noticed that Karin hadn't smiled at her husband's humor but had kept her eyes continuously on her work.
A tawny-haired young woman came up slowly and carefully to the table. She wore cream-colored stretch pants with a matching cream-colored cable knit sweater, and high-heeled, rust-colored suede boots. The effect with her flowing hair was stunning, which her perfect figure didn't hurt. She spoke to Karin in a southern accent, which surprised Maggie, who mentally tried to place it. Somewhere south of Maryland, was all she could determine.
"Karin, I'm just parched. Could I please have a glass of punch?" She seemed to be having trouble with her balance and reached a beautifully manicured hand out to the table to steady herself.
"Sure Leslie." Karin introduced Leslie Warwick to Dyna and Maggie as she poured out the cold punch for her. Maggie realized that Elizabeth had suddenly disappeared.
"You picked quite a night to come meet the townspeople," Leslie said to Maggie. "I'd stay near the door to duck out fast if things start flyin'." She laughed, and walked unsteadily towards a chair in the front row. Maggie didn't think her heels were high enough to be the cause of her wobbling.
"Leslie's Jack Warwick's wife, of course," Karin explained after she had left. "Poor thing," she added, looking thoughtfully over Maggie's shoulder. "Excuse me, I'd better get some more ice for the punch."
Maggie followed Dyna over to two chairs near the center and sat down. There was some scuffling as others found seats, and just before the meeting was called to order Maggie noticed that Regina White and the picketers had quietly come in and seated themselves as a group in the back.
"That's the mayor, Tom Larson, ” Dyna whispered as a white-haired man in a grey cardigan sweater stepped up to the podium.
"Everyone find a seat?" he asked, looking around the room with a smile. He waited as the last of the talking quieted down. "Well, we have a pretty good turn-out tonight. Since I'm sure you didn't show up to hear me talk about the town hall's new snow-blower, we'll get right down to the matters at hand. All of you probab ly know who Mr. Jack Warwick is." H e indicated the navy-blue suited man seated at the front table. "Why don't we just let him say what he's got to say. Mr. Warwick?"
There was a smattering of applause, and Jack Warwick stepped up to the podium, nodding and smiling to the mayor and to the gathered townspeople. He was a man, Maggie judged, of about fifty, but a young, vibrant fifty. Average height with broad shoulders, Jack Warwick emanated an energy and magnetism that kept everyone's eyes glued to him, waiting for his first words. He leaned towards them, his ruggedly handsome face smiling under black and white speckled hair, and said, "Good people, I propose to save Cedar Hill."
"You propose to destroy it," a female voice came from the back, and Maggie wondered if it was Regina's. Jack Warwick ignored the comment.
"I know your problems. I know your hardships. There have been fewer and fewer jobs. Young people are having to move away from their families, from the town they grew up in and love, to find means to support themselves." He paused, and Maggie saw a few heads nodding. "This town has depended greatly on tourists, skiers drawn to Big Bear ski resort. But as we all know, their numbers have decreased in the last few years because of the competition from newer, bigger resorts. This has hurt your economy, badly, to the point of death. I can save that economy by buying Big Bear and turning it into a thriving mining operation."
Jack Warwick went on to enumerate the jobs that his company would bring to the area, to talk glowingly of the changes - all positive - that would come to Cedar Hill. He ended with a promise to personally donate, once the contracts were signed, as a symbol of his lasting interest in the town, a substantial amount of money for renovation of their school.
Maggie glanced around the room and realized that
A tawny-haired young woman came up slowly and carefully to the table. She wore cream-colored stretch pants with a matching cream-colored cable knit sweater, and high-heeled, rust-colored suede boots. The effect with her flowing hair was stunning, which her perfect figure didn't hurt. She spoke to Karin in a southern accent, which surprised Maggie, who mentally tried to place it. Somewhere south of Maryland, was all she could determine.
"Karin, I'm just parched. Could I please have a glass of punch?" She seemed to be having trouble with her balance and reached a beautifully manicured hand out to the table to steady herself.
"Sure Leslie." Karin introduced Leslie Warwick to Dyna and Maggie as she poured out the cold punch for her. Maggie realized that Elizabeth had suddenly disappeared.
"You picked quite a night to come meet the townspeople," Leslie said to Maggie. "I'd stay near the door to duck out fast if things start flyin'." She laughed, and walked unsteadily towards a chair in the front row. Maggie didn't think her heels were high enough to be the cause of her wobbling.
"Leslie's Jack Warwick's wife, of course," Karin explained after she had left. "Poor thing," she added, looking thoughtfully over Maggie's shoulder. "Excuse me, I'd better get some more ice for the punch."
Maggie followed Dyna over to two chairs near the center and sat down. There was some scuffling as others found seats, and just before the meeting was called to order Maggie noticed that Regina White and the picketers had quietly come in and seated themselves as a group in the back.
"That's the mayor, Tom Larson, ” Dyna whispered as a white-haired man in a grey cardigan sweater stepped up to the podium.
"Everyone find a seat?" he asked, looking around the room with a smile. He waited as the last of the talking quieted down. "Well, we have a pretty good turn-out tonight. Since I'm sure you didn't show up to hear me talk about the town hall's new snow-blower, we'll get right down to the matters at hand. All of you probab ly know who Mr. Jack Warwick is." H e indicated the navy-blue suited man seated at the front table. "Why don't we just let him say what he's got to say. Mr. Warwick?"
There was a smattering of applause, and Jack Warwick stepped up to the podium, nodding and smiling to the mayor and to the gathered townspeople. He was a man, Maggie judged, of about fifty, but a young, vibrant fifty. Average height with broad shoulders, Jack Warwick emanated an energy and magnetism that kept everyone's eyes glued to him, waiting for his first words. He leaned towards them, his ruggedly handsome face smiling under black and white speckled hair, and said, "Good people, I propose to save Cedar Hill."
"You propose to destroy it," a female voice came from the back, and Maggie wondered if it was Regina's. Jack Warwick ignored the comment.
"I know your problems. I know your hardships. There have been fewer and fewer jobs. Young people are having to move away from their families, from the town they grew up in and love, to find means to support themselves." He paused, and Maggie saw a few heads nodding. "This town has depended greatly on tourists, skiers drawn to Big Bear ski resort. But as we all know, their numbers have decreased in the last few years because of the competition from newer, bigger resorts. This has hurt your economy, badly, to the point of death. I can save that economy by buying Big Bear and turning it into a thriving mining operation."
Jack Warwick went on to enumerate the jobs that his company would bring to the area, to talk glowingly of the changes - all positive - that would come to Cedar Hill. He ended with a promise to personally donate, once the contracts were signed, as a symbol of his lasting interest in the town, a substantial amount of money for renovation of their school.
Maggie glanced around the room and realized that
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