“…and we’ll be taking applications for the future mother of my grandbabies right over here.”
Cam laughed along with everyone else as big bad Staff Sergeant Liam Montgomery blushed all the way to the tips of his ears. “Mom!”
Molly pulled Liam down for a noisy kiss. “Kidding! Mostly. Please, everybody, enjoy the party!”
She and Liam stepped down from the tiny stage that usually hosted local musicians and karaoke. A big Welcome Home! banner stretched above their heads. Tables had been set up along one exposed brick wall, and they were lined with an assortment of Speakeasy’s signature pizzas. Cam noticed Liam skirted these, giving a wide berth to everyone of the female persuasion.
The scents of spicy tomatoes, pepperoni, and yeasty crust set Cam’s stomach to rumbling, reminding him he hadn’t actually gotten around to lunch today, while he was pushing through those year-end reports at the nursery. But social duties had to be satisfied before his appetite. He cornered Liam as the other man lifted a beer from a passing tray.
“Welcome home, Staff Sergeant.” Cam offered a hand.
“Good to be back.” Liam shot a glance back at his mother. “I think.”
“You had to know settling back here was gonna open you wide up for that. You’re the oldest.”
“Jesus. Is your Mama giving you grief about settling down?”
His family went well out of their way to avoid the topic of him and marriage, a state of affairs Cam was generally completely okay with. “Nope. That honor goes to Mitch.”
“Then I expect he’ll be happy to commiserate, now that I’m back.”
“Gotta admit, I’m surprised. I always figured you for a lifer.”
Liam’s expression darkened for a fleeting instant and was gone. “Well, I did too, but things change.”
“I was really sorry about your dad.” A little over a year before, Liam’s father, John, had dropped dead of an aneurysm while under the hood of his beloved 1969 Mustang.
“With Wynne off to New Orleans and both Jack and Cruz still in for a while, when this contract was up it just made the most sense to step off the train. Somebody needs to be home to look after Mom.”
Cam smiled into his beer. “Don’t let her hear you say that.” The pint-sized Molly Montgomery had kept three sons, a daughter, and a husband in line, all while working a full-time job and regularly volunteering on various committees around town. She was a force to be reckoned with. But Cam understood the sentiment. After his mother’s cancer diagnosis, he’d dropped out of grad school and come home to take care of her.
When Liam didn’t respond, Cam followed his gaze across the room to a buxom brunette currently embracing Liam’s sister, Wynne.
“Who is that?”
“Who? Riley?”
“That’s Riley Gower?” Liam’s eyes all but bugged out of his skull as she turned where he could see her face.
Cam elbowed him lightly in the ribs. “Pick your jaw up off the floor, man, before your mama sees you. Yeah, that’s Riley Gower. I don’t guess you’ve had occasion to see her since she grew up.”
“She’s my baby sister’s best friend. I haven’t seen her since I enlisted. She was a freshman in high school, I guess.”
Which explained the shock. Since then, Riley had gone from awkward and a little bit heavy to 1940s bombshell.
“She bought out the pharmacy when your mom decided to semi-retire earlier this year,” said Cam, though he was pretty sure, given the look on the other man’s face, that wasn’t the information he was looking for. “She’s single.”
Liam shook himself and turned his focus back to Cam. “What?”
“Riley. She’s not seeing anybody.”
“Wouldn’t matter if she was. I was just…surprised, is all.”
Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, buddy. But Cam gave the man a break and changed the subject. “So, what’s the plan now that you’re back?”
“I’m not sure what to do with myself just yet. It’ll take time to get used to being without my unit, without orders, but, I have to say, I’m looking forward to being my own man.”
“I’ll certainly keep my ears open. If I hear of anybody looking to hire, I’ll let you know.”
“Appreciate it.”
“Oh, you helping anybody find a job. That’s rich, Crawford.”
Cam turned toward the voice dripping with sarcasm and barely repressed venom.
