Free Homespun Christmas by Aimée Thurlo

wistfully, thinking some dreams were better left unrealized.

CHAPTER SIX
    A S J OSHUA WALKED back to his truck, he felt her gaze on him. He didn’t look back, not wanting to send the wrong signals. Myka was a blend of opposites—gentle and tough, gutsy and sweet, beautiful and...off-limits.
    He climbed into the truck, put it in gear and drove off. Figuring the fresh air would help him think, he rolled the window down all the way.
    Today, as he’d looked into the faces of the women gathered at Myka’s, he’d remembered the optimism that had filled him and his partners when they opened their architectural firm. Back then, fresh out of college, it seemed as if destiny had handed them the golden ticket. Everything they’d ever dreamed of was suddenly within reach.
    Then life had cut them off at the knees. In the dark days after the economy started going downhill, they’d fought hard, combing the entire Bay Area looking for clients. Yet, in the end, nothing had helped. They’d been lucky to shut down debt free.
    He wondered about Myka’s future in Independence. As much as he wanted things to turn around for the community, the odds were stacked against them. The cost of failure could be steep, too. Grief and loss had taught Myka to keep her heart safely out of reach, but she cared about Independence and the people here. That made her vulnerable.
    He pushed the thought aside as he reached the stop sign where Constitution Road met up with Main Street. Main eventually became State Road 718, which led to a small ski resort and lodge up in the mountains thirty miles north. Josh had never been able to afford skiing, but he had good memories of going tubing with his high school friends. He and his dad had fished for trout at the lake countless times before that, too.
    He considered going for a drive in the mountains—that had always cheered him up—but then he remembered his financial situation. No sense in wasting a half tank of gas on nostalgia.
    Joshua turned left instead, heading toward downtown. His architect’s perspective drew him toward the old buildings along the street. Except for the Brooks Mansion, he’d been indifferent to the buildings while growing up. Now they each held his interest.
    Josh’s cell phone rang. He came to a stop beside the curb of Hilltop Avenue and brought the phone out of his jacket pocket. The caller was Independence Insurance—his father’s insurance company.
    “This is Joshua Nez,” he answered.
    “Joshua, it’s Mayor Phil Allen. I’m calling on behalf of the town. I’d like to hire you to do some architectural consulting, if you’re available.”
    Joshua had to smile. The one thing he needed right now was work—and this was his second job offer of the day. Two years ago, he would have had to check his schedule, but at the moment, his only plans were buying groceries.
    “Yes, I’m available, Mayor Allen, and I’m licensed to practice in New Mexico now. Tell me about the project you have in mind.”
    “Providing the town can afford your services, we’d like you to survey several of the abandoned or unoccupied buildings and give us some feedback regarding their potential.”
    “By potential, do you mean whether it’s cost-effective to renovate or restore them?” Joshua asked.
    “Exactly, and for the buildings where neither option is efficient, we’d like you to determine whether any building materials can be salvaged and reused or sold,” Allen said.
    “I see where you’re going with this, Mayor. If I recall, there’s a lot of quality wood and hardware in some of the older structures. Can you email me your proposal with a list of the properties, so I’ll know exactly what I’m getting into?”
    “Of course,” Mayor Allen replied. “You’re the only available architect in the area, so I hope we can agree on a price. If you accept the terms, just fax the contract to my insurance office number. Town hall doesn’t keep regular hours.”
    “I’m not going to let