A Change in Altitude by Cindy Myers Page A

should be there, too.”
    Bob hefted the box onto his shoulder. “I’ll see you Friday, then.” Without a glance at Sharon, he left the shop, the sleigh bells jangling in his wake.
    â€œI don’t think he likes me very much,” Sharon said.
    â€œBob doesn’t like most people, at least not at first. Don’t let him get to you.”
    â€œOh, I won’t. So, you’ll call the librarian?”
    â€œI’ll do it right now.” She picked up the phone. “Just don’t blame me later if she drives you crazy.”
    â€œI won’t let her get to me.” The last year had given her lots of practice at deflecting harsh words. Nothing anyone said or did to her could hurt her anymore.

Chapter 4
    L ucille had thought she’d feel better once the town had turned the tables on Gerald Pershing and swindled some of their money back from him. She’d wanted revenge—vindication, even. Instead, she’d ended up with him more a part of her life than ever. He’d rented an apartment over the hardware store, and she had days when every time she turned around she saw him—at the café, at the library, passing on the street.
    She took it as a personal failing that she continued to let him get to her. Though she tried her best not to let it show on the outside, whenever she had to spend time with him, her stomach churned and she wanted to run from the room and go home and take a bath.
    Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option Friday morning as she sat at a back table in the Last Dollar with the rest of the town council—Junior Dominick, Paul Percival, and Reggie’s wife, Katya, as well as Reggie, Bob, and Gerald.
    â€œYou’re looking lovely as usual, Lucille,” Gerald said in the low Texas drawl that had once charmed her but now made her skin crawl. “That color blue is particularly striking on you.”
    â€œSave the flattery for someone who cares.” She opened the file folder on the table in front of her, though she’d already read through the paperwork there several times. “About this report the engineers have filed . . . the mine appears to need quite a bit of work to make it viable.”
    â€œBracing of several tunnels, drainage work, ventilation to vent gases.” Paul read through his own copy of the engineers’ report. “And that’s before we even get to the work needed to get to the ore itself.”
    â€œThe safety requirements are frustrating, but necessary.” Gerald nodded sympathetically.
    â€œSkip the bullcrap and let’s cut to the chase.” Bob leaned forward, hands on his knees. He looked, Lucille thought, as if he was about to spring up and throttle Gerald.
    Gerald must have thought so, too, because he leaned back in his chair. “Are you saying a discussion of safety is bullcrap?” he asked. “I doubt the state inspectors would agree.”
    â€œAll I know is that the safety stuff is only necessary to get to the rest of it,” Bob said. “The fancy drills and pneumatic hoists and steam grinders and whatever else these so-called mining engineers have dreamed up to line their pockets.”
    â€œThis is the twenty-first century, Bob,” Gerald said. “The days of taking ore out with a pick and shovel died out with the use of burros and hand trucks.”
    â€œI always preferred a stick of dynamite myself,” Bob said. “But the truth is, we don’t have the money to invest in all this fancy machinery. If that’s the only way to get to the gold, then it’s not worth it to us.”
    â€œIt’s worth it to me, and I own half the mine.”
    â€œWe know that, Gerald.” Reggie, the town’s lawyer, who, with his silver ponytail and silver-rimmed granny glasses looked more like a biker than an attorney, spoke up. “The bottom line is, paying for all this will bankrupt the town.”
    â€œI really don’t see how you