Page 27 of A Hard Habit to Break

“I’m sure the chairman and the rest of the members would appreciate our support. At the same time, I know we all love this town. Most of you know we lost my mom to cancer when I was five. Like many of you, healthcare within the community is of vital importance to the Johnson family. I’m sure our appointed committee members will consider your requests and the options, consultants, and professional input required to execute the grant funding with care.”

When she spoke, heads turned, not because she was loud, but because her quiet authority pulled them in like gravity. He watched as the people who’d eaten him alive calmed under hercommand. Pete looked at Noah, not pleased that Rachel had done what Noah hadn’t: allayed people’s fears.

Rachel’s stance clashed with Pete’s vision for a larger public safety operating budget, mainly fire and police, and upgraded administrative spaces, which happened to include a developer rebuilding town hall and the mayor’s residence. Noah should’ve hated it. He didn’t.

Instead, something low and primal heated in his gut—admiration and desire.

“If asked,” she said, a hint of hesitation in her tone, “I’d be happy to prepare a comprehensive preliminary plan within the grant’s parameters that might be helpful.” She continued, pointing to a sleek leather portfolio in the space she’d vacated, an actual portfolio that Noah hadn’t noticed until now. “Again, if I’m asked. I can help.”

Noah had dated plenty of beautiful women since Rachel. He’d charmed them with practiced lines and calculated smiles, but none possessed the confidence in their abilities that radiated from Rachel like heat from embers. For the first time in years, Noah felt himself becoming the orbiting body rather than the sun.

Benji did a fist pump in the air. A second later, his phone camera light blinked on. Great, his public flogging was stored in the cloud to be relived ad nauseam.

Amarie, his sister-in-law, stood in the back, a proud mascot for Team Chaos, still in her purple hospital scrubs with a cheerful potted sunflower on the breast pocket. She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled. “That’s my sister, people. Girl boss material, you hear me.”

They all heard. Noah glared at his oldest brother, Eli, whose face looked the picture of innocence. It was apparent the Calvarys needed a family meeting where he outlined a Come to Noah’s Aid plan.

And as if things couldn’t get worse, Mrs. Kline, the leaderof the town’s oldest and most aggressive cheer squad, shouted, “We need Rachel! We need Rachel!”

With her silver tresses bouncing like they had their own marching orders, Mrs. Kline urged the other graybeards to follow their ground commander.

Pete raised one hand, attempting to quiet the troops before a coordinated takedown. “Thank you, Rachel. And might I add, I’ve never seen you look as radiant as you do today. But we have a preliminary plan right here.” Pete pointed to a paper-bag-colored cylinder standing on end beside the podium. “The redevelopment committee chair and the invited members of the community taking part in the planning will outline the requirements and community priorities based on the town survey. And for outsider help—”

“We’ll give all offers serious consideration,” Noah cut in, his voice heavy with gratitude. “If it’s still available,” he added, scowling at Pete, who stood glaring at Rachel. She didn’t seem to notice or care.

Rachel met his eyes. Not smug. Not condescending. Just… steady. Kind. Like she saw straight through him. “Yes, Noah. I’ll guide you.”

As the crowd began to nod and murmur with renewed optimism, Noah felt the ground shift beneath his feet. He’d strutted into the town hall ready to claim his crown, but now stood humbled in the rubble of his own hubris. Little did he know his first official act as chairman would be to extricate himself from a mess of his own making.

“Great. You and I will work together. Sounds like a plan,” he heard himself say. The words burned, but not to complete ash. “The committee will reconvene with a prepared response presentation next week.”

As the meeting adjourned, Noah caught his reflection in the window. His face flushed, his eyes wide with the clarity thathe hadn’t been crowned king, but rather the man responsible for keeping the town from caving in for years to come.

He’d thought it was game on with Rachel in town, but it could have been game over… for him. Rachel would disagree, but Noah recognized his childhood friend—the one who always had his back. Underneath the defined curls and expensive window dressing, she remained the girl he could count on to have his six. A part of him remained on the fence, but if Rachel was willing to stand beside him again, Noah could be the first to say “I do.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE FAMILY RESTROOM’Soffensive white lighting highlighted every freckle on Rachel’s face as she paced the cracked linoleum floor. Six steps forward, pivot, six steps back—a perfect metaphor for her relationship with Noah Calvary. And Petey…urgh, with his “never looked more radiant”comment. Even as kids, he’d find a way to comment on her appearance. What sounded like compliments, in reality, were little splinters pushed under her nailbeds to remind her that she wasn’t one of the cool kids. APetey-ism. She’d fled here the moment the town hall meeting adjourned, mumbling something about a business call to exuberant citizens who intercepted her with welcomes back to Service.

Rachel braced herself against the industrial sink, its cold porcelain a stark contrast to the heat flooding her cheeks. Her reflection stared back accusingly—copper curls still perfect, emerald blazer unwrinkled, and absolutely furious eyes thatreminded her too much of her seventeen-year-old self. As if last night wasn’t bad enough. She’d tiptoed in the farmhouse’s back door, not wanting to wake the whole house. Only her father was sitting in the dark at the kitchen table like Ebenezer’s Ghost of Christmas Past, but cuter, in his denim overalls and socked feet. She’d screamed. And somewhere in the yard, she’d heard an answering “MRRRRROWWWWWWW!”

Great, she’d thought. A failed kitty search-and-rescue mission. Returned home as one of the walking wounded. And ClamClam had hightailed it home, flopped on her side, and licked her lady bits under a starry sky.

Her dad had taken one look at her bandaged hand and the T-shirt she wore with Noah’s name on it, and his one question, in thatDaddy’s-ready-to-do-damage-if-need-betone, was “Are you okay?”

She’d lied. Telling him she couldn’t be better. In truth, her pride hurt worse than the minor sprain to her wrist. So, why had she stood up in that meeting to voluntarily dig a deeper hole, with Noah in it, for herself?

“What. Have. I. Done?” Each word escaped through gritted teeth as she gripped the edge of the sink harder. The paper towel dispenser beside her, scuffed and dented from years of abuse, seemed to mock her current restraint.

Outsider.Peter Judelson had called her an outsider.

Rachel’s maternal ancestors had been one of the original Negro families to migrate from Maryland’s coastal plantations to the Appalachian Mountains. West Virginia, being the only state in the union fully situated in the mountainous region, was ill-suited for the large plantations along the East Coast. Native settlers, protective of the limited acreage available for farming, had outlawed human chattel. The fact that the runaway and freed slaves were able to build lives and communities in these mountains wasn’t a benevolent act by any means.The white families wanted to be paid for their labor. Allowing slaves, many with craftsmen and farming skills they’d brought from their homeland, would’ve rendered their paid services obsolete.

She was no outsider. Her people had labored, and they still labored, for the land they loved. Petey wouldn’t rewrite or reduce her legacy, which her family had paid for with bloodshed, sweat, and prayers.

A gentle knock interrupted her internal meltdown. “FriendFriend? You in there? It’s me. The one and only.”

Even muffled through the door, Benji’s singsong voice was unmistakable. Rachel squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m busy kicking my own behind. Come back in ten years.”