35. Nash #2
I can feel my heart hammering in my chest as the mayor’s words echo in the room.
She’s right. That’s exactly what I’ve said.
And it feels like the floor is dropping out from under me.
I didn’t think this through. I didn’t think any of it through.
But it doesn’t matter now, does it? This is my mess to own.
And I can feel the weight of every single person in this room waiting for me to fall apart.
And maybe I deserve to.
“Yes.”
“And Miss Long was involved in this deception.”
Tessa’s head snaps toward the council, her expression tightening as every eye in the room shifts toward her.
“She didn’t plan it,” I say quickly. “I did.”
Anger ripples through the crowd.
A man near the back laughs harshly. “So the whole thing was a stunt?”
“Typical McCoy move.”
“Or typical Long move,” someone mutters.
The words bounce around the chamber as sparks hitting dry brush.
I look at Tessa again, and it’s like a punch to the gut.
She’s gone pale. Her face is hollow, the color draining from her like she’s fading.
And her eyes…
It’s not just anger anymore.
It’s betrayal.
The same look I’ve seen in the mirror a thousand times, when I realize I’ve screwed up beyond repair. I’ve hurt her. And I’m so damn angry that I didn’t think this through. I didn’t think about how it would feel for her to have the whole town turning on her, thinking she’s in on it.
She deserves better than this.
But it’s too late. It’s already done.
And I don’t know if I can do anything to make it right.
“I thought I could control the situation,” I say, forcing the ashy-tasting words out. “Turns out I was wrong.”
Mayor Caldwell presses her fingertips against her temples, as though she’s trying to keep the room from spinning apart.
“Well,” she says finally, lifting her head, “that certainly explains a great deal.”
The murmur in the chamber swells again.
She raises the gavel.
Bang.
“Order. Everyone, sit down.”
The authority in her voice cuts through the noise just enough that people start lowering themselves back into their chairs, though the whispering continues as wind through dry grass.
Mayor Caldwell fixes her attention on me.
“Mr. McCoy,” she says carefully, “you are telling this council that the engagement between yourself and Miss Long was fabricated in order to influence how this town, and this council, perceived your development proposal.”
I swallow hard. “Yes.”
“And Miss Long agreed to participate in this arrangement.”
A hundred eyes swing toward the back of the room again.
Tessa hasn’t moved.
“She agreed to help,” I say. “But it was my idea. The whole thing.”
Mayor Caldwell glances briefly toward Tessa before returning her attention to me.
“Miss Long,” she says.
Tessa straightens slowly where she stands near the door.
Even from across the room, I can see the tension in her shoulders.
“Were you aware that Mr. McCoy intended to represent this engagement as genuine during council discussions regarding the Juniper Creek proposal?”
The room holds its breath.
Tessa nods. “Yes.”
A ripple of reactions moves through the crowd.
Mayor Caldwell nods once, her expression tightening. “Very well.” She folds her hands together on the table. “I think it is important for everyone present to understand the seriousness of what has just been disclosed.”
The chamber goes still.
“This council has spent weeks reviewing a proposal tied directly to land currently under dispute between two of Buckhorn’s founding families.
During that time, the public and members of this council were led to believe that a private agreement between those families might be developing through this engagement.
” Her gaze shifts between me and Tessa. “You are now telling us that belief was based on a false premise.”
“Yes,” I say.
Someone in the back mutters something that sounds a lot like damn right it was.
Mayor Caldwell ignores it.
“That deception may have influenced public perception of the dispute and the council’s expectations regarding its resolution,” she continues. “Which means we will now have to review several aspects of this matter again.”
The room erupts in protest.
“Are you kidding?”
“So we start over?”
“This is ridiculous, shut it down—”
Bang.
The gavel cracks sharply against the wood.
“Enough.” Her voice carries the kind of calm that usually means patience has run out. “This council will not conduct a shouting match in the middle of a legal matter.”
The room quiets again.
