“Proceeding with roll call vote on the issue of a special use permit allowing commercial construction of a retail space on the proposed parcel of land. Councilman van Buren.”
“Aye.”
Damn it. She’d thought maybe they’d been able to turn Hank.
“Councilman Falk.”
Edgar was the dark horse. Cam said he was never sure which way the older man would vote. His voice rang out clear and confident. “Nay.”
One to one.
“Councilwoman Lockwood.”
“Aye.”
No surprise there.
“Councilman Crawford.”
“Nay.” Cam’s voice came out a couple steps above a growl as all eyes turned to Grace.
“Councilwoman Handeford.”
Grace paused as if still deliberating.
Oh please. Oh please. Oh please. Do the right thing. Norah stared hard at the older woman, willing her to give the answer they needed. She cranked down on her friends’ hands.
Grace’s gaze skimmed the crowd, one final assessment of sentiment before dropping her eyes and giving a quiet, “Aye.”
Norah’s heart sank.
Sandra’s gavel hovered, as if giving the other woman a chance to recant. When she said nothing, Sandra lifted her gavel, reluctance slowing the motion. She rapped once. “The special use permit for the proposed parcel of land is approved by a margin of three to two.”
No.
Norah lost whatever was said next because of the roaring in her ears. Or maybe that was the roar of the crowd. Down front, she could see Vick Burgess and Bill Sutto congratulating each other. Both men turned to Arnold Chiles, glad handing him for his role in their victory.
GrandGoods had won.
Chapter 18
“Here, looks like y’all could use this.” Tucker handed Cam and Norah glasses of Scotch.
Cam tossed his back, wishing the burn of alcohol could mitigate the crushing disappointment of their defeat. Beside him, Norah rolled the tumbler between her hands, the ice cube making a soft clink against the glass. She’d said nothing since the City Council meeting adjourned and they’d reconvened at Tucker’s downtown apartment. This late, nothing was open, and they’d all felt the need to debrief. Except no one seemed inclined to break the silence.
Breaking the silence meant saying the words. Admitting the truth of their failure out loud would make it real. All that work, all that planning, and Goliath had won after all. Since they left the courthouse, Cam had been second-guessing every decision they’d made, wondering what they’d done or hadn’t done that might’ve tipped the balance. Had it been a mistake to keep the rural tourism aspect quiet? Would it have been better to present it, as undeveloped a plan as it was, in the public forum? Or would the townsfolk have seen it for what it was—grasping at straws?
Would it have been better to not fight at all? To have never had the possibility an alternative in the first place? He was used to disappointment, used to things turning out poorly. He knew how to endure that. But this, the fall from a place of hope, was so much longer, so much harder than accepting that the situation was crappy and was likely to remain so.
Cam looked at Norah, at the shuttered expression in her dark eyes as she stared at nothing, unnaturally quiet and still. The fight had, in a very real way, brought him her. No matter what happened to Wishful, he could never regret the war that had given her reason to stay. So he would bear up under the disappointment and soldier on, grateful to have her by his side.
Miranda sank down on the other end of the sofa and slid an arm around Norah’s shoulders. “Honey, are you okay?”
Eyes still unfocused, she shook her head once. Miranda squeezed in support. Cam laid his hand on Norah’s thigh, but she didn’t take it, only continued to turn the glass in her hands.
“I thought for sure you had Grace,” said Mitch, at last.
“Did you see how she looked everywhere in the room except at Vick?” Tyler asked. “Didn’t that seem weird to you?”