best.”
“I think we just accelerated my Pride and Prejudice night.”
“Let’s stream it together tonight. My Wi-Fi is working because of you.”
Her voice brightened a bit. “I’d like that.”
A few minutes later, I put Furgie inside after running around with her. I snatched a granola bar out of the cupboard.
Around a mouthful of food, I mumbled on my way out the door, “I’m sorry, Furg, I’ll be home as soon as I can. But I have to go.”
She gave me the saddest brown eyes as the latch clicked into place.
Still feeling guilty, I hopped back into my car and started following the directions to the stables.
When the cellular connection sputtered out, I was grateful I’d snapped a screenshot of the directions.
Ten minutes later, I arrived following the plowed winding driveway until a large barn and stable came into view.
Behind it sat a house with a high-pitched roof.
“Shoot. Nice digs here, Mr. Creger,” I said to no one.
I wasn’t sure where to go, but there were a number of older model cars, all of them rather rusted. As well as two or three newer ones. One of them could be Deb’s—she might already be inside a building.
Glancing at my watch, I confirmed that I was only two minutes early.
I zipped my coat to my chin and stepped out into the cold following the trail of packed snow to the empty stable.
The smell of livestock was strong in the warm building.
It wasn’t overwhelming, just present. One of those details of rural living I’d forgotten in the past couple of years of city life.
I continued through the open door at the other end to the large barn.
A sliding door was open enough for a horse to walk through, it gently banged into the building over and over catching on the wind.
Inside, there was a collection of teens in helmets sitting atop their mounts, and a man with shaggy dark hair peaking from under his helmet. He sat ramrod straight.
There was one other man, and the sight of him set my nervous system into overdrive instantly—my stomach dropped, my palms went clammy, and my cheeks heated.
Once again, I was unexpectedly in the same place as Remi in a long-sleeve T-shirt clinging to his biceps and chest. His thighs strained against his dark blue pants that were practically painted on.
They probably served a purpose for horseback riding, but when he stood in the stirrups they were .
. . There was nothing left to the imagination.
Not that I needed to use my imagination. I’d seen his ass before.
Not that I was thinking about it.
But it was right there and . . . sculpted.
The reins hung from his easy grip, and I felt an echo of it on my upper thigh.
He rode a gray speckled horse from one jump to another, his body following the movement with confidence and a grace that belied his large frame.
But this time, I wasn’t caught completely off-guard, and I took control over the bombardment of emotions and stress at just the sight of him.
I could even detach enough from my feelings to enjoy how he’d filled out over the past couple of years.
Everything about him was broader—his shoulders, chest, abdomen.
It was rude how well he sat a horse. It wasn’t a skill I found particularly hot, but there was something annoyingly romantic about a man in a saddle.
Obviously, I still struggled with his presence, but at least now I was more prepared to encounter this man who had only gotten unfairly fucking hotter in the intervening years. The same way I could mentally prepare to encounter a flu shot.
Quietly, I insisted that it was perfectly safe for me to acknowledge all of this. I could appreciate him from afar, the way I would any man. But he wasn’t just any man. And while it was undeniable that I was attracted to him, it wasn’t entirely safe either.
Rude.
Fucking Rude.