by Merry Farmer
Jessica sniffed. “Of course you’re speaking. You’re the one who brought this whole issue to the table.”
“But I didn’t really—” There was no point in going on. Jessica had turned and marched off to the front of the room as soon as she said her bit. Scott turned back to Casey with a questioning look.
“And so it begins,” Casey said, trying to see the humor in the situation. “You’re about to get a crash course in Bonneville 101.”
His expression turned wary. “Not sure I’m ready for this.”
“Sure you are.” Casey reassured him with a smile. She thumped him on the arm. “Now go up there and get your dream house built.”
Scott smiled—though it felt a little forced to Casey—and gave her a quick kiss before marching up the aisle to the front of the room. Casey watched him say something to Jessica, then head around to the stairs leading up to the small stage where the city council table was set up. It was somewhat of a relief to Casey that Melody and Calliope’s mom, Luna, who was on the council, swept over to meet him at the top of the stairs, her long, hippie skirt flowing and her many bangles glittering in the lights focused on the stage.
Casey’s gaze shifted to her friends as they took their seats near the front of the room. She should sit with them, but as soon as Ronny and Richard Bonneville walked onto the stage through a door at the back of the stage that led to some of the offices, deep trepidation gripped her. She needed to be with her family right then. Really, she needed her mom, but her dad and Ted were all she had.
“This seat taken?” she asked, wedging her way past her dad and gesturing for Ted to get up and scoot down one chair so she could sit between them.
Ted moved without question, which was a bad sign as far as she was concerned. “What’s your sweetheart doing up on the stage?” he asked as soon as Casey was seated.
“Mrs. Chapman told him he’s expected to defend his position.”
Both Ted and her dad looked at her. “I don’t like the sound of that,” her dad muttered.
“Me neither,” Ted agreed. “They’re definitely up to something.”
There was no need to ask who “they” were.
“I don’t see the point in stopping that young man from building a green house,” Roscoe went on, rubbing his stubbly chin.
“Yeah,” Ted agreed. “Something here doesn’t add up.”
“Do you know anything about it?” Roscoe asked Casey.
Casey shrugged, feeling guilty for about a thousand reasons, none of which seemed to have any bearing on the current proceedings.
She was spared having to answer her dad as Richard Bonneville banged a gavel from his seat in the center of the table. “This meeting will come to order,” he called out in his rich, booming voice. “We’ll make it a short one, people. I’m sure you want to get home to watch the latest episode of Tractors and Tiaras, or whatever the latest reality show is these days.”
A few people in the audience chuckled. That reminder that not everyone in town opposed the Bonnevilles made Casey uneasy. In fact, a large number of people supported Richard and his plans. He wouldn’t have been elected mayor otherwise.
Casey sat up, craning her neck as she looked for Howie. There was no way Howie would miss a meeting like this. But once again, Howie was missing.
“On tap tonight is the proposal of a new zoning law,” Bonneville went on. He turned to his son, seated on his left side. “Ronny, would you do the honors?”
“Sure thing, Pop.” Ronny stood, a single piece of paper in his hands.
“Hey, aren’t you gonna wait for Howie to show up?” Ace McCutcheon called from the middle of the audience. A few people spoke up in support of him.
Bonneville shrugged. “I don’t see why. Howie is not on the city council.”
“Yeah, but there’s a reason the town is called Haskell,” Ace went on.
Bonneville frowned at the further murmurs of agreement. “Howie Haskell is a private citizen, just like everyone else, and if he can’t be bothered to do his civic duty by showing up at public meetings, then his opinion doesn’t count any more than anyone else’s.” A few people in the audience grumbled, but Bonneville rushed on with, “Ronny, go ahead.”
Ronny cleared his throat, scowling at Howie’s supporters, then said, “In light of the proposal to build an off-grid, green construction house by Mr. Scott Martin—” He gestured to Scott, who was now seated at the very end of the table, looking concerned and confused. “—the council has expressed some concerns. In a closed meeting last week, we discussed problems of buildings being built to code, the loss of revenue stemming from houses of this sort not being connected to public utilities, and the potential proliferation of substandard dwellings.”
Casey caught herself holding her breath. Of course, the council met every other week to discuss business, but it still came as a shock to her that they had already discussed the issues surrounding Scott’s house without everyone in town being privy to what was said. Probably also without Howie’s presence. Scott seemed just as taken aback by the revelation as well. He sat with his hands folded on the end of the table, a deep scowl etched into his handsome face.
“Mr. Martin, since this is your project, do you have anything you’d like to add?” Ronny asked, his lips twitching as though the whole thing was just a formality and he was itching for a chance to interrupt Scott mid-defense.
Scott took up the challenge as calmly as any judge. “Only that green housing is a benefit not only to the environment, but to the town as well. Green houses reduce pollution, and encourage self-sufficiency. I could present you with more statistics and case studies than I gave in my previous presentation,” he went on. “I was under the impression that presentation was informal and informational. If I’d known you were looking for hard data—”
“That won’t be necessary.” Sure enough, Ronny jumped on the opportunity to interrupt and make himself look important. “The council has all the data it needs.”
