Chapter Four
One week after Jonas had nearly managed to get Sabrina into bed with him—almost!—he sat in the tearoom and bookstore of the Books’n’Bingo Society shop, staring at the three women who were determined to buttonhole him into civic responsibility.
Nadine Waters, Corinne Abernathy and Mavis Night wore smiles on their small, doughy faces that he just didn’t trust. He sipped the tea they’d offered him, and waited for the zinger.
It came with typical directness.
“As you know, Jonas, your aunt Fiona was president of our society for many years. In her absence, I’ve taken over the reins as interim president. However,” Corinne said, stopping for dramatic effect, “we think you should pick up where your aunt left off.”
Jonas set down his teacup. “Ladies, I don’t know the first thing about what this Society does. Nor do I have my aunt’s finesse in whatever it was she did, which mainly appeared to be—” He started to say “being a busybody,” but stopped himself.
“Running this town,” Nadine said, finishing his sentence. “And an admirable job she did of it, too. How Diablo misses Fiona’s sure-handed—”
“Interference,” Jonas said, not realizing he’d spoken aloud.
“Yes,” Mavis said. “There have been times when interference was called for. We could always count on Fiona to have the guts to make the calls that needed to be made, and to take responsibility for the issues that count most to this town.”
“Damn it!” There was that responsibility word again. Why was everyone determined that he was Mr. Fix-It? “I mean, darn it,” Jonas amended, and the ladies’ feathers seemed a bit less ruffled. “While I appreciate your generous offer—it’s quite humbling—I am just not your man.”
They looked at him, downcast.
“Well, I’m not.” Jonas met each gaze with as much diplomatic aplomb as he could muster. “I’m no good at busybodying—let’s call a duck a duck here. That’s what Fiona did. We all jumped to her puppet strings. But I’d make the world’s worst puppeteer.”
“You’d be an excellent ventriloquist,” Nadine said dryly. “A lot of yakking is coming from your mouth right now, Jonas.”
Their expressions seemed to say, Shame on you for shirking your duty!
Jonas sighed. “Really, ladies, I’ve got my hands full. I’ve bought a new ranch—”
“This is your home, whether you ever want to face that or not,” Mavis said. Her silver hair shone in the soft light of the tearoom. “We understand you wanting to separate yourself from your brothers and stake your own claim, but Diablo is where your heart is, Jonas. Even if Fiona did say you had wandering feet.”
He frowned. “We all did.”
Corinne shook her head. “No, Fiona specifically said you were the one who ran from home the minute you could, but unlike most wayward sons, you stayed gone. The only reason you’re here now is probably Sabrina.”
He brushed off his hat. They were right, blast their bright eyes and busy minds! If Sabrina wasn’t here, he’d be at Dark Diablo right now.
But he’d never considered himself a wanderer. “You know, I’d built a very successful practice in Dallas.”
“We know.” Nadine nodded. “And you can do that here.”
He stared, the notion crashing in on him like unwelcome waves. “Here? I don’t want… That is to say—”
“We know,” Mavis said. “You don’t want to live here. You don’t want to take care of the many elderly folk in this town who have tickers that need help just as much as those in the big city. Folks who helped raise you and kept an eye on you since you were in diapers.”
The guilt trip. It was a skillful ploy when used by the right people, and these three were pros. “I never thought about opening a practice here.”
“We know.” Corinne blinked at him. “We think taking this position as president would be a first step in getting your priorities straight.”
Mavis nodded. “Civic duty is a sign of maturity and commitment to community.”
Jonas flattened his mouth. In their minds, this position would begin to solder him to the town and community. But that wasn’t going to help him get his life back on track. Still, a little glad-handing and tea-sipping wouldn’t kill him.
“All right,” he said. “I’ll do it.”
Corinne clapped her hands. “I told you he would!”
Mavis sniffed. “Congratulations, president of the Books’n’Bingo Society and interim mayor of Diablo.”
“Wait,” Jonas said. “You said nothing about a mayorship.”
“Yeah, but it’s past time we had one,” Nadine said. “We appoint you until you can be duly elected.”
“I don’t want—”
“Civic duty,” Corinne said.
Jonas sighed. “Fine. Do you want me to watch the jail or build on to the elementary school or perform any other civic thing while I’m here?”
The ladies smiled at him with approval. “You just help us get Diablo on the map, and you can do anything you want.”
Jonas scowled. He had a new baby to take care of and parents to find. A ranch to get off the ground. Somehow these ladies had caught him in their cookie-baited trap.
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