newspaper clipping. “These next three are scholarship donors to the local school district. Photo 1960. Francine Drew, high school principal. Brewster Mose, physician. Dexter Canton Smith—”
Ava let out a groan. “Oh, please, not another Smith.”
Macy laughed as she quickly scanned the article, remembering the hoops Ava had jumped through last year on another man with that last name. “Sorry, but from the sound of the clipping he appears to be a moneyed sort. Maybe he won’t be as hard to track as the other one.”
Ava sighed. “I’ll give it my best shot. Anyone else?”
Macy moved on to a few more photos, studying the captions for backgrounds that might prove interesting to her readers. “The cool thing about Arizona is that since it didn’t become a state until 1912, its early years look to be a fascinating blend of old time West and growing modernization.”
Macy’s gaze lingered longingly on other vintage photos displayed across the wall. Sometimes she wished her role was switched with Ava’s. That she’d have time to do the research and Ava would do the blogging.
“So is that it?” Ava sounded eager to get started.
“All for now, thank you. I really appreciate the historical tidbits you unearth.” The sound of heavy steps on the porch and the rattle of the door caught her attention. “Sorry, Ava. Gotta run. I think I have my first customer.”
She slid the slim phone into a skirt pocket and turned with a welcoming smile just as Jake Talford stepped into the room.
* * *
What was she doing here?
Jake halted, hand still on the doorknob as he took in Macy’s denim skirt, white crinkled blouse—and those strappy sandals. He didn’t overlook the frown aimed in his direction either.
With Grandma’s visit to Phoenix lingering well into spring, he didn’t want to interrupt her with questions about Granddad’s past. So it seemed logical to start finding answers in the same place where he intended to verify the research on the other old-time residents featured in Granddad’s book. The historical museum.
For a flashing moment he considered returning later, but he and Macy may as well get used to bumping into each other around town for the next month.
He released the doorknob and stepped farther into the room. Then he shut the door to block the coolish wind swirling in around him.
“Good afternoon, Macy.”
She lifted her chin, assessing him. “I thought we agreed you weren’t going to shadow me.”
“We did?” He said that to get a rise out of her and was rewarded by a steely spark in her green eyes. “Actually, I saw a car outside and assumed the museum was open for business. How would I know you’d be here this afternoon?”
She folded her arms. “You could have picked up my schedule from the chamber of commerce.”
“I didn’t.” But he would.
“I won’t debate the validity of that denial.” Skepticism colored her tone. “But we need to come to an understanding.”
“We attempted that twice, didn’t we?” He managed a placating smile as he stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets and strolled casually to look at a framed newspaper clipping on the wall. Then he turned to her. “I didn’t get a sense you intended to negotiate.”
“You didn’t want to negotiate, just lay ground rules. Your rules.”
“My town.” He shrugged and tucked his lips into a “too bad” expression.
“My blog.” Her smile mimicked his.
Then, in a dismissive movement, she seated herself at a nearby oak table covered with shallow stacks of old photographs. She picked one up and studied it intently as though he was no longer in the room. Recognizing another face-off in the making, he shifted gears. Thankfully, he hadn’t been a topic of conversation in her blog post this morning. Beamer and Taco had won out. But there was no point in pushing his luck.
He peeked into one of the side rooms. “Is Sandi around?”
He should have asked that question first instead of risking being overheard in personal conversation with Macy.
“We’re the only ones here, Jake.” As if reading his mind, an amused smile touched her lips. She placed the photograph in one of the stacks and reached for another. “She’ll be back shortly, after she picks up her daughter.”
Should he wait? He’d left work early in hopes the longtime historical society enthusiast could direct him to where Granddad might have gotten his manuscript’s facts. Had he done his research here or from the local newspaper’s archives or personal interviews? It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his grandfather’s work, but the deeply ingrained legal watchdog in him wouldn’t allow Granddad’s name to appear on a book cover without verifying every single fact.
He’d also hoped Sandi could steer him in the right direction to learn something of his granddad’s early years in Canyon Springs. Until now, he’d never given more than a fleeting thought to how little he knew of his grandfather’s past.
Macy glanced at him uneasily, Jake’s indecision clearly getting on her nerves. “Is there something I can help you with?”
Or in other words, you know I can’t do a thing for you so you may as well be on your way.
He’d be better off coming back later. She’d be a distraction, on top of the fact that it was unlikely he’d make much progress if he tried to poke around without Sandi’s assistance. Besides, Macy might hang over his shoulder trying to see what he was doing and he wanted her to know as little about his personal life in Canyon Springs as possible. They were strangers now and he intended to keep it that way.
Then again...
“As a matter of fact, Macy—”
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