Page 72 of Holding Ground

Sorry, Emelia, you shouldn’t have been cc’d on this. Please disregard.

Happy that I have one less thing to do, I’m about to delete the email and not even read the original, when a word on the attachment catches my eye.

Echo Lake.

A horrible dread fills my gut that nothing about this will be good.

I open the attachment, curious why something related to the project I’m on should be disregarded.

It’s a copy of all the bylaws and zoning restrictions on a lakefront property in Echo Lake. But it’s not the city-owned property my firm is currently trying to develop. Worry settles in the pit of my stomach and grows as I scroll through the attachment.

Did she pull information for the wrong property? Is that why she told me to disregard? It could be as simple as that, but something tells me that may not be the case.

I take a look at the other recipients on the original email and see my boss’s name as well as a couple higher up on the food chain.

The first thing I do is go to the land registry database to see who owns the parcel in question, but when I get my answer, it doesn’t tell me anything. It’s registered to a corporation.

Maybe the owner of the parcel contacted our firm about buying them out after they heard about the existing land we’re trying to develop? It wouldn’t be the first time something like that has happened. But something about it doesn’t sit right with me.

I could easily ask around town who owns the property and probably get my answer, but that would raise too many red flags, and as of right now, I’m not even sure it’s warranted.

No, I can’t jeopardize this project and my job for nothing.

The front door opens, and I make a mental note to do some more digging on my own.

Baylor bursts into the room and rushes over to me. “Emelia, we went to Deacon’s, and he made a pastry for you.”

Elliott walks into the house after her, and my gaze snags on him. He’s dressed in his usual jeans with a white Henley and a brown flannel shirt, unbuttoned, over it. We share a knowing smile, and I can tell he’s thinking the same thing about me.

And I try not to think about how much I like that we’re on the same page.

I didn’t really see him today because he was busy at the camp, then working on the bunkie and trying to get it back to livable condition. I’m not sure I even want to move back in there at this point.

“Did you hear me?”

Baylor’s voice draws my attention from mentally undressing her father back to her.

“Deacon named a pastry after me?”

She nods enthusiastically. “Yup, it’s called the…” She frowns and turns to look at her dad. “What’s it called, Daddy?”

“Emelia’s Compass. Apparently, you’re looking for true north.”

His words resonate, and I still. Every time I’ve been to the Birdhouse Bakery, it’s only had pastries named after residents. I’m just passing through. I guess I’ll be the first retired pastry.

“I had one. It was really yummy,” Baylor says.

I turn to look at her and smile. “Well then, I’ll definitely try one next time I’m in there.”

Elliott takes off his boots and leaves them at the front door before walking into the room. “Kiddo, why don’t you go play in your room so that Emelia can finish her work? I’ll come play with you in a second.”

“Okay, Daddy.” Baylor returns her attention to me. “Can I do your hair after dinner?”

I love how this little girl’s mind works. We’ll be talking about one thing, then she’ll completely upend the conversation by moving onto something else with zero segue. “Absolutely.”

“Yay!” She runs off to her bedroom, and I turn my attention to Elliott.

He walks toward the kitchen and nods for me to follow.