Mountain Town: Warren (2024)

Mountain Town: Warren

By Ivory Harlow

I.

“What did I tell you, man? Ain’t that the easiest money you’ve ever made?” Virgil slammed his hands on the steering wheel victoriously. He’d just driven his Ford pickup carrying over 400 pounds of marijuana through the last Border Patrol checkpoint. Now, there was nothing but open road until he and his friend and partner in crime Warren Reid, reached the drop house in Presidio County, Texas.

Virgil was 20 years old. He had accomplished three successful drug runs across the border before convincing Warren to partner with him. Virgil worked as an oil change technician in Mountain Town. He didn’t start running drugs until Savannah, Warren’s sister, told him she was pregnant with their second child. He could hardly afford diapers for the kid they already had. Another on the way pushed him to find a fast way to bring in more money. A buddy of his was running drugs out of Chihuahua for the Siña Cartel. Virgil had taken cash under the table to modify vehicles to transport drugs. His friend made more with a single drug run Virgil made in a week. He introduced Virgil to the Jefe. After he got a few runs under his belt, he convinced his friend Warren, 18, to be his wingman for a 70-30 split.

Warren’s $500 cut of the deal was a game changer. He was saving every penny from his part-time job working for a local contractor, building decks, doing home remodels and the like. He and his girlfriend Ana would graduate from Mountain Town High in a few months. They dreamed about getting married and starting their grown-up life together post graduation. Though Ana’s folks liked Warren, they were not keen on the idea of them marrying so young, and before Warren could provide a nice life for her. He did not blame them.

So they had put their plans on hold. Ana was headed to junior college for paralegal studies in the fall. Warren was going to work full time for the contractor. Full-time pay would make a significant difference, but it still was not enough to provide a good life for his girl.

He originally turned Virgil down when he proposed a partnership. But then, a plan formed in Warren’s mind. A couple of trips across the border each month would be enough to not only pay the bills, but pay for Ana’s college. He could give them the life they dreamed of.

When they were out of earshot of the Border Patrol station, Virgil lit a cigarette and turned on Eminem’s newest hit, Without Me, to celebrate their victory. Warren hated poppy rap, but the occasion warranted boastful prowess.

Warren rolled the passenger window down to let in the cool, spring air. The cab filled with the sweet, vanilla scent of Agarita blossoms. It made him think of Ana. He told her he was ‘working’ tonight, but she likely thought he was working on a kitchen remodel, not a drug deal… Ana was a stickler for the truth, and he felt guilty for not being completely honest about where he was. It would be late when he got home, but he would call her before he went to sleep. She would be waiting.

Warren tapped his fingers on the passenger side door panel absentmindedly. He heard Virgil say, “sh*t.”

He glanced in the side mirror and saw a highway patrolman do a U-turn, turn on flashing red and blue lights, and race up behind Virgil’s Ford pickup. Virgil pulled onto the shoulder. He took a long drag on his cigarette before extinguishing it in the ashtray. Eminem warned, “And get ready, cause this sh*t's about to get heavy,” as he killed the music.

II.

Local law enforcement and Border Patrol officers extracted 440 pounds of weed from Virgil’s truck. 200 bundles were hidden beneath the truck’s bed floor and in the panels.

They isolated Warren and Virgil immediately and questioned them separately. Warren wasn’t allowed to contact anyone. Legally, he was an adult, but he was still in high school, barely 18, young and scared. He ignored his rights to remain silent, to have a lawyer present during questioning, and to stop the interview. Instead, he spilled everything he knew to the interrogators:

Yes, he knew the drugs were concealed in the vehicle.

Yes, he agreed to help his Virgil get marijuana across the border.

Yes, he agreed to a 70/30 split of the payment, with Virgil getting the majority for arranging the exchange and using his truck to transport the weed.

No, the gun was not his, but he agreed to carry it and serve as a lookout.

No, he did not communicate with the cartel when they collected the drugs- He didn’t speak Spanish.

Warren was fingerprinted, photographed, and booked. An officer led him through double security doors and down a line of holding cells. He peered into the intruder resistant laminated glass panels, looking for Virgil, but didn’t see him. The officer opened the last cell in the row and led Warren inside.

“You’ll stay here until the court releases you,” the officer informed him. Ironically, the West Texas jail he was being held in was less than an hour away from Warren’s parent’s house in Mountain Town. He and his dad drove past it on the way to the public hunting land they dove and deer hunted on in season. He’d imagined the people held here to be immoral and vicious. Now he and his buddy were part of the ranks. Warren sat on the cot, leaned his head against the cell wall, and ran his hand over his short brown hair and down his smooth baby face.

Warren knew he was not going home. The court would not release someone facing a first degree felony on bond. He might have an opportunity to apologize to his parents before they locked him up in and threw away the key, but he wouldn’t be able to tell Ana how sorry he was, or that he loved her, before they transported him to a Federal Correctional Facility out of her sight and mind.

III. Five years later

Warren walked out of the La Tuna Prison in El Paso County, Texas. Five years in a Federal Correctional Institution had transformed his teenage boy body into that of a tall, broad-shouldered man. The clothes he wore into prison didn’t fit when they gave them back. The out processing officer offered a pair of Dickies pants and plain gray t-shirt that had been donated. Anything was better than prison orange scrubs.

