Claiming the Single Mom's Heart (10 page)

“She's courageous. Has a deep faith.”

“She's all that.” An invisible fist tightened around his heart. “But she's realistically aware that faith isn't a ticket to always getting what you want. Earthly life has an expiration date. A shorter one for some than others.”

They'd barely seated themselves when Irvin, accompanied by the president of the parent-teacher organization and the head of the school board, joined them. The latter introduced them to the audience then, with an encouraging smile from Sunshine, Grady rose to make his mom's presentation.

Twenty minutes later he was done and, relieved, he settled himself back into his chair. A few people had asked general questions, which he felt confident in answering. Because Elaine Hunter was the incumbent, most knew her and her track record by reputation. He'd gotten off easy.

It was rougher for Sunshine.

She'd approached the podium with apparent confidence despite her confession of nervousness. In addition to being the prettiest one on stage, she made a good showing by focusing her ten-minute presentation on issues related to the community as a whole—education, increased employment opportunities, the environment—rather than solely on the concerns of local artists.

Please get her through the questions, Lord.

That was the hardest part, not knowing what challenges might come out of left field when someone raised a hand. Friend or foe? As he'd expected, being a resident of Hunter Ridge for a mere two years and known as outspoken on behalf of the artisan community, questions directed at her were more pointed and probing than they'd been with him. But, fortunately, none were overtly hostile. When she sat down thirty minutes later, he sensed in her a relief equal to his own and gave her a reassuring wink.

Irvin, though, seemed determined to make it clear that neither Elaine Hunter nor Sunshine Carston had a realistic grasp of the needs of Hunter Ridge.

A pompous man in a loud jacket and sporting a bow tie, he didn't merely present an overview of the platform he had chosen to run on. Instead, he managed to take digs at his opponents, even going as far, under the guise of expressing sympathy at Grady's mother's “unfortunate health setback,” to raise questions as to her fitness to continue serving in public office. Mom had warned him to expect that, to not react, so he was prepared to keep his expression deliberately neutral.

But when Irvin, in occasional humorous asides, focused his sights on Sunshine, it was all Grady could do not to toss the guy off the stage. Referring to her with a patronizing smile as “our junior candidate,” he proceeded to poke holes in her presentation by twisting her words and leaving his listeners with the impression that what Irvin was saying she'd said was in reality what she'd meant.

Blood boiling, Grady kept his features schooled to bland indifference, but a covert glance in Sunshine's direction confirmed her mortification. Not so much in her expression, which remained pleasant and seemingly unaffected by Irvin's gibes, but by something Grady couldn't put his finger on. Something more subtle he was picking up on, having gotten to know her better these past few weeks.

After forty minutes Irvin finally shut his trap and sat down. Then the president of the parent-teacher organization said a few closing words and encouraged attendees to linger and meet the candidates in person.

“This has been the longest night of my life,” Sunshine whispered as he escorted her from the stage.

But before he could respond with more than a shared glance of mutual sympathy, they were drawn off to separate conversations with potential voters. An hour later, he saw Sunshine slip out and started in that direction himself, hoping to have a few words with her in the parking lot.

Unfortunately, Irvin intercepted him. But before he could speak whatever was on his mind, Grady took the lead.

“You had some good points there, Mr. Baydlin, but wouldn't you agree you overstepped?”

“In what way?”

“This is Hunter Ridge. We can afford to show our opponents common courtesy.”

“I believe voters have a right to know that your mother's health may affect her fulfilling her duties.”

“That remains to be seen. Treatments have barely started. But that's not what I'm referring to.”

“Which is?”

“The digs at Sunshine Carston were uncalled-for. This wasn't a forum intended for personal attacks.”

“I hardly consider clarifying what another candidate has publically said to be a personal attack.”

“What would you call deliberately twisting someone's words to suit your own agenda when there's no opportunity for rebuttal?”

Irvin chuckled. “It's obvious you're not well schooled in campaign strategies, young man. You have to seize opportunities when they arise. Obviously, you need to leave the politicking to your mother.”

