next couple of weeks,” Marcus said.
Kendall blinked. “Since when did I get voted spokesman?”
Marcus looked at Porter, then raised his hand. “I vote for Kendall to be our spokesman to the D.O.E. rep.”
Porter raised his hand. “Ditto.”
Marcus turned back to Kendall. “You’re in.”
Kendall frowned, but knew when he was outnumbered. “I assume this will involve some sort of presentation?”
“And a tour,” Marcus said. “Plus lots of schmoozing to make sure we don’t lose our grant for being behind schedule.”
“We’re in good shape,” Porter insisted with a sense of casual confidence that Kendall envied. “Our downtown is growing every day. The clinic received Rural Health Clinic certification, the helipad is done, we have a school, a General Store and a post office.”
“The post office is inside the General Store,” Marcus added.
“For now,” Porter countered.
“The most important thing is we got our zip code,” Kendall said. Since the tiny post office had opened, he’d checked every day for a letter from Amy. So far—nothing.
“Right,” Porter said. “Demand for our recycled mulch is growing, the windmill farm is generating power for the town, the community garden is supplying seasonal produce for the dining hall.”
Marcus winced. “We’ll be in trouble if the representative eats at the dining hall.”
Porter nodded. Colonel Molly McIntyre ran a tight ship, but the cuisine wasn’t exactly cruise-worthy.
“Maybe we can distract Molly with the Lost and Found webpage, then ask someone else to step in for the day,” Kendall suggested.
Porter snapped his fingers. “The D.O.E. rep should see the town’s new website. All of our progress is recorded there, with photos.”
Kendall nodded, glad to have his mind diverted from…well, there he went again, thinking of Amy. He gave himself a mental shake. “Okay, I’ll prepare a presentation. Meanwhile, what’s next on our plate?”
“The residents are asking for a church,” Porter remarked. “A lot of couples are pairing up.”
“But we don’t even have a minister,” Marcus countered.
“Because we don’t have a church,” Porter said.
Marcus arched an eyebrow. “Are you planning to walk down the aisle soon?”
Porter blanched. “N-no. Nikki and I haven’t…gotten…that far.”
Kendall bit back a smile at his little brother’s sudden nervousness. He had no doubt Porter was head over heels for the doctor, but everyone—including Porter—had assumed he’d be a bachelor forever. He was still easing into the idea of being half of a couple.
“For now then,” Marcus said pointedly, “we can continue to hold services in the dining hall or in the great room of the boardinghouse. I think we need to shift our focus to rebuilding Evermore Bridge over Timber Creek.” Marcus walked over to an aerial map and pointed to a large green section of land.
“This land is within the city limits, but it’s cut off from everything else. I think we should relocate the recycling center we’re planning to build to this parcel, away from town because of potential noise levels. A new bridge will make this farmland accessible for other projects, too. I received a proposal this week from a scientist who’s looking into new uses for kudzu.”
Porter snorted. “That vile weed has a use?”
The Japanese vine had been introduced to the state of Georgia as ground cover along the inter-states, but had taken on a life of its own, spreading via seed and runners, consuming anything that didn’t move. Virulent and aggressive, kudzu was widely considered a nuisance.
“This man thinks it produces a chemical that can treat Alzheimer’s.”
Kendall wiped his hand over his mouth. There were some moments when the brothers couldn’t believe the ramifications of this undertaking—this green experiment was so much bigger than just rebuilding their mountain hometown. “What is he asking for?”
“He has his own grant for a laboratory and staff. He’s asking for a half-acre of land for his lab, and twenty-five acres of kudzu.”
“Hell, let’s give him fifty acres of the stuff,” Porter said.
“Okay, this one’s yours.” Marcus handed him a printed email, then turned back to the map. “I say we rezone this entire parcel for commercial use,” Marcus said, “but we have to provide access to it. That’s why I think we need to move the bridge up on our priority list.”
“Kendall can build us a new bridge,” Porter said.
At his brother’s reference to his civil engineering degree, Kendall made a rueful noise. “But I can’t design one. We need a structural engineer for that.”
Porter held up his finger. “I—”
“Got it covered,” Marcus cut in, giving Porter a look that said he’d take care of finding a structural engineer. He glanced at Kendall. “That will free you up to get ready for the D.O.E. rep.”
Kendall nodded. “I trust your judgment. We’re going to need some crackerjack contractors, too, guys who know how to pour concrete in cold temperatures.”
“Understood,” Marcus said, then he clapped Porter on the back. “While Kendall and I build a bridge, you can get started on a church if you want.”
Porter pursed his mouth. “I think you’re right—we should hold off for now. I think I’ll go scout out the parcel across the creek.”
Marcus smiled. “Thought you might.”
Porter left and Kendall stood, then reached for his laptop. “Guess I’ll head to the media room and get started on that presentation.”
Marcus nodded. “Sounds good.”
Kendall reached the door, then turned back. “Marcus, about earlier…”
“Yeah, sorry about that, man.”
“No…you’re right—I need to move on. Thanks for the wake-up call.”
“Sure thing,” Marcus said, then picked up his phone. “Speaking of calls, I need to make some.”
“Right. See you later.” Kendall grabbed a jacket, then turned and walked out of the office trailer toward the center of town. The temperature was bracingly cool, just what he needed at the moment to clear his head.
As he approached the crop of buildings that made up the new downtown area, he realized they had much to be proud of. School was letting out, and the sound of children’s laughter hung in the air. Pedestrians bustled around and a couple of cars rolled down Main Street. Soon they would have