“$100 gate money.” The officer handed him an envelope of cash. “Courtesy El Paso County Government. They hope you’ll use it to catch a ride out of town, but looks like you could use a shave and a haircut more,” he poked fun at Warren’s shoulder-length brown hair and full beard.

“How about you give me a rubber band as a parting gift?” Warren pointed to a few rubber bands left carelessly on the officer’s desk.

“It’s the least I can do,” the officer handed Warren all three.

Warren took them and pulled his hair back into a ponytail. It was long enough to loop back around. He typically wore it down to hide his face and his copper brown eyes. Fellow prisoners did not care, but he was keenly aware his rough-around-the-edges look might intimidate people outside of prison walls.

“I can arrange free transportation to Union Depot in El Paso if you’d like. You can catch a bus or train anywhere from there.”

Warren had spent the last five years fantasizing where he would go after he’d served his time. Not back to Mountain Town, for sure. He was disgusted by the bad choice he had made, how it made him the topic of town gossip, and shamed his family. Before him, the Reids had a reputation of being good, hard-working people. He intended to remedy that reputation before he contacted his family or stepped foot back in his hometown.

An unmarked van transported Warren to the Depot. The historic brick building looked like a church, steeple and all. It was at least three stories and expanded across an entire city block.

Warren slid open the door, thanked the driver, and grabbed the backpack carrying the entirety of his possession plus the $100 dollars he was given to start a new life somewhere, anywhere, else.

“Good luck sir,” the driver touched his cap and gave a salute before he drove away.

Warren took a deep breath, then roused the courage to go forward into the depot. He glanced around nervously at the crowd inside, expecting all eyes to be on him. Warren navigated through the crowd, careful to not make eye contact or bump anyone with his backpack. He was relieved to see people scurrying to and from buses and trains were too wrapped up in themselves to notice him.

Warren selected an Amtrak route map and Greyhound Bus schedule from a rack of brochures, then sat on an empty bench in the corridor. Ironically, the only place he ever traveled was Mexico, and that didn’t turn out to be a great trip. Now he felt overwhelmed by his options: St. Louis, Little Rock, Birmingham. He tried to picture himself in California or South Carolina, but could not. Warren could only see himself here, in Texas. He decided that if he was going to stay in the state, he would go clear to the other side. Warren approached the counter and bought a one-way ticket to Texarkana for $62.

IV.

Warren arrived in Texarkana, Texas in 2009. The United States was in the Great Recession, the worst economic conditions since the Great Depression. The unemployment rate in Texas was the highest it had been since 1986, the year Warren was born.

It was hard enough to get a job when jobs were plentiful, but during the downturn, it was impossible, especially with a felony on his record. Because he had admitted to his crime, Warren was tried and convicted immediately. He never finished the last three months of high school. He did not have a diploma. Warren always thought he would continue his education post-prison, but schools did not admit convicted felons and his crime rendered him ineligible for a federal student loan.

Warren’s criminal history barred him from professional careers such as those in the medical, legal, and financial fields, as well as those that require a professional license like real estate or barbering.

Landlords would not rent to a convicted felon, and banks would not approve him for a mortgage, so Warren resigned himself to living on the streets of Texarkana and working odd jobs to meet his basic needs. The way Warren saw it, if no one would help him, he’d have to help himself. He had a few things going for him. Warren was young and strong, clean and sober. He had knowledge and experience in basic carpentry, plumbing, and electrical work. Warren was a hard worker. He liked how physical labor made his body feel strong and his mind clear. Warren recalled how proud he felt when a client admired his handiwork, or his dad or boss complimented his skills. It occurred to him that while he had tried to start a new life by running away from his past, maybe his past was actually the way forward?

V.

An illegal immigrant Warren met on the streets clued him into the underground labor market that was the Home Depot parking lot. Contractors collected day workers there, transported them to and from the job site, and paid cash for a day’s work. No questions asked.

Warren was out there 7 days a week. He took every job he could get, brushing up his building and remodeling skills, and learning everything he could about the business from the men that hired him. Warren worked hard and longer than the others. He took fewer breaks and never complained. He quickly earned a reputation for being reliable and not cutting corners.

He made enough to pay for a week-to-week motel room for him to sleep and shower at night, and food to stock his mini fridge. He bought a cell phone, and a used truck to haul materials. Slowly, a vision of a new life formed in his mind while he unloaded drywall and framed windows. The state of Texas did not require a professional license to start a general contracting business. Plus, there were no educational requirements to be an entrepreneur.

He began a subcontracting business, employing many of the down-and-out men he had met while he was pulling himself up by the bootstraps. Reid Contracting experienced immediate success. General contractors were calling him with more opportunities than Reid could handle, even working 7 days a week. When Warren explained the predicament, they were unrelenting and offered him more money to choose their jobs over others. He made sure he earned it, doing the job to the highest quality in record time.

VI.