“My mother wouldn't have given her blessing to your treatment of Ms. Carston, and you know it.”

“So tell me again—” Irvin pushed open the exit door and stepped into the night, his eyes narrowing as he looked back at Grady in open speculation. “Which candidate is it you're campaigning for?”

Chapter Ten

“I
t's been days since that parent-teacher meeting,” Sunshine told jewelry maker Benton Mason as they rearranged the Co-op gallery's display cases. “Yet I can still hear Irvin's barbed remarks. The way he twisted my words.”

“You knew what you might be getting into,” the heavyset bearded man reminded, “when you were asked to represent the artisan community in the town council race.”

She carefully lifted the sculpture of a—well, she wasn't exactly sure what it was. But it had an interesting texture and pleasing lines that drew the eye. “I suppose. But at the time I filed, Elaine Hunter was the lone candidate. She would never have publicly sliced and diced me like Irvin did. There wasn't an opportunity to challenge his assertions.”

“You'll get that at this Friday's engagement with the veterans' group.”

She did
not
look forward to that. “I won't play dirty like Irvin.”

“You don't have to.” Benton moved the heavy pedestal several feet away, under more direct lighting, and she placed the sculpture once again atop it. “My wife and I thought you did great last week. You presented your ideas well. Came across as reasonable and civic minded. Gave voters the opportunity to see that the artists new to this community aren't the enemy.”

She grimaced. “Then Irvin twisted everything I said and left them with a totally different impression.”

“You underestimate those in attendance.” He nodded to an acrylic still life on a nearby easel and she lifted it down so he could move the tripod stand. “I sensed a discomfort around me when Baydlin starting taking potshots at you. Oh, sure, some will listen to what he said and form an opinion in his favor without examining the facts. But not all. Far from all.”

“I hope you're right.”

“You need to toughen up, Sunshine.” He took the canvas from her and placed it back on the newly relocated easel. He knew all about toughening up, having served in the armed forces and now working through PTSD-related issues. “Only five weeks until voters hit the polls. It may get rough.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I don't think I'm cut out for this.”

“Sure you are. I have every confidence in you. You're passionate about meeting the needs of the community, not just the artists. You have a strong sense of right and wrong. A zeal for justice.” Benton placed his hands on his hips. “Baydlin took potshots at Elaine Hunter, too, remember? About her health and how she won't keep her commitments if she wins the election. How she's not currently keeping her commitment to the town council.”

“That was nasty.”

“Do you think it was easy for Grady Hunter to sit there and listen to that?”

“I guess not.” She reached for a feather duster and brushed the top of a glass counter.

“Of course not. But I did see him speaking to Irvin after you left. By the look on their faces, he may have been clearing the air in private. At some point you may need to do that with Irvin, too.”

“And let him use that against me in a public forum, as well?”

“Hey.” He touched her arm and she faced him. “When you were asked by the Artists' Co-op members to run for office, did you pray about it at all?”

“Of course.”

“And the answer was...?”

“That getting elected to the town council was a long shot, but I might educate the community about the needs of newcomers to town who earn a living with their artwork.”

“And has that calling changed?”

“I guess not.”

“It's not about winning, Sunshine. But you know that.”

She did. Despite Elaine's health being in question, Grady's mother was the favored candidate. Sunshine had known that from the start. Irvin filing to run and his less-than-courteous campaigning had caused her to lose focus, her sense of purpose.

“Now, didn't you have errands to run this afternoon? I have things covered here.”

“Thank you. And thanks for the pep talk.”

She ran upstairs to her apartment, paused to see if Tori had made headway on her family research—she'd sent off email queries to county and state offices to follow a few leads—then grabbed a jacket to ward off the chill. October already. That seemed impossible.

Once outside the gallery, she noticed Grady's SUV parked in front of the neighboring wild game supply store, the shop's door standing open. Unlike most days, though, there was no sound of pounding and sawing, so thankfully that phase might be over. She'd see Grady tonight—for a final review of the presentation slides—but should she stop in to say hello now?

