What She'd Do for Love

“What about the rest of the route, beyond the town?” His expression grew wary, though she couldn’t imagine why.

“I didn’t pay much attention to that,” she admitted. “I’ve never been very good at reading maps or envisioning things in space. I had to take remedial geometry in school.” She was an idea person, not a picture person.

“Paul Raybourn said you worked for a marketing firm.”

“I did.” She hesitated, tempted to gloss over her unemployment, or even outright lie. But she wasn’t a dishonest person and besides, she hadn’t done anything wrong. “My company laid off a bunch of people and I was one of them. It’s why I came home—to regroup and save money while I look for another job.”

“Traveling for my job, I’ve met a lot of people in the same boat, but that doesn’t make it any easier. I hope you find a new job soon.”

“I’m sure I will.” The job hunting seminar she’d attended in Houston had emphasized remaining positive. Of course, finding a new job also meant sending out résumés, putting in applications and networking with contacts in her field—all things she hadn’t gotten around to doing yet. But she’d start the job hunt soon. She’d just wanted a little time to lick her wounds and regain her equilibrium.

“Have you thought of going into business for yourself?” he asked. “That’s an option a few people I know have taken.”

“When I first graduated college, I thought of starting my own business,” she said. “After I’d gained some experience working for others. But I don’t know what I’d do.”

The waitress returned with their coffee and pie. “That looks great.” He admired the pie, and then returned his attention to Christa. “What would you really like to do?”

“Something service oriented, I think.” She added cream to her cup. “I want to help people and solve problems. I’d like to make a difference.” At her old job, she’d had the opportunity to work on a couple of campaigns for nonprofits. She’d enjoyed that work most, though the majority of her time was spent on other, less-satisfying projects.

“Then we’re not so far apart. I want to help folks, too—help them get to jobs and spend less time commuting and more time with their families.”

“People could do that if they stayed here in Cedar Grove.”

“Except there aren’t many jobs here—not that pay what jobs in the city do.”

That was another problem altogether, one neither of them was likely to solve. But she wasn’t going to let him off so easily. “I don’t buy your argument that you had to choose the shortest route,” she said. “A route to the north of Cedar Grove would still be shorter than taking the current road. It would meet your goal of a faster commute and it would be more convenient. Travelers could stop in Cedar Grove and get gas or a bite to eat, or to use the restroom.”

“The new shopping development will have gas stations and restaurants. But a rest area with comfort stations and picnic tables is a good idea. I’ll have to look into that.” He pulled out his smartphone and tapped in a note.

She took a bite of pie. The combination of sweet-tart berries and flaky pastry was better than anything she’d had in the city—the kind of treat tourists would line up to buy, if they only got to town and discovered it. “You talk as if the highway is a done deal,” she said. “As if it’s too late to change anything. But all I’ve seen is drawings. You admitted in the meeting that you don’t even have all of the right of way.”

“We have commitments from everyone we need, but we’re not rushing people. Despite what people like to think, the state doesn’t bully its citizens. We’ll complete the negotiations soon. We’re surveying and expect to break ground on schedule.”

“Until you start pouring concrete, there’s still time to rethink this.”

She focused on her pie, aware of his gaze on her. She couldn’t remember a man looking at her with such intensity. What did he see? He wasn’t hostile—when she glanced up, she was surprised to find only sympathy in his expression. “I know this isn’t what you want,” he said, in the gentle voice that had first attracted her. “But not every change is bad.”

“This one isn’t good.” She tried to keep her attention on the pie, but was aware of him still watching her.

“You’ve had too much change in your life lately, haven’t you?” he said after a moment.

“What do you mean?” Her heart was racing again. She hated that he unsettled her so.

“It can’t be easy, losing your job and moving back home. That’s a lot to adjust to.”

And she wasn’t adjusting well—was it so obvious, even to a stranger? Was he so perceptive, or just making a lucky guess? “I’m looking at this as a much-needed break. A vacation.”

“And this highway project is just one more thing to deal with. One more upheaval.”

“Yes. I guess you could say that.”

“Just remember, this isn’t really that important. Not like your future.”

His words confused her. “You don’t think this highway is important? Then why are you so unwilling to consider altering the plans?”

“The highway is important to me. And it will be important to a lot of other people, some who don’t even live here yet. But it’s a road, not a person. Even cold, logical engineers know the difference.”

Her cheeks grew hot as she remembered what she’d said to Kelly. “I didn’t mean for you to hear that,” she said. “I was frustrated.”

“I’ve been called worse.” He sipped his coffee, still watching her over the rim of his cup. “Have you talked to your parents about the highway project?” he asked.

Why was he asking about her parents? “Not really. We’ve had other things on our minds.”

“Of course. But ask your dad what he thinks. You might be surprised.”

“He said he knew you. He even said you had a good head on your shoulders.”

“I’m flattered. I like him too.”

“He talks as if you two are friends.”

“I like to think we are. Bud was one of the first people I met with when I came to Cedar Grove. One of the best.”

“He hasn’t said much, but he doesn’t seem very upset about the new highway.”

“Talk to him. You might learn some things that surprise you.”

“Neither one of my parents have talked to me all that much since I got here,” she said. “Not about anything important. They seem, I don’t know, distracted.”

“But they’re happy to have you home, I’m sure.”

“I don’t know about that either.” Despite their attempts at enthusiasm this afternoon, dinner had been quiet, conversation strained. Neither parent had asked more about Christa’s job, though she would have thought they would have wanted to know the details of her layoff. “Sometimes I think they’d be happier if I wasn’t here. Mom seemed anxious to get me out of the house this afternoon, and she keeps urging me to get involved with clubs and things in town. She has a whole calendar of activities planned for me, as if she doesn’t want me around the house any more than necessary.” Telling Ryder these things was like letting air out of an over-inflated balloon. Tension eased from her shoulders and she felt better than she had in days.

“It’s a big adjustment for all of you,” he said. “It’s something I’ve never had to deal with.”

“Where do your parents live?” she asked, ready to change the subject.

“My dad is in Wyoming. We lived there when I was small, but I don’t remember much about it. My mom is in Dallas. She teaches at a private school.”

“They’re divorced?”

“It only happened last year. I’m still trying to get used to the idea.”

Maybe he knew more than she’d given him credit for about unsettling changes. “Were you surprised they split up?”

“Very. I thought they had a good marriage.”

“I think divorce is hard on everyone involved, but sometimes people are happier after the split.”