Warren started Reid Contracting at the right time. Three years later, in 2012, the economy had rebounded. His business had grown from a small subcontractor to one of Texas's 20 largest commercial contractors. Reid Contracting had a broad commercial project portfolio in the tri-state area, across the state of Texas, as well as in Arkansas, and Louisiana.

He was unabashed about offering opportunities to people who needed second chances. "Being gainfully employed with a livable wage allowed me to look forward and plan for bigger and better things in my life,” Warren told a reporter as they toured Reid Headquarters in Texarkana.

Warren made sure people knew he was no sage, and his motivations for hiring people who needed help were not purely good for his heart. It also benefited his business. People who really needed and wanted a job were loyal, reliable, and eager to learn. They did not act entitled. Because other job options were hard to find, they were dedicated to staying with the company. That meant doing a good job, not just doing the minimum to get by.

Warren paid them well and offered benefits. He recalled how he struggled to get an education with a felony conviction and designed internal education and advancement opportunities that they could do during work hours, for free. As a result, Reid turnover was 1.7% compared to the industry average of 5.7%.

Reid Contracting hit a major milestone on the company’s tenth birthday, winning a contract bid for a 170 million dollars to build a new corrections facility in West Texas. Though Warren had resigned himself to the CEO role at Reid, and had several capable foremen that could be his boots on the ground, he wanted to oversee this job himself for three reasons. First, it was Reid’s largest project to date in both scale and budget. Second, the new facility would replace the jail Warren was temporarily held in as he awaited sentencing 15 years earlier. Going from captive to creator felt like a full circle moment. Last, the job site was a short drive from Mountain Town, and it was time for him to go home and make peace with his past.

VII.

“I’m on the road now. Should get to Mountain Town late this evening,” Warren calmly spoke into his cell phone, as if coming home for the first time in 15 years was no big deal.

“Way to drop a bomb,” his sister Savannah commented. “Did you tell mom you’re moving home?”

“I am not moving home. The timeline on this project is 18 months. I told her and dad I’ll be there for work for 18 months,” Warren corrected her.

“That’s significant Warren. You’ve haven’t been back in 15 years. And now you’ll just be- back.”

“You sound bothered…”

“No! I’m thrilled. I’m sure mom and dad are too,” his sister reassured him, “I’m just surprised. In a good way!” her tone lightened.

“You’ll stay with us, right?”

Virgil had done 8 years in prison, was released long enough to meet his son, Savannah’s second child, before he went back to jail for assault. Savannah and the kids moved in with their parents to make ends meet. When Warren achieved a level of financial success that allowed him to do so, he paid off his parent’s house and bought Savannah her own place. She lived two blocks away from their parents so the grandkids could easily ride their bikes in between.

She didn’t wait for Warren to answer. “I’ll make up the guest room for you. Mom will let you off tonight, but we’ll have to have breakfast with them tomorrow or she’ll be bitter.”

“I know.”

Warren didn’t call home a year when he got out of prison. His mother still raked him about it. Not that he didn’t want to. He thought about calling when he first got a cell phone. He knew his family would want to hear from him, be reassured he was okay. But Warren wanted to wait until he had something good to say about his life.

A year later he had started his company. Reid Contracting supported 18 employees and their families. He had assets: a commercial building, fleet of work trucks, heavy equipment… He called home for the first time on Christmas Eve and invited his family to Texarkana to ring in the new year. The reunion was sweet. His parents, Savannah, and his niece and nephew came to Texarkana a few times a year thereafter, but he never went home to Mountain Town.

“You can’t avoid Mountain Town forever,” Savannah had told him. “And really, why bother? We, mom and dad and me, are proud of you. We are over your past. Does the opinions of anyone else in Mountain Town really matter?”

Warren wanted to say “No”, but it was not the truth. Mostly, he didn’t care what the townies said or thought about him anymore. He was proud of his business, the multi-million dollar project Reid had won near his hometown. Warren felt good about being able to take care of his family. Overall, he liked the man he saw in the mirror. He had nothing left to prove, except to Ana.

Warren never saw Ana after he was taken into custody. He assumed she graduated high school and went to junior college like she planned. They planned to live in Mountain Town when Ana finished her studies, but he didn’t know if she stuck around without him.

Even though social media was at peak popularity when he got out of prison, Warren never opened social accounts. He didn’t want to connect with former inmates' lives. 67% of offenders return to the system within three years- Virgil is the perfect example. It was better for him to sever all ties.

Unfortunately, staying off social media also meant he didn’t have easy access to people he wanted to reconnect with, like Ana. He had broken down and Googled her a couple times, but found nothing. He assumed it was because she was married with a new last name, which made his heart ache. Warren didn’t ‌think Ana would wait for him, but he fantasized she did. The fantasy got him through some tough times: sitting on the curb at Home Depot hoping to get a day's work, sleeping under an overpass near Lee Park, eating peanut butter sandwiches for three meals a day because they were inexpensive and filling. He imagined Ana back in Mountain Town, waiting, and pledged he’d go back and claim her when he’d made something of himself. Now he had, but as he drove through Rose Pass into Mountain Town, he still felt like a failure. Perhaps he always would?

Warren stroked his beard, deep in thought, as he watched the sun sink below the Mountain horizon. It’s for the best, he thought. Ana deserves better.

