He shrugged, then flashed a grin that was quick and easy. "When I had an objective moment to think about it in the middle of the night, I had to laugh. We must have been quite a sight at the Common Ground clinic. The clerk at the front desk directed me there as the closest and best place to get medical treatment."

"I'm glad, then," she said, even though she knew her words could and probably would be interpreted as flirting. Spring couldn't remember the last time she'd flirted with a man.

"Me, too," he said. "We got the best doctor in town."

With a start, she realized that he was flirting with her.

As they enjoyed their beverages, David told her a funny story about Jeremy and a stuffed dinosaur he'd gotten after a visit to the natural history museum.

"The next thing I know, I'm trying to convince him that monsters are not under the bed or in the closet trying to eat him. In retrospect, a dinosaur exhibit may have been a bit much for a three-year-old. The ones at the museum were not purple and cuddly."

She was barely able to keep the laughter from her voice as she told him, "I know for a fact it was too much for a little girl who was six years old."

"You?"

Spring shook her head. "My sister Summer. I was fifteen and she was six when we had to douse the entire house with monster spray before she would settle down."

"Amazing things, those spray bottles filled with water," he said with a grin.

"I wish it had just been water," Spring said. "I added a couple of drops of green food coloring and made up a label that said, 'Certified by the Dinosaur Society of America' to lend it authenticity. Summer stopped crying and went to sleep a.s.sured that our house was safe from dinosaurs that liked to munch on little girls. Unfortunately, Mother didn't appreciate the pale green tint added to her silk-covered throw pillows and dry-clean-only draperies."

"How much trouble did you get into?"

"I had to pay for the cleaning out of my allowance and I was banned from doing any more educational babysitting."

"Wait a minute," he said. "Did you say your sister's name is Summer?"

Spring groaned. "I wondered if you'd caught that. We were the objects of much amus.e.m.e.nt for a while." She lifted a hand before he could say anything else. "There's also a Winter and an Autumn."

She saw his eyes widen, and Spring knew he was trying to wrap his head around the fact that the four sisters were named for the seasons. His grin grew broader.

"Collectively, we were called The Seasons of Love or, more familiarly, simply The Seasons."

"Okay," he said around a sip of his coffee. "I'll bite. Why?"

"Why were we called The Seasons, or why were we named by obvious lunatics?" The amus.e.m.e.nt in her voice conveyed that she bore no real ill will toward said lunatics.

He seemed to be trying to hold the chuckles in, and he just waved a hand in a go-on-with-the-story expansive motion.

"My mother's name is Louvenia, but everyone calls her Lovie. Hence, The Seasons of Love. And that little sister who was certain that a dinosaur would come to life and that she would be its midnight snack is all grown-up and getting married soon."

David c.o.c.ked his head and studied her for a moment. "Why does that bother you?"

Spring's breath caught. "I beg your pardon?"

"Your sister Summer," he said. "Her upcoming wedding bothers you."

"Wh-what would make you say such a thing?"

He shrugged and sat back. "The light. In your eyes, I mean. It seemed to dim a bit when you said she's getting married soon. Is the groom-to-be not quite up to what you'd hoped for your little sister?"

Spring cleared her throat and reached for her latte cup, only to discover it empty. She glanced around, looking for an out, for a way not to get into this. Finding none, she opted for the only option open to her.

"I...I have to leave now," she said. "I'm sorry to have kept you so long. Your mother said you had to prepare for business meetings."

Spring rose, knowing that she was being cool and rude but unable to stop herself.

This man she'd known all of a day had taken one look at her and discerned the secret she thought she hid so well.

Her younger sister had been widowed two years ago, had moved home to Cedar Springs from Georgia and promptly found and fallen in love with Cameron Jackson, the town's fire chief.

It wasn't fair.

Life wasn't fair, and Spring knew at the heart of it she was happy for her sister. Summer had been through a lot and more than deserved any and every happiness she could find. Summer had overcome emotional barriers that Spring didn't think she, the eldest of the Darling girls, would have been able to handle if put in the same set of circ.u.mstances.

"I didn't mean to upset you," David said.

She glanced at the hand on her arm, then realized that David was standing, as well-and looking alarmed in a way that made her feel even more inadequate.

Boy, would her friends be stunned to discover that under the take-charge, always-in-control facade, Dr. Fixit and all-around community activist, Spring Darling, MD, was really a woman afraid that she had missed her opportunities at happiness, at finding love and a family of her own. She was, after all, thirty-five years old, and Cedar Springs, North Carolina, was not the East Coast's hotbed of romantic possibilities for older single women.

Maybe it was being around young mothers and their children all day that made her feel old, that made Spring wonder why it seemed so easy for others to find their forever mates. All she'd ever attracted were men like Keith Henson who were more interested in her trust fund and wealth than in what she offered as an individual.

She cast stricken eyes up at David. "I... You didn't," she finally managed to stammer even as she felt tears gathering. Tears that she could not-would not-shed here. "I do need to go, though." She glanced at her watch as if to emphasize the point. "Thank you for the latte."

