Page 9 of A Hard Habit to Break

“The question is for who?” The captain held up one hand, giving Noah the Heisman stop sign. “The view is different depending on where you sit. Him being your friend doesn’t change the fact that since the election he’s edging closer to self-serving. You can’t save the man from himself.”

“I get there’s been some disappointment with his public policies,” Noah replied, waving off the comment. “Pete’s not perfect. But it’s more than my friendship with him that I need to navigate. Bethany Walker has put in work to secure a portion of the grant for a medical clinic in town. She’s marrying my neighbor. Her daughter is married to my brother. Shucks, I’m running close to out of bounds on all sides.” For heaven’s sake, Noah had volunteered to haul supplies for her upcoming wedding. He had counted it a bonus that the woman was to marryRachel’s father. It made it easy for Noah to rub his success in a cute little freckled face. Now he wasn’t so sure.

“Noted,” Novak sighed, nodding his head in approval. “You’re smart, Noah. Decent. Don’t make waves with the other committee members. Keep it professional. Keep it civil. You’ll find a way to allay everybody’s fears and do what’s best for us and the town.”

The words flushed the salt from the fresh cut about the town’s reaction to his appointment and his friend but failed to solve his dilemma. Service residents had voted for generations to protect the natural beauty of their mountain town and its waterfall—unlike the nearby town of Whynot, which had surrendered to the expanding tourism market, devouring homesteads and farmlands of families who’d called the Appalachians home for generations. “Thanks, Captain.”

“Good.” Harvey nodded. “You’ve got two weeks to formulate a design and renovation plan for the council meeting that aligns with the grant guidelines.”

“Less than a month?”

“A lot less.” The other man shrugged. “This is leadership.”

The guys downstairs expected him to come through for them the way he always had. Noah won. Not sometimes. Every time. Gripping the chair back, he reclaimed his seat. “I’m not worried.” Yet somehow, the sure confidence he rode in on had dissipated like smoke vapor from the small office.

“Don’t underestimate the competition. Bethany Walker has garnered a lot of support for funding a healthcare clinic.”

Well, Noah wasn’t giving anyone a leg up, either. “Got it.”

“Remember. The position could be the tip of a potentially damaging iceberg. If this goes sideways, your job could be in jeopardy.”

Noah eased the chair back. Under his muscled frame, the metal legs scraped against the tiles. Novak winced. Noah’smind focused on the task ahead. He stood up and shook the captain’s hand. “You don’t have to mention any of this to the fellas, sir. I’ll make it happen,” he said with a smile, ready to tackle his problem. The unimaginative accepted defeat. Noah was more determined to make his mark. No one knew this town better. He’d woo any protesters to his side, support his best friend, and protect the firefighters’ interests.

“That’s your call about how much to tell your friends.” Harvey Novak angled his head toward the exit as he reared back in his chair. The metal springs howled in protest. “One last thing.”

“Yes, sir?”

“With your expertise in building codes and regulations, the grant still requires someone equally qualified in urban planning and architectural design.”

“Makes sense to me, Captain.”

“Good. Rachel Johnson’s being floated by Mrs. Walker and her supporters.”

Noah bellowed. “What the—”

Captain Novak’s attention shifted to his desktop computer screen. “Close my door behind you, Calvary.”

Noah’s roots in this town ran deep enough to move a mountain. Rachel had left the town of Service in her rearview.Calm down, Calvary.He had the situation under control. If Rachel Johnson thought she could slide into town and upend his plans… Wrong. The only gliding at his expense would be her nose in his success. Game on.

CHAPTER TWO

RACHELJOHNSON HADnever met a woman deserving of her widowed father’s love, yet somehow, he thought he had. Bethany Walker, a divorcée from Florida, followed her adult daughter Amarie 905 miles to the town of Service. Amarie fell captive to that Calvary brothers charm and married Eli, better known online as #SexyKittyVet, the viral TikTok pet vet. Once in town, Bethany flipped buckles over boots for Rachel’s dear old dad. As a result, Rachel had been summoned back to the family farm to build things and witness the nuptials. Questions needed answering, but her dad, using his daddy authority voice, ordered her to use her five-year architectural degree to design a custom wedding arch for his bride-to-be. She thought it was a joke. No such luck.

“Honestly, Rachel. If you don’t start talking, I’m going home,” her best friend said from the passenger seat.

Rachel wiggled her lips but knew not to remind Benji that the journey back to an international airport and the vehicle shipping company amounted to an epic quest he’d barely survived the first time. “I’ve been talking for hours.”

“To your imaginary friends. Need I remind you, I’m a real boy? And fix your face. You look tense.”

“I’m not,” she chirped. And to prove it, she smiled and stomped on the gas pedal, jostling her Ford F-150 with tricked-out black rims, as unapologetic as her fair skin and bold freckles, across the unofficial line between Service County and the town of Service. Passing the mom-and-pop brick storefronts, their faded red facades linked like old train cars idling along an azalea-lined Main Street. Rachel’s breath caught. Emerald green awnings flapped gently in the breeze above hand-painted window signs—Black Bear Bar and Grill, Dog-Eared Pages and Cinema, Twist N’ Curl. The General Store still offered key-cutting and a makeup counter. Black wrought-iron lampposts stood sentry at every crosswalk, dressed in hanging baskets of petunias. A white-painted bench beneath an overflowing dogwood tree looked exactly the same as the one where she’d first kissed Noah. In a flash, the carousel of vivid memories began to spin… She and Noah running down this very street, laughing like they had all the time in the world. Loving each other as if the countdown clock never applied to them. She’d never fit in with the other kids—too nerdy, quiet, and unsure of her Black femininity because of her white-presenting skin, red hair, and weird affinity for hammers instead of hot curlers.

A perennial outlier. But Noah had made her feel like she wasn’t broken—just rare. Their angles had aligned once. Until they didn’t. Did she have a problem with her father finding a Cinderella giddy about farm life? Not at all. Did she foresee problems of the personal kind if she stayed too long? Absolutely.

Rachel hadn’t left home just to chase a career. No. She’d leftin search of a version of herself—the Troian Bellisario complexion, the Salem Mitchell freckles with Alicia Keys’ curves—that didn’t feel like an outcast. Pale skin led some to question her Blackness. To literally ask the question… what are you? When she stated her opinion with confidence, the office gossipers whispered about the aggressive Black woman in the meeting. Or if, by chance, her suit hinted at feminine curves, there had to be an exotic-dancer-to-college-graduate backstory. Despite the cultural clashes, thirteen years later, her firm, Lawrence + Begatta Architects LLP, was eyeing her for partner. Some said she was too junior. She needed a marquee project to elevate her from a perennial rising star to a boardroom girl boss. So, this visit home would be brief and strategic. It was just a wedding, not a reckoning. There was no one and nothing she had to prove to this town.

“Hmm, you’re doing it again, Rachel.”

She glanced in Benji’s direction. “What?”