“Sinclair.” It took all my strength not to grab her and bury my face in her neck. She still smelled like sunshine and honeysuckle.
“Wyatt.” It came like a surprised squeak. I couldn’t tell if her surprise at seeing me was good or bad though.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
It took her a moment for my question to sink in. She held up several pieces of paper. I recognized the letterhead as being Stark’s.
“Did you get a letter from Stark Associates?” she asked.
“We did. We got several actually,” my mother said. “Come in and I’ll get it for you.” My mother looked at me. “Wyatt, you might want to put a shirt on.”
I looked down, only then realizing I wasn’t fully covered. I laughed,
feeling embarrassed at the situation. “Right. Give me a minute.”
I followed my mother and Sinclair into the house, and took the stairs up to my room by twos. I wanted to take a shower. Lord only knew what I smelled like. But I didn’t have time. Instead I put on more deodorant and found a clean t-shirt. By the time I got back downstairs, my mother was serving Sinclair iced tea at the kitchen table.
I sat across from her and smiled. She smiled back but it was tight. Polite. It certainly wasn’t the reunion I’d have wanted. You left her, I reminded myself. Plus ten years was a long time. Hell, she could be married with kids by now.
I glanced at her left hand and didn’t see a ring.
“Here are the first two letters. Wyatt has the last one.” My mother pushed the papers across the table to Sinclair.
Sinclair picked up the papers as she looked at my mother. “They sent you more than one?”
“Well, I refused him right off. He’s quite persistent.” My mother sat at the table with her own drink.
Sinclair looked over the letters.
“I take it we’re not the only ones to get a letter like this.” I said, nodding toward the other letters she brought.
“No. About six other landowners got them too.” She looked up at my mother. “You said you refused him. Is that still the case?”
“It’s up to Wyatt.”
Sinclair looked at me, her eyes full of questions.
“Right now, with my father gone, the farm is in my hands,” I explained. “I don’t have any intention of selling.”
“What if your father returns?”
I flinched at her blunt question. As if she realized it was a bit insensitive, she said, “I’m sorry, I—”
“He won’t be back and if he does come home, there are things Wyatt can do to retain possession of the property.” My mother’s eyes were sharp, her tone firm. I hadn’t known her to be like that growing up. Had my father’s leaving helped her find her personal power?
I also wondered what she was talking about. What things could I do to retain control of the farm? Deciding to ask her about that later, I turned my attention back to Sinclair. “We don’t want to sell so a billionaire can incarcerate people in our backyard.”
“Good. I’m deputy mayor of Salvation and I’m working on stopping Stark from building his prison here. I need families like yours to hold fast and not give in.”
Deputy Mayor. I could see it. Sinclair was always strong and willful, but now she had an air of power and authority about her. It was sexy.
Pushing thoughts of sexy powerful Sinclair aside, I said, “I don’t have a problem with that, but the tone of the last letter was less than friendly. I get the sense that Stark is ready, willing, and able to play hardball.”
“I know how to play hard too.” The fire in her eyes as she said that made me proud that she’d achieved success. It also made me hard. I’d always loved her spirit. Her willingness to stand up for what she believed in.
I grinned. “You always were a straight shooter. I’m not surprised you’re practically running the show here.”
“Yes well, there are forces working against us beyond Stark. And we’ll need the community to support all the farmers.”