Xander remained silent, but that was no surprise. Calm and collected against Cam’s rage had always been his MO.

“This looks like a solid plan,” Walt finished. “The thought that we could get the mine open to tours as early as August is a huge motivator, too. Shall we vote?”

There was a murmur on the dais, and Walter called the nine-member council to vote.

I held my breath as Mary Murphy counted the ballots.

“Three for aye,” she said, her shoulders sagging. “Six for nay.”

There was an audible gasp through the hall. Hating Cam was one thing; denying the town much-needed income out of spite was another.

Cam tensed, his grip turning white on the podium.

“Seriously?” Walter questioned, his gaze swinging left and right down the council.

“Vote’s been cast,” Genevieve said with a fake frown. “It’s hard to believe there were six of you who couldn’t look past Cam’s current legal matters.”

Six of you?

Three ayes. That had to be Walt; Gid’s wife, Julie; and probably Mary, given her reaction. Or maybe not. No one would go public with their grudge.

Unless we made them.

I tugged on Cam’s elbow, and he leaned down.

“Tell Walt that you move to poll the council.”

“Why?”

“They secretly voted against you because of the lawsuit. They won’t publicly go against the mine. It’s literally the reason Alba exists in the first place. Do it,” I ordered.

He shot me a look of disbelief but stood tall. “Foreman?”

“Cam?” Walt replied, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“I move to poll the council.”

Walt’s eyebrows rose, but he smiled. “What a good idea.”

“He can’t move to poll the council. He has to have a majority of the eighteen other voting members,” Dad interjected, looking straight at Cam when he said it.

“You neglected to mention that,” Cam whispered, barely moving his mouth.

“Whoops. Okay. Just go with it.” I turned around and eyed what I could see of the hall.

“Go with what?” he asked.

“Could you move to the left there, Dorothy? Thanks.” I climbed up on the folding chair.

“Sweet Lord,” Dorothy muttered.

I wobbled when the chair did, but Cam grabbed my waist. Probably not the best imagery, but we were already condemned, so I might as well get the perks. “If you’re a voting member, could you stand?”

About ten people did.

“Come on. Stand up. Don’t you want to hear which of them is willing to let a personal vendetta against Camden Daniels deny this town the chance to raise our income by fifty percent? You saw the projections. James Hudgens, you have two sons who live in Alba, but you can only leave the historical firehouse to one of them. Don’t you want to see if the other can make a living in the season running the tours or shuttling tourists?”