Fire at Sunset: The Firefighters of Darling Bay 4 (20 page)

Elbert said, “I
know
. But no disrespect, ma’am, the thing is—a lot of us have found out how right the damn tourists are.”
 

A light laugh rippled around the room. Daisy, Fiona’s best friend, leaned over the arm of her wheelchair and whispered in Fiona’s ear, “Best show in town.”
 

The mayor, even redder now, said, “Would you care to explain that, Elbert?”
 

Elbert stuck a thumb under the strap of his overalls. “There are more’n a couple of us, ma’am, who’ve kind of seen the light, as it were, and it took the damn tourists pissing us off for us to figure it out. Pete Wegman, Jesse Sunol, and me, we went down the rope one day to shoo ‘em off for good.”
 

That must have been something to see, thought Fiona. Three old men, climbing down that rope, kicking away from the cliff-face, dangling over the sand. It was something Fiona hadn’t done in years, and she was an easy forty years younger than the youngest rancher in question.
 

“When we got down there, one nekkid damn tourist dared us to take off our clothes.”
 

A light laugh went around the packed council chambers. Everyone else was enjoying this as much as Fiona was.
 

Elbert shrugged. “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it, is what I always say. And I’m here to say, the body is a beautiful thing.” He unclipped one strap of his overalls. “And to feel the sun where it don’t normally shine, to feel the ocean breeze caress your…well, lemme tell you, it’s nice.” He unfastened the other strap. Gasps rose to meet the sound of giggles in the room.
 

Fiona whispered to Daisy, “He wouldn’t.”
 

Daisy just shook her head.
 

Elbert’s overalls hit the polished wooden floor of the city chambers. His faded, blue engineer’s cap was next to come off, his gray buzz cut standing at attention underneath. Then he started undoing the buttons on his blue, button-down shirt.
 

One by one, the buttons opened. His chest hair was as gray as the hair on his head.
 

Daisy held her hand over her eyes. “I can’t. I just can’t.”
 

Fiona poked her in the shoulder. “You have to.”
 

Elbert was now in front of the crowd, wearing only tighty-whities which were no longer either tight or white. His skinny, wrinkled body was surprisingly tanned. He held himself proudly and tucked his thumb into the elastic of his underwear.
 

The mayor gripped the podium so hard it rocked on its base. “
Mr. Romo.
We will have our community discussion without visual aid assistance, thank you very much!” The microphone squealed with feedback.
 

Elbert shook his head. “It’s a point I gotta make. We voted, and the boys picked me, seein’ as I have the biggest package.”
 

Next to Fiona, Daisy squeaked, her hand still over her eyes. Someone did a drum roll with their fingers on the back of a chair.

And then Elbert Romo dropped his last remaining piece of clothing.
 

Chaos erupted. Some stood—others remained in their seats, immobilized by laughter. Some cheered, others clapped.
 

Both hands over his head, Elbert turned in a slow circle. He waited for the room to quiet and then said, “My point is, well. Look at me. Eighty-nine and a half. And thanks to a life of good hard work and a bit of time in the sun, I’m looking fit as a fiddle. I’m
proud
of my body, ladies and gentlemen, and being in the great outdoors with it is probably gonna let me live forever. Down with the ban on public nudity.” He drove his fist up in the air. “
Naked is good! Naked is right! Naked is good! Naked is right!”
He marched down the middle aisle, chanting, pumping his fist. By the time he hit the back door, he’d been joined in the chant by so many people that the overhead rafters shook with the noise.
 

Fiona’s stomach hurt from laughing.
 

It took Mayor Finley ten more minutes of gavel-rapping to get order restored, and even then it was clear she knew she’d lost. She directed her words to the line of city council members sitting to the left of the stage. “We don’t even need to put it to a vote, do we?”
 

Laughter was the answer she got.
 

“Fine. Public nudity—at Pirate’s Cove, and
no place else
—will not be prosecuted. Moving on.” She ignored the applause. “That’s enough for tonight. Grace, thanks for doing the minutes. They’ll be up on the website tomorrow, folks. In two weeks, we’ll be talking about the lighthouse.”
 

Fiona stopped clapping. She glanced at Daisy and then back at the mayor.
 

“Fiona Lynde, I’m looking at you.”
 

Fiona gasped. She tugged on her earring, schooling herself not to take it off. What she really wanted was the soothing warmth of the metal between her fingers. But instead she folded her hands in her lap.
 

“Yes, you,” continued the mayor. “I want to hear about that plan you keep pestering me about, the one to bring down the lighthouse and put in an accessible public garden.”
 

It was just an
idea
. She hadn’t pestered the mayor about it. Not officially, not really. She might have mentioned it a couple of times. In person and in email. That was all.
 

“And who was it talking about turning it into a museum? Abe Atwell, was that you?”
 

Fiona’s stomach lurched.
Abe Atwell?
She turned in her seat and scanned the room.
 

God, there he was.

A man playing cat’s cradle.
 

She would have bet that game couldn’t be sexy. Right? But if anyone could make something childish like that sexy, it would be Abe Atwell, damn him. There was just
something
about the rugged harbormaster, slouched back in his chair, boots kicked out ahead of him, his hands moving with that white piece of string—he could have been making nets or tying ropes. It looked right. And it made her heat up inside, in an embarrassing, alarming way.
 

Concentrate,
she told herself. This was about the old wooden lighthouse. About making things right. Not about the way her heart raced when she watched his fingers. He kept his eyes down, his face thunderous. He obviously wanted to be called upon as much as she did.
 

Daisy whispered, “Maybe you’ll finally talk to him now.”
 

Fiona shook her head once. Hard. No way. She hadn’t managed to have an idiotic crush without speaking to him for years for nothing. She couldn’t ruin her track record. She cleared her throat and said as loudly as she could, “It was only an idea.”
 

The mayor didn’t hear her. “Fiona, what was that?”
 

The room’s chat quieted. Fiona could feel Abe’s gaze on the back of her head. Had he ever even looked at her before?

“It was just an idea,” Fiona said. She bit her bottom lip and said more quietly, “It’s a good idea, though.”
 

“Great. Put together a proposal and present it at the next meeting. Abe, do the same.” She lowered her yellow-framed glasses and looked around the room. “They’re the only two so far who have approached me about the Coast Guard turning over the lighthouse to our local government, but the forum will be open. The council will decide in closed session after that meeting what we’re going to do with the building. That’s all, folks. Please keep your clothes on, at least until you get past the security of your own front door, and have a good night.”

Fiona felt Daisy clutch her forearm. “You’ll be great! You can rehearse your pitch with me, and you’ll finally get that eyesore torn down.”
 

Fiona, though, just drew her black cowboy boots back out of the way of Mrs. Luby, who stepped over them with small, pinched steps. What if people hated her idea? What if they ended up hating
her
? She tugged off her earring and worked the metal between her fingers.
 

And the idea that Abe might also be presenting?
 

The hook of the earring snapped between her clenched fingers.

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