“Well, I’m certainly not volunteering to help him,” Genevieve added with her nose in the air. “You’ve done your fair share of damage to this town, Camden, and I’m not willing to lend my expertise so you can take down the Historical Society. We’re all that keeps Alba in business.”

A murmur of agreement went through the room.

Crap. I liked my uncomplicated little life. I liked designing logos and such for the Historical Society but not getting pulled in any deeper than I had time for. I liked my boundaries, and I had a feeling I was about to break them all for the boy I’d sworn I’d never give anything else to.

Except that reckless boy was now a man who appeared to be doing his best to prove that he’d changed to a town that didn’t want to let him.

“I think that settles it,” Dad said. “Doesn’t it, Foreman?”

Walter’s eyes were heavy as he looked at Cam. “I’m sorry, son, but unless you have a society-approved restoration specialist up your sleeve, I’m bound by the bylaws, even if certain members are just acting out of spite.”

Dad smirked.

It was cruel and ugly and sparked something within me too loud to ignore.

I found my feet, my notepad falling to the floor with a thud as indignation flooded my cheeks with heat.

“I’ll do it,” I blurted.

The noise level only increased, so I climbed up on my chair, put two fingers between my lips, and let loose a shrill whistle.

Silence followed, with a whole lot of people staring right at me.

“I said, I’ll do it!” Pretty sure everyone down to Buena Vista heard that one.

“Willow Bradley, you get down off that chair!” Dad bellowed.

I did, out of sheer habit. Then I sucked in a deep breath and headed for the aisle, walking down the ominous path to where Cam waited, watching me with a focus so intense, I nearly tripped.

“What are you doing?” he whispered once I reached him.

“You took a bullet for me, so I’m taking one for you. Now move over and let me.” I didn’t bother to mask my determination as I stared up at him. Who cared what the town thought or how angry my dad was going to be?

Just when I thought Cam wasn’t going to relent, he stepped to the side and then stood by mine as I walked up to the podium. My fingers shook as I lowered the microphone.

“I’ll be his restoration expert.” My voice was a lot steadier than my nerves, thank God. They already saw me as a child; the last thing I needed was to act like one, too.