Page 38 of Her Wild Coast Promise

I’m sure my smile makes me look out of place here, but I’ve never felt more at home. As a child, I spent enough time at the Rogue Valley Sheriff’s Department that they kept a little desk for me with crayons and coloring books.

“I’m Cora Tucker. I have a meeting with Deputy Dalton.”

The woman’s wise, dark eyes shift from scrutinizing me to the clipboard she slides under the window. “Sign in and have a seat, please.”

While I add my signature to today’s roster, I scan the two other names, but neither belong to Peyton Reece or her father.

That’s good. I need to inform Seth not to meet with either of them during the campaign without me. I choose a seat, but just as I lower into it, the door opposite me pops open and Seth leans out.

His eyes brighten, like he’s glad to see me, even though the reason isn’t high on his list.

I bounce to my feet.

Seth eyes the receptionist. “Bonnie, Cora’s going to be helping out with the election.”

Bonnie gives me an easy nod. “Welcome. You need anything, just holler.”

“Thank you,” I say.

Seth steps back to let me through, giving me a hit of his minty scent and warmth. “I have us in the conference room,” he says from behind me while we walk down the hall.

The walls are lined with faded prints of nature scenes—the snowy McKenzie range, the rugged coastline, fishing boats at sunrise, a detailed map of the valley, and a picture of Chief Kauffman in his uniform. A rush of nostalgia rises through me, bringing memories of my childhood and the months I led my brother’s campaign. It’s a sense of belonging, and purpose, and it’s so powerful I have to discreetly dab the corner of my eye as we turn into the conference room so Seth won’t notice.

Inside the narrow room is an oval table with a projector plugged into an outlet in the middle, the lens facing the whiteboard on the left wall. Half a dozen chairs are tucked in neatly. On the right side of the room is a counter space and cupboard which holds a coffee pot, diner-style cups, and napkins.

“Coffee?” Seth asks. “I made it myself.”

“Sure.” My voice comes out breathy. “Water too, please, if you have it.”

Seth walks to the counter and pours two cups of coffee and grabs a bottle of water from the cabinet below. I stay busy unpacking my laptop and notebook so I’m not tempted to admire the view.

The minute hand on the wall clock advances to 10:02, snapping me back to my agenda. I slide out my notebook and laptop and open the tab for the CRM, aptly named “In It To Win It”.

“How was the rest of your morning?” Seth asks, settling in next to me.

“The chief and Kayla are lovely. They were very helpful.” I take my coffee and blow across the surface. “Kayla gave me lots of ideas, and Bill plans to formally endorse you as soon as we announce your commitment to running.”

“That’s great.”

I nod at the campaign web page I’ve been working on. “I just need your approval, and we can go live.”

Seth sets his coffee aside and focuses on the screen, reading and scrolling.

“Wow, you did all this?” He glances my way before returning to his tour.

“The templates make the formatting pretty easy.”

“Still,” he says, shaking his head. He clicks around, completely absorbed. When he gets to the support page, he frowns.

“We’re asking for money?”

“Unless you’ve got a funding source you haven’t told me about, yes.”

Seth sits back, his eyes troubled. “I don’t want people to feel obligated to offer financial support.”

“Totally understandable,” I say in a kind voice. “You’re a cop, not a politician.”

He nods, but his face is still tense.

---