Page 6 of Wildly Yours (Owl Creek #3)

S omehow Serena and I managed a truce for more than an hour and then I had to go and screw it up.

I don’t know why I can’t be straight with her.

She deserves the truth about what happened all those years ago, but all I can manage is being a fucking coward.

There is no one else who makes me fear judgement like her.

No one else who I don’t want to disappoint more than her.

And no one else who makes me feel hope like she does, before I remember who I am and what I’m capable of.

And if I'm being honest with myself, there no one else who I want to be with, to bask in their presence, more than her .

I climb into my truck and drive to the park where I work and live.

Other than the mining operation on the adjacent land, it’s paradise.

There’s almost no one else up here because there’s only one small campground.

Everyone else who works here lives in town, so most of the year it’s just me, the frogs and birds, and the dark starry sky.

I park next to the visitor center and check in with the volunteers who are finishing their shifts.

You gotta love retired people. They are some of the most passionate volunteers a community can have, and our park would not run right without them, mostly because of all the budget cuts over the years that have left us on a bare bones crew.

Which means without making any phone calls to the state agencies that fund parks, I already know there isn’t going to be any money to buy Mr. Miller’s land.

I lock up the center and lay all the documents I got from Serena on my desk before firing up my aging desktop computer. Everything around here needs fixing or replacing, and the weight of it all starts to press against my mind.

Where am I going to get the money? And how am I going to help Serena?

Guys like Blake Johnson require a certain type of handling.

He’s got some outdated ideas about the world that she’s too kind-hearted to see.

He won’t say it in public, but I know he doesn’t have a problem with the library so much as he doesn’t approve of a woman being mayor of this town.

I open a web browser and start hunting for ideas for funding. There has to be a grant or foundation that can help, and I need to find a solution to at least one problem or my nerves are going to be shot to hell for the foreseeable future.

***

Three hours and a pot of coffee later, I’m wired and haven’t made any progress except towards an increase in cynicism about the world.

I click on one last link for a funding opportunity through a federal portal, and cross my fingers.

I read through the grant summary and think there’s a chance this could work, but it requires a community match of funds.

Which means I’m back to where I started. Unless…