She dabbed perspiration from her upper lip with the back of her wrist. “Considered that. Couldn’t afford it.”
Ean seemed to slow his pace. “But there are six of us now.”
“Some of the owners are struggling to pay their rent.” Megan drew in a deep breath. “It would be too much of a hardship. Our best chance is a new mayor.”
“But not you.”
“Not me.”
“You’d be good at it.”
Megan liked the way he saw her, even if his vision was skewed. “I can lead a group, not a town.”
“So you say.” He didn’t sound convinced. He didn’t sound winded, either.
They slipped into another comfortable silence as their steady strides carried them up the winding path.
“What about you? You won’t reconsider?” Megan glanced at Ean. Was this run even challenging to him?
“My future isn’t in politics. Who else can we consider?”
“I have an idea.”
“So you’ve said. Who?”
“Doreen.” Megan braced for Ean’s reaction.
“My mother? Why?” He didn’t sound ready to jump on Doreen’s campaign train. Megan hadn’t thought he would.
“She’s helped affect changes in a lot of community services—local schools, the volunteer fire department.” Megan took a moment to catch her breath. “Ramona takes credit fo
r the lights along this trail, but they were your mother’s idea.”
“Ms. Helen told me about that.” He still didn’t sound convinced. “I don’t want my mother involved in politics.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want the people of this town calling open season on my mother’s personal life.” There was anger around the edges of his voice. His pace increased. “I don’t want her to be the subject of rumors, gossip and innuendos. She’s a good person. She deserves her privacy.”
He was right. Still . . . “Isn’t this Doreen’s decision?”
Ean started to speak, then stopped. “You’re right.”
“I’ll ask her today.”
“Fine. She won’t agree.”
“We’ll see.” Megan smiled.
That sounded like wishful thinking on Ean’s part, but he’d had to contend with a lot of changes in his mother’s life—her new boyfriend, her new job. How would he handle his mother’s role as mayoral candidate?
“You don’t stand a chance running against me for mayor. You know that.” Ramona’s overly confident words came from Megan’s bookstore office doorway Thursday afternoon.
Megan lowered her pen and looked toward her cousin. “What makes you think I’m running against you?”
“That’s your plan, isn’t it?” Ramona strode into Megan’s office. The ankle-length skirt of her emerald green business suit hugged her slim hips and thighs under her faux-fur coat. “You think that electing a new mayor will save the center.”
“How do you know that?” Megan searched her mind for the source of Ramona’s intel.