“Yes.” Lauren hesitated. “At the coffee shop.”

  Charlotte shifted closer to her sister. “How do you know it wasn’t him?”

  Lauren’s shoulders slumped and she shook her head, thinking back to the breakfast meeting. “He has a different name.”

  “I’m missing something,” Charlotte said. “Did you just see him? How do you know his name?”

  “It doesn’t make any sense,” Lauren murmured. She took a deep breath. “Baxter Caldwell.”

  “What about him?” Charlotte said. She took a sip of her tea and then spit it back into her cup. “You mean Baxter Caldwell is Tabby’s father?”

  “My gut is telling me it’s him, but it can’t be. He looks different. Ten years ago, the guy had a beard and long hair and worked as a tree planter.”

  Charlotte’s eyes narrowed. “Baxter’s a trust fund kid, not a hippie.”

  “You think I’m crazy,” Lauren huffed.

  “I think that you’re working too hard.” Charlotte brushed invisible lint off her pants.

  “Maybe you’re right,” Lauren said. “But Char, I need you to do something for me.”

  “Anything,” Charlotte smiled.

  “Can you find out if Baxter Caldwell has a brother named Brock?”

  Charlotte yelped as her mug slipped out of her hand, “Shit.” She hopped up and ran to the kitchen to grab a dishtowel. The coffee had pooled in the indent in the leather where she had been sitting.

  “Are you alright? Did you get burned?” Lauren followed her sister into the kitchen. She took the towel from her hand and jogged back to press it onto the leather cushion to sop up the liquid.

  “I’m okay, but these pants are ruined though.” Charlotte dabbed at the wet fabric.

  Lauren came back to the kitchen and wrung the dishtowel out in the sink.

  “Lauren,” Charlotte grabbed her hand. “You’re not crazy. I gave Baxter Caldwell a ride into town today.”

  Lauren looked at her sister. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t think anything of it, until now.” Charlotte’s grip on Lauren’s arm was starting to cut off her circulation. “Lauren, Baxter Caldwell’s real name is Brock.”

  “Oh, my god.” The gravity of the situation hit Lauren. She grabbed the marble countertop to steady herself. Charlotte wrapped her arms around Lauren’s waist. “Breathe,” Charlotte ordered.

  “Oh, my god,” Lauren repeated. “You gave Tabitha’s father a ride today, with Tabitha in the car.”

  “Oh, my god.” It was Charlotte’s turn. “Holy shit.”

  “Holy shit is right.” Lauren slipped out from her sister’s arms and slid down the kitchen counters into a tiny ball on the floor. She wrapped her arms around her shins and buried her face in her knees. “What do I do now?”

  “Do you think he recognized you?” Charlotte asked.

  “It was ten years ago. If he does, he certainly doesn’t show it.” Lauren’s stomach was roiling. Her simple small-town life just got a hell of a lot more complicated.

  Fourteen

  “Does it ever stop snowing here?” Thomas asked. The Caldwell team was trudging up the snow-covered steps of the town hall.

  “That’s what makes it perfect,” Baxter said. He glanced around, looking for any sign of a certain lawyer. He had managed to go five days without running into her and during that time, his team had modified the plans for the resort expansion project. The changes weren’t exactly what their opposition wanted, but Baxter hoped that their willingness to make some concessions would be a show of good faith.

  “I could never live like this.” Nicole shook the snow off her hat as they stepped into the mayor’s office.

  “I think you’d get used to it,” Baxter said, helping her out of her parka.

  “I think I’d get used to sand and the ocean, not cold gray and snow,” she said.

  “Yeah, this town is depressing,” Barry piped up.

  “Depressing?” The door to the office closed and the four of them turned to face a short gray-haired woman with years of smiled lines etched into her cheeks. “Shirley Smythe,” the woman said. “Mayor Smythe.”

  Shit. Baxter thought to himself. Not the greatest first impression. He cut his eyes at Barry who shrugged almost imperceptibly. He knew that he had fucked up.

  “Baxter Caldwell.” Baxter pulled off his wool hat and reached out his hand to the mayor. “Thank you for meeting with us.”

