Page 22 of Where You're Planted

Theminimalbudget for the flood-resistant upgrades, last Jack had calculated it, would eat up nearlyallthe budget for phase one of the expansion, which included the new greenhouse, hiking paths, and the conversion of a barn into new administration offices.

“Robbing Peter to pay Paul?” Jack asked grimly.

“I’m afraid so.”

Well, fuck. He should have been relieved to finally get the flood projects covered. The park’s long-term stability depended on them. But every step forward they made with this guy, he knocked them back another one.

“Any other delightful news for me this morning, Greta?”

“Only a suggestion that I urge you to take.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“Invite the library to partner on the festival.”

“Ah, hell.”

“The library has deep roots in this community, with lots of organizational experience. And I’ve asked around about Tansy. By all accounts, she has good ideas and strong leadership skills. She seems to manage her people very well.”

“And I don’t,” he concluded with a scowl.

“You don’tlikeworking with people. Think of it as delegating.” Her gaze returned to her computer screen, and she slid her glasses back on.

“I’ll do it,” he said, pushing up from the chair. “But for therecord, having some caution with outsiders isn’t crazy.” He rapped his knuckles on the doorframe on his way out. “Tansies, for example, are an invasive species.”

—

He waited until late afternoonto swing by the shed, and when he got there, Tansy was helping an elderly gentleman down the single step.

“Used to just browse the shelves and see what caught my eye,” the man was saying.

“I know. I’m sorry. But you can browse on our website at home, reserve whatever looks good, and we’ll email you when it’s time to pick it up.”

“It’s not the same,” he grunted.

“It’s not,” she agreed, her cheery smile faltering. “I understand.”

“When will you be back in the real library?”

Tansy’s gaze cut to Jack and held for a long moment. There was something familiar in her expression, something he’d seen during the storm. A naked plea. It was so openly vulnerable, he had to look away.

He feigned great interest in the shed’s exterior as she told the man, “We’re doing everything we can to get back into our building.” Not technically a lie, Jack supposed. She probablywasdoing everything in her power to make that happen, unlikely as it was.

The librarians had gotten the green shed’s siding cleaner than he expected. A neat, hand-painted sign that saidThe Little Green Libraryhung on a post. He couldn’t ignore the height of the grass encroaching on the path to the door and itched to kneel down and start pulling weeds.

Just as Tansy’s patron ambled away, Jack spotted two small metal bowls with paw prints around the rims, one filled with water and the other with dry kibble. “What are you feeding out here?”

Tansy tugged her sleeve back up where it had slid down her pale shoulder and retied a little ribbon just under the hollow where her collarbones met, closing a three-inch V in the neckline. Her adjustments only drew his attention to the shadow of cleavage she was covering up. He was so occupied that when she answered, “Kittens,” he’d nearly forgotten what he’d asked her.

“What kittens?”

“The three kittens that live under the shed.”

Jack marched around the way she gestured. “Where?”

She followed. “They wander around during the day.”

“Cats don’t belong in the park.”