“You know what I realized while I was fishing? That there is always going to be something, or someone, who isn't going to be happy with my choices. I'm an adult. I can only live in my parents’ shadow for so long. I need to do what makes me happy. I want to be with you, Miranda. I’m sorry I was such a hypocrite before, wanting you badly but still acting like a shit about it. I went fishing to find what makes me happy.”
“What's that? Fishing?”
“Fishing. Reading. I like reading financial-type thrillers. Haven't picked a book up in years. I like you. I like baseball. Thinking of seeing if anyone needs an assistant coach this year.”
“That's great, Ryan. I'm happy you’re doing some soul-searching.”
“You never answered me though. Will you come with us this weekend? I’ve already spoke to the kids; they would love to have you join us. Especially Bri.”
I thought of Bri’s article. No doubt she’d be thrilled by the prospect of Ryan doing what he likes, what he wants.
“I would love to go, but first, let me show you what I’ve been working on.”
He follows me to my table where I have the maps of Lone Star laid out. I explain to him what I did, how I marked all the properties and how I didn't think it was coincidental that the mayor and the Yates brothers owned property near him.
“I wonder if either of them are tied to High Plains?”
“Maybe it's the mayor,” he says.
“Why wouldn't Rich ask you about your shares instead of going through this?”
“Is this off the record?” He asks.
“What? Of course. Everything you and I discuss is off the record.”
“Altitude Energy is building a plant out on Pepper Ridge. I found that out during my little break away from Lone Star.”
“Who told you that?”
“Jean Yates.”
“You talked to that scumbag?”
“I needed information.”
“He’s probably lying to you.”
“Considered that. But my gut tells me he’s being honest.”
“Well, I wouldn't trust him if my life depended on it.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ryan
I want to tell Miranda about my conversation with Yates, but her attitude makes it crystal clear she isn't having any of it. I couldn’t blame her, not after the way he’d attacked her. What would he have done if I hadn't shown up? Why bother telling her and risk ruining this great moment between us because of Jean? I said nothing.
I have to figure out who is behind High Plains. Could it be Jean even though he’d given me a bit of information? In his twisted mind, perhaps that was his way of helping out my dad after all these years. A way at giving him something back for giving him that money. On the other hand, why tip me off to something that could be so financially rewarding to him?
Maybe it was Rich. I wouldn't put it past him. He could be a slimeball when needed. Although, I knew Rich owned A&T stock. Like me, it’d been in his family for generations so I don't know how hard-up he would be to risk his mayoral status to try and blackmail the citizens of Lone Star for water shares. If he is behind High Plains, I could almost guarantee I wasn't the only person here he’s trying to swindle water shares out of.
“What’s this cute little heart here?”
“Oh, that's your place.” She blushes and I can feel myself rising to attention. I laugh because she’s so fucking cute. I can't believe it's taken me this long to pull my head out of my ass. Standing here with her, I feel renewed. I feel like I can take on the world. So long as she is by my side,
“That's sweet. Do you really think the mayor would be behind this? Especially considering all the scandal he’d be in the middle of, if it were him behind High Plains?”
“I don't know. We need a way to drag out the person behind High Plains. We’ve got to come up with something worthy enough to get them out of hiding.”
“Maybe I sell my shares.”
“What? No way. Could you do that Ryan? They’ve been in your family for over a hundred years.”
“Yes, but this isn't what I want to do all of my life. Especially since I went fishing. If I sell my shares, I could get away from the farm.”
She eyes me skeptically. I didn't want to sell my water shares. Not really. But I did want to find out who was behind High Plains.
“We’ve got to come up with a solid plan to get High Plains out of hiding. Maybe we could figure something out on those forums you were telling me about?”
“But it's all done electronically. Even if we were lucky enough to see the High Plains handle again, and were able to pull him into conversation, we still wouldn't be able to figure out who he was.”
“So we set up a trap.”
“How?”
I shake my head. Fuck if I know.
“Don't know. There has to be some way. A bidding war? Set it up like I’m selling a portion of the shares at a public auction?”
“That will attract so many people that aren't involved with High Plains. Let me think of what to do. I might have an idea. In the meantime, come and help me pack for our fishing trip.”
I am going to have to make another deal with the devil. I suspected Yates knew who High Plains was. I’d pretty much decided then and there that he knew who High Plains was and that motherfucker was going to tell me. If I had to give him a stock or two, so be it, but he would tell me who was behind this. There is something bothering me about this entire situation that I couldn't put my finger on.
My dad.
What did my dad have to do with Jean Yates’ family? Why would he give him money? My first car was a beat-up Chevy truck that was about a hundred years old. I’d had to buy it with my own money. Like any other teen, I’d hadn't been able to understand why I had to buy it. Then the older I got, I let it go not caring anymore but finding out years later he’d given Yates ten grand, well, it rubbed me the wrong fucking way now. My dad didn't dole money out to be nice, to be helpful. There had to have been more at stake. He had to have had an agenda. There was only one person I could think that would know the answer to any of this and that was my dad’s brother. My uncle Don. He was a year older than my dad and hopefully, knew what the hell went on back then.
“Ryan? You with me?”
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“What were you thinking about?”
“About how we haven't ever made it to your bedroom to have sex. Come here.”
Pulling the flimsy t-shirt she was trying to pack out of her hands, I begin to make up for all the ways I’ve hurt her. Getting onto my knees, I push my face in between her sweet thighs, my tongue feeling the heat under her panties. Her clit is already hard and I bite it hard through her pink panties. So hard that she yelps. I pull them off her and start to show her how much making up I need to do.
Once I’ve pleasured her enough that I am satisfied, I bid farewell. It was already long into the night and I wanted to catch my uncle at home before he got to his shop early this morning. Hopefully, instead of only creating more questions, he would be able to give me the answers I was looking for.
Since school was over for the summer, the kids are still asleep as I get ready to leave the house the following morning. I’d rolled out of bed extra early to get all of my farm chores done and having only four hours of sleep, I am oddly wide awake and still tasting Miranda on my lips. Adrenaline pumps through me as I drive toward uncle Don’s, silently praying for answers. If Don couldn’t tell me much, I hadn't a clue where else to look.
Miranda questioned the timing of the Wind Energy Conference with whoever it was that wanted to buy my stock and