She smiled, but it felt automatic. “Yeah. Just want things to go well.”
“They will,” I said easily.
She nodded before slipping back inside the house. Seconds later, she returned to my side with the brochures, but her fingers fidgeted with the edges of the paper like they needed something firmer to hold on to.
Right on cue, a black SUV rolled up the drive. The doors opened and three men and one woman stepped out, all dressed in professional but casual clothes—jeans or khakis and green official Tennessee Christmas Tree Growers Association polo shirts. They were all smiles as they collected clipboards and cameras from the back of the SUV.
I recognized a couple from the annual TCTGA meeting last spring. Then, as if he needed to make more of an entrance, one last man emerged from the front seat. I felt Anna stiffen. When I glanced at her, her skin had gone pale, her eyes fixed on him.
I followed her gaze. Tall. Silver hair. Unlike the rest of the committee, he wore a tailored gray suit and polished shoes. He walked with the confidence of someone who didn’t have to prove a damn thing as he led the delegation to the steps.
“Good morning,” he called. “James Washington, Secretary of Agriculture for our wonderful state.”
The name landed. Her ex-father-in-law.
Well, hell.
I didn’t care about his apparent self-importance—I could take whatever he handed out if he cared to make trouble. But I wasn’t sure about Anna. This was a family whohad hurt her, and those wounds sometimes festered when poked at.
I stayed close, shoulder brushing hers. A quiet,I’m here.
“Chase Allen,” he said, extending a hand. “It’s good to finally meet you. I’ve heard solid things about Silver Creek Farm. Great products, dependable business standards, good community ties.”
I shook his hand, firm but measured. “We do our best.”
As the rest of the committee introduced themselves, Washington looked over the brochure Anna had quietly given all of them.
“You’ve built something impressive here,” he said with a nod, voice smooth as bourbon. Or a gator gliding just below the water’s surface. “Exactly the kind of operation the association wants representing Tennessee.”
Then he turned, and I watched him look at Anna—not with surprise, not even curiosity, but with a kind of cool familiarity that set every instinct I had on edge.
“Anna.” His voice was smooth, like he’d just run into an old acquaintance at a charity dinner.
Anna didn’t move, but I felt the change in her. A shift in her breathing. Then she straightened her shoulders.
“Secretary Washington.”
I loved that she didn’t acknowledge any familiarity.
He offered the smallest smile, unreadable and sharp. “Didn’t expect to see you here, although I suppose I shouldn’t be. Most people end up back where they started. Though I suppose this place does suit you. There’s a certain comfort in familiar…dirt, as it were.”
My fists clenched at my sides.Was he actually implying she was nothing more than dirt?I started to reply with the first unfiltered response that came to mind, but I pulled it back in when Anna spoke first.
“It’shonest and hardworking, which is more than I can say for other places.”
He was clearly not amused, but before he could respond, she shifted her attention to the entire group. “Would anyone like some coffee or juice before you head out? I baked lemon rosemary muffins this morning. The rosemary is from the garden here, but it’s representative of the herbs that are grown in the greenhouses and garden.”
The offer caught their attention.
“Rosemary in muffins? I’ve never heard of it,” Sonya, the only woman, said, eagerly picking up a muffin to try it. Her eyes widened as she chewed. “Oh, my. These are amazing! The flavor is subtle, but intriguing.”
After that, everyone else took a muffin as well. Everyone except James Washington. He stood apart from the group, and I was pleased to see no one seemed interested in including him. He pretended to study the brochure, but his eyes weren’t on the paper. They kept drifting to Anna. Watching her with a faint, knowing smirk, especially as he saw the bruise on her face that her makeup still couldn’t quite hide.
Anna must have felt it, too. She didn’t say a word to him, didn’t glance his way, but I saw the way her fingers gripped the coffee pot tightly as she offered more to the rest of the group.
Washington clapped his hands together. “Well then. Now that we’ve seen a little of the homespun quality here, let’s see what else this place has to offer, shall we? Hopefully, it’s just as…enlightening.” Then he slapped me on the back, harder than necessary. “You’ve got a good thing here, Allen. Building on a name like yours. We have that in common.” He gave me a thin smile. “That’s no smallresponsibility. One little wrong influence can take the whole thing off course.”
I stood still for a beat. That wasn’t a compliment. It was a warning wrapped in a smile. And I knew whatever today wassupposedto be, it had just changed.