VIII.

Warren had breakfast with his parents, sister and the kids the next morning, then went to the job site. It felt good to wear work boots and a hard hat instead of a suit. He met with the Texas Department of Criminal Justice Director, county commissioners, Mountain Town Mayor, and local law enforcement. Reid’s project managers had already established site access and security and where to store materials. Utilities were already marked, and temporary buildings, which would serve as offices, bathrooms and a breakroom were onsite. Heavy equipment was greased up and ready to go as soon as he posted copies of the permits.

This morning’s meeting was more of a show of strength and confidence. They were smart to award Reid the contract. Warren gave the head honchos a tour of the site.

“The state of Texas operates the second largest prison system in the US, second only to California,” the TDCJ Director boasted of how the new facility will double the number of beds.

“This project has been needed for a long time,” A commissioner signed with satisfaction.

“The construction of a new facility will ultimately save the state money by reducing the amount we spend on private prisons,” The Director patted the commissioner on the shoulder. “The cost of replacing and increasing the amount of beds currently needed at the state penitentiary was estimated at $160 million.”

He looked at Warren and added, “Your bid of $170 million was just what we needed to convince the powers that be building a new facility is a short-term expenditure that could lead to long-term solutions guaranteeing that our taxpayer dollars are used efficiently.

“So long as Reid Contracting sticks to the budget…” The commissioner warned.

Warren understood his concern. The reigning stat, in the realm of commercial contracting, is upwards of 90% of all projects go over budget, over schedule, or both. That was not the case with Reid.

“Our budgeting process is controlled and linear. Reid Contracting has experience and expertise to deliver on budget, on time.” Warren gave the commissioners a confident nod.

The mayor patted Warren on the back. “I knew you were the right man for the job. When we reviewed contractor bids, I told them, ‘Warren will be more invested in the outcome, and more committed to the community than other firms because he’s from here and his family still lives here.”

“I appreciate your vote, Mayor,” Warren said. He really appreciated the fact the mayor didn’t mention his past. Though the current mayor had only held office for two years, he was well versed in town gossip, and undoubtedly knew what kept Warren away all those years.

“We are ready and eager to get started,” Warren said. “I’m headed to the courthouse for copies of the permits, then my guys can start excavation this afternoon.”

“You’d best hurry to the courthouse if you don’t want to wait on your paperwork,” the mayor suggested, clapping Warren on the back. “They close for lunch at noon.”

IX.

Warren’s truck was too big for the compact spots around the courthouse, so he parked two blocks away and jogged to make it to the County Clerk's office before it closed for lunch. His steel toe work boots felt like they weighed 20 pounds as he bounded up the steps and pulled open the heavy brass doors. 11:52 a.m. Just in time.

Mountain Town may be small in terms of population, but the courthouse was grandiose. It was built of native limestone in the early 1900s. Texas was a poor, rural state at the time. County courthouses were the vision of what residents wanted their community to become.

The interior had pristine white and gray polished granite, dark wood and high ceilings.

Walking towards the clerk’s office, Warren became self-conscious of the West Texas dust coating his t-shirt and jeans. Though the setting demanded more professional attire, he was just there to pick up copies of the permits. His assistant in Texarkana called ahead to verify the packet was ready and waiting for him.

Warren reached the door with County Clerk etched in the glass at 11:58 a.m. He gripped the handle at the exact moment the clerk turned the lock.

He tapped on the glass. “I know you're closing for lunch,” Warren spoke loud through the thick glass. “I just need the packet of permits for Reid Contracting…they are holding it at the desk for me.” He pointed towards the reception desk, hoping the woman would not tell him to come back in an hour. He registered her annoyance when their eyes met, but her reproach faded as they filled with recognition.

“Warren?” her jaw dropped.

Warren had imagined reuniting with Ana thousands of times in hundreds of different scenarios, but never in the county clerk's office at the Mountain Town courthouse. He could not contain his smile.

Ana wore her cinnamon-colored hair long in high school. Now it was cropped just below her chin. The green eyes he spent his teenage years gazing into were bright and spirited as ever. She quickly unlatched the door and rushed him into a hug. He’d forgotten how short she was, barely rising to his shoulders.

After a moment of bliss, he pulled back, holding her at arm's length and scanning the current version of her against the one in his memory. “You look the same!” He said, omitting that she was rounder in all the right places. He wouldn’t think it was possible, but she looked better…

“It’s so good to see you! I just put it together! Reid Contracting. Warren Reid!”

“The plans for the new facility have been in the newspaper. It didn’t occur to me you were the man behind the magic!” She offered her approval.

“The name is common enough, and you wouldn’t expect me to build prisons for a living.” Warren addressed the elephant in the room.

“I suppose not.” Ana chuckled at his joke. “I mean…I think it’s great. I really do. It’s quite an achievement!”

“And you, an elected official,” Warren whistled, “impressive.”.

“Don’t be too impressed,” she leaned in as though she was sharing a secret. “My candidacy was uncontested.”

“Was your name on the ballot? Because I’m pretty sure if your name was on the ballot and you were elected, it’s called winning,” Warren said playfully.