  Shirley strode past the group to take a seat in the massive leather chair behind her solid oak desk. “Please, have a seat.” She gestured to the well-worn chairs in front of her desk. “That is if you’re not too depressed to sit down.”

  “What Barry meant was…” Baxter tried to think of an excuse for his executive. “He’s having a hard time working with a mountain full of snow ready for skiing. Isn’t that what you meant, Barry?”

  “Exactly,” Barry said. “I can’t wait to get out there and go skiing.”

  “I hear you,” Shirley smiled, “I was able to shred a few laps before work. You should get up earlier.”

  Baxter chuckled. The mayor had to be in her eighties but was throwing out ski lingo like a seventeen-year-old. “How’s the pow?” Baxter asked.

  “Knee deep,” Shirley said. “We should be having our meeting in the gondola.”

  Baxter laughed.

  “I’m serious,” Shirley said. She shuffled the papers on her desk and then crossed her hands in front of her. “I hear that you have an updated master plan to present to the council?”

  “We do,” Thomas said. He set the cardboard tube on Mayor Smythe’s desk and pulled out the amended drawings. Thomas proceeded to go through all of the changes that the group had made. Baxter smiled as he watched his team in action. Mayor Smythe nodded as Thomas outlined the changes. His smile faded when the Mayor sat back in her chair and crossed her arms.

  “This is a start,” she said. “I’ve been the mayor of Chance Rapids for twenty years. During that time, there has been a lot of change, but every decision has been made with the best interests of the Rapidians. I don’t care if this will bring thousands of people to our town, if it means that the quality of life for my fellow residents will be impacted negatively, I won’t have it.

  “Mayor Smy—”

  The mayor interrupted Baxter, “Let me finish.” She held up her arthritic-looking hand. “You’ve made some good changes here, but I need you to get it.”

  “Get it?” Baxter said.

  “It’s a small town.” Shirley handed the tube of drawings back to Thomas. “People talk. I know that you and your crew haven’t left your fancy, catered chalet all week.”

  It was true, they had hunkered down to get the changes done. “We wanted to make sure that these plans were ready for council’s review,” Baxter explained.

  “And I appreciate that,” Shirley said. “If we’re going to proceed with a big development like this, I need to know that the developers understand what it’s like to live here, how the locals live. Show me that you actually care about the town and I’ll grant you your hearing.”

  “How are we supposed to do that?” Thomas wasn’t trying very hard to hide his irritation.

  “Go talk to people. Find out why they live here, what makes this town so different. You might be surprised.”

  Baxter realized that they were going about this process all wrong. He was trying to bring his big-city square peg attitude and trying to shove it into the round hole of small-town mentality.

  “Can you do that?” Thomas asked. “I mean, this is business.”

  Baxter kicked Thomas’s foot. “Is there anything specific you’d like us to do?”

  “Yeah,” Thomas echoed. “I don’t see how this is going to change anything.”

  Shirley took a gold-plated pen from its holder on her desk and proceeded to write on a pad of paper. She ripped it off and handed it to Baxter. “Here are some suggestions.” He glanced down at the perfect cursive penmanship. “I also have these.” Shirley handed Baxter a manila envelope.

  “What’s this?” he asked.

  “Tickets to the Winter Carnival.”

  “I don’t know…” Baxter tried to hand the envelope back to Shirley. “We have a lot of work to do.”

  “Young man,” Shirley pointed her finger at him. “You’re not getting it. This kind of…” she pointed to the envelope containing the tickets, “getting involved in the town, is work. As a matter of fact, it should be your number one priority.” Shirley nudged the envelope back across the desk.

  Baxter pursed his lips and slid the envelope into his messenger bag.

  “Thanks for your advice,” he said.

  “I’ll see you folks there,” Shirley said. She stood up from behind her desk and picked up her skis. “I’ll walk you out.”

  Fifteen

  Snowflakes swirled under the streetlamps as Lauren arrived at work for the day. She turned on the lights and clicked the electric kettle on to boil. She had spent the past week arriving at work before dawn and leaving well after the sun had sunk behind the mountains. The snow hadn’t let up all week and Lauren realized that she hadn’t seen the sun at all. She sat down and was bathed in the light of her computer screen.

