The Black Sheep and the Princess by Donna Kauffman Page B

sheriff’s crime column, but other than that—why do you ask? What difference would that make?”
    â€œI don’t know yet. But, at least back when I lived here, it was big news if someone ran the only light in town. You’d think this would have been at least filler on the local interest page if nothing else.”
    She shrugged, though if his goal was to further unnerve her, he was doing a good job. “Winnimocca isn’t all that close to town. Maybe it never came up.”
    â€œAnd after telling the sheriff about your plans to open a camp for disabled kids, no one came out here to do a little local feature story either?”
    â€œNo, but honestly, Donov—Mac, I didn’t really assume they would. I haven’t even begun repairs yet. Maybe they’re waiting until there’s more of a story. Who knows?” She didn’t tell him that her other mission this morning, after seeing Gilby, was to pay a visit to the head of the Ralston Chamber of Commerce. Her intent there was to talk up the camp a little, see if she could get his support by bringing to his attention the future business the camp might provide to Ralston, in exchange for him talking it up a little with the local merchants, most notably anyone having anything to do with construction.
    â€œIs there anyone else?”
    Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t follow the question. “Anyone else what?”
    â€œAnyone else who might be talking. Do you have any partners, silent or otherwise? Anyone helping you in any way or otherwise involved with you?”
    She knew he was talking business. He sounded just like the detective he used to be, and she was definitely starting to feel interrogated. And yet she didn’t dare so much as glance at him. On the off chance there was anything personal behind the question. “No. Just me. I—I have connections with people I hope to hire as instructors and counselors, but in terms of ownership and management, it’s just me.”
    He fell silent again, and maybe it was her own mounting tension over the increasingly negative situation she was finding herself in that made the air between them seem to crackle. But, at least from her perspective, the awareness and tension were operating on another level as well. She did risk a quick sideways glance at him then; she couldn’t help it. His profile was solemn, his jaw hard and set. His gaze was fixed on some point out the front windshield. And she had no clue what was going through his mind. Chances were he really was here on something of a lark, to help her out. Chances were, he didn’t want or desire anything else from her other than a job well done and maybe a polite thank-you.
    She settled more deeply into the sprung cushion seat and tried to tell herself all the reasons why being disappointed with that probable reality was a really dangerous way to feel.
    â€œWhat are you planning to do during the off season?” he asked rather abruptly.
    â€œWhat off season? Spring is here. Perfect time to get work done. By winter all the exterior work should be done, leaving only the inside refurbishing for the colder months.”
    â€œI meant what are your plans during the off season of the camp. Louisa wintered in Manhattan or whatever island beckoned.” She felt his gaze shift to her. “Where do you plan to hibernate?”
    She wanted to ask him what that had to do with the vandalism and possible developer intrusion, but didn’t. Maybe his mind was following the same personal track hers was. Only what difference it made, she had no idea. “Are you—is your people-helper business based in the city?” she asked in return.
    â€œNo. Virginia. We have Finn’s father’s old place. It’s the base of operations for Trinity.”
    She happened to know that “old place” was a majestic sea of acreage in the old-wealth section of Virginia horse country. “Trinity? As