Page 77 of Tessa and Nash

The mayor sets her pen down.

“I’m not promising approval today,” she says. “But I am saying I see potential here.”

Hope surges so hard I almost choke on it.

“Thank you,” I manage, meaning it.

She nods. “Now. There is one concern we need to address before this goes any further.”

My stomach drops.

Of course there is.

Her gaze shifts to Faith, then back to me.

“Land boundaries,” she says.

I blink. “Land boundaries?”

Faith’s posture stays calm, but her fingers still on the trackpad.

Mayor Caldwell taps her binder. “There are questions about a portion of the east parcel where you’ve proposed the cabin sites.”

I frown. “That’s McCoy land.”

“That’s the McCoy claim,” she corrects gently.

The air in the room changes.

“What does that mean?”

Mayor Caldwell exhales, controlled. “It means the Long family has filed concerns regarding historical access rights along the creek line. Specifically related to a property deed connected to the Long estate.”

My brain stutters.

“The Long estate?” I repeat. “You mean Tessa’s house? That’s not anywhere near⁠—”

“No,” she says, and the word feels careful. “Not the house in town. The remote property. Juniper House. The one registered under the Long name on Old Mill Road extension.”

I stare at her.

My mouth goes dry.

Faith’s gaze flicks to me, quick and sharp. You didn’t know about this?

No. I did not.

“The Longs own land out there?” I ask, and I hear how stupid I sound.

Mayor Caldwell watches me carefully. “It’s complicated. Some of it is old record. Some of it is unclear. But the concern is enough that the planning committee can’t ignore it.”

I swallow hard. “Is this because of the engagement?”

Mayor Caldwell folds her hands again. “The town is curious. People assume your engagement to Ms. Long means the families are… resolving old issues.”

My throat tightens.

People assume.