state prison would be the answer to Eternity’s prayers.
“That’s it, then,” Dale Parker said, his tone morose. “Eternity is done for. Three bad summer seasons in a row and no prison to halt the bleeding. We might as well roll up the sidewalks and hang a Closed sign at the city limits.”
A buzz of voices agreed with him. Hank Townsend shook his head. “Hold on now, Dale. Everybody take a deep breath and don’t be so negative. Your city council isn’t giving up. In fact, we’ve scheduled a meeting directly following this one to come up with a plan D. Everyone who—”
“That makes me feel better,” Dale interrupted. “After all, plans A, B, and C worked out so well.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” muttered Celeste. Sitting catercorner to the gas station owner, she reached out and rapped him on the head with a rolled copy of the weekly town newspaper, the Eternity Times. “Let the man speak, Mr. Parker. You might learn something.”
Parker frowned over his shoulder. “Beg pardon, Mrs. Blessing, but plan D? It’s obvious that we’re fighting a losing battle here.”
As the audience buzzed mostly with agreement, Hank Townsend shoved his fingers through his hair and grimaced. “All right, all right, all right. I’ll admit it. Eternity is looking more like Temporary every day. We have a dwindling population and zero industry. Summer tourism is sick because we’re smack dab in the middle of the most isolated county in the lower forty-eight and the price of gasoline skyrockets every summer. Winter tourism is nonexistent. We’re too far from the ski resorts, and it’s too hard to get here to enjoy what we do have to offer. Once the snows close the mountain passes, we have one way to get in and out of here, and even I don’t like facing Sinner’s Prayer Pass in wintertime.”
“Wussy,” called Alton Davis, the liquor store owner, who supplemented his income by driving a snow plow in winter—over Sinner’s Prayer Pass.
“You bet,” Hank replied.
A voice from the back of the room called out, “So is your plan D to annihilate the Davenport heirs, Hank? Gonna fix that troublesome will once and for all?”
The mayor froze, blinked, then snorted with amusement. “I have to admit, that idea has some appeal. Sure would solve a lot of problems to be able to cut a road through Waterford Valley and bring Eternity closer to civilization. Unfortunately, murder is illegal.”
“Not to mention immoral,” added Reverend Hart.
Dale Parker heaved a heavy sigh. “Nice to dream, though. Eternity Springs has been paying for that deal between Daniel Murphy and Lucien Davenport for a century and a quarter. You know darn well that if Murphys still owned the land, they’d have sold access to the mountain and to Waterford Valley at some point in the last century. Instead, ol’ Daniel cursed us forever when he sold out to a rich man whose descendants care more about ancient history than they do about progress.”
“Oh, please,” said Emma Hall, owner, publisher, and sole employee of the Eternity Times. “This is a waste of time. The Davenports aren’t going to change their position. Even if they did, don’t forget who else would have to sign off on any deal involving Murphy Mountain. That would be Cameron Murphy. The same Cam Murphy you all routed out of town when he was little more than a boy. Somehow I doubt he’d be all that anxious to play Eternity’s savior.”
A drawn-out discussion of Cam Murphy’s youthful misadventures followed, during which Sarah steadily slumped in her seat. For about the millionth time, Nic cursed the string of events that had done so much damage to both her childhood friends.
Celeste’s keen, blue-eyed gaze shifted between Sarah and Nic. She pursed her lips and thumped them thoughtfully with an index finger, then said, “You know, girls, Eternity Springs doesn’t need a savior.”
Nic answered with a wry smile. “No. We need a town psychologist. After all, it doesn’t say much about the collective mental state of Eternity’s citizens that we’re clinging so hard to an isolated, financially bankrupt, long-past-its-prime mountain town.”
Celeste harrumphed. “People tend to place entirely too much importance on so-called prime years. Believe me, I know.”
Sarah elbowed Nic in the side. “I wouldn’t argue with the senior citizen with a new Honda Gold Wing.”
Celeste continued. “As for the rest, actually, my dears, the fact that you do cling to this lovely mountain town says everything. Eternity Springs might be financially bankrupt, but its moral coffers are full. The people