There were a couple of seats, he finally noticed, near Mayor and Mrs. Beaumont. Nervy of them to come, he thought, when they were trying to extricate their son from the consequences of his actions—one of which resulted in the death of the girl the town had come together to honor.
Was it a coincidence that the two of them sat slightly apart from the crowd? Laura Beaumont looked as composed and distant as always in what looked like a designer dress, her makeup perfect, a flashy piece of bling around her neck. The two sat side by side, not even brushing shoulders and when she turned briefly in his direction, he saw dark circles under her eyes her makeup couldn’t completely conceal.
He had been so frustrated with the mayor these past few weeks that this unexpected pang of sympathy took him completely by surprise. Yeah, the man was handling the situation completely wrong, but Laura and William must be heartsick, seeing their son’s future implode.
Kids put their parents through hell. He certainly had. It was a wonder his own mother was willing to still talk to him after all his crap.
“Come on,” the auctioneer was saying. “Remember, this is a part of Hope’s Crossing history, made from silver taken out of the original Silver Strike lode.”
Riley turned his attention to the auction and saw the bid was for a flimsy filigree necklace on a velvet-covered form.
“You have the chance to take home a piece of history here, folks. Bid is two thousand dollars. Do I hear twenty-one? Twenty-one? No? Going once, going twice, sold to number seventy-five for two thousand dollars. Sir, you may come up and collect your item and provide your information to our lovely assistants.”
Holly Bradford jumped up with a little squeal and hugged her husband, then the two of them headed to the side of the dais, where Claire now stood holding the necklace. He was close enough that he could see her expression. Her mouth seemed tight and he thought he saw a glimmer of sadness in her eyes, but he wasn’t sure whether it was a trick of the lighting, especially when she smiled graciously enough when Holly gave her a giggling hug.
He couldn’t hear their interaction but he could guess, especially when Holly turned around, leaving Claire to fasten the necklace on her.
That cheerful smile never left her features even amid her ex-husband’s younger wife’s excitement, and Riley’s throat constricted. In that moment, he loved Claire so fiercely that he couldn’t breathe around it.
“Our last piece of jewelry of the evening is this exquisite handmade piece created by the organizer of today’s incredibly successful event, our very own Claire Bradford. Folks, let’s give her another round of applause.”
Riley clapped the loudest and Claire slanted a look toward him. Their eyes met for a long moment, hers guarded, his solemn. Something significant passed between them, unspoken but intense.
When she turned away, she was blushing—and he was determined to take her from here as soon as he could.
The auctioneer picked up the necklace, also displayed on a velvet jewelry form. He didn’t know anything about beading but even he could see the piece was exquisite, a tangle of color that gleamed brilliantly in the ballroom lights, anchored by a stunning rose-colored heart.
“Claire tells me this is made out of precious and semiprecious gems, each of which can be found in the mountains of Colorado. We’ve got aquamarine, the state gem of Colorado, as well as topaz and tourmaline. She estimates about a hundred hours of work went into this—and keep in mind, this was all done while the designer and creator had a broken arm.”
The crowd applauded again and Claire gave an embarrassed but pleased smile.
“Claire calls this piece the Heart of Hope. Fitting, don’t you think? Let’s start the bidding at a hundred dollars. Anyone?”
Riley looked at the necklace gleaming there in the light and then he turned to the woman he loved, whose strength and beauty would always outshine anything else.
He smiled, knowing just what he had to do. He stepped forward and raised his hand. “Twenty-five hundred dollars,” he called out.
All eyes turned to him and a few people gasped. He didn’t care about anyone else or about how foolish he felt bidding on a necklace. He only cared about Claire. Her expression was stunned, her eyes huge and her mouth slightly open. After a moment she swallowed, the look of shock changing to something else, something bright and glittery.
“Okay.” The auctioneer hesitated for only a beat. “Now that’s what I’m talking about, folks. The new chief of police starts things out right. The bid is twenty-five hundred, do I hear twenty-seven-fifty?”
“Three thousand,” a gruff voice called out.
Riley spun around and found his competitor was Harry Lange, the old bastard. The guy gave him an annoying smirk and Riley wished again he’d shoved that stogie down his throat.
“Thirty-five,” Riley said immediately.