She'd taken a few steps in that direction when a gruff male voice called her name, drawing her to a halt. A glowering Gideon Edlow, bundled up against the wind, crossed the road and came to stand in front of her.

“Hello, Gideon.”

Not much taller than she was, the talented potter eyed her with distaste, a wisp of a mustache and the goatee on his pointed chin almost trembling with suppressed outrage.

“For someone who's a candidate for the town council, you sure are hard to get hold of.” He rammed his hands into his jacket pockets. “I've stopped by the Co-op gallery numerous times the past several days and you're either occupied with customers or gallivanting off somewhere. Like now.”

She tensed. Accommodating customers and taking time to run errands or meet with community members was unacceptable? “You should have left a message. I would have returned your call.”

“I'd prefer to speak with you face-to-face.”

“What's on your mind, then?”

“For one thing, you've gotten awfully cozy with your town council opponents.”

“Irvin Baydlin and I are real buds.”

Gideon's mouth twisted. “I'm talking about Elaine Hunter's son, not that pompous slime, Baydlin. I don't consider him competition even after that speech of his at the parent-teacher meeting.”

Gideon had attended? She hadn't seen him. He wasn't a parent or a teacher, so he must have been lurking in the shadows.

Suddenly conscious of the open door to the adjacent store, she lowered her voice, hoping Gideon would follow her cue. “For a few weeks Mr. Hunter will be representing his mother at gatherings hosted for the candidates. I'm sure I'll see him and Mr. Baydlin often between now and election day. I intend to keep interactions friendly. But I would hardly call that ‘getting cozy.'”

Gideon
had
seen her, though, visiting with Grady at the park the day he'd rescued Tessa from the slide mishap. How long might he have lingered out of sight to watch them? They hadn't done anything inappropriate or incriminating. Surely he didn't know of their meetings at Grady's place. Did he?

“I don't think you understand what's at stake here, Sunshine.” To her alarm, he didn't keep his voice down. “You've lived in Hunter Ridge two years. I've lived here five and, believe me, people in this town have kicked me around more times than I can count. Put me down because I choose to make my way in the world by adding beauty to it. Not marching around in the wilderness with a gun, bow or fishing rod.”

She winced as he jerked his head in the direction of Grady's new store.

“I'm aware,” she said quietly, again hoping he'd follow suit, “that the artists in this community face numerous challenges. And I think you'd have to agree that I've taken a lead in attempting to bridge that gap, to approach the town council numerous times on behalf of our segment of the population.”

Not merely bellyaching like Gideon was known to do.

The man snorted. “And where's that gotten us? Nowhere. Friday night you barely touched on our demands. I wanted to see you shake a fist and challenge the voters. Point out the prejudice they hold against us.”

“You think that would win voters?”

“What I think is that you're forgetting why you were chosen to represent us.” He wagged a finger at her. “Not that
I
chose you. You're too young. Too inexperienced. Too naive.”

His face flushing, Gideon grabbed her upper arms and roughly shook her. Almost unbalancing her. Then, with a surprised wheeze of protest, his own arms were grasped and he was spun around to face a grim Grady Hunter.

“Keep your hands to yourself, Mr. Edlow. Or I'll stand as a witness for Ms. Carston if she wants to file attempted assault charges.”

“Stay out of this, Hunter,” Gideon sputtered. “This is none of your business.”

“When you laid a hand on her, you made it my business.”

Gideon's fists clenched, and for a horrified moment, Sunshine feared he'd take a swing at Grady. But with a glare in her direction, he stepped back. “You and your Boy Scout here think this is over, Sunshine. But it's not. You aren't fit to represent our arts community in public office and you're not fit to run the Co-op.”

With a murderous scowl in Grady's direction, he charged back across the street in the direction from which he'd come.

* * *

“Are you okay?”

From the stunned look on her face, she wasn't. But that revealing expression was immediately replaced by one of annoyance.