Spring walked quickly toward the door, glad that they'd walked to the coffee shop and that she wouldn't need to be in the confined s.p.a.ce of a car with him for even a few minutes.

It was close to one in the afternoon now and even though she was fleeing the scene like a criminal caught in the act but still certain of escape, she realized that she and David Camden had sat talking for close to an hour.

Without turning back to see if he was watching her hasty departure, Spring almost ran across the pathway and to the hospital lot where she'd parked her dependable Volvo car.

She fumbled with the key fob and eventually scrambled in and sat behind the wheel, trying to steady her emotions and her rapidly beating heart.

Too close.

He'd gotten too close to the truth she didn't want to acknowledge to herself, let alone reveal to someone else.

Almost hyperventilating, the doctor thought she might be having a panic attack. Instead of consulting a fellow medical pract.i.tioner, she did what any normal person would do: she called her best friend.

Despite having a.s.sured his mother that he would get some rest, prepare for his meetings and not worry about Jeremy, David was at the hospital for his son's release the next morning. Knowing that Jeremy was going to be all right afforded him the opportunity to focus on his first meeting, which was just a prelude to the one where he knew the opposition would be lying in wait.

After seeing Jeremy and his mother comfortably ensconced at the hotel, he checked his notes one final time.

"Don't worry about us, dear," his mother said. "You go make a good impression on those people."

He suspected that the eyedrops he'd used to mask the lack of sleep did little for the bags he sported under his eyes. There was little he could do about that now, though, as he approached the Cedar Springs city hall building for his first meeting of the day, this one with the city's police and fire chiefs, Zachary Llewelyn and Cameron Jackson, respectively. He was glad they had requested late morning instead of first thing. The chiefs had other appointments at eight and at nine, so eleven o'clock was deemed ideal and ended up being perfect for David.

David checked in at the reception desk and accepted a visitor badge that he clipped to his suit jacket's lapel. The media reports he'd read suggested this meeting with the public-safety chiefs would be easy compared with the midafternoon planning commission meeting. Although held in the middle of the afternoon on a workday, that meeting would be packed, according to an article in the Cedar Springs Gazette.

David presented himself at the office where he'd been directed and introduced himself to the clerk there.

"Oh, h.e.l.lo, Mr. Camden. I'm Gloria Reynolds-I spoke with you earlier. It's nice to put a face to the voice and emails," she said. "Chief Llewelyn is here and Chief Jackson just arrived. Right this way."

She showed him into a small conference room that had a table, four chairs and a slim credenza holding a carafe. "The coffee is hot, and the crullers are fresh from Sweetings," she told him. Then, raising her voice so it carried across the room to the credenza where the refreshments were set up, she added, "You'd better hurry, though, before a certain police chief, who shall remain unnamed, gobbles them all up."

"I do resemble that description, Gloria," rumbled a big man, who'd turned at her voice. "Jackson's getting married soon, so he has to watch his svelte figure. That leaves more for me."

Shaking her head, the clerk walked to the door. "Just let me know if you need anything," she said before pulling it closed.

David immediately felt at ease with these two men. The police chief had a good twenty years and thirty pounds on him, but he had the look of ex-military and kept himself in shape. This was no stereotypical big-bellied Southern cop. It was the fire chief, however, who was the surprise. David pegged the man for about his age or a bit younger, which would put him in his early thirties and therefore fairly young to be a chief of anything.

"Thanks for meeting with me," David said as introductions were made and handshakes went around. When all three were at the table with coffees prepared, the police chief started dunking a cruller in his.

"If you've been reading that weekly rag they call a newspaper here, it's a wonder you even showed up, Camden," Llewelyn said.

And with that comment, David knew that he had at least one ally, if not a friend in the city's administrative ranks.

"Zach," Cameron Jackson said, "we're not here to talk politics."

The warning in the fire chief's voice told David that if he thought he had an ally in the police chief, the same couldn't necessarily be said for fire chief Jackson. But the big man just rolled his eyes.

"If you haven't figured it out yet," Llewelyn said, "Chief Cam here is the good chief, and I'm the bad one."

"Ignore him," Cameron Jackson said. "He's still smarting because my firefighters beat his cops at softball last weekend."

"He had a ringer on his team," the police chief said, as if David were a judge and jury and the two chiefs lawyers arguing their cases.

"Autumn Darling is on the firefighters' auxiliary."

"Humph," the police chief grunted. "An auxiliary formed a week before the game." He pointed his cruller at David to make his point. "His soon-to-be sister-in-law is a coach. She excels at baseball, basketball, tennis, field hockey and rugby, to name just a few. And if that's not bad enough, she owns a torture center she calls a gym. That sound like a ringer to you?"

While the police and fire chief chuckled and bantered good-naturedly, David sat reeling over something the police chief had said.

Darling. Again. Another one?

Even if Darling were a common last name in Cedar Springs, there could be no doubt that Autumn Darling was Dr. Spring Darling's sister-one of The Seasons of Love. The probability of Cedar Springs or any other city having two residents with that particular first and last name were about negative three hundred to one.

