“How are you enjoying the Sloane house?”
He glanced at Roxy Nash, the real estate agent who had worked with Ben’s assistant to arrange the rental property on Redemption Bay. She had the long, lean build of a marathon runner and a hungry look in her eyes that he suspected had nothing to do with food.
“Good. It’s a beautiful spot overlooking the mountains.”
“Have you had a chance to take that boat out yet?”
“A few times.”
“And how’s it running, after all these years?”
He shrugged. “It’s a Kilpatrick. Still as tight as ever.”
“Your family made good boats, from what I hear, though that was before my time in town.”
“Yes.”
The little twinge of guilt took him by surprise. Closing the boatworks had been the right decision at the time—the only choice, really. The company had been losing money steadily for years because of market factors and Joe’s general mismanagement.
“I’ve always loved Redemption Bay,” Roxy went on. “It’s a great location, within the city limits but far enough on the outskirts that you sort of feel like you’re out there on your own and the walking path from downtown to the bay around the lake is a huge bonus.”
“It’s been nice so far,” he answered.
She looked around—surprising a few people who quickly turned away from them—then pitched her voice low. “You know, if you’re interested in purchasing a place of your own in town now that you’ve sold Snow Angel Cove to Aidan, I might have a few possibilities. The property three houses over from where you’re staying now, just on the edge of the bay, is about to go on the market. I’m not supposed to say anything yet but I think you can get it for a steal.”
Yeah, that wasn’t happening. He forced a smile. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”
“Are you thinking about moving back?” When Ben wasn’t looking, Russ Warrick had approached them and now he faced Ben with an arrested expression.
“No,” he was quick to answer. He didn’t need that rumor going the rounds in Haven Point now. “Aidan keeps me plenty busy in San Jose, believe me. I’m not coming back.”
He would have liked to leave the matter there but Dr. Warrick wouldn’t let him.
“You should seriously think about it, son. I know you’ve sold your holdings to Aidan but your roots in Haven Point go as deep as an oak.”
“I’ve been gone a long time, Doc. I’ve got a pretty good life in California. Some trees are able to throw down roots just fine in a new place.”
“Maybe. It’s worth considering, though.”
The doctor wanted something from him and Ben didn’t have the first idea what that might be. He was actually grateful when McKenzie went to the front of the room and asked everyone to take a seat so the breakfast could begin.
Before he could figure out a way to sneak out, McKenzie pointed at him and then at an empty seat near her, clearly ordering him to sit. Bossy thing, wasn’t she? At least she wasn’t making him sit at the head table or something.
Not sure why he wasn’t obeying his instincts to leave, he slipped into the seat as McKenzie went to the microphone. He was struck by how lovely she was, with that dusky skin and dark hair and the high cheekbones that made her look like some sort of Aztec princess.
“Thank you all for coming to the annual mayor’s Lake Haven Days Luncheon, which as you know kicks off four days of crazy fun here in Haven Point. I’ve been to several of these but this is my first one in the hot seat. I’ve got to say, I much prefer sitting where you are, eating lousy pastries and exchanging gossip with my neighbors, than having to stand here at the microphone and say something pithy.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have thrown your hat into the ring for mayor,” a burly man with a big dark beard said from the audience.
When the general laughter subsided, McKenzie made a face. “As you will recall, Larry, I didn’t precisely throw any hats here. I was nominated at an election meeting I was unable to attend because I had the flu. But that’s beside the point.”
So that explained how she had become mayor of Haven Point. She hadn’t seemed avidly political to him. It made sense that she had stepped up out of a sense of civic duty.
“The point is, Lake Haven Days provides a priceless opportunity for those of us lucky enough to call this place our home to pause and reflect about all the things we find meaningful about living here. The lake is a big part of it and that’s what we celebrate with the wooden boat festival, but there’s more. It’s about the neighbors who show up at 6:00 a.m. with their tractors to plow your driveway after a big storm. About the basketful of tomatoes another neighbor might drop off on your doorstep or the dinner in your refrigerator when you’ve got the flu.
“We all have the chance to give back next week with our annual community service auction. As members of the mayor’s advisory council, I expect every one of you to participate. You can donate something from your business to be auctioned off or if you have a particular skill or talent, you can donate that instead. Larry, I know you make a mean Dutch-oven chicken dinner, since I’ve been lucky enough to be invited over for it, and I’m sure someone in town would be thrilled to bid on that. Karen, with your graphic arts skills, I’m sure someone in this room would love to bid for an hour of your time to help them redesign a logo or a website banner. I expect everyone to help.”
Ben heard a little good-natured grumbling but people mostly seemed receptive to her order. In his role as the public face at Caine Tech, he had become very good at assessing the mood of a crowd and right now he could see that McKenzie seemed very well-liked among her constituents. She came across as energetic, enthusiastic and warm.
“Will you still be in town for the service auction?” Doc Warrick asked him after McKenzie ended her welcoming speech and sat down.
“I don’t know yet, to tell you the truth. I haven’t figured out how long I’m staying.”
“It’s only another week and some change. If you are still here, the service auction is an event you should not miss. If you want to know this town’s heart, you should see us in action.”
He wasn’t really interested in seeing the town’s heart. He had seen enough when he lived here, watching them all kiss up to Joe, even though his father had been an ass and a bully.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said with a polite smile.
Yeah, he was going to wring McKenzie’s lovely little neck. She should have told him what he was getting into when she invited him here to meet her.
Breakfast was served buffet style. While everyone left their chairs to queue up at the platters filled with pastries, fruit and bagels, Ben opted to remain in his seat to enjoy a surprisingly good coffee.
A moment later, he was joined by a vaguely familiar older man with a shock of white hair and sun-wrinkled features.
He set his plate down and eased into the chair with stiff, jerky movements. “Young Kilpatrick, isn’t it? Ben.”
He nodded.
“Thought so. You’ve changed a bit from the days when you were a punk driving too fast up and down the street but I could recognize your mother’s eyes. Lovely woman, your mother. How is she these days?”
“Good. Thank you.” He assumed as much, anyway. With a niggle of guilt, he remembered Doc Warrick’s conviction that he should tell his mother he was back. He hadn’t called Lydia yet. Maybe after breakfast.
“Do you remember me? Mick Sargent.”
Right. He had worked at the boatworks as long as Ben could remember. The man had always been kind to him.
“Was that you I saw the other day out on the water in an original Delphine?”
“Yes.”
“Named for your grandmother,” Mick said with a solemn nod. “From where I sat on shore, she looked sleek and feisty—much like the original Delphine, as I recall.”
He smiled at this, wishing he remembered the woman. Those who had known her, universally spoke of her with admiration and respect.
“Did you restore her yourself?”
He shook his head. “When I found her, she was in terrible shape, rotting out. I sent her to someone I know in the Bay Area and he managed to find mostly original parts to bring her back to her glory.”