by Ellie Danes
“I’m not smarter, but I know when I’m dealing with dishonest people.” Rhett gave me a cold look and turned away from me. “I’ll talk to you guys about this later. I hope at least they’re paying for your lunch.”
He left the table and headed for the door, and I thought—for just a second—that it was over. That we would go back to pitching the idea of buying the farmland, and I would forget about the confrontation between Rhett and me completely.
But after less than a minute I thought about what I’d actually done. I had been educated too; I’d gone to a good university, and I’d had—if not exactly the same level of opportunity—then at least enough education to know that what I had just pulled wasn’t okay. I couldn’t argue Rhett’s actual point, so I’d sunk to a level that I would have expected to see from Jacob—insulting Rhett instead of having an actual debate.
You were doing what had to be done. It doesn’t matter if it wasn’t the most intellectually rigorous path, I told myself, as Dad tried to bring the topic back around to selling land and what it would do for the town. But if I really had that strong a position and if I really thought this was the right thing to do, wouldn’t I be able to argue just on that merit? Why did I think that these people should sell to us, anyway? I thought it mostly because it was good for Dad’s business—and by extension, my job. I thought it was good because it would bring in a new business to the community, but I knew that there was not much of a chance that the people in Mustang Ridge would benefit as much as the company. Even the ones who sold their land for the project would have a good hundred thousand or so—if that—and then they would have to figure out what to do with their smaller allotments, how to make a living with the behemoth next door dominating the property.
I went back and forth like that for what felt like an eternity, but when I checked my phone—quickly—I saw it had only been about a minute or two. I had to get out of the diner, I had to get out of the discussion that was starting up all around me again, and clear the air, if possible, with Rhett.
“I need to step outside for a minute,” I told Dad. “Phone’s ringing from the office.” It wasn’t, but I got up and disentangled myself from Jacob—who seemed to have decided to be a barnacle today—and headed for the door myself, hoping that I wasn’t too late to at least try and talk to Rhett.
He was on his way to his truck as I left the diner, and I hurried after him, hoping that I wasn’t making some great big spectacle of myself.
Chapter Ten
Rhett
I had to leave the diner before I blew up at Emily in front of my friends and neighbors. I knew it would do me no good, and it wouldn’t make anything better—and even if it would, I didn’t want to blow up at her, even if she kind of deserved it. It wasn’t the right thing to do, either from a moral perspective or a strategic one. If I wanted to convince people not to sell out their lands to some developing company, I would have to appeal to what made sense to them—not just get pissy with some woman because she fucked me on false pretenses.
I made myself wait just outside of the diner for a minute or two, gathering up my composure as my mother said, before starting off toward my truck. I’d done what I’d come to do with my closest friends, and I would get around to the other people in town who might sell their land off later on. I would have to think of a better way to explain things, a way that even people who were hurting financially would understand.
A woman’s voice called, “Rhett! Wait!”
I turned around and saw that it was Emily, hurrying toward me from the diner, and I started to turn back toward my truck. As far as I was concerned, there was nothing for us to say to each other.
“Not interested in selling, move right on along,” I told her, showing her my back.
“Let me talk to you for a second,” she said.
A big part of my brain told me to just keep walking—that she had nothing to say to me that I wanted to hear. But another part of my brain just couldn’t. Somehow, that part of my brain took control.
I turned around to face her. “What is it?”
“I’m sorry I went below the belt like that,” she said. “I should have just stuck with what’s true and real about this, and not brought in your education.”
“That isn’t even what I’m mad about,” I told her.
“You’re mad about me doing my job,” Emily countered. “This—this is my work, Rhett. It’s my job to help my dad convince people to sell, and to help him work with big companies. I was raised to do this. What if someone was mad at you for farming?”
I raised an eyebrow at that. “First of all, that doesn’t make any sense,” I said. “Who would be mad at me for farming?”
“Maybe someone who knows you can do more? Who knows that with the kind of education you have, you could be doing almost anything?” She looked at me frankly.
“Then if that person wanted me to do something else at the expense of my happiness, they aren’t for me,” I said.
“Why are you so angry at me for doing what I’m paid to do?”
“I’m mad at you for lying to me about it,” I said. “If you’d told me that you were here to scope out the town and find out who was most vulnerable, to convince them to sell their land to you, I never would have agreed to do the tour. I never would have invited you to my place, and I certainly wouldn’t have gone up into the barn with you.”
“I didn’t lie to you,” she said. “I just didn’t correct you when you assumed why I was here.”
“It’s the same thing, at the end of the day,” I told her.
“What am I supposed to do? Not do my job?” Emily crossed her arms over her chest. “And you still haven’t accepted my apology from before.”
“I didn’t accept it because it’s not why I’m mad at you,” I said. “I’m mad because your job is apparently to destroy this town.”
