A Vote of Confidence by Robin Lee Hatcher Page A

Cleo standing in the back doorway.
    “I’m here to help.” Her sister swept off her dusty hat and hung it on the coat rack near the door. “Just tell me what you
     need.”
    Gwen lifted her hands in a gesture of confusion — or was it despair? “I don’t know what I need, Cleo, but I’m certainly glad
     you’ve come.”
    The sisters embraced.
    Looking over Gwen’s shoulder at the dining room table, Cleo asked, “What’s all that?”
    “I’m trying to write something for the
Daily Herald
.” Gwen stepped back from her sister. “Mr. Patterson is going to run an article written by each of the candidates. It’s my
     best chance to state the reasons why I would make the better mayor, but everything I write sounds so… so trite.”
    “I reckon you’re trying too hard.”
    Gwen sighed. “Maybe I don’t have any good reasons. Maybe I’m kidding myself, thinking I’d be a good mayor. Maybe the town
     doesn’t need me after all.”
    “You’ve got plenty of reasons, and you’re not kidding yourself. You’re needed, all right.”
    “Once the citizens of this town get to know Mr. McKinley, I may not stand a chance.”
    “I swan.” Cleo made an unladylike sound in her throat. “What twaddle are you spouting, Gwennie?”
    Gwen sank onto one of the high-backed chairs at the table. “He has a kind of charisma. He’s well spoken, well dressed, and
     he has… I don’t know… He’s so sure of himself.”
    “You don’t say.” Cleo sat down across from Gwen. “Sounds like you’ve had a chance to talk with him some since you met him
     on the road.”
    “Mr. Patterson introduced us at the South Fork Restaurant on Thursday night, but we didn’t say much more than hello.”
Not counting when I warned him I meant to trounce him in the election.
She picked up a pencil and began to sketch flowers on a sheet of paper. “Yesterday we met again at the newspaper.” She remembered
     the sound of his laughter when he told her he didn’t intend to underestimate her. Even now she felt the sound deep in her
     soul.
    Cleo tipped her chair onto its hind legs. “Hmm.”
    “What do you mean by that?”
    “Nothing.” She brought the chair down again. “Just letting you know I’m listening.”
    “Thanks,” Gwen said, disheartened. It was nice to have a sympathetic ear, but what she needed were ideas. Lots and lots of
     ideas.
    Cleo stood. “Let’s take a walk.”
    “I don’t have time for a walk. I need to work on this article.”
    “No.” Her sister rounded the table and took hold of her arm, drawing her to her feet. “You need to take a walk.”
    “Cleo — ”
    “No argument, baby sister.”
    Gwen rolled her eyes. Cleo was the older twin by only ten minutes but loved to pretend it was more than that. “Don’t bully
     me, big sister,” she returned, feeling her spirits lighten a little.
    “Put on one of those pretty hats you like to wear, and let’s take us a stroll. The weather’s fine. Doesn’t come any finer.”
    Gwen knew that look on Cleo’s face. Nothing would change her sister’s mind. Cleo was like a dog with a bone when she got like
     this.
    “Come on, Gwennie.”
    “You win. I’m coming.”
    Once the sisters were outside — Gwen wearing a pale straw hat decorated with a blue grosgrain ribbon, Cleo wearing her dusty
     brown Stetson — Cleo linked arms with Gwen and turned her left onto Wallula Street and then right onto Shenandoah.
    “You know, sis,” Cleo said, breaking the easy silence. “When you first came to Idaho, I never thought you’d stay. You were
     so educated, so refined and cultured and all. But I was wrong. You love this place.”
    “Yes, I do.”
    “It isn’t perfect, but it’s ours.”
    Gwen could have argued that point. She thought Bethlehem Springs was as close to perfect as any place could be. So much so
     that she’d chosen to live in town rather than on the ranch with her father and fraternal twin. Bethlehem Springs suited her
     as no other place had.