  There had been a few developments in the fight against Caldwell Town, as the locals were calling the corporation’s development. They had modified the plan, so it was less like a theme park, but they hadn’t budged on the conservation side of things. She hoped that the town would stand their ground, and the proposed modifications to the official plan that would permit Caldwell to break ground would be killed at the next council meeting. Then Baxter would have to go back to the city with his tail between his legs.

  She spent the morning preparing her amended recommendations to the council. She heard the creak of the office door as it opened and looked up from behind her computer to see her sister and daughter. “Hi, Sweetie,” she said. Charlotte and Tabitha knocked the snow off their boots at the door.

  “Hi, Mom,” Tabitha said. “Are you ready to go?”

  Lauren glanced at the clock on the wall, it was already noon. “I’m sorry Tabby. I don’t think that I’m going to be able to come this afternoon.”

  Tabitha was a stoic little kid and was used to Lauren’s long workdays. “Okay,” she whispered.

  Lauren’s heart wrenched when she saw her daughter’s little shoulders slump inside her puffy purple coat.

  “Lauren.” Charlotte put her hands on her hips.

  “What?” Lauren said. “You know that I have to get this done.” Lauren pointed to the stack of papers on her desk.

  Charlotte pulled a twenty-dollar bill out of her pocket. “Hey Tabitha, can you go get a coffee for your mom?”

  “Okay,” Tabitha smiled. She took the cash and carefully folded it and put it into her purse. “Auntie Charlotte likes hers with cream. What do you like, Mom?”

  Lauren forced a smile at her daughter, fighting the tears. “I like milk and a little sugar,” she said. Lauren felt like the worst mom in the world; her daughter didn’t even know what she took in her coffee.

  “Got it,” Tabitha said. She turned and skipped to the door of the office.

  “Hey, Tabby Cat,” Charlotte said. “Don’t forget the hot chocolate and sprinkle donut tip for the delivery girl.” Tabitha smiled widely and when she had disappeared from sight, Charlotte unzipped her jacket and sat down in front of Lauren’s desk. “What are you doing?” she asked.

  Lauren jiggled the mouse on her computer, bringing her document back to life. “I’m working on my report to the council.”

  Charlotte crossed her arms, compressing the puffy down of her jacket. “That’s not what I meant.”

  Lauren looked up from her computer. “What’s up?”

  “What’s up?” Charlotte unfolded her arms and gripped the armrests of the metal chair. “That kid, all she wants to do is hang out with you.”

  “She understands,” Lauren said, but as the words lingered in the air between her and her sister, she heard how terrible they sounded. She hung her head. “I know. But I have to get this done.”

  “When is the hearing?” Charlotte asked.

  “You know when the hearing is,” Lauren said.

  “Yeah, I do.” Charlotte folded her arms again. “It’s Monday.”

  “Glad you can read a calendar,” Lauren said.

  “Don’t get snippy with me,” Charlotte said. She pointed her finger at her sister. “The hearing is Monday, and according to my stellar calendar reading skills, I have ascertained that today is Saturday. That means there is one more day in between now and then.”

  “You have no idea how much work this is,” Lauren said. “I have to go through all of this.” She rested her hand on the pile of paper on her desk.

  “So then stay up all night,” Charlotte said. “The Winter Carnival comes one day a year and it’s all that Tabitha’s been able to talk about all week.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Lauren said. She had gotten in late every night that week, and Charlotte had already put her daughter to bed for the night.

  The door thudded as it opened and then shut again. Both sisters turned their heads to see Tabitha pressing her back up against the glass, trying her best to keep the tray of coffees upright while trying to get inside. Charlotte jumped up from her chair and opened the door for her.

  “Coffee delivery,” Tabitha shouted.

  “Did the delivery girl already sample her tip?” Charlotte laughed.

  “How did you know?” Tabitha smiled wryly.

  Lauren stood up and stepped out from behind her desk. “Because you have a purple sprinkle stuck to your face.”

