pulled the big vehicle into a quick U-turn. It got smaller and smaller as she watched him drive away, heading back to Benson to fight the windmills.
His anger seemed to linger in the cab. Maybe the wind would blow it all away, because she didn’t want it and certainly didn’t deserve it. She rolled down the window for a quick blast of fresh air. Ugh. She’d known this gig would be a hard sell, but she hadn’t expected to end up in a personal battle with the mayor.
The anger and worry she’d seen in his face were understandable, but it didn’t give him the right to be such a condescending jerk and lash out at her. And now she was angry. Angry enough to work harder on this project than she’d ever worked on anything before.
The setting sun colored the jagged rocks on the hillsides a pinkish hue and cast deep shadows behind them. It was dramatic in a moonscape kind of way. She could see how windmills would change that forever. Doubt pricked at her, and she shoved it down. It wasn’t her job to care, she reminded herself. She had no opinion in this fight. She was hired to outline the various benefits to the project. And there were real benefits. Big ones like reliable jobs and clean energy. She’d keep her focus on those positive outcomes and work hard. If she did, Slaid would see all of his outdated arguments blown away by her own. Obliterated in a blast of high desert wind.
She rolled up the window and drove back to Benson, making a mental list of talking points that would support the wind project. It would be a big challenge, but she’d been through tough work situations before and come out on top. She’d get through this one, too.
After parking in front of the cottage, she grabbed a notebook and listed all of her ideas. Staring at the bullet points, it occurred to her that the skills she used in this job—the thick skin, the tenacity, the ability to work alone in a hostile environment—were all skills she’d honed during her disastrous childhood. They were coping skills she wished she’d never had to develop, but they certainly served her well on days like this.
Suddenly she felt tired. It had been a rough first week in Benson. Watching the last rays of sun turn the town pink and gold, she wondered what it would be like to have a different job, one that was less combative, that didn’t require her to be so tough all the time. Because on days like this, she grew weary of fighting so many battles.
Tess hit the steering wheel with her palm, jolting herself out of her self-pity. She jumped out of the car and stormed into the cottage, angrier with herself than Slaid now. Life threw all kinds of crap at people every day—she was living proof. And sitting around moaning about it didn’t help. She was lucky to have a job she was so good at. Pity parties could lead to horrible choices. Choices like the ones her parents had made when they’d decided drugs were more important than keeping custody of her. Choices like she’d made when she was sixteen and discovered drugs herself, emerging from her self-inflicted haze pregnant and more alone than ever.
She would not fall into self-pity just because the mayor of Benson was rude. Slaid Jacobs and his soon-to-be-homeless cows weren’t worth it. Tess shed clothes as she walked through the house, and by the time she was in the bedroom, all she had to do was throw on her running gear and grab her iPod. Then she was back out the front door.
She welcomed the freezing wind now. It was invigorating and cleansing, and it scoured any remaining wisps of self-pity from the hidden corners of her soul. Her mind cleared, her confidence flooded back and soon she was charging forward in the growing darkness, trusting herself to navigate the bumpy back roads of Benson. She was moving fast and on her own—just the way she liked it.
CHAPTER SIX
S LAID STARED AT the letter through a fog of sleep-deprived disgust. It was from the Bureau of Land Management—official notice that
His anger seemed to linger in the cab. Maybe the wind would blow it all away, because she didn’t want it and certainly didn’t deserve it. She rolled down the window for a quick blast of fresh air. Ugh. She’d known this gig would be a hard sell, but she hadn’t expected to end up in a personal battle with the mayor.
The anger and worry she’d seen in his face were understandable, but it didn’t give him the right to be such a condescending jerk and lash out at her. And now she was angry. Angry enough to work harder on this project than she’d ever worked on anything before.
The setting sun colored the jagged rocks on the hillsides a pinkish hue and cast deep shadows behind them. It was dramatic in a moonscape kind of way. She could see how windmills would change that forever. Doubt pricked at her, and she shoved it down. It wasn’t her job to care, she reminded herself. She had no opinion in this fight. She was hired to outline the various benefits to the project. And there were real benefits. Big ones like reliable jobs and clean energy. She’d keep her focus on those positive outcomes and work hard. If she did, Slaid would see all of his outdated arguments blown away by her own. Obliterated in a blast of high desert wind.
She rolled up the window and drove back to Benson, making a mental list of talking points that would support the wind project. It would be a big challenge, but she’d been through tough work situations before and come out on top. She’d get through this one, too.
After parking in front of the cottage, she grabbed a notebook and listed all of her ideas. Staring at the bullet points, it occurred to her that the skills she used in this job—the thick skin, the tenacity, the ability to work alone in a hostile environment—were all skills she’d honed during her disastrous childhood. They were coping skills she wished she’d never had to develop, but they certainly served her well on days like this.
Suddenly she felt tired. It had been a rough first week in Benson. Watching the last rays of sun turn the town pink and gold, she wondered what it would be like to have a different job, one that was less combative, that didn’t require her to be so tough all the time. Because on days like this, she grew weary of fighting so many battles.
Tess hit the steering wheel with her palm, jolting herself out of her self-pity. She jumped out of the car and stormed into the cottage, angrier with herself than Slaid now. Life threw all kinds of crap at people every day—she was living proof. And sitting around moaning about it didn’t help. She was lucky to have a job she was so good at. Pity parties could lead to horrible choices. Choices like the ones her parents had made when they’d decided drugs were more important than keeping custody of her. Choices like she’d made when she was sixteen and discovered drugs herself, emerging from her self-inflicted haze pregnant and more alone than ever.
She would not fall into self-pity just because the mayor of Benson was rude. Slaid Jacobs and his soon-to-be-homeless cows weren’t worth it. Tess shed clothes as she walked through the house, and by the time she was in the bedroom, all she had to do was throw on her running gear and grab her iPod. Then she was back out the front door.
She welcomed the freezing wind now. It was invigorating and cleansing, and it scoured any remaining wisps of self-pity from the hidden corners of her soul. Her mind cleared, her confidence flooded back and soon she was charging forward in the growing darkness, trusting herself to navigate the bumpy back roads of Benson. She was moving fast and on her own—just the way she liked it.
CHAPTER SIX
S LAID STARED AT the letter through a fog of sleep-deprived disgust. It was from the Bureau of Land Management—official notice that
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