James looked past Oscar’s scowl to his younger son, Ian. Then he stood.

“Jennifer Halverson, you make money on one thing. Don’t look at me like that—you know it’s true. Can you imagine how much more money you’ll make for your kids when we have another thirty thousand people come through in the summer?”

She openly glared at Cam but stood.

Funny how moral judgment went out the window when personal finances got involved.

One by one, I called out the remaining five voting members until all seventeen of them stood with Camden as the eighteenth.

“If you’d like to move the council to a verbal poll, please lift your hand and say ‘aye,’” I called out.

They unanimously did.

Cam lowered me to the ground, using it as an excuse to whisper “Thank you” in my hair.

“I just got you here. You have to poll them. You’re the one who called for it.”

“Great,” he muttered.

“They can’t answer the poll until you finish calling their name. First and last,” I told him.

“How do you even know that?” He looked at me with a combination of awe and confusion.

“Dad,” I explained with a shrug. He’d made a game of learning council rules and quizzed us at the dinner table as kids, certain that one of his daughters would take his place as a county judge.

“So call their name really slowly?” Cam asked as Walter urged the crowd to quiet.

“Just keep talking until they’re convinced,” I suggested. “Go for the throat, because they sure went for yours.”

“You want me to change their minds.”

“You don’t have to do much,” I promised. “They’re facing a room of angry neighbors, and you only need two to flip. Just remember, founders can outvote them all.”

Cam nodded.

“You ready?” Walter asked.

“I am.”

“Begin.”

“Genevieve, I can’t imagine that you would deny all our townspeople the chance at increasing their income. Especially seeing that their income goes back into your jewelry store the rest of the year. My own father bought my mother’s engagement ring at Dawson’s. You definitely aren’t one of those nays, are you, Genevieve Dawson?”

She was redder than her cranberry sweater when he finished. He’d sure chosen to start with a dragon.

“Of course not. I say aye,” she finished.

One down.

“Walter Robinson?”

“Aye,” Walter voted with a grin.

We only needed three more.

“Julie Hall?”

“Aye,” she replied and winked at her husband.

Down to two.

“Mary Murphy?” Cam guessed.

“Aye.” She nodded.

He was only going for the ayes, and he needed to flip one more vote.

His eyes landed on Dad, and I stiffened. “Noah, I could come back to Alba as a millionaire with a Nobel Prize and you’d still shut me down, right? How did you vote, Noah Bradley?”

“Nay.” Dad leaned back in his chair.