His Winter Rose and Apple Blossom Bride by Lois Richer Page B

take care of a lot of the kids’ entertainment. Then, of course, there’s the miniature golf course and I expect other venues will pop up as time passes.”
    “But.” He knew he heard it in there somewhere.
    “But I got dreaming about a real golf course. Is it feasible? Could the town chip in enough land or perks, something that would make it attractive for a developer to put in his hotel, include a pool, a couple of conference rooms and maybe nine holes of golf?”
    Jason stared. He opened his mouth but she held up a hand when he would have spoken. Her smile held a hint of self-mockery.
    “In the beginning I thought, not too luxe. But if a businessman or woman brought their family along, while attending a training seminar in the hotel’s conference rooms—wouldn’t having some nearby links make sense? You know—meet for a round of golf and not feel guilty because the rest of the family are enjoying their own activities. Think about Banff. That’s their draw. The scenery, something for everybody. We have that right here.”
    “Wow!” He couldn’t help admiring her ideas.
    “I know you think it’s too big, nothing like you were envisioning for a start. And I agree. It’s just one of those ideas that’s been floating around. Still, thinking ahead could save us problems down the road, if we plan carefully.”
    He liked the way she included him, as if they were partners in this venture.
    “Wainwright Hotels could certainly offer all of that,” he murmured, assessing her reaction.
    Piper’s head jerked the tiniest bit. She turned to look at him but her face gave nothing away.
    “They could. But right now I doubt they’re in a position to commit to that much development in an untried area. And they have labor problems.” She held out a piece torn from a newspaper detailing the issues. “Look at this. It’s unlikely we’d command their focus at the moment. I’d prefer to look into other options.”
    “You keep saying that. Who are these ‘other options’?” he asked. He scanned the report, recognized the facts as those he’d already researched. He set it down, feeling that she was still holding something back.
    Then something clicked.
    “Piper, is there something you haven’t told me? Some specific reason you don’t want to work with Wainwright?”
    She’d been peering at a notepad on the table but now she looked at him directly and blinked. “A reason?”
    “Yes.” He felt slightly foolish saying this but if there was a chance... “Have you had some problem working with their team? Because—”
    She shook her head, her curls bouncing wildly. “I’ve already told you my reasons. I don’t think Wainwright is a good fit for Serenity Bay.”
    “Why?”
    Piper fixed him with a hard look.
    “This will probably sound sentimental and rather silly but this place was a haven for me. I found so much joy in Serenity Bay that I’m not sure I would have found elsewhere. I’d like to think I was passing it on.” She tilted her head. “I feel like I’ve been given a kind of trust to help develop the Bay. That carries a certain responsibility. I don’t want to ruin this beauty by allowing commercialism to overtake what God made. Do you understand?”
    He nodded, feeling a hint of admiration.
    “I understand very well. I think that’s one of the reasons I tried so hard to interest you in the job. It’s a goal we share.” He kept his focus on her. “I’ve noticed that whatever you do, a certain flair, a special touch or attention to detail shines through. I think that’s what makes each of your projects stand out from the others. You really care about the result. It’s not just about money for you.”
    “No, it isn’t. I think the same is true for you.”
    He nodded.
    Their eyes met and held. A tiny flicker of current ran between them. Jason watched her moisten her lips, saw the way the fire caught the red undertones in her dark hair. Inside, a tiny ivy of interest sent down another root