Shifting Dreams (7 page)

Matt finally stepped forward, relieved to be back in the spotlight. “There already are. And once I can show that some meaningful business is coming into town, I can apply for grants to revitalize our downtown area. Rich people like to shop. That means boutiques and cafes.”

“And restaurants.” Alex caught Jena’s eye. “I want at least one very nice restaurant at the spa, and I know exactly the person to be the chef.”
 

Jena tried to stay pragmatic, but a flutter of excitement leapt in her belly. A restaurant? A real one?

“Restaurants, shops, hosts for the hotel, spa personnel, maids, janitors, gardeners, security, maintenance on the hot springs and the facilities. Wilderness tours and hikes. I’m talking about the whole desert, clean air, red canyons, and open skies experience, guys. This is not going to be something that only benefits a few. I wouldn’t invest this much money unless I thought it was going to change the town for the better. Ted, you’d be able to expand the clinic. Make it a real medical center. That will create jobs, too. Nurses. Support staff.”

Lena Vasquez spoke from her seat in the front row. “This is still a very dangerous thing. This will change the town in ways we can’t foresee.”

Alex nodded. “I know it will. But, Lena, how many children do you see coming into your kindergarten class come August?” Alex looked around the room. “Hm? More and more young people are going away for school or work, and
they’re not coming back
because there’s nothing here. More and more people are having to raise their children among strangers. In places where they’d be considered freaks.” He slowly shook his head. “Not if I can help it. This town needs to stay alive. And if we have the resources to do it, then we need to, even if there are costs.”

Another, more thoughtful silence fell over the church.

“It’s true,” Lena finally said. She was the principal of the small school in town. The school that was slowly shrinking. “I know of seven young families in our clan alone that want to come back, but can’t because there is no work here.”

Alex nodded. Steve Quinn said, “If this would create work… well, even if things change, we’d have some kind of control over it, right, Alex? Instead of people having to live away.”

“That’s what I’m aiming for.”

Jena said, “It’ll be hardest on the kids. They’re going to have to be more careful. And things like shifting out in public”—she glared at Old Quinn where he sat at the council table—“will have to stop. There’s no way we’re going to be able to hide if people keep doing stuff like that. They’ll think we’re putting drugs in the water.”

A voice said from the back, “Hey, that might draw an entirely different crowd!”

Old Quinn just shrugged his shoulders and laughed. “I guess we can all live with a few changes if it means a better town for everyone. I don’t relish the idea of anyone in my clan not feeling like they can call this place home.”

“Where you gonna build it?” Scott Smith asked.

“The land closest to the hot springs is my parents’ property and Joe Quinn’s. But I’ll pay everyone fairly for their portion.” Old Quinn sat up a bit straighter when he heard that and a general murmur of agreement came from the back corner of the room where his clan sat. “And since the springs themselves are community property, I plan on paying the town a yearly percentage for the use of them. That’s going to allow the council to do things like repair the roads, fix up the school, open the library more hours, stuff like that.”

“And what if outsiders catch wind of this? What if some come looking to build more?” Allie asked.

Robert McCann, Alex’s father, spoke up from his seat at the Elders’ table. “This council approves all building permits in Cambio Springs. Always has. Always will. That’s not gonna change. No one builds here without our permission.”

Lowell’s Grandfather John sat next to Robert. He said, “And Willow’s the only water witch who can find wells around here. If Willow doesn’t cooperate, no one’s going to be able to build outside the city limits, either.”

Willow McCann, Alex’s cousin, nodded from her perch in the front corner of the room. She was a quiet woman, an artist who matched her name and sent her work out to galleries all over the Southwest. Willow McCann was also the lone water witch in the Springs. Each generation of McCanns bred one witch who could sniff out water with pinpoint accuracy when no other, more modern methods, seemed to work. Grandpa John was right. If Willow didn’t cooperate when someone needed a well, one wasn’t going to be dug.