“Do you have lunch plans?” Warren asked, remembering he’d interrupted her closing the office for the midday meal.

“If you call a cold tuna sandwich ‘plans’ I do.”

“Can I take you to lunch? You can tell me what you’ve been up to the last 15 years.”

“I bet your last 15 years are far more interesting, so we’ll have to take turns swapping life stories.”

“Let me grab my purse.”

“Is Carl’s Diner still a Mountain Town institution?” Warren asked as she retrieved her purse from behind the desk.

“Still serving greasy goodness and sugar coma inducing shakes,” Ana reassured him. “I can’t believe you haven't been there since you’ve been back.”

“To be fair, I got in late last night,” Warren held up his hands in surrender.

“It should have been your first stop.” She elbowed him in the ribs.

Ana locked the door behind them and they walked out of the courthouse and walked a few blocks off main to Carl’s.

It was mid-September, and though West Texas doesn’t have vibrant reds, oranges and yellow leaves, signs of season change were everywhere. White asters, purple ironweed and goldenrod wildflowers bloom. Cooler temperatures trigger and the prickly pear cactus fruit to ripen to deep magenta. “This is my favorite time of year,” Warren commented on the changes while they enjoyed the short walk.

“My favorite thing about fall is that kids are back in school. No more teenagers cruising Main Street, blasting base, and gangs of kids roaming free range on the streets,”. Ana sighed with appreciation.

Warren laughed. “I guess you and your husband don’t have kids?” He nodded at the large diamond ring on Ana’s finger.

“Fiance,” Ana corrected, “I’m getting married in December.”

“But to answer your question, if and when we have kids, I’m counting on them being less annoying than the majority…”

“How about you?” She eyed him curiously. He understood she was asking a much larger question: what kind of life did he live now?

“No kids, no wife…or finance. I haven't made time for that. Work keeps me busy.”

“Because you’re always on job sites?” Ana asked innocently.

He could see why she’d think that. But the job in Mountain Town was an anomaly. “I typically travel for work a couple days a month, but I’m a paper weight these days. I spend most of my time at Reid headquarters in Texarkana.”

“I hadn’t been home for 15 years. When we won the bid in West Texas, I took it as a sign it was time.”

“It’s the biggest project Reid has to date, my family is here and…” Warren hesitated for a moment. “It really feels like a full circle moment for me, from serving time in prison to building a prison.”

Ana nodded. “How long will you be in town?”

“The project has an 18 month timeline.” Just like with his mother, Warren opted to share the project timeline, not his commitment to stay in Mountain Town the entire time, but for a different reason. With his mom, he didn’t want to get her hopes up that he’d in Mountain Town for the foreseeable future. With Ana, he didn’t want to get his hopes up he’d be in Mountain Town long enough to rekindle the friendship aspect of their relationship. It was hard enough to walk beside her without reaching out and taking her hand in his, like they had not skipped a beat.

They took a back booth at Carl’s, ordered from Ruby who had been the waitress there when they were teens. She’d recently come back home to live and work as well.

They fell into easy conversation while they waiting for their food. Ana finished the paralegal studies program and got her bachelor's degree at the state college. She moved home after graduation. She took a job in public law, which is where she met her fiance, Jack. “Jack is the County Attorney,” she explained.

Warren asked questions about their wedding and plans to buy a house in town. The more she talked about her very full life, the less he had to talk about his, which seemed empty in comparison. It was after 1 p.m. when Warren checked his phone.

“I’ll walk you back. I should get the permits I came for,” He said. He stood and offered his hand to help her out of the booth. It was warm and soft. He tossed cash on the table to cover their bill.

They strolled back to the courthouse slowly to milk out the minutes.

“Was prison as scary?” After more than an hour, Ana finally built up the courage to ask.

“I was so afraid for you when you left. That first fall I was in college, some friends and I went to see a movie set in prison. I thought about you there and ran out sobbing. I thought about you all the time.”

Her admission made him ache. So did the past tense ‘thought’, which implied at some point she stopped.

“At first, yeah, prison was scary. I got used to it. Eventually, prison became…comfortable. When I got out, going to Walmart felt a lot more scary than being incarcerated.”

“Why?!” Ana looked shocked.

“Prison is predictable. The real world- not so much.” Warren explained. “In prison, all my basic needs were met. Social needs too.”

“Getting out felt like being thrown to the wind. I had nowhere to go, nothing to do. Didn’t know anyone. My record made it hard to get a job and housing. I couldn’t get an education. I had a lot of social anxiety.”

“I lived on the streets, ate at soup kitchens, and took odd jobs until I got on my feet. It was way harder and scarier than prison.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Ana said subdued. “Why didn’t you come home? Your mom and dad would have taken you in. The community would have helped you. Nobody would hold a mistake you made when you were a kid against you.”

“I had to do it for myself. I didn’t want to take handouts. I wasn’t about to feel sorry for myself, for something I did to myself.” Warren said. “I needed to fix my own mistake so I could get right with myself.”

“You’ve always been stubborn,” Ana shot him a knowing smile. “You were so determined not to wait until I finished school to get married- remember?”

