Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

C orey Jacobs .

Just thinking his name had Josie's jaw clenching. Her heart pounding. Her stomach churning.

So running into him—literally, physically, unexpectedly—was almost more than she could take.

It was her own fault. She'd seen him in the yard of his mother's house earlier. Of course he'd be in the house when she got there. Where else would he be?

She supposed she'd assumed—hoped—he'd avoid the committee meeting his mother had volunteered to host just like she and Quinn always had when their mother hosted at their place.

At least that's what she used to do. Now it seemed avoidance was impossible since the committees realized she had skills they needed.

The old ladies of the tri-town area had finally entered the age of the internet and embraced social media. Don't ask them to use a QR code—Mrs. Jacobs had looked at her with horror when she'd suggested that—but at least as far as having an online presence they were on board. And they knew she was the one who could do that for them.

Lucky her.

Not that she minded. She lived to analyze target audiences and engagement rates. Yes, she was still a nerd…

"I think we need to do a direct mail campaign to all the residents, like we did for the two-hundredth anniversary," Sadie Simmons suggested to the small group of ladies assembled in the Jacobs' living room.

The frightening part was not that Sadie, at eighty-four, had been around for both the current two-hundred and fiftieth anniversary celebration but also for the two-hundredth, but rather that she was trying to use the same publicity methods.

Josie glanced around, waiting for someone—anyone—to raise an objection. An alternate suggestion. Anything at all.

No one did. It was up to her.

Drawing in a breath, she said, "Or we could spread the word electronically." After being met with blank stares she added, "Like email instead of paper mail."

"How would we do that?" Marie Jacobs, a saint of a woman even if she had birthed that devil's spawn, Corey, asked.

"You have an email list, right?" Josie asked.

The exchange of glances among the ladies answered that question.

So, no email list.

"We can put a form on the website easily enough to capture email addresses." Having been met with silence once again, Josie asked, "There is a website. Right?"

Sadie shook her head.

"Facebook page? Or a group?"

Marie raised her hand. "We opened a Facebook for the Sidney Historical Society once, but the woman who had the log in retired—and then died. So…"

Jeez. Josie nodded. "Okay. That's fine. We'll just start from square one. No problem at all."

She'd rather start from scratch anyway. Set things up properly, right from the start rather than fixing whatever mess they might have come up with on their own.

"I can set up a simple website, with an email sign-up. And a public Facebook Page and a Facebook Event for the celebration. We really only need a single webpage for the brief history of Sidney. Then all the details about the events happening for the celebration. Some pictures. Historical and modern…"

The design began to come to life in Josie's mind as she spoke.

"You can do all that?" Peggy, the church secretary who was younger than Sadie but still up there in years, asked.

Josie tipped her head. "Yes. Easy."

Good thing she'd just finished a major project and the next one wasn't due for a bit. This was turning out to be a bigger job than she'd anticipated.

Pen poised over her notebook, she asked, "What kind of things do you have planned for the celebration?"

"Well, it will all center around the founder's compass," Sadie said.

"The uh, compass?" Josie asked.

"Oh, she might not know," Marie said before turning to face Josie. "You were living away when the bequest was made."

"That's right," Sadie nodded. "It was right before the pandemic."

Like watching a tennis match, Josie watched the conversation volley back and forth between the women as she waited for some actual information to be delivered.

"So that television show with the antiques came to Binghamton. And the Foresters had been cleaning out the house after Martha's husband's passing?—"

"Rest his soul," one woman murmured.

"Amen," another responded.

Marie nodded. "Yes, lovely family. Such a loss. But when Martha's son and daughter-in-law were cleaning out the house for her?—"

"Martha is a bit of a packrat," Sadie interjected.

"—they found a bunch of old stuff in the attic and brought it to the experts from the show to be evaluated."

"I went too. Waited in a line for three hours for them to tell me my painting was worth less than I'd paid for it at the garage sale." Sadie scowled.

"So," Marie said a bit louder. "It turns out they had a compass that belonged to Reverend William Johnston, the founder of our very own town of Sidney, New York. Isn't that amazing?"

"Wow. How did they know it was his?" Josie asked.

"It was engraved with his name. And it fit the time period of the early 1770s," Marie supplied.

"That's when the reverend first explored the Susquehanna River Valley in a canoe with an Indian guide," Sadie supplied.

"Native American," Marie whispered the correction to the older woman.

Sadie either didn't hear or ignored her as she continued, "He then purchased the land and settled here with his family and others. They had to flee for a few years, of course, during the Revolutionary War and all that unrest but they came back in 1784."

"The expert said a similar compass was recently sold for six thousand dollars at auction but of course that one didn't belong to the founder of our town. Given what it means to us, the value of this object can't be overestimated. And can you believe it, the Foresters donated it to the historical society," Marie said with awe.

"The library in Mudville is keeping it for us. They have a secure, humidity-controlled private area for their rare book and papers collection. But we plan to display it publicly for the celebration," Sadie added.

Some actual excitement. Josie was grateful to discover there was good fodder to base her publicity on. Things were starting to look up. She scratched down a quick note on the pad of paper.

Priceless town founder's compass!!

"My daughter works for the local paper. She can write an article about the compass and the plans for the celebration, if you wanted," Peggy offered.

"Yes! Please. That would be amazing," Josie jumped to say.

Peggy smiled. "Good. I'm glad I could help."

"I bet the local radio station would mention it since it's a community event. I could call them," Marie suggested.

"And the Binghamton TV station has the community blotter segment. We can submit to that too," a woman Josie didn't know suggested.

Thank God. Some solid suggestions that would actually be helpful.

Hope bloomed brighter—in spite of her having to be under the same roof as Corey Jacobs.

"Definitely. Yes, to both." Josie nodded as the ladies came to life with suggestions and offers of help.

Sadie clapped her hands together once. "Well, that all sounds wonderful. I think we're off to a good start."

"We really are. Who wants more coffee? There's still plenty. Or I can make more tea," Marie said as she stood.

Apparently the business portion of the meeting had come to a close but Josie couldn't complain.

They really were off to a good start. This event might not be a flop after all.

Just one more thing needed to be accomplished before she lost the attention of the women in the room. She realized she didn't have a specific date pinned down.

"When were you thinking of having the event?" she asked.

"Saturday the twenty-seventh," Marie announced.

Josie's eyes widened. "Of this month?"

"Yes. The reverend actually first discovered Sidney in July," Peggy informed her.

"But we didn't want to have it too close to the fourth—people travel for that," Sadie continued.

"And your parents said they can be back from their road trip in time," Marie concluded.

A noise coming from the direction of the kitchen reenforced for her that there were more than the committee ladies present. Corey was definitely still there, in the house, in this town, and for the duration of his stay and hers and the length of this project, back in her life, even if peripherally.

Three weeks to plan the event of the century and her biggest distraction would be here for all of it.

At that realization the shadow of a dark cloud began to close in on what had been a spark of hope. She stifled the low groan of hate-fueled discontent that threatened to surface from her throat.

It might have been years ago, but that hurt, that betrayal, felt as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. Or this morning, when she'd come face-to-face with Corey again.

Nope. Pain was good. It would fuel her determination. Give her incentive to be the best she could be. And throw the best damn anniversary event this town had ever seen!

Corey peeked into the open doorway to ask his mother a question about the lawnmower or something—but Josie couldn't concentrate on his words over the pounding of her pulse just his proximity caused.

Besides, she had to concentrate to keep the tea from splashing out of her cup as her hand shook.

He still had power over her after all these years.

This was going to be a long three weeks.