CHAPTER 27
“Travis, you’re not thinking like a winner,” Weston banged his hand on the table.
“Like hell I’m not,” Travis countered, voice rising.
Tension had been building all week and had finally spilled over at dinner.
“Guys, Dax is asleep upstairs,” Elaine scolded.
She was on pins and needles too, expecting the worst every day when she rushed to the mailbox. So far Lawson hadn’t gone on the offensive, but their conversation kept ringing in her ears. They just had to get through the next four days in one piece, but everyone was exhausted and on edge.
“You need to sew this up, Travis, and to do it you’ve got to go negative.”
Travis crossed his arms, triceps bulging under his shirt. “I won’t. I have a reputation to uphold in the community. I won’t resort to mudslinging.”
“All it would be doing is raising questions about your opponent. Legitimate questions.” Weston paced the length of the table. “Look. I can call my dad’s designer and have something put together by midnight. There’s a printer in Wichita we can pay for an expedited run. They’ll be finished by mid-afternoon tomorrow and I will personally deliver them to the post office. We’ll have to pay first class postage, but they’ll arrive in some boxes Saturday and the rest, Monday.”
“You’ve thought this through completely, haven’t you?” You could cut the tension in Travis’s voice with a knife.
Weston rolled his eyes. “This ain’t my first rodeo.”
“It would cost $14,097.44,” she said more to herself than to anyone else.
The men swung to stare at her.
“How do you know?” Travis asked.
Weston smacked his shoulder. “I told you she was lightning fast with numbers. Break it down?”
Elaine sighed, cheeks flaming under their stares. “10,623 voters, times point seven-nine for a six by eight mailer. $8,392.17 in printing costs. Multiply the voters by a first-class stamp and that’s an additional $5,205.27. Add five hundred for expedited printing.” She shrugged. Not that hard.
Travis grinned at her. “I knew there was a reason why I loved you.” He turned to Weston, frowning. “I’m not spending fifteen thousand more of my nest-egg just to hit Lawson in the balls.”
Weston’s jaw flexed. “How bad do you want to win?”
“I guess not fifteen-thousand more bad. I could use that to get the tractor running again. Or buy a half-dozen calf-cow pairs.”
“Thinking like a rancher already?”
“Just trying to keep my perspective.”
“Try this perspective. You lose, Lawson becomes your boss. And mine,” Weston added. “The guy’s bad news, Travis. Is it worth fifteen grand to make sure an asshole doesn’t ruin the county?”
Travis’s face pulled tight. “You can’t put that all on me, and you know it.”
Weston paced away again. “At least there’s nothing negative Lawson can use on you. Maybe we’ll squeak this out, but mark my words. If he wins, it will be harder to unseat him as an incumbent.”
Elaine’s stomach somersaulted at Weston’s words, and she nearly missed what Travis said.
“Elaine? What do you think?”
Both sets of eyes trained on her. She froze. What was she supposed to say? Lawson’s threat rang in her ears. Lawson would lash out if he felt backed into a corner. She looked back and forth between the two men. Weston’s eyes flaming with intensity and the desire to win. Travis’s guarded. Exhausted. What would Lawson do if he lost? Would he still find a way to ruin everything she’d rebuilt? It was too risky. “I-I think we should give him a wide berth.”
Triumph flashed in Travis’s eyes. Weston looked crestfallen. “I’m sorry Weston.”
Weston threw up his hand. “What the candidate wants…” He grabbed his jacket draped over the end chair. “As long as you have no regrets, man. I don’t want you coming back in a year or two when Lawson is running the county like a mob boss and telling me you wished you’d spent the money.”
Travis’s mouth flattened. “Not a chance.”
“My work here is done, then. You know what you need to do over the weekend. I’ll show myself out.” Weston let himself out, quietly shutting the door with a click.
Travis’s shoulders sagged, and after locking the door, he flopped on the couch cradling his head in his hands. The poor man was exhausted. Heck, they all were, but the stress of it was finally evident on his face and in his body.