“How am I destroying it?” She shook her head, looking at me in disbelief. “A big business coming here would bring more money, better real estate values—it would bring more people, it would make this town something great!”
“It already is something great,” I said. “It’s great because it isn’t pretending to be something it’s not. Because people have lived here for generations, everyone knows everyone. Because we’re family.”
“Are you saying you don’t want people coming to the town because it will disrupt your idea of being related to everyone?” She threw up her hands, shaking her head. “You actually got to leave this town—isn’t there any part of you that thinks that Mustang Ridge will be better if there are at least a few more people here?”
“I left and got to see part of the world,” I pointed out. “And I made the decision to come back because what we have here is worth saving. When my dad died, I came back because it was worth it to me to take care of my mom, to keep the farm going.” I paused to let that sink in for a moment, and then I remembered the way she’d kept looking at the older man at the table with her—obviously that was her father. “You should at least understand why family is important.”
“What do you mean? Of course I know family is important—what does that have to do with this?”
“You obviously care a lot about what your dad thinks about you,” I pointed out. “Would you have been so insulting if your dad hadn’t been sitting right there?”
Her beautiful face flushed red and then went pale. “I admitted I was wrong,” she said quietly. “And I’m sorry I did that. I shouldn’t have.”
“I appreciate the apology,” I said.
There was nowhere to go from here. We were on opposite sides of the issue and there was no way around it, even if part of me wished there was.
“Look,” I said. “I get that this is your job, and you’re going to go through with it. You don’t owe me anything. Good luck with it. But you’d better know that I’m going to fight what you’re trying to do every step of the way.”
When she didn’t respond right away, I finally made myself turn around again
, and I walked the rest of the way to my truck. It was just as well that Emily didn’t say anything to me as I left.
She was still standing in front of the diner as I pulled out of my parking spot and headed back to the house. I thought about what had happened between Emily and me. I could see why she would feel like she needed to impress her dad; I’d had the same urge when my own father had been alive, and I still wanted to do right by him, even if he was dead and couldn’t see what I was doing anymore.
I knew I was right. There was no need to bring in some huge company to make the town better. Mustang Ridge was already good, even if it wasn’t a wealthy town. We took care of each other, we worked with each other. Everyone knew everyone else, just like I’d told Emily. Bringing in a big company would just mess with that dynamic and ruin everything that made Mustang Ridge what it was. People would end up moving away over time, pushed out by the big corporate giant. Everything that held the town together would be gone.
I pulled into the driveway and saw Mom on the patio, shelling peas into a bowl in her lap. She’d bought a half-bushel of them the day before, and she was working on shelling and blanching them, freezing some and making things with the rest. I’d offered to help her the night before, but she’d pointed out that I’d been working out in the fields all day, and that was enough.
“How did your lunch go with the guys?” Mom knew what I’d found out about Emily, about the plans she was trying to make happen in the town.
“I saw her talking with some other farmers,” I told Mom, sitting down on the rocker next to her. “Apparently the older guy she works with is her father. Don’t know about that other guy—but I guess he works at the company too.”
“So, what happened?” Mom tossed an empty pea pod into the paper bag off to the side, plucked another full one out of the big pot next to her, and began shelling it, her hands and fingers moving automatically. I was pretty sure she could shell peas in her sleep, if it came to that.
“I think I might have a harder fight than I thought,” I admitted. “Lots of people in town have been going through lean times, so they’re thinking about selling just because it’s easy.”
“There’ve always been people like that,” Mom said. “I remember—it was just before you were born—about five people along the road all sold out their farms.”
I looked up the road that led to my driveway. “Yeah, but they weren’t selling to some huge corporation,” I pointed out. “They were selling to other people.”
“You can’t tell folks not to take fair value for their land,” Mom told me. She tossed the empty pea pod into the trash bag. “You’re going to have to convince them some other way.”
“I hope I can get through to them,” I said. “But it’s hard when there’s someone dangling the idea of easy money. Some of these people think they’re going to just...I don’t even know.”
“Things change,” Mom pointed out. “Even in a little old town like this one.”
“But they don’t have to change like that,” I insisted. “This is change that would destroy the town.”
“And you’re mad at that girl for doing her part in it,” Mom mused.
“More mad at her for lying to me about it,” I said.
“It’s kind of a shame. You two looked cute together,” Mom said, smiling. “Especially the way you kept giving each other googly eyes when you thought I wasn’t paying attention.”
“We did not,” I said firmly. “The fact that she’s a good-looking woman has nothing to do with it.” Except that it did—and I knew it. I felt betrayed not just because Emily had lied to me, but because she and I had had sex and I’d thought she was moving to Mustang Ridge. I told myself that I wouldn’t have done that if I’d known what she was really here to do, but I didn’t know if that was true at all. I might have been tempted anyway. But finding out that she had been lying to me made me feel all the more stupid for having sex with her.
