“Me, too.”
Riley might have started his bid for mayor because it was a condition of his uncle’s will, but he’d obviously embraced the idea and made it his own.
Riley finished his opening statement to the sound of loud applause. Mayor Yardley spoke, outlining his accomplishments in office. Next to Riley, he looked uncomfortable and out of place-as if he’d overstayed his welcome at a party.
The trend continued through the questions. Riley seemed to have a fresh take on every issue, while Yardley reiterated what he’d done before. Even from the back of the room, Gracie could see the older man starting to sweat.
“Riley’s going to win this,” Jill murmured. “He’s really going to pull it off.”
Gracie felt a fierce flush of pride, as if she had something to do with Riley’s success. When he finished his closing statement, everyone in the room rose and cheered. It took several minutes for the crowd to settle down enough for Franklin Yardley to speak.
“You seem taken with my opponent,” the mayor said slowly. “I can see why. He’s new and shiny. Lots of big ideas. But it takes more than ideas to keep a city running smoothly. It takes practice and experience. And it takes character. You all know me. You’re my neighbors, my friends. You’ve served on committees with my wife, gone to school with my children, played golf with me.”
Yardley stared out at the crowd and smiled. “You know my secrets-the good and the bad about me.”
A few people chuckled. “You’re lousy at poker, Franklin,” someone yelled.
The mayor nodded. “That I am. I’ve never had a good face for it. I can’t tell a lie to save my soul. Things matter to me. My family. This town. I’ve been here all my life. Four generations of Yardleys have served in Los Lobos.”
He paused and drew in a deep breath. “Maybe it’s time for a change. Maybe I’ve done all I can do. But is Riley Whitefield really the man you want? He’s young. Inexperienced. He’s been traipsing all over the world when he had business right here in town. Most of you know he took off to make his fortune while his own mother lay dying of cancer. Never even came back to see her. Not the example I want set for my children.”
Gracie stiffened. “That’s not what happened,” she whispered to Jill as people began to stir in their seats. “He didn’t know.”
“You think Yardley cares about that?” Jill asked.
Gracie stared at the stage, looking for some reaction from Riley. He remained seated, his expression calm.
But the mayor wasn’t finished. He leaned forward at the podium. “Riley was just a boy then. Barely eighteen. He’d had a difficult time, getting a local girl pregnant, marrying her, then divorcing her. But people grow up. The boy becomes a man. They change. Well, some do. I’m not so sure about Riley.”
Gracie felt her stomach start to churn. She had a feeling this was going to be very, very bad.
Mayor Yardley glanced at Riley, then at the crowd. “Who do you want as the leader of your community? A man you know and trust? A man who has never lied or misled you? Or Riley Whitefield who is a stranger to us all? Not only did he walk out on his dying mother, he’s returned to take advantage of our own Gracie Landon. She has loved him faithfully for years and he has repaid her with betrayal and scorn. Not only is she pregnant right this minute, but Riley is refusing to make an honest woman of her.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
GRACIE FELT the room tilt. For a second she thought she might faint for the first time in her life. A rushing sound filled her ears, her body felt both too heavy and too light and she couldn’t seem to focus on anything. Then her vision cleared and she watched Riley spring to his feet and stare at her in fury and shock.
“Gracie?” Jill asked. “Did you-”
Gracie didn’t wait for Jill to finish her sentence. She could feel people looking at her, pointing, staring, talking. But none of that mattered. She didn’t care about anything but Riley and what he must be thinking.
“I have to go,” she said as she stood and ran to the door. She heard someone calling her name, but she didn’t stop, didn’t turn around.
“Is it true?” someone yelled. “Did Riley knock you up?”
Gracie felt burning in her stomach, but this pain had nothing to do with her usual acid issues. Instead this ache came from the realization she had gotten very close to something special and it had all just been ripped away from her.
RILEY CONSIDERED returning to the bank. It was just after five so he could easily head home, but for some reason he didn’t want to be alone.
The debate had been a disaster. Yardley had been so damn cheerful at the outset that Riley had begun to suspect he was up to something. But he never would have guessed what. Yardley had struck hard and in exactly the right place. The good citizens of Los Lobos might be willing to overlook a lot of flaws but no one would forgive him messing with a town legend.
How had Yardley known? Had he taken a few facts and put them together? Or had someone told him what had happened? He hadn’t said a word to anyone and he doubted Gracie had been spreading rumors. Which meant the information could only have come from her.
He parked in his designated spot behind the bank, then climbed out of his car. There were still a few people heading inside to conduct their business before closing. He saw a woman pushing a stroller along the sidewalk. The air was warm, the sky clear. Everything was completely normal. Yet he felt as if he’d been beaten up and left on the edge of the road.
How could she have done that to him? Why? He would have bet a considerable portion of his soon-to-be-lost inheritance that Gracie didn’t like Mayor Yardley. So why would she help him? Bitterness over the past? Was this all an elaborate plan of revenge?
As he walked into the building, he told himself it might not be her. That whoever had followed them and taken the pictures could have seen enough to know what had happened. Until he had the report back from the private detective, he couldn’t be sure of anything.
Except he didn’t want it to be Gracie. Fourteen years ago, he would have sold his soul, or even his car, to get her out of his life. Now…Now he didn’t know what he wanted.
He rounded the corner and headed for the elevator. Several employees stood together, talking quietly. As he approached, one of them nudged another. They all turned to look at him.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Whitefield,” a young woman said. She didn’t quite meet his gaze.
He nodded and stepped onto the elevator. They were talking again before the doors closed and all he heard was “Do you think it’s true that he really-”
Word travels fast, he thought as he walked onto the second floor. He would guess the live radio broadcast was responsible. Zeke was going to be screaming tonight. They were going to have to come up with a great recovery plan and he didn’t have a clue as to what it would be. Beating up Yardley might make him feel better, but wouldn’t help the election. Same with suing the old bastard.
Riley moved into his office and closed the door behind him. He stared at the portrait of his uncle.
“You’re not winning,” he told the long-dead figure. “Not now, not ever. I’ll find a way.”
He would do what he’d always done when the odds were against him. He would put his head down and work harder than everyone else around him. He wouldn’t let anything get in his way. Not the town, not the past, not the damn mayor and not even Gracie.
He heard a knock on his door.
“Go away,” he called.
“Mr. Whitefield, you have someone here to see you.”
“Not interested.”
“This is important.”
Riley knew he’d cleared his schedule for the day of the debate, so she wasn’t talking about a meeting. Had Yardley come by to gloat?