“I’m not sure you do,” Scott said.
He was ignored. Ronny turned to glance at the council members at the other end of the table. “But as we discussed, the issue of off-grid housing brought up another problem that needs to be addressed.”
Instinctively, Casey’s gut clenched.
Ronny went on. “Mr. Martin purchased the land to build his house from the Flint family.” Ronny looked right out over the audience to where Casey and her family were sitting. The smile he sent them gave Casey the same feeling she would have gotten if a python smiled at her. “And as we all know, the Flint family ranch is one of the oldest in the area,” Ronny went on. “It’s part of the original Paradise Ranch, in fact.”
“True, true,” Bonneville spoke up, completely unnecessarily but dripping with calculation.
“I know my friend Casey Flint has been deeply concerned about the implications of selling off a piece of her family’s land,” Ronny said.
Casey jerked straight in her chair, eyes wide. Several people twisted in their seats to look at her. She could feel her cheeks burn. Ronny was not and never had been her friend. She had a feeling he was about to be even less so now.
But Ronny went on with an indulgent grin for her. “In fact, she’s been tirelessly campaigning to stop Mr. Martin from building at all.”
“How does he know—” She didn’t bother finishing her question. This was Haskell. Gossip was in the air. He could have found out how she felt about things from anyone.
“And I think she’s right,” Ronny continued. “In fact, Casey was the one who inspired me to make the suggestion for a new law that we’re here to discuss tonight.”
“What law?” Roscoe grumbled.
There was no way Ronny could have heard him, but he went on to say, “The law I’ve proposed is designed to protect Haskell’s heritage. Because, as Casey has reminded us, if we don’t protect our past and preserve our family lands, what do we have?” A ripple passed through the audience. Ronny’s smile grew. “Therefore, the law
that is now up for discussion and ratification would protect the old ranches of Haskell by designating them as historical properties.”
Casey’s frown deepened. She knew that was a bad thing, in spite of how it sounded, but she couldn’t put her finger on why.
Until Ronny reminded her, reminded them all. “And as we all know, there are already laws in place here in Haskell which specify that properties designated as historical landmarks cannot be divided, partitioned, or sold off in pieces. If a sale becomes necessary, the land must be sold in one piece, all or nothing, and no structures can be added or demolished on said property, except in the case of extreme dilapidation.”
More murmurs rose up from the audience. They were almost enough to cover Roscoe’s growl of, “That son-of-a-bitch.”
“What?” Ted leaned forward and asked across Casey.
Roscoe scooted forward in his seat too so that the family formed a tight circle. “It means that if we run into trouble again, like we did this year, we can’t sell or lease or even rent part of the ranch. We’d have to sell the whole thing outright.”
“To them,” Ted hissed, fury clouding his expression.
“And what do you want to bet they’ll add some provision into the law that’ll force Scott to sell back the five acres he already bought?”
Sure enough, before Roscoe could even finish, Ronny had gone on to add, “There’s also a provision in the proposed law to reclaim any part of historic properties that have been sold off within the last five years, in order to maintain the integrity of the historic land.”
More talking erupted from the audience, louder than ever. It was like bees swarming to Casey. She stared at Ronny, willing him to take back his words. This wasn’t what she’d wanted at all. All she’d wanted was to stop her family’s ranch from being cut up and sold to strangers. She just wanted things to be the way they used to be, with her mom still alive and well, the ranch thriving, and heck, even with her continuing to compete in the rodeo without the feelings of bitter regret that followed her everywhere. The ball that she’d started rolling had somehow turned into a wrecking ball that threatened to reduce everything she wanted to rubble.
“Well, I think it sounds like a fine idea,” Jessica spoke up from the council table, settling the audience a little. “It’s about time we did more to protect our heritage land.”
“I agree that Haskell’s historical sites need protection, especially in these economic times,” Louise Meyers said. “But you realize the implications of this law for the old ranch families if the economy slumps even more, don’t you?”
“What are they?” Luna Clutterbuck asked.
Louise held her hands out. “If they run into financial trouble, they have very few choices. They’d have to sell the whole ranch.”
“And part of the logic behind Roscoe Flint selling me the five acres he did,” Scott spoke up from his end of the table, “was to gain the maximum amount of financial relief with the minimum amount of disruption to the ranch itself.”
“That’s what I thought,” Luna said.
“I know that sounds noble,” Ronny said, still standing in his spot next to his gloating father, a smarmy smile on his face too, “but think of the implication for Haskell’s historic properties. It’s a slippery slope. Someone sells five acres to a private citizen one day, but tomorrow some other old family could sell off fifty acres to someone who wants to build one of those mega-stores.”
A wave of disapproval swept through the audience. No one in town wanted a super-store nearby, not even Casey. But it was as clear as day to her that the mega-store idea was a smokescreen. Anyone with eyes could see the Bonnevilles wanted to snatch up the Flint ranch, and who knew how many others.
“Maybe we should be less concerned about buying away people’s ranches and more concerned about passing laws to help those ranchers out in hard times,” Piper Strong, another of the council members spoke over the growing din.