Ana took out her keys as they approached her office door. A tall man in a navy suit rounded the corner at a fast pace.

He halted mid step when he saw them. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you,” Jack scolded. “I called your office and cell. I came down when you didn’t answer either.” He kept his eyes fixed on Ana, ignoring Warren completely.

“I’m sorry. I am running a few minutes late from lunch,” Ana stated, waving away his concern.

“Anyway, Jack, this is Warren Reid. We grew up together. He’s in town on business. I ran into him and we went to lunch.”

She turned to Warren. “Warren, this is Jack Tharp, the county attorney and my fiance. His office is on the second level,” she explained.

“Nice to meet you, Jack,” Warren extended his hand to Jack, who took and shook it with vigor.

“What kind of business?” Jack asked, scanning Warren from the long hair and full beard to his dusty t-shirt, jeans, and work boots.

“Construction. I came by the courthouse to pick up copies of the building permits. I didn’t know it was Ana’s office,” Warren tried to sound friendly. “She tells me the county courthouse is about to be a family business?” He hinted at their upcoming wedding.

“Yes. We’re both looking forward to the wedding in December.” Jack straightened and smoothed the front of his silk tie.

“Congratulations to you both,” he said, “I’ll just get those permits and get out of your hair Ana.”

“Right. The permits...” She said as if she suddenly remembered why they were there. She scurried into the office, leaving Jack and Warren alone for an awkward moment.

“Building permit for the new jail?” Jack asked.

“Yes, sir. That’s the project.”

“Here you are,” Ana returned with a large manila envelope in hand. She looked flushed.

“It was good seeing you, and meeting you Jack,” Warren said. “Congrats again.”

Ana smiled sweetly, while Jack looked skeptical.

Warren drove back to the job site and got busy going over the construction plans with the heavy equipment operators. Workers began clearing out at 5:00; by 5:30 p.m. the property was a ghost town.

Warren sat alone in his office trailer. It was the first time he had to fully process seeing Ana again. How it felt to be near her. It was like they hadn’t missed a beat. She was so open and non judgemental about his time in prison. He hadn’t told anyone about what it was like to be in prison and the hardship he faced when he got out- not even Savannah. He missed having someone to talk to, confide in. It had always been Ana. It would always be Ana. He sighed and responded to email from his staff at headquarters until there wasn’t sufficient natural light shining through the trailer’s two square windows to read the small print. He walked over to turn on the fluorescents when a text vibrated his phone and called him back to his desk. Warren’s heart lurched. It was irrational to hope it was Ana. She had no reason to contact him. She didn’t have his number. He hoped never-the-less.

Savannah had text, “Supper is warm in the oven when you get home.”

He responded with a thumbs up. As an adult, no one had ever expected him home, anticipated his needs, taken care of him. It felt good. Instead of turning on the lights, Warren collected his keys and headed to his sister’s house. A homemade meal, and watching sports with his nephew while he listened to his teenage niece’s latest drama sounded better than any work he could accomplish staying late at the office.

X.

Saturday morning, the Reid Family had a big breakfast at Savannah’s house before Warren headed to work and Savannah and their parents shuttled the kids around to their various activities.

“We thought we’d see more of you while you’re staying in Mountain Town,” Warren’s mother complained as she mixed pancake batter.

Warren sat at the kitchen table reading email on his phone, while his niece and nephew scrolled their phones. “I’m here now mom,” he sighed and set his phone down.

If he wasn’t on the jail project site, he was traveling to other Reid jobs in Houston and Baton Rouge, and to headquarters for the occasional business meeting. Not that he didn’t want to spend time with his family. He had to keep himself busy to avoid driving by the courthouse, hoping to see Ana. The glimpse into her life he had gotten that day at lunch was enough to know staying away from her was the only way to keep himself in check. Now more than ever, he was convinced Ana was his soulmate, but he wasn’t a man that meddled in others’ relationships.

“I just worry about you. You’re a young man, Warren you should be out enjoying your life, not working yourself to death.”

Warren laughed. “34 is not a ‘young man’.”

“It is when you are pushing 60,” his father walked into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of juice.

“Uncle Warren, are you coming with us to town tree lighting tonight?” 17-year-old Isabel asked.

“The shops on Main stay open late.”

“They bring in a band for live music and dancing. And there are food trucks,” Tyler added.

Warren’s mother flipped a pancake, then said, “Grandpa and I took your mom and uncle to the tree lighting every year when they were kids.”

“You should really come,” Savannah prompted as she set the table around him and the kids. “Maybe mom will chill out about you working so much if you take tonight off.”

“I’ll see how much I get done at the office today.”

“That means ‘no’,” Savannah told their mom.

“It’s Saturday,” his mother groaned.

“You remember how much fun the tree lighting was when we were Isbel and Tyler’s age?” Savannah said, “It will be really nice for the whole Reid family to go.” She laid the guilt on strong.

It worked. Warren began wrapping up work late afternoon and sent a group text he was on his way home. By the time he got to Savannah’s, she had pressed a pair of wranglers and a black pearl button snap shirt and laid it out for him to wear. Isabel was sent to retrieve a pair of her grandfather’s fancy ostrich boots.

