He hung up and was about to pull out when his phone started ringing again, but this time it wasn’t his mother.
“Brody Wallace? Jan Ramirez here. From WQAI, channel four. Edna Francis contacted me about your run for mayor.” WQAI was one of the only local news stations—in the city of Alpine forty minutes down the road.
This was probably what Miss Francis had called him about. “Did she?” He chuckled. “That woman is full of surprises.”
“Yes, sir. She’s quite a fan.” He could hear the smile in the woman’s voice. “And she’s convinced me that I need to interview you,” she said.
He paused. “Oh? I know firsthand how persuasive she can be.” She’d talked him into running for mayor, after all.
She laughed. “You’re smart to have her on your campaign, Mr. Wallace. Her enthusiasm is contagious. We’d like to do a segment on you and your family. A sort of reintroduction to the community as Fort Kyle’s next mayor. You know, a real human interest story.”
He should be flattered—thrilled at the exposure—but he wasn’t.
“Would you be free Saturday? We’ll come down, spend the day with you, and then air segments all next week at the five and ten o’clock news.” She paused, clearly waiting for his response.
He cleared his throat, processing. He might be running unopposed, but he’d be working with neighboring towns and counties—this would give them a look at who he was and what he stood for. For that, he was thankful.
“Mr. Wallace?”
“Might want to hold off until this rain clears. Hate to have ya’ll washed into a ravine on my account.”
She laughed. “According to our weatherman, the rain should clear out before eight tonight. Where would you like to meet?”
“The fort.” It was neutral territory—the perfect place for determining just how up close and personal Jan Ramirez needed to get with the rest of his family.
“Perfect. We’ll plan to be there around ten?”
“Sounds like a plan.” A plan that could blow up in his face. “I look forward to meeting you in person.” They exchanged a few more pleasantries before he hung up, hoping like hell he hadn’t just shot himself in the foot.
He hurried through the grocery store and then checked out, sighing at the astronomical price of the dog food his mother had special-ordered.
By the time he was headed back to the ranch, he was soaking wet. He’d be lucky to get home in time for dinner and playtime with the girls before bed. He grinned, thinking about how tickled Amberleigh would be over the dinosaur Band-Aids he’d found. They weren’t dragons, but they were close.
He pulled into the barn and parked. His phone rang. “Brody here.”
“Hey, Brody, it’s Daniel. I’m taking the tow truck out to pick up the truck on the ridge. I’ll tow it back to Click’s place and take a look at it there. As soon as I know what we’re looking at, I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks, Daniel, I appreciate it. If the roads are too bad, don’t take any chances.”
“Nah, man, I kick it into four-wheel drive and have some fun. See ya,” he said, and hung up.
Brody pulled India’s number from his pocket, texted her the news and stared at the screen. He had so much more to say. In person. He ran through the rain to the house—groceries in tow.
“Wipe your feet,” his mother called out.
“It won’t make a difference. Might as well bring me a towel,” he argued, standing on the welcome mat.
“Daddy!” Suellen came barreling at him, coming to a complete halt a foot away. “You’re wet, Daddy.”
“I am, sugar. It’s raining buckets out there,” he agreed. “Can you get a towel from Nana?”
Suellen nodded and ran off.
“Daddy’s making a mess,” Marilyn chastised him.
“Think I’ll get in trouble?” he asked.
Marilyn shrugged.