When Rose got home, Mom and Lily were both up and sitting at the kitchen table. Rose threw her keys in the bowl on the counter and kicked off her shoes. She stood just inside the doorway, her mind full of Jackson and the way he'd looked at her in the rain. As though he wanted to say something to her.

"That was quick," said Lily, waggling her eyebrows. "I didn't expect you back so soon."

Rose shot her sister a look, willing her not to mention Jackson. Lily bit her lip.

"Where were you, dear?" Mom held her teacup in both hands and looked at Rose over the rim.

"Nowhere. I had some errands to run before work. I got rained out."

"I see that." Mom raised a brow. "You look like a drowned rat."

"Thanks," said Rose dryly.

"How is your father?"

"He's fine," Rose answered distractedly.

She couldn't stop picturing Jackson as he'd stood in the driveway, the graveness in his voice. I made mistakes, he'd said. Had he been talking about the hedge or...other things?

"And that McBride fellow?" Mom asked. "What's his name?"

"Jackson," Rose mumbled. She blinked and looked at her mother. "What?"

Mom waved her hand. "Oh, honey. I'm not completely out of touch."

Rose folded her arms. "You could have fooled me."

"Rose." Lily's voice held a warning.

Mom set her cup down on the table and spoke airily. "Now, girls, I know a thing or two about love." She looked at Rose pointedly. "And I know a woman who's pining when I see one."

Rose frowned. "I don't think that's any of your business."

"I'm your mother."

"Then act like it," Rose snapped. "If you're so concerned with who I'm pining for, where were you when I was a teenager?"

Mom shifted in her seat. "Oh, Rose. You always did have thorns."

At the table, Lily's eyes were wide as she looked back and forth between them. Rose took a deep breath, then let it out. The anger drained out of her body, and she let her hands fall limply.

"I just—" She broke off, shaking her head. "Some things are private."

Mom sniffed. "We're women. We talk."

Rose compressed her lips. She wasn't used to girl talk. Perhaps if she'd had a mother to go to when she was a girl, she'd feel differently, but she'd only ever had Lily to confide in, and as the older sister she'd felt she had to keep her questions to herself—her hopes and dreams, and her disappointments, too.

"I have to get ready for work," she muttered. "I have some things to do at Town Hall."

Lily rose from her seat. "Mom and I can entertain each other. Isn't that right, Mom?"

Their mother nodded. "Yes, Lily. That would be lovely." She looked at Rose. "You work too hard, dear."

Rose shrugged. "I like to stay busy."

"Don't be so busy you can't pencil a date into your calendar," Mom scolded. "You're not getting any younger."

Rose bit her tongue. These tardy attempts to parent her were getting on her nerves. It was too little, too late. She made a noncommittal noise and strode out of the kitchen. Lily struck up a conversation with Mom, their voices receding as Rose walked down the hall. Rose tuned them out, but a pang of guilt lanced her heart. She shouldn't use her sister as a buffer. It wasn't fair to Lily. Rose would have to make it up to her later.

After she showered, she dressed in a pair of soft, grey slacks and a white blouse. In the bathroom, she looked at herself in the mirror, clenching a bobby pin between her teeth while she pinned up her hair. She stopped and took the pin out of her mouth. Her hair fell out of its twist and cascaded around her shoulders in dark brown waves.

Maybe she should wear her hair down today. She ran her fingers through her dark tresses. What would Jackson prefer? That day under the willow tree, he had touched her hair, had caressed it with his fingers with a look of wonder on his face. You're so beautiful, Rosie.

She imagined him touching her now as the man he was today. The idea was so vivid, she closed her eyes and grasped the edge of the sink, letting her chin dip toward her chest as she took a shaky breath. The thought of kissing Jackson was overwhelming.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and opened her eyes. There was no time for yearning. She had work to do.

But as she ventured back into the kitchen and grabbed her keys, she couldn't shake the sense of duality that gripped her, as though she were in two places at once—here in the present, in the kitchen on her way to work, the strong and ambitious woman she'd always known herself to be, yet simultaneously clutched in Jackson's embrace back at the house, trembling at the mercy of his kisses as the rain pelted down around them. Only it wasn't a memory this time, it was a wish.