Going to him, she curled herself up next to him on the couch, laying her head on his shoulder and draping an arm across his back. “Hey. You okay?”
Tension radiated off him in waves. She drew her hand up, working the knots at the base of his neck. After a long moment, a shudder wracked his body and he let out a heavy sigh. “Weston warned me this would be stressful.”
“Do you regret running?”
He flicked a glance at her, eyes tired but glowing. “Not for a second. I just want it to be over. And I want to know the outcome so I can move on.”
Her heart sank a little. So he could move on? What about her? Or them? Or Dax? Maybe it was just a slip of the tongue because he was stressed. But what if it wasn’t? And what would he say when she finally told him about her record? Would he still want her then? Even if she was about to be released from probation? She didn’t know what to say, so she kept working the knots on his backside. “Yeah, me too,” she finally answered quietly.
* * *
“More coffee?” Elaine smiled down at Anders, one of her morning regulars as she started to refill his cup. “I can run and get your cream.” Anders always put three creams in his coffees.
He scowled at her yanking his cup away. “I didn’t ask for more, and I’ll get my own cream.”
“I’m so sorry,” she responded automatically, reeling.
Anders wasn’t naturally crusty like some of the other old-timers. He usually greeted her with a warm smile and a question about Dax. Maybe he was worried about the reconstruction efforts for the Feed ’n Seed? Builders had broken ground on the new building last week. A shiver snaked down her spine. But what if it wasn’t? Her stomach filled with dread.
She shook herself. According to Weston, anything bad would have hit by now. She only had to get through two more days. She was just anxious about the election. About talking to Travis after. That was all it was. Nothing more than a few jitters. She replaced the coffee pot and grabbed a washcloth from the bleach bucket.
Dottie stepped out of the food truck. “You okay, sweetie pie? You look like you’re carryin’ the world on your shoulders.”
Elaine put on a smile. “Yeah. Just worried about the election tomorrow.” She lowered her voice. “And Wednesday.”
Dottie wrapped her in a hug. Dottie might be squishy on the outside, but she was steel on the inside. Elaine sagged against the older woman, absorbing her resolve. “I’m going to be fine,” she said thickly. “This will pass.”
“Damn straight you’re gonna be fine. Your man’s gonna win tomorrow, and then we can talk to him about Wednesday. I’ll stay with you every step.”
She squeezed her eyes against the hot swell of emotion that stuck in her throat. “I love you, Dottie. I couldn’t have done this without you.” She sniffed, blinking hard.
Dottie gave her a squeeze. “I love you too, sweetie pie.” Her voice grew husky. “I’m so proud of you. Now get back out there and finish up so you’re ready when Travis comes to pick you up. You have an election to help win.”
Brushing her eyes, she stepped back and took a big breath. This time, her smile felt genuine. Dipping the washcloth in the bleach water, she wrung it out and headed for the tables. As she rounded the corner of the truck, she recognized Travis’s brawny figure moving through the tables. “Hey there,” she called out, thrilled to see him in the middle of the day. Her smile froze in place when he turned, a thunderous expression pulling on his features.
He stalked to her, holding out a large, glossy piece of paper. A mailer, from the looks of it. His eyes glittered hard and cold. “What in the hell is this?”
She took the piece, hands shaking. Facing up at her was a photo she’d never seen before, but one she would remember for the rest of her life. She hardly recognized the scared eyed, pink-haired girl from more than two years ago staring up at her. But there was no doubt it was her. The red GUILTY stamp through her name just made it worse. Her world tilted sideways, sending her stomach with it as she went hot and cold all at once. But what made her want to have the earth swallow her up were the big words “Campaign Treasurer – CRIMINAL”.
Over her picture, big dark words grabbed the reader’s attention.
If TRAVIS KINCAID hires criminals for his campaign, WHO will he hire as County Sheriff?
The blood rushed from her face. She’d ruined everything for Travis.