  Tabitha handed Lauren the tray of drinks and brushed at her cheek, the offending sprinkle falling to the floor. “Yours is the one with the ‘S’ on top of it.” Tabitha pointed to the to-go cups. “The ‘S’ stands for sugar.”

  “Thanks, Tabitha.” Lauren took her coat from the hook on the wall and pulled it on.

  “Where are you going?” Tabitha asked.

  Lauren slid her hand into her gloves and picked up her coffee. “To the Winter Carnival,” she said. “You coming?”

  Even if Lauren had to stay up for two nights straight, the squeal of delight from her daughter had just made it worth it. The three of them put on their hats and gloves and headed out into the snow. As they walked down the street, Lauren’s eyes were constantly scanning the sidewalk for any signs of slick businesspeople. “Have you seen him?” she whispered to Charlotte.

  “I haven’t seen any of them,” Charlotte said. “My sources tell me that they’ve been holed up in their chalet.” Then she whispered. “Have you decided what to do yet?”

  Lauren pointed to Tabitha who was excitedly walking a few steps ahead of them and shook her head. “Not in front of her,” she mouthed. She would’ve been lying if she said the only reason she’d been holed up at her office was because of work. She had been avoiding any possibility of a chance encounter with a certain executive.

  “What if he’s there?” Charlotte whispered.

  “At the Winter Carnival?” Lauren laughed. “I don’t think that’s really their scene.”

  The Winter Carnival was a local tradition, and Lauren’s pass, a wooden round disk with the year 2020 and a snowman artfully burned into it, bounced against her jacket.

  They walked into the community center parking lot and were immediately met with the smell of frying dough and cinnamon. “Mom, can I get a beavertail?” Tabitha grabbed her hand.

  “Didn’t you just have a–,” she started to say but was promptly elbowed by her sister.

  “Sure,” Lauren said. She reached into her purse to pull out some money.

  “I still have some money left,” Tabitha patted her purse and jogged away.

  “I wish I could bottle that energy,” Charlotte smiled.

  “That energy is fueled by sprinkle donuts and beavertails,” Lauren said. “She’s going to be bouncing off the walls later.”

  “It’s a special day,” Charlotte said.

  “You’re right,” Lauren said.

  “What?” Charlotte yelled. The chainsaw carving competition had just started and the sisters’ voices were competing with the ear-splitting buzzing of the saws. They walked away from the flying sawdust and headed toward the ice sculpture display.

  “Thank you,” Lauren said. She looked around the busy festival and saw many familiar faces, but thankfully, none of them belonged to Baxter. “It looks like the entire town took the day off.” She took a sip of her coffee and felt her shoulders relax. The snow had stopped falling and for the first time in weeks, the sun peeked out from behind the thick layer of cloud cover. Small fires were scattered around the parking lot and Charlotte and Lauren sidled up to one of them to warm their legs.

  “You’re welcome,” Charlotte said. “I’m sorry for being so hard on you, but I know better than anyone the damage that can happen when you put your work ahead of everyone – even yourself.”

  “I know,” Lauren sighed. “I’ve been so wrapped up in this case. And the whole Baxter Brock thing has thrown me for a loop.”

  Charlotte glanced around and then whispered. “Are you going to tell him?”

  Lauren’s eyes widened and then she also glanced around, checking to see if anyone was within earshot. “No,” she said.

  Charlotte turned to face her. “No? Why?”

  Lauren glanced around again. “Why would I? I mean, he doesn’t know who I am. I’ve thought about it long and hard, Char. It just doesn’t make sense to kick that hornet’s nest.”

  Charlotte opened her mouth as if to say something but closed it and tightened her lips.

  “What?” Lauren hissed.

  “I thought you said that you felt something when you saw—”

  Lauren reached and gripped her sister’s forearm, she shook her head, a silent motion telling her to shut up. Charlotte turned her head to see the bleached blond duo, Carrie and Stacy, approaching from behind.

  Carrie shot Lauren a dirty look and then whispered something to her sister. The two of them cackled, butted out their cigarettes, and then headed into the community center.