What he needed to know, and right this minute, was which Darling was the one opposed to the project he was hoping to bring to fruition in the city.

"Darling?" he said. "I've seen that name in some of the media reports."

Chief Zachary Llewelyn chuckled. "That would be Lovie Darling, also known as Cedar Springs' force to be reckoned with. But she thinks the sun rises and sets on Chief Cam there," he said.

David was pretty sure he already knew what these men were about to confirm, but he asked the question that was expected of him. "Why is that?"

The police chief grinned as he finished off the cruller, then cupped his hands around his coffee mug, which had CSPD emblazoned on it. "He's marrying one of Lovie's girls."

"Zach, I really don't think Mr. Camden came all the way over here from Charlotte to talk about my marital status. You have some numbers you wanted to share with us, right, Mr. Camden?"

The police chief gave David a conspiratorial wink, then lifted from the empty seat a large munic.i.p.al binder that indicated he was ready to focus on business now.

"Please, call me David," he said, even as he tried to reconcile how all the familial connections might play out with regard to a mixed-use development in the city.

He'd done his research and knew that Cedar Springs was more small city than small town. While it was nowhere near the size of metropolitan Charlotte, he hadn't antic.i.p.ated working in an environment where everyone-least of all the people he would be working with-were related. Lovie Darling was the vocal opposition in the local newspaper. The city's fire chief was about to marry into the Darling family. And to put yet another plump and juicy cherry on top of his quickly melting professional sundae, Dr. Spring Darling, a woman who under other circ.u.mstances he would be mighty interested in getting to know, had saved Jeremy's life.

He was fighting an uphill battle, and he knew it. If there hadn't been a lot of people depending on him, he would have just counted the entire effort a loss. Maybe Jeremy's illness had been a sign from on high that this project was not meant to be.

But that test had been met, and he knew that he and his team, the people back at Carolina Land a.s.sociates, were depending on him to close the deal and keep the company operating. He couldn't let his attraction to Spring Darling and her family's opposition to his work deter him.

"From what we understand from Mayor Howell," Cameron Jackson said, "you want to get an idea of what additional emergency services would be needed given a number of different development scenarios."

Forcing himself to get his mind off the pretty doctor with the complicated family ties and on the meeting, David nodded as he pulled from his own briefcase a large three-ring binder and an electronic tablet.

"I'm here to site three locations. I received from the city manager's office-"

"More likely from the mayor's office," the police chief interjected. "She's the one pushing this thing."

David tapped on the tablet and three dialog boxes popped up, images from the deck of slides he planned to present during the planning commission meeting. "Well, I got from the city a list of six locations. My staff has done some groundwork, and we've narrowed it to three. I'm here to follow up on the primary one they recommended, which," he added, "also happens to coincide with the mayor's preferred site."

"Lovie Darling's land," Zachary Llewelyn said.

"Actually," Cameron inserted, "the land in question belongs in trust to the sisters, equal shares and acres for each."

"Is acquiring the land going to pose a problem?" David asked.

The two chiefs glanced at each other. Cameron Jackson sighed.

"Put it like this, David," Llewelyn said. "Given what happened at last month's city council meeting, I think I'll loan you a Kevlar vest to wear to the planning commission meeting this afternoon."

Spring had arranged her schedule so she could attend the city's planning commission meeting. Members of the Cedar Springs Historical Society had learned the hard way about the work and scope of the planning commission. It was here, not at city council, where things began to happen. Zoning changes were approved here. Permits were reviewed and either accepted or rejected. New businesses and enterprises that wanted to open, expand or relocate in the city started the process here. More times than not, by the time a project came before the city council, it was all but a done deal. Only the aesthetics remained to be hashed out before the council, and it was too late for substantive changes or for anyone with an opposing voice to be heard.

So the historical society, represented by Spring, her mother, Lovie Darling, and other members were there to monitor the proceedings.

Spring had the number of the historical society's volunteer attorney on speed dial. Given the way Mayor Howell had slipped a previous development project by the voters and the historical society, they were ready with a motion for an injunction on anything the mayor may have convinced a majority of the planning commissioners to do.

She hoped it wouldn't come to that. She was a person of peace, a woman who'd sworn an oath to do no harm.

"Let's sit in the middle," Lovie suggested. "I want to be able to hear and see everything."

"Lead the way," Spring said, allowing her mother to pa.s.s.

Three of the five planning commission members were already seated at the two long tables in the front of the multipurpose room. Unlike the Cedar Springs City Council, the planning commission didn't have chambers for its meetings, and, by mayoral decree, commission and committee gatherings weren't permitted in city council chambers even though the s.p.a.ce went unused during the day. The commission, these men and women who worked behind the scenes and had their actions mostly rubber-stamped by the council, were instead relegated to a multipurpose room at city hall.

Several rows of blue-cushioned chairs were arranged in lecture hall fashion for the public and interested parties. During the holiday season, the room was festooned with greenery and cedar trees of all shapes and sizes, decorated by civic groups for the annual Christmas tree challenge modeled after one in Durham, done Cedar Springsstyle.