"We'll see you for dinner, Rose?" asked Lily.

Rose nodded with her mind full of Jackson as she opened the door. "Yes. I mean...maybe. I have some things to do." She ducked out of the house. "I'll call you."

As she started the truck and backed out of the driveway, angling toward Town Hall, her thoughts were on the prospect of working with Jackson again later, as she'd promised. For the first time in her brief municipal career, she couldn't wait to get work over with.

The day passed quickly, with meeting after meeting in the conference room. Rose hardly spent any time in her office all day, which was fine with her since it still smacked of the former mayor's taste in furnishings. During her short tenure, she'd barely had any time to imprint herself on the space. The mahogany desk was absurd. She wondered how much Alex Decker's champagne tastes had cost the Town of Dogwood.

Around noon, Herman Huang from the hardware store called to remind her to light a fire under the building inspector, who was behind in his permit approvals.

"It's a cascade effect, Mayor Whitfield," Mr. Huang said over the phone. "You understand. If the trades can't get permits, they don't come into the store for materials."

"I hear you," she said solemnly. "I'll look into it."

Finally, by four o'clock, Rose was preparing to leave when the receptionist poked her head into her office and told her that Alex Decker was at the front counter. Rose shuddered.

"Thank you, Jas," she said as she arranged the papers on her desk. "I'll be out in a minute."

Jas fiddled with the end of her long, black braid. "He said to hurry."

Rose chose her words carefully. "Mr. Decker is no longer Mayor. He has no authority over you. Or me." She took a steadying breath. "I'll be out shortly. Don't worry. You did the right thing by coming to get me."

Jas retreated, and Rose leaned back in her chair and pressed her fingertips to her eyes. She wasn't in the mood for Decker. She had places to be. At last, she sighed and gathered her things.

She found him waiting at the front desk, leaning on the long counter that separated Town Hall employees from the public. He looked indolent, as though he had all the time in the world to stand around and harass public servants, which she supposed he did, since he was recently out of a job. Rose suspected he hadn't planned on losing the election. He seemed to be having a hard time getting over it.

Decker looked up when she entered the office.

"Rose," he said, tossing back the hank of grey-blond hair that fell over his eyes.

She stopped and set her bag down at her feet, keeping the counter between them like a veneer of stained-oak professionalism. She hoped he got the point. He was the public, now, no longer a civil servant, though his resistance toward addressing her as Mayor seemed to indicate he didn't get it at all.

"Mr. Decker. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He scanned her with beady, grey eyes. "Let's not mince words, shall we? What are the McBrides doing in Dogwood?"

Rose shook her head. "I don't know. I'm sure you can ask them."

Decker smirked. "I thought I would go through you, since you seem to know them so well."

She lifted her chin and kept her voice even. "I'm not sure what you're implying."

"I recall you and those boys were close." He leaned forward conspiratorially without lowering his voice. "You and the youngest one, especially. Jackson, is it? Your father is employed by the McBride family, is he not? If Jackson is here on business, that seems like a conflict you may want to address."

Rose lowered her brows. "The Town of Dogwood is well aware of my father's relationship to the McBride family. I assure you, there is no conflict of interest."

"They're not here about the airport, then?" He narrowed his eyes.

She drew back her shoulders, wishing she were taller. "To my knowledge, their visit has nothing to do with the airport. If it did, I would recuse myself from any decisions regarding it, since the town would need to approve or reject any applications related to Maple Airlines and Town property." She looked at him pointedly. "I'm aware of the potential conflict. There isn't one."

Decker straightened. "See that there isn't, Rose. I'd hate to see your impartiality questioned."

He turned to go. Rose scowled at his back. As the door closed behind him, she grabbed her bag and shook her head, grumbling. The man was a sore loser.

"I'll see you Monday, Jas," she said to the receptionist.

Jas nodded, wide eyed. Clearly, she had heard their whole exchange. "Yes, Mayor."

Rose used the back door so she could avoid any more run-ins with Decker. When she got outside, the rain had stopped, and the day had turned muggy and warm. She drove through town toward the McBride house, chewing on her lip and pondering Decker's threat. She would have to deal with him, and soon, but she wasn't sure how.