Her comment was met by a round of approval from the audience that made Casey feel marginally better.
“Haskell doesn’t have the money to go bailing out every rancher who can’t manage their business on their own,” Bonneville countered her. His smug grin was gone, replaced by the irritated expression he wore whenever someone argued with him.
“Oh no?” Piper shot back at him. “And who was it that took a loan from the town when they were trying to start a truck dealership thirty years ago?”
“That’s not the same,” Bonneville blustered.
A hopeful smile touched Casey’s lips for a second. She always loved it when the older Haskell residents dug up everything anyone had done in the past and used it to make a point in the present. Maybe more than other towns out there, what their ancestors—or even their younger selves—had done held serious weight in any argument.
“This isn’t an argument about offering town-backed loans to entrepreneurs,” Ronny nearly roared in his efforts to be heard over the growing noise in the room. “It’s about not allowing the historic ranches to be sold off piece by piece.”
“And that’s a good thing,” Jessica seconded him.
“Not if it forces families to sell out completely,” Piper continued to argue.
She wasn’t the only one. Mini debates were breaking out all through the room. Casey felt increasingly like she was being buried in a deluge of sound and fury. How had her own, private concerns bubbled over into something that threatened to hurt far more people than just her? There were other ranches at stake too, the Bertran ranch and the Chance ranch, not to mention all of the property owned by the Haskell family. The other half of what had been Paradise Ranch hadn’t been ranched in ages, but the entire Paradise Space Flight facility had been built within the last five years.
Casey blinked and sat back with a jolt. There was a chance that the law that the Bonnevilles were attempting to push through could somehow make the entire PSF facility illegal. And where would that twist take them? It was all so much bigger than she could comprehend.
“Order, order!” Bonneville banged his gavel on the table to bring everyone back to attention. As soon as the room quieted, he said, “The city council has already started debates about the proposed law. We’re happy to hear your opinions on things, but we’re going to do it in an orderly fashion. Everyone who has a question, line up where Mabel is setting up the microphone.”
At the front of the right-hand aisle, Patty Pettigrew was arranging a microphone on a stand. She wore a long-suffering frown, and if Casey wasn’t mistaken, she was muttering to herself as she worked.
“But I’ll tell you all right now,” Bonneville went on, “the council has already decided to take a vote on the proposed historical preservation law at next week’s meeting.”
“Next week?” Casey blew out a panicked breath. That gave her almost no time to figure out what the heck had happened and to stop it.
“This is gonna be one hell of a show,” Roscoe muttered at her side.
She reached out and grabbed his hand, not sure if it was to reassure him or to stop herself from panicking. As the round of questions began, she couldn’t shake the feeling that if the law passed, it would all be her fault.
Chapter Fifteen
Scott sat stock still at the table on stage, staring straight ahead at nothing. He felt like he’d been blindsided. Worse still, he felt like he’d been used. So that’s what everyone meant when they said that the Bonnevilles worked in sneaky, underhanded ways. Try as he did to walk backwards through the situation, he still couldn’t see how he could have prevented it. How could he have known that buying five acres could cause a family to lose their entire ranch?
Because it was plain as day that that’s what the Bonnevilles intended.
The auditorium was clearing, and continuing to sit at the table doing nothing wasn’t solving any problems, so Scott pushed his chair back and stood.
“I hope you realize there’s nothing personal about all this,” Ronny stopped him before he made it to the stairs a
t the side of the stage.
Scott turned to him with a frown. “I seriously doubt that.”
Ronny blinked with false innocence. “How can it be personal when we barely know you? And besides,” he went on before Scott could reply, “we’re not saying that you can’t build your house. In fact, I think it’s a great idea. In fact, I own several prime tracts of lands in beautiful spots around the edges of town that I’d love to discuss with you.”
“I have my land,” Scott said as he descended the stairs, looking to the back of the room for Casey.
Ronny chuckled. “Well, I’m not so sure you will after next week. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get all of your money back and then some.”
“Excuse me?” Scott paused a few steps from the stairs and glared at Ronny again.
“Oh yeah,” Ronny said as though he were doing Scott a huge favor. “I mean, the Flints should pay some sort of penalty for rescinding the transaction so far after cashing your check, especially if the sale was illegal.”
“The sale was not illegal.” Sandy Templesmith stepped in from the group of Casey’s friends that were clustered not all that far from Scott’s own team nearby.
“Hi, Sandy.” In an instant, Ronny went from being a slimy used car salesman to a dorky high school kid facing down his crush. “Did you see how well I handled the meeting just now?”
Sandy gave Ronny exactly the sort of disgusted, dismissive look he deserved. “It was not illegal for Roscoe Flint to sell land to Mr. Martin here,” she said, sounding like the lawyer she was.
“Well, technically not yet.” Ronny wasn’t getting the hint. He still dripped with false machismo. “But as soon as we pass the law next week, it will be retroactively illegal.”
“There’s no such thing,” Sandy told him, jaw tight, eyes narrowed.
“Not yet,” Ronny said again. He swayed closer to her, his grin smarmy. “Though if you have enough patience, just about anything that you thought was impossible could happen.”
