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“As well as anybody in the church, I suppose.”
“Anybody dislike the man?”
“Not that I know of.” She thought back six years, when the council was going through the recruiting process to replace the old pastor. “There was a faction who favored the other candidate, but that’s normal.”
“Who was the other contender?”
“Billy Peckham.” Now that she recalled, there was a lot of bad blood over Pastor Zack’s hiring. “Billy was a local boy. Bright enough and well-liked. His father’s family is one of the wealthier clans in town. They hold a lot of political power. There are Peckham judges, and more than a few county administrators, plus two sheriff’s deputies and a retired school principal. A number of folks thought adding head of the local church to their collection was a step too far. Plus, Billy was young. Redemption Creek would have been his first position after seminary. That didn’t sit well with many people, either.”
“So the council hired Zack Myles instead.”
She nodded.
“Any other viable candidates?”
She had to think about that. She and Pete were dating at the time. She’d been in her own world back then. Except for the store, the town had been on the periphery of her life.
“None that stick in my mind, but we could ask Petra Moscowitz. She was the town clerk for years. Long retired now, but if I remember right, she was on the hiring committee.”
She trusted Petra. Valued her opinions. Old enough to be her grandmother, the woman had been in Redemption Creek for over fifty years.
Bridger strolled back to the counter, his movements fluid, belying the way he studied the empty parking lot. “Sounds like a good place to start. I think I’ll head over. Tai can hang here with you.”
Uh, no. There he went again, trying to dictate terms. “Petra’s my friend. I’m going, too.”
Tai was wriggling out of a too-small fishing vest. He paused, the garment halfway down his muscled arms and watched the two of them.
Bridger ran a hand down his face, pressing so hard she could hear the rasp of stubble against his palm. “Fine. Sure. Better to have you where I can see you.”
She straightened the tiny American flag in front of the register. “Right back atcha.”
Tai turned away, hiding a grin.
Was that a tearing sound?
She sighed to herself. The man was sweet, but it was like having a bear in the store.
Tai put the vest back on its hangar with exaggerated care. Definitely a tearing sound. She’d have to put the thing on the sale rack.
“It’ll be good to have you there,” Bridger said. “You can provide an opening. Start the conversation rolling.”
His words were way more optimistic than his tone.
No problem. She was a baby sister. She knew how to ignore impatience and exasperation. Bridger’s moods were nothing compared to Jason’s during the dreaded teenage years.
“You’ll get way more info from Petra if you let me do the talking,” she said. “She’s a smart woman, and she doesn’t suffer fools. If she likes you, great. If she doesn’t, there’s not a thing you can do to change her mind.”
Bridger muttered something she couldn’t quite make out.
“Great,” she said brightly, refusing to take the bait. “I owe Petra a hay delivery. I’ll show you where to load it in the trailer.”
Bridger rubbed his elbow and slid Tai a look. “Perfect.”
The bigger man brightened. “Sounds like a good workout. I’m in.”
21
Closer to eighty than seventy,Petra Moskovitz was everything Jane described, not that Bridger had any intention of letting Jane know she’d been right to come along.