“I’m more of t-shirt and work boots type,” Warren said as he surveyed the duds.

“Might as well put them on,” Tyler sauntered into the room looking sharp in a bright blue paisley western shirt, “Grandma, mom and Isabel live to dress us up like dolls.”

“I wish I had your hair,” Isabel said as Warren pulled it back. “I think you should wear it down tonight.”

“You look like a redneck cowboy with that long hair and beard,” Savannah frowned.

“I am a redneck cowboy,” Warren said matter-of-fact.

“You are the owner and CEO of a successful company,” she corrected him.

“And a redneck cowboy,” Warren corrected her.

“You don’t have to look like one. Whatever. No time for a shave and a haircut now.”

All six of them piled into the Jeep Wagoneer Warren bought for his mom a couple Christmases ago. It allowed her to haul Savannah’s kids, and potluck meals, and supplies for her volunteer activities with ease.

The downtown area was packed. Warren’s dad paid for parking rather than circling the town seeking a free spot.

“You must be in the Christmas spirit grandpa, you’d usually walk ten miles before you pay for parking,” Tyler noticed. The family laughed at the truth.

“I’m too hungry to walk ten miles. I might pass out if I have to walk ten blocks!” He told Tyler as he patted his protruding belly.

“The food trucks are in the bank lot, across from the courthouse,” Isabel said. “I saw them setting up when mom took me to basketball practice this morning.

Warren’s dad hightailed it to the food trucks. The rest of the family took their time, admiring the decoration, sights and smells of the local shops. Turning the corner onto Main, they were treated to a view of the tree in front of the courthouse. The lighting ceremony would not take place until dark, but the 75 foot tall spruce was striking, nevertheless.

The food court was a bustle of activity. Picnic tables were strewn around the area for seating, but townsfolk also sat on the courthouse retaining wall and steps. Warren took Savannah and the kids to the Hibachi truck, while his parents opted for traditional BBQ fare. The adults got adult beverages, the kids co*kes, and they sat together enjoying the music and watching people dance to ‘Two Step Round the Christmas Tree.’

The kids finished their meals and disappeared with their friends. Warren’s parents chatted with old friends.

“Let’s make the rounds,” Savannah grabbed Warren’s arm and led him around, introducing him to new faces and reintroducing him to people he knew growing up. If anyone remembered the unfortunate circ*mstances in which Warren left Mountain town they didn’t let on. They embraced him in a way that made him feel like a prodigal son. They joined a table of people they went to school with, and a few rounds later, took turns with various partners on the dance floor.

At dusk, string lights over the dance floor turned on, casting a warm glow on the polished concrete. The band played a Christmas ballad for slow dancing. Warren returned Savannah’s friend Kayla to her husband for the last dance before the tree lighting and patted Jake on the shoulder. Jake and Kayla had been married 12 years and had twin boys. It both warmed Warren’s heart and made him green with envy. Not for Kayla or rambunctious twin boys, but because he felt like he’d missed his chance for something similar. Although he’d served his time, his crime left scars. Scars that no one would overlook.

“Save the last dance for me?” He heard Ana’s voice and turned to see her green eyes sparkling. He extended his arm. She took it and he pulled her into a dance.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” she said. “You’ve been back a couple months now and I haven’t seen you around town. Not once.”

“I have a bad habit of burying myself in work.” He twirled her around the floor.

“I don’t remember you being a work-a-holic.”

“You remember me before I needed the distraction,” he said, looking into Ana’s eyes. She held his gaze for a moment before looking away.

He swallowed. “Savannah guilted me into coming tonight. I’m glad she did.”

He relished the opportunity to hold Ana, be close to her. It wasn’t nearly as close as he wanted to be. Her lips begged Warren to kiss her. She moved on. She’s engaged to be married next month- he reminded himself.

“5, 4, 3, 2, 1!” Lost in the moment together, they had missed the tree lighting ceremony, catching only the countdown. Now, the tree was illuminated with thousands of colorful lights. The courthouse looked like a gingerbread version. Spotlights highlighted the stained glass windows; each had a single candle lit inside. It was breathtaking.

Ana gripped Warren’s arm. He wrapped it around her and pulled her close, then without thinking, kissed the side of her head. Ana leaned into him, wrapping her arm around his waist.

The band fired up a peppy rendition of It’s Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas. Warren put his hand on the small of Ana’s back and ushered her off the dance floor as people repopulated it. When he looked up, he saw Jack Tharp, scowling at him from the sideline.

XII.

Early Monday morning, Sheriff Logan entered Warren’s office trailer.

“No donuts here, Sheriff,” Warren said without looking up from his computer. “I got fresh coffee though.” He nodded towards the pot on the filing cabinet.

Warren went to school with Matt and his brother, Knox Logan. Both men worked in law enforcement now. They had rekindled their friendship since Warren had been back in town. It wasn’t unusual for one or both of them to pop in unannounced, but this time when Warren looked up, the solemn look on Matt’s face suggested he had bad news.

“What’s up?”

“Don’t shoot the messenger,” Matt said as he plopped in the chair in front of Warren’s desk. “I’m here to serve you papers.”

