hire is your business.”
“Well, you have to work with him, too.”
“Brooke, the whole reason we’re a secret is because I’m your employee. Don’t get me wrong—you can always talk to me. But I get where your allegiance lies. It’s with your family.”
She glanced away, her frown signaling her troubled thoughts. “Thanks for understanding,” she murmured.
If honest words about their respective stations was a reality kick in the pants to her, it was best this way. Hearing that the Thalbergs had donated a house to veterans was just the reminder he needed of his place on the ranch. He might want more from her, a way into her life that was out in the open, with her family’s blessing, but he had to accept that he couldn’t force it to happen. But he sure could persuade . . .
“So how’d you get involved in community service?” he asked.
“Steph begged for my help.”
He shot her a frown. “Steph? What does she have to do with—” And then it all came together and he gave a low whistle. “Tyler. Of course. I saw him at the Chess Club meeting, but his back was to me as he talked to her.” Adam wasn’t even sure what he would have done had he recognized Tyler that night as the ATV joyrider. Maybe he could have given him a warning; maybe the kid wouldn’t have dared try that stunt at Sweet’s.
But “maybes” were pretty useless now.
“The boy’s had a tough time,” Brooke continued, as they turned down the road that ran along Silver Creek to the Widows’ Boardinghouse. “His dad ran out on them, his mom is working two jobs to afford their apartment, and his brother just got out of jail. I thought . . . well, you had Coach McKee’s help. Maybe we can be the ones to give this kid a chance.”
“He has to want the help, Brooke,” he reminded her. “I talked to him before you got there. He’s got a pretty big chip on his shoulder. And I never saw a kid move slower than when he was following us around on the tour.”
She grinned. “I know. It was pretty funny. That heavy-duty coat I found him was too big, and he wasn’t happy. He’s never been around horses, so I was grateful to have you as my demonstrator while I talked about caring for horse and tack.”
After he pulled around in back of the boardinghouse to park, he watched her practically bounce out of the cab, saw her excitement at this new challenge, and was impressed. Steph had put her in a tough spot with a personal plea. There weren’t many who’d take it as well as Brooke.
Brooke’s grandma was driving Mrs. Ludlow into town, and they followed Adam’s truck to the town hall. Evergreens wound with Christmas lights grew three stories high on either side of the building. Town hall itself was a tall stone building with a clock tower, wreaths in each window, and spotlights brightening it for the season. Though you couldn’t see it at night, he knew the Elk Mountains were the backdrop for town hall, and tourists always took lots of pictures.
He dropped off the women because there were dozens of cars lining every nearby street, and ended up parking at St. John’s, three blocks away. Hearing a raised chorus of voices inside town hall, he had no problem finding the assembly room where the town council met. A Christmas tree presided in one corner, and fake boughs of greenery hung from the main table. Adam paused in the doorway when he saw his grandma walking briskly down the aisle, no limp in sight, back straight. She used her cane to point at people, asking whose side they were on and what she could do to convince the other side to change their minds. When she saw him, she leaned on her cane so fast it sent a ripple of chuckles through the audience. Adam pretended not to notice.
There were only a few seats left near the back out of about a hundred, and Brooke was gesturing to him from a few rows closer than that. She had coats thrown across a half dozen seats.
“It was all I could get,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Sylvester has taken up more than half the room.”
Adam glanced at the old man, dressed in a charcoal suit and bright red tie. “I didn’t know there was a dress code.”
“That Sylvester,” Grandma Palmer said, tsking as she approached.
She did