“Okay then.” Alex let out a long breath. “I’m sure there are other questions we didn’t get to. Detail-type stuff. Things are going to come up and we’ll deal with them, but does everyone here feel like they have enough information for an initial vote to get the ball rolling?” He looked around the room, then turned to the Elders’ table. “Elders, do you have any other questions for me? Will you vote to allow me the permits to clear the land for a hotel and spa here in Cambio Springs?”

One by one, the elders looked at each other, all of them either shrugging or nodding their heads, indicating they were ready for a vote. Jena took a deep breath. She could feel Ted and Allie on either side of her, both tense and waiting.
 

Robert McCann, steel-haired and handsome, even in his late sixties, spoke first. “Robert McCann, descended of Robert McCann, first of the wolves, votes yes on this matter.”

His great-uncle sat next to him. Lowell’s grandfather, white-haired and over one hundred and ten years old, was still unbent by age. “John McCann, grandson of Andrew McCann, second of the wolves, votes yes on this matter.”

Old Joe Quinn—who still didn’t have his favorite hat—said, “Joseph Quinn, descended of Rory Quinn, first and only snake, votes yes on this matter.”

Ben Campbell, Ollie’s grandfather, spoke next. “Benjamin Campbell, descended of William Allen, first and only bear, abstains from voting on this matter.” A quiet murmur filled the room, and Ben continued, “Understand this. I cannot bring myself to approve of anything that will invite outsiders into the Springs. The Allens and the Campbells have guarded the gates to this town for over one hundred years, but we cannot guard against outsiders that you invite in. At the same time, I will not stand in the way of progress others feel is necessary. We are a small clan and do not have as many to take care of. I understand both sides of the argument, so at this time, I will abstain.”

The murmur died down and Jena glanced over at Ollie. She could tell he wasn’t pleased, but she wasn’t sure exactly why. Did he wish his grandfather had voted no, outright? If he had, the whole vote would have stopped. Tension began to build in the room. The cats were next, and the cat clans defined unpredictable. Would they defy the wolves out of spite? Or would they consider this plan as much Matt’s as Alex’s and vote for it?

In the front of the room, Gabe Vasquez, Ted’s grandfather said in his slight accent, “Gabriel Vasquez, descended of Gabriel Vasquez, second of the cats, votes yes in this matter.”

Paula Leon spoke next. “Paula Leon, descended of Reina Vasquez de Leon, first of the cats, gladly votes yes in this matter.”

Well, that answered that. For the cats, loyalty to the mayor and their clan trumped natural suspicion of outsiders.

The last to speak was Jena’s grandmother, Alma. A tiny woman, her voice still carried over the church. “This isn’t an easy vote. I think…” Her voice dropped. “I think we need more time to think about this.” Jena could hear the collected gasp around the room. This was unexpected. Her grandmother was usually one of the most progressive on the council. “Alma Crowe, descended of Thomas Crowe, first and only in flight, votes no on this matter.”

Chapter Six

It had been a week and a half of cleaning, hauling, and more cleaning, but Caleb looked around the small police station with pride. It was rough, but efficient. Two desks sat in opposite corners of the room, with a divider of bookcases sectioning off a portion of the room for the “Chief’s office.” Jeremy’s desk sat with a good view of the parking lot and a small receptionist’s desk sat near the door. They still hadn’t hired an actual receptionist, but they had the budget for someone and Jeremy claimed he “knew someone” who would be good.
 

He had quickly learned that whatever he might need, Deputy Jeremy McCann was pretty sure to “know someone” who could get it. And chances were good that it was a relative.

Caleb had been sleeping on a cot in one of the back cells—which really did stay the coolest throughout the day—and showering over at Jeremy’s when he got the chance. But Jeremy’s wife was officially moving in the next day and Caleb had taken enough borrowed showers.

“Jeremy?” he called out from behind a bookcase where he was examining some old mining maps of the area.

“Yeah, Chief?”

“I need a place to live.”

