Page 137 of Tessa and Nash

Mayor Caldwell lifts a hand. “Mr. Lawson.”

“I’m just saying,” he continues, unbothered. “Would hate for the town to green-light something that turns into a legal mess later.”

“Are there specific disputes you’re referencing?” I ask, and I hear the edge I can’t quite sand down.

Hank smiles, enjoying a private joke. “Just rumors. History has a way of surfacing when money gets involved.”

I feel it then. The thing that’s been humming under my skin since Juniper House. Since the realization that nothing we stand on is as clean as we tell ourselves it is.

Mayor Caldwell clears her throat. “There have been inquiries.”

My stomach tightens.

“Inquiries from whom?” I ask.

She doesn’t answer immediately. She looks at me instead, weighing everything.

“The Long estate,” she says finally.

The room goes quiet.

I blink. “The Longs?”

“Yes,” she says. “Specifically regarding historical access rights along the creek line tied to a property registered under the Long name.”

Damn Thomas.

“Those concerns don’t change the current deed,” I say carefully.

“No,” Mayor Caldwell agrees. “But they do raise questions the committee can’t ignore.”

Someone clears their throat.

“Well,” I declare, finding the words spilling out of my mouth once more. “Me and Tessa are getting married, so…”

That was not the line I planned.

It hangs there anyway.

Mayor Caldwell’s brows lift just a fraction. The way people look when they’re deciding whether to believe you or politely let you keep talking until you tangle yourself up.

Hank Lawson doesn’t bother hiding his smirk.

“Well, congratulations,” he says. “That supposed to settle a hundred years of paperwork?”

I clench my jaw.

“I’m saying,” I continue, forcing my voice back into something calm, “that there’s no appetite on either side for a public dispute. This isn’t a land grab. It’s a development proposal that stays within existing boundaries.”

Mayor Caldwell folds her hands. “The concern isn’t appetite, Mr. McCoy. It’s precedent.”

I nod slowly. “I understand that.”

Do I? I’m not sure anymore. Two weeks ago, precedent meant zoning laws and septic requirements. Now it means men long dead shaking hands in winter and never writing it down.

“We’ll need updated surveys,” she continues. “A full review of historical filings related to the creek line. And if the Long estate continues to raise concerns, we may need county involvement.”

The word county drops hard as a rock in my gut.