“You shouldn't have interfered, Grady.” Her words came softly, yet firmly. “I was handling the situation just fine.”

She was mad at
him
?

“He grabbed you, Sunshine. He was shaking you.”

“He wasn't hurting me. He was venting. He's not a happy man. Never has been. And he's always resented the fact that I was hired to manage the Co-op rather than him.”

“You didn't feel threatened when he grabbed you? Your face told another story.”

“He startled me. That's all.” She cast a regretful look in the direction in which Gideon had disappeared. “I wish you hadn't interfered. It'll make things harder for me.”

“Excuse me? I don't think it's acceptable for a man to shake a woman like that.” He studied her. “Do you?”

For a moment he thought she wasn't going to answer. Then, almost reluctantly, she responded. “No. But at times my ex-husband could get a little...physical.”

Something inside Grady jolted.

“Not that he ever hurt me,” she quickly added. “But like Gideon, he had a temper.”

“I have a temper, too, but you don't see me shaking women until their teeth rattle.”

She motioned impatiently. “Look, Grady, I don't want to discuss this. My ex is out of my life. It's in the past. So let's let it drop.”

She started to move around him, but he sidestepped to block her way. “Not just yet. Your ex-husband may be long gone, but Gideon is in the here and now. What did you mean my ‘interfering' will make things harder on you?”

“I'll not discuss my personal life on a street corner.” She gave him a pointed look, then flashed a bright smile to a woman with a toddler passing by them.

He motioned to the open door of the Hunter store. “Is that private enough? The contractor and his crew knocked off at noon today.”

With an exasperated sigh, she preceded him into the shadowed interior. He closed the glass-paned door behind them, but she moved farther into the building, taking in the renovated space. He watched in silence.

Eventually she looked back at him. “Wow. The exposed brick and refinished woodwork are amazing.”

It did look good. Ted and his crew had outdone themselves in giving him what he'd envisioned. Display cases would be delivered next week. He'd gone out on a limb to have enlargements made of some of his own wildlife photos. Framing would be completed before the midmonth grand opening. No, they wouldn't be for sale, but somehow the thought of putting them on the wall here—instead of a stranger's work purchased off the internet—gave him a deep sense of satisfaction.

But he wasn't letting Sunshine off the hook.

“How is it that my stepping in when Gideon was out of line going to make things harder for you?”

She looked away from him, moving to where she could run her fingertips along the polished surface of wood shelving. “You have to understand, Grady, that Gideon is a force to be reckoned with.”

“Or at least he
thinks
he is.” Gideon's bluster didn't faze him.

“When the Hunter Ridge Artists' Cooperative was getting off the ground, the members of the fledgling organization hired me. Gideon had wanted the position for himself but, for obvious reasons, the membership felt neither his personality nor his experience were suitably matched. He resented that. Resents me.”

“So he's made it rough on you from the beginning.”

“He and a couple of others who look up to him. For each step forward that I attempt to take, they push back. Fortunately, I have the full support of the majority of the membership, including our officers, but dealing with Gideon has never been pleasant.”

“From what I overheard, he has a chip on his shoulder. But that's no excuse for grabbing you like he did.”

“No, but I'm fine. Unhurt. His outbursts are nothing new.”

“No? So what do you think he was driving at when he said this isn't over and that you're unfit to run the Co-op or run for office? That sounds like a veiled threat to me.”

“I won't pretend to understand Gideon's thinking. But knowing him, he'll attempt to further slander me at the weekly Co-op meetings. Behind the scenes he'll try to win more members in whatever way he can to force me out.”

“Isn't that illegal?”

“He's never been shy in letting me know that he wants to unseat me from managing the Co-op. I think the membership asking me to represent them on the town council was the last straw.”

He leaned against an oak checkout counter, arms folded. “I don't like this one bit.”

“I appreciate your concern but—no offense intended—like Gideon said, this is none of your business. I'd appreciate it if you'd stay out of it in the future.”