“Well I can only tell you what I saw,” Mom said. “Were you at least able to get through to Nate or Kyle or John or Pete?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I’m going to talk to as many people as possible. If they can’t get anyone to sell their farms off, or any of their land, they can’t come here.”
“It sounds like a solid plan,” Mom said.
“I hope so,” I agreed with a sigh. “I should change into work clothes and get out there.” I looked over at the sun-drenched fields and for a second I could almost—almost—understand why some people would want to sell out. It was a hard life. But I couldn’t think of anything else I would rather do.
I got up and went inside, thinking that I would figure out my plan of attack while I was working. I always seemed to think better when I was out in the fields.
Chapter Eleven
Emily
“It’s our goal to give you fair value for your land, and make sure that you’re compensated not just for the land you’re going to be losing, but for the opportunity that land represents,” I said to the Turners, who’d finally agreed to meet with me at their house to talk about the project.
“How are you determining what that value is?” Mr. Turner asked.
That was a question I’d gotten a lot over the past week, and it was one that I had an answer to—sort of, at least. I’d been going from one farm to another, talking to people who owned the land we needed for the project, and while there were a few people in Mustang Ridge who obviously wanted to sell out and see what they could do with some capital, there were others that were a tougher sell.
“Our starting point is the market value for the land itself,” I explained. “And then we have some discretion built into the budget for offering more money based on how important it is to the project our partner is bringing in, as well as the need the people selling the land have, things like that.”
“Sounds like you’re saying that the brokest people will be getting more money,” he said.
I had to think of that one a bit.
“Not exactly,” I said. “It’s a complicated equation, but rest assured that I’m going to make sure that each person gets as much value as we can offer.”
“I don’t expect you to care as much about the community as the people who live here,” Mrs. Turner said, “but I just wanted to ask—do you really think this project is for our benefit?”
“I’m not going to blow sugar up your ass—pardon my French,” I said with a little smile. “The goal for the company we’re partnering with isn’t to benefit the town, it’s to develop their company. That’s the honest truth. But I do think that bringing them here will help the town out. It’ll bring new business here, it’ll bring new people.”
“I appreciate you being honest with us,” Mr. Turner said. “Can you give us a ballpark you’re willing to pay—some kind of base rate we can work with?”
That was kind of against the rules. I was supposed to wait until the people I spoke to named a number, and then negotiate from that point.
“I can tell you what I know about the appraisal value of the property,” I said. “And from there we can talk specifics.”
We chatted for a while longer, and I avoided naming a price that we’d be willing to pay. Eventually the Turners said that they would get in touch to follow up with me.
I left the Turner farm and checked my phone for where I needed to go next. I’d been making the rounds for about a week since my confrontation with Rhett, and I wasn’t sure how much success we were going to have. More than one person had told me that Rhett had beaten me to talking to them—that they owed Rhett for his help in some way, and they believed and trusted in his judgment that it was a bad idea to sell to my dad and me. I’d already told Dad that we might have to sweeten the pot a bit more for some of the people on our list, but he’d countered that we would just have to get creative, and I would have to rely on my sales skills. I had to convince people that it was the best decision to sell.
My next stop was the Moore place; it wasn’t a farm exactly bec
ause they raised geese, but they had pretty extensive property, and it was one of the pieces that we would need for the project we wanted to bring to town. I got into my car and checked the address again, making sure I knew where to go. For a small town, it was pretty easy to get lost along the winding roads.
Tracy Moore was sitting on the porch, shucking corn when I arrived. I shut off the engine and got out of the car, squaring my shoulders. I knew from talking to her once before that she wouldn’t be willing to commit to anything without her husband around to agree to it, too. Fortunately, that seemed to go both ways; I didn’t think I would be able to get Greg to commit to anything if Tracy wasn’t present, either.
“Good to see you again, Tracy,” I said, smiling as I approached the porch. “Just wanted to check in on you, and see if there’s anything else you want to talk about regarding the offer we have for you.”
“Well, Greg isn’t around, so I can’t agree to anything one way or another,” Tracy said. “He’s over helping Rhett Baxter at the Nolans’ place.”
“Oh—what’s up with the Nolans?” I’d spoken to them the day before, and the elderly couple was definitely ripe to sell because they didn’t have anyone to pass their farm down to.
“They needed help out in the fields, so Rhett came and asked Greg if he’d come out too,” Tracy said.
“Want some help shucking corn?” It would, at least, give me something to do while I chatted with Tracy, and I could hope that being helpful would work to my advantage, at least a little bit. Getting a decent reputation with the people in Mustang Ridge would make them more likely to trust me. That was something I’d learned from Dad, and while his methods for doing obtaining trust were different, I couldn’t see anything wrong with the overall goal.
“I’ll always take an extra set of hands,” Tracy told me with a smile.
