A Canyon Springs Courtship. Glynna Kaye

to get along with most of the time, just like your grandfather was. With some effort on your part, I bet you and Macy would hit it off.”

      No way would he woo Macy Colston, no matter how noble the cause. He’d steer clear of her in the coming weeks, keeping an eye on her through her blog posts and stepping in only if a questionable situation warranted it. Even if he had any interest in seeing more of the woman—which he didn’t—he had more pressing obligations than babysitting a tenacious journalist. Seeing to Grandma’s welfare for one. The Canyon Springs history book for another. And he had to make sure the city council didn’t do something stupid with the property his grandfather had willed to the town. What had Granddad been thinking when he’d done that anyway?

      “Now look, Gus, you know I don’t—”

      The big man waved him away. “If you want to get the rest of the council on your side about what to do with that prime bit of real estate the city inherited, it might serve you well to put effort into this. You know, prove you’re a team player.”

      Gus had a point. Even though he didn’t vocalize Jake’s added hopes for the vice mayorship, Jake knew the other man was thinking about it, too. There were those who still said his election last year was a fluke considering his sole opposition had abruptly withdrawn from the race. But then again, this was Macy they were talking about....

      “Can’t spare the time, Gus.”

      “You work too hard. Need to loosen up.” The older man folded his arms. “If you won’t step up for the good of the town, do it for yourself. Have a little fun for a change. This might be your last chance to catch the eye of a looker like Macy Colston. You’re—what? Thirty-two? Thirty-three?”

      Thirty-five.

      “Give it a shot, Councilman. What do you have to lose?”

      Jake stood and punched the intercom button on his desk phone. “Phyllis Diane, would you please call Rob McGuire? I’m supposed to meet him at Singing Rock. Tell him I’m on my way and I apologize in advance for being a few minutes late.”

      “Happy to oblige, Jake,” his office assistant responded with a soft Texas drawl. Always amiable, even when putting in Saturday overtime hours, he nevertheless figured it was only a matter of time before she headed for greener pastures and left him and his law partner high and dry.

      He pressed the off button and, mustering a smile, snagged his Windbreaker from the antique coat tree behind him. “I appreciate your confidence in my persuasive abilities, Mr. Mayor, but this case is officially closed.”

      * * *

      Macy’s cell phone played a merry tune and she crossed the room to pull it from the purse she’d left on what looked to be a homemade quilted bedspread. In fact, everything she’d seen of this two-story log cabin lodge and restaurant oozed rustic charm, from its wooden-planked porch to a natural stone fireplace in the lobby to her antiques-filled room. The whole town held such promise...if it wasn’t for Jake calling Canyon Springs home.

      “It’s about time you answered.” The familiar voice of her agent-publicist carried across the miles with her usual crisp, no-nonsense tone. You’d have thought she was a native New Yorker and not a Midwestern transplant.

      “Hey, sis.” Brushing back her hair, Macy sat on the bed and kicked off her sandals. She’d have to buy more substantial footwear for the coming days if this weather kept up. A heavier coat, too. Maybe gloves.

      “So are you at your next assignment yet?”

      “I checked in right before lunch. But I should have brought boots.”

      “It’s raining?”

      “Snowing.”

      Silence. Then came a cautious query. “The schedule shows you’re in Arizona...right?”

      Macy envisioned her older sister, brow puckered as she shook back her pricey, chin-length bob.

      “Nicole, do you remember how we were told Canyon Springs would give my readers a different perspective on the Grand Canyon state? Well, they weren’t kidding. It’s smack in the middle of a huge forest of ponderosa pines. Flocked in white at the moment. Absolutely breathtaking.”

      “But it’s April.”

      “And it looks like Christmas.” She returned to the window, where fluffy flakes still descended lightly. “I plan to get out and snap a few more photos. With temperatures spiking over much of the country, my readers will love this.”

      “Which reminds me of why I called you. I heard from Vanessa this morning.”

      Vanessa Riker was the contact person for Macy’s primary blog sponsor, a rapidly expanding chain of organic food store-restaurant combos.

      “She mentioned,” Nicole continued, “that their new board is coming close to a decision on increasing their sponsorship. You know what that means, don’t you?”

      Macy’s spirits rose in anticipation. “It means I’m closer to doing this full time. No more scrimping to get by. No more cramming in freelance work on the side.”

      “It’s bigger than that. Vanessa says they’re not only discussing covering publication costs of a book, but a series of books gleaned from your blog posts. You’d retain the rights, but they’d be exclusively available at all their locations and on their website—with a sweeter than sweet royalty deal for you. And—”

      Macy drew in a breath. There was an and?

      “—Vanessa said they see real marketing potential tied to your blog. In fact, they asked me to see if you’d be interested in doing a television program.”

      At her sister’s words, Macy lowered herself onto an oak rocking chair. She’d hoped for something like this, but hadn’t expected to see it happen so soon. “A television show?”

      “They’ve contacted an independent agency to see about the possibility of creating and pitching a pilot to a specialty network. She mentioned there’s genuine interest on their part in committing to commercial time for such a program.”

      “Wow.”

      “It’s still in the brainstorming stage, but something along the lines of a reality-type program. You know, traveling across America to visit little towns just like you do now. But Vanessa mentioned that in order to justify an investment of that magnitude, you need higher numbers on your blog to draw more traffic to their business. And to get that, you need to give your readers more of what’s being asked for.”

      Something juicy. Uncovering a local scandal piece by piece, with cliffhangers from blog to blog. Something Jake would certainly be dead set against, but she wasn’t about to mention to her sister his presence or his opposition. Like Mom, she’d remember Jake from Macy’s university days. They already believed he’d derailed her from a promising career in investigative journalism, undermining her confidence in the direction she’d been heading.

      Stop chasing butterflies, her mother had frequently warned her when as a child she’d failed to apply herself to a task at hand. She’d done well to follow that admonition—until Jake came along and she’d nearly allowed herself to get sidetracked. But she was back in the saddle and galloping toward a goal once more. Her professional blogging and human interest story freelancing hadn’t won any accolades from her family—until now—and she wasn’t about to be unseated again.

      “It never ceases to amaze me,” Nicole continued, “how transparent people are willing to be with you in exchange for their fifteen minutes of fame.”

      Macy laughed. “I’d be surprised, too, if there isn’t a juicy story hidden in the closet of every little town.”

      At least that was her hope.

      “Vanessa says while they’ve seen gradual improvement with the direction you’ve taken lately, you can’t rely on lame revelations like that recent one about the youth group leader. You know, the one who slipped