“Papers?!”

Matt slid the legal envelope across the desk. Warren opened the envelope and scanned the contents.

“That asshole is bringing a case against Reid Contracting because I failed to disclose a ‘personal relationship'.” Warren made quotes with his fingers. He continued to read, “The vendor is required to file a ‘conflicts of interest questionnaire’ if the relationship has the potential to influence the outcome of the award,” Warren huffed back in his chair. “This is bull.”

Matt rendered a sympathetic look. “Listen, as the sheriff, I can’t say a thing. But as your friend, I agree that it’s bull. Jack Tharp is out for your blood because the wedding is off.”

“What?” Warren’s face registered shock. Though it was clear Jack was not happy with Ana’s interaction with Warren at the tree lighting that weekend, he didn’t appear to be out for blood.

“I thought you knew. Judging by how cozy you and Ana were the other night- I figured she told you.”

“We aren’t ... I mean, I’ve seen her a couple of times in town, but nothing is going on between us.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Matt said with a smirk.

Warren held up his hands in surrender. “Ana and I are old friends. Our past is ancient history.”

“If you say so.” Matt was not convinced. He leaned in and lowered his tone. “All I’m saying is the County Attorney would not risk his office bringing some bogus suit against you if he didn’t think you were out for his woman. And if he didn’t think you had a chance of getting her.”

“Look, we both know he can’t make a case. These allegations will get dismissed,” Matt pointed at the papers. But it is going to cost you time and money, and call Ana’s reputation into question. That is all he’s after. I always thought Jack Tharp was a prick.”

Warren stroked his beard, considering Matt’s words.

“Remember old Mayor Fuller. Knox had to put up with his bullsh*t when he moved back to Mountain Town and started dating Fuller’s daughter, Jenny. He always had it out for Knox, even back in high school. Guys like that think they can throw around their position and power to get what they want,” Matt warned.

“Knox and Jen are happily married now. All the bastard can do is pout about it.”

“Thanks man,” Warren said.

“No problem. I got your 6,” Matt rose from his chair and shook Warren’s hand before leaving the office.

XIX.

Reid’s legal counsel arrived by late afternoon. His attorneys were confident they could get the case thrown out. They prepared a statement to deliver to the courthouse Tuesday morning.

Warren was forced to shut down the job site until there was a resolution. Fortunately, they were ahead of schedule. Warren gave his workers a week of paid leave. Meanwhile, he stayed on site.

Tuesday afternoon, Warren was sitting at his desk reworking the construction labor schedule when he heard a knock on his office door.

“Come in!” he shouted, assuming it was a driver needing a signature for a material delivery. When he looked up, he saw Ana entering the trailer. He sat up straighter in his chair.

“It figured I’d find you here, working, even though the job site is a ghost town,” she said.

“And to make matters worse, you are eating pork rinds for lunch?” she pointed to the open bag on his desk.

“I am a glutton for punishment.” Warren motioned for her to sit in the chair opposite his desk and turned the bag towards her.

Ana put a pork rind in her mouth and swooned. “These are as good as I remember.”

“I won’t tell your constituents that their public official lacks refinement,” he said.

Ana giggled and covered her mouth before reaching for another. He tone turned serious.

“Warren, I’m here to apologize…about the lawsuit.”

“It’s my fault…I…”

“No, Ana, it’s your fiance’s fault.”

“He’s not my fiance anymore,” Ana corrected, meeting Warren’s eyes.

“Noted.”

“What I mean is, there is nothing you could have done to prevent him from going after Reid, challenging the contract to get to me.”

“Maybe not, but you don’t deserve it. You’ve worked so hard for this. I’m sorry my personal problems are affecting you.” Ana started to tear up.

“Believe me sweetheart, if this is all it takes for you to see his true colors before you marry him, it’s worth it.”

She looked around the trailer. “How long will you be out of commission?”

“Not long. A week?”

Ana cringed.

“I gave everyone paid vacation. They think Jack is a hero,” Warren joked.

“Will the lawsuit affect your job with the county?” he asked, concerned.

“Not unless you count lost productivity hiding in my office to avoid gossip at the courthouse.”

“My term is up in a few months. I decided not to run for a second term.” Ana brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I realize now that public office was another thing that I thought made sense, but isn’t what I actually want.”

“Like your relationship with Jack?” Warren asked.

Ana nodded.

“After the tree lighting, he accused me of still having feelings for you. I started to tell him that he was acting jealous and irrational, then, I realized he wasn’t. Because I do still have feelings for you. He was better at seeing the truth than I was,” Ana sighed.

Warren’s face softened. “Ana, I…”

“You know what I was thinking during the countdown?” she interrupted, “That the only thing that could make that night better is if I was going home with you.”

Warren stood, rounded the desk and kneeled in front of seated Ana. He cupped her face in his hand. “You know what I was thinking during the countdown?” he asked.

“What?” she sniffled.

“That the only thing that could make that night better is if I was going home with you.” Warren looked into Ana’s eyes. “What kind of life do you want, Ana?”

“One with you,” she said immediately, then blushed at her own boldness.

Warren leaned in to kiss her. “Me too,” he whispered.

The End

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