Roy McKennon stepped up, a long-neck bottle hanging loose between two fingers. “The Councilman here has made it a priority to block any and all incoming industry to town. So don’t be thinkin’ he’s got your best interests at heart.”
Sometimes Cam really hated civil service. “Now Roy, that’s not entirely accurate. There were reasons for—”
“Reasons?” Roy pivoted to face him. The slur in his voice made it evident he’d had more than a couple of beers. “What reasons do you have for stopping Ford from building that manufacturing plant here? What reasons do you have for denying hard-working people the possibility of a job?” Roy’s voice was rising, and Cam was aware of others starting to look their way.
Cam knew he needed to diffuse the situation. “That’s not what I was doing.”
“I got three kids and a wife to support, boy. Since the plant closed, we’ve got no insurance. Had to go on goddamned assistance like a bunch of reprobates. April made me let her sign up for WIC and Medicaid just so the kids are covered. My youngest has chronic asthma.” Roy punctuated each point with a jab to Cam’s sternum.
Though his own temper stirred, Cam kept his voice level. “It’s a tough place to be in, but there’s no shame in asking for help when you need it.”
That was absolutely the wrong thing to say. Roy’s face reddened. “You’ve got no right! No goddamned right to do anything to stop job opportunities from coming to this town.” He lunged for Cam, the bottle crashing to the floor as he swung one meaty fist.
Liam snagged Roy’s arm, twisting it behind his back until the other man howled. “You need to settle on down now, Mr. McKennon. This isn’t the place.”
Speakeasy fell silent, all eyes turned on them.
Roy subsided in Liam’s grip, his burst of liquid courage evidently spent. April McKennon, a worn-looking woman in her early forties, crossed the room, her face set in lines of abject mortification.
“We’re going home.” Her tone brooked no argument. “I’m very sorry for this. Liam, we welcome you back to Wishful and thank you for your service to our country.”
“Yes ma’am.” He released her husband. “Thank you.”
“Get to the car, Roy.”
Roy looked as if he might argue, but his wife just pointed with the well-honed authority of a mother of three, and he headed for the door.
April turned back toward Cam. “I’m sorry. Roy’s a proud man, and this…financial downturn has been really hard on him. He needs somebody to blame, and he’s settled on you.”
“I understand.” Cam thought of the conversation with his mother about how they might have to do things they didn’t necessarily like in order to save Wishful. “I swear to you, Mrs. McKennon, I’m trying my hardest to do what’s best for this town.”
“I’m sure you think you are.” Without another word, she turned and followed her husband to the door, her head held high, her shoulders stiff.
Cam ached for her, knowing that the embarrassment over the scene her husband caused upset her as much as his unemployment.
Conversation gradually rose again in the wake of their departure. Cam rubbed a hand on the back of his neck as he turned back to Liam. “Well. Sorry ’bout that. I’m not exactly the most popular around here these days.”
“Did you really block a Ford plant?”
Tucker McGee stepped up and handed Cam a beer. “Reckon you could use this. Cam was not, in fact, a one man army against Ford. He simply brought up all the relevant environmental impacts such a plant would have on the area, and the bulk of the City Council backed him up and decided it wasn’t the right answer. Plus, I heard they got more favorable terms from some other state offering tax incentives and such that we couldn’t.”
“Not that the general public seems to be aware of that. I was the most vocal opponent, so I’m the scapegoat for why we didn’t get it. Times are really tough for a lot of folks.” Aware that more people had queued up to talk to Liam, Cam gave in to his own keen desire to escape. “Anyway, I meant what I said. If I can do anything to help you find something, I will.”
“Thanks again.”
Tucker followed Cam over to the buffet. “It’s not your fault, you know.”
“I know that.” But it was hard not to feel some responsibility as April’s parting words echoed through his head. I’m sure you think you are. Was he wrong? His duty was to the townspeople, to his constituents, not just to further his own agenda of preserving the town exactly as he wanted it. He was starting to lose hope that there was any way to satisfy them and assuage his conscience.