He heard the young man chuckle. “You mean you don’t want to use Brenda’s soap when she moves in? It’s real pretty. You’ll smell fresh as a rose.”

Caleb smothered a smile. “Unless you want your first investigation to be the inside an outhouse, you’re gonna ‘know someone’ with a place to rent. Doesn’t have to be big. In fact, I prefer small. But I want it in town.”

Jeremy poked his head around the bookcases. “How small?”

“It can be a glorified tent, for all I care, as long as it has plumbing. And air-conditioning.”

Wait for it…

“Yeah.” Jeremy sounded amused. “I definitely know someone.”

Caleb had put off visiting the Blackbird Diner ever since he heard who owned it. It wasn’t an easy temptation to resist, but he was still in preliminary investigations about Jena Crowe and didn’t want to jump the gun. He’d gathered a short collection of facts about the attractive brunette, none of which made her any less appealing.

She was a trained chef—had studied in Seattle, in fact—but ran a diner her family owned. She was thirty-one and had been widowed for three years. Had two boys—Caleb figured she must have had the oldest almost right out of high school—who attended the elementary school in town and were McCanns. In fact, most of the information he’d mined was from Jeremy who was a second or third or who-knows-what kind of cousin to Jena’s late husband, who sounded like he’d been a decent guy.

Caleb pulled his dusty truck into the parking lot, looking for shade, but not expecting any. He hopped out of the late model Ford and stepped onto the small porch that lined the front of the diner. It was just after eleven on a Friday, so there was a small early lunch crowd he could see through the windows, but not too many people.

That was good. If Jena Crowe was going to bare her rumored talons, he’d prefer as small an audience as possible.

Kicking the dust off his boots, he opened the door and relaxed into the cool rush of air that enveloped him. A few curious glances turned his way, but Caleb’s eyes were glued to the figure leaning over the counter at the far end of the room. She was laughing at something an old man was saying and her eyes were lit up. That gorgeous smile that transformed her face was in evidence, and he noticed one of her legs kicked up behind her in a girlish pose.

Damn, she was cute.

Then Caleb noticed that all eyes had turned to him. He tipped the edge of his hat at the two older women sitting at a booth eyeing him before he walked to the counter and sat on a deserted stool just to the right of the cash register. Caleb set his hat on the stool beside him and ran a quick hand through unruly black hair. He glanced back down the counter to see Jena’s narrowed eyes watching him.

No claws… yet.

“You need a haircut, young man.”

He shot a crooked smile to the older woman behind the counter. She was taking out what looked like a blueberry pie from the case.

“Yes, ma’am, I do. Know where I could get that taken care of?”

She had a cap of silver hair and dark brown eyes that twinkled the same way Jena’s had when they’d been flirting at the bar. She must have been in her seventies or eighties, but Caleb would’ve bet when she was young, she’d been a hell of a good-looking woman.

“Well, there’s Patsy’s place on Main Street if you want it to look nice. Unfortunately, you have testosterone, so you’re stuck with Manny.”

“That doesn’t sound promising.”

The woman chuckled while she sliced the pie. “Manny’s place is the only proper barber shop in town. He learned one cut back in 1964 and became an expert. Unfortunately, he never really branched out.”

“Ah.”

“So it’ll be clean, short, and look like every other man that sits in his chair.”

Caleb couldn’t hold back the laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She winked at him. “But I’m told he does give a very nice shave, if you’re looking for that.”

“Thank you, Mrs.…”

“Crowe. I’m Alma Crowe, dear. Grandmother of that pretty young thing you’ve been looking at from the corner of your eye.”

“You’re also on the town council. I remember you.”

“Humph.” She huffed a little. “I’m currently the most popular member, as a matter of fact.”

So, sarcasm ran in the family. Good to know. There was definitely a story there. His interest piqued, he said, “Popularity isn’t everything, is it?”

Her brown eyes glittered with amusement. “That’s a very good attitude for you to have, young man. Especially in your situation.”