Mayor Caldwell exhales slowly. “The Juniper Creek development proposal is already under review pending a land survey and historical documentation. Given the new information presented, the council will also be reviewing whether any statements made during previous hearings were materially influenced by this… misrepresentation.”
I swallow hard as the hammer hits me.
“We will consult with the county before determining how that affects the timeline of the review process.”
She glances toward the back of the room again.
“Miss Long, as an administrative employee of Town Hall, I will expect a written statement from you regarding your involvement in this matter.”
“Yes, Mayor.”
The mayor turns back to me. “And Mr. McCoy… I would strongly suggest that any future statements you make regarding development proposals before this council be strictly factual.”
A few people snort quietly.
“That would probably be a good idea.”
The corner of her mouth tightens. “Yes. I believe it would.”
She raises the gavel one last time.
“This meeting is adjourned. The council will reconvene once the county survey and additional documentation regarding the Juniper Creek parcel have been reviewed.”
The gavel comes down.
“Until then, this matter is closed for public debate within this chamber.”
The moment the meeting ends, the room explodes.
People stand. Chairs scrape. Voices rise into overlapping arguments as Buckhorn begins dissecting the confession in real time.
Through all of it, my attention drifts back to the door.
Tessa is still standing there.
The look she gives me lands harder than anything anyone in this room said.
Because it isn’t anger, it’s hurt, and somehow that’s worse.
By the time I push through the doors outside, Tessa is gone.
Everything I've just done starts to sink in, and it feels like the world is closing in around me. I’m sinking… drowning…
A few minutes later, Boone and Dallas find me outside, their faces still stuck somewhere between shock and disbelief.
They stop in front of me, both of them looking at me like I’m a stranger. Boone opens his mouth to say something, but it takes him a few seconds to get the words out, like he’s processing everything in real time.
“Well,” Boone says finally. “That explains a lot.”
Dallas, who’s always the quieter one, shakes his head slowly, eyes narrowed in confusion. “You really went nuclear.”
My heart races. I want to tell them it’s fine, that it was the right call even if it seemed insane, and I definitely should have spoken to Tessa first… but the words won’t come.
I’m stuck in the mess I’ve made, and it’s starting to hit harder now. I force myself to respond. “I told the truth.”
“You detonated the truth,” Boone corrects.
He’s pissed, I can tell, but I don’t know if it’s at me or the whole damn situation. He’s always had that way of calming things down, but right now, he doesn’t know how to fix this mess.
I lean against the railing outside Town Hall, feeling the weight lift slightly from my chest, but not enough to clear the storm brewing inside me.
The snow falls gently, drifting across Main Street, but my mind’s still reeling.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Boone asks with frustration. “You can’t just drop a bomb like that on the whole town and expect it to be fine.”
Dallas doesn’t ask. Instead, he studies me with an intensity that makes me feel even more exposed than I already am. After a long pause, he speaks, the words coming out of nowhere, and they hit me like a freight train.
“You’re in love with her.”
I blink, the world momentarily freezing around me. “What?”
Dallas just shrugs like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “You just destroyed your own reputation and project, to try and protect hers… even if the way you did it was completely foolish.”
Boone nods slowly, his expression unreadable. “Yeah. You really went for broke.”
I look away toward the street. Dallas's words settle in, heavier than anything else that’s been said tonight. I’m not sure how to answer, how to make sense of any of it anymore.
“I think I might leave,” I say, the thought escaping my mouth before I can stop it.
Both of them go still. They weren’t expecting that. Neither of them speaks for a moment, letting the words sink in.
“Leave?” Boone repeats, thick with surprise. “What are you talking about?”
I take a deep breath, turning to face both of them, letting the cold air cut through me, clear my head. “Yeah. Like Clay. It might be time to spread my wings, to see if I can progress somewhere else. This place doesn’t want what I’m trying to build. I need to find somewhere I can grow.”
Dallas and Boone exchange a long look, and I know exactly what they’re thinking. But I’m not waiting for their approval.
This decision’s mine, even if I’m not sure if it’s the right one yet.
I turn away before they can say anything, because this time, I’m the one who needs to take control.