may be the only other South Carolina lighthouse in private hands. You could appeal to them or maybe organize a similar group here.”
“But could a group like that force the sale of private property?” Ashley asked.
“Forcing a sale wouldn’t be impossible. But it might be difficult. I think the family who owns the Morris Island light was happy to turn the land over to the state.”
“Okay. If I didn’t want to go that route, what other options might be available?”
Micah cleared his throat a second time. She could almost feel his disapproval like a looming shadow behind her.
“Well, any building would have to meet codes. And I imagine there would be some issues building out there with wastewater and electricity.”
“Uh-huh.” Unfortunately, Ashley had a feeling Jessica Blackwood knew precisely how to meet those building codes.
“Of course,” Harry said, buckling his briefcase, “if you really want to stall development in this town, you call Peggy Fiedler of the Moonlight Bay Conservation Society. She’s a thorn in my side. You know, she’s even opposed to the renovations we’re trying to finance for the historic homes north of town. You’d think a conservation society would want to conserve history by restoring some of the old freeman houses. But since we’re talking about inviting history tourists to rent those houses, Peggy is dead set against it. I swear, that woman would rather see all those old houses fall down and the land go back to its pristine state.”
Harry hefted his briefcase off the table and looked down at Ashley through his glasses. “But it might be nice to see the old light restored. You thinking about forming a committee to do something like that?”
“Maybe,” she said.
“Well, more power to you. Now I gotta run.” Harry hurried from the room, and Ashley turned to follow only to find Micah blocking her way.
“What are you up to?” he asked, pinning her with a probing stare.
People could say what they wanted about the Rev. About how his sermons were light on sin and heavy on Christ’s message of love. But there were times when he seemed to be able to stare through her skin into her innermost thoughts—the ones she didn’t wish to share with anyone. The ones she probably needed forgiveness for.
But this time she had nothing but pure motives. She raised her chin. “You know good and well what happened to Topher yesterday. But he insists on building a house out where no one could rescue him if he got into trouble. I don’t object to the house. I object to his running away and putting his life in danger.”
“The ends don’t justify the means, Ashley. You know that.”
Leave it to the Rev to make her feel guilty.
“I know it’s not exactly playing fair with him. But the family’s desperate to pull him back from the brink. We’re all afraid that if he’s left alone, he might do something…” Her voice trailed off, unable to actually say the words.
“Do you think he’s suicidal?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know. He’s clearly depressed. But even if he wasn’t depressed, he could still die falling down the lighthouse stairs. And who would be there to even know about it? When I think about that happening, I know I have to stop him.”
“By riling up the Moonlight Bay Conservation Society?”
“If that’s what it takes.” She stepped around him and headed toward the door, expecting Micah to say something to her back. His silence was more damning than words could ever be. Guilt made her stop and look over her shoulder.
Did she really need his approval that much?
“You know, instead of judging me, you could try to help. You were a navy chaplain. You had to deal with injured sailors, didn’t you? Maybe you could talk to Topher.”
He nodded, his shoulders relaxing a bit. “Okay.”
“Thank you,” she said, turning away, escaping from his too-intense gaze.
* * *
Jessica arrived at her office early on Thursday morning, feeling good about her plumbing, confused about her client, and furious about the things he’d said to her yesterday afternoon.
He clearly hadn’t made up the rumor about her and Colton’s love child. He’d heard it from more than one source. If the story was that widespread, surely Aunt Donna had heard it too. Why hadn’t anyone said a word about it?
There was only one way to find out, so she called her aunt.
“Hey, darlin’,” Aunt Donna said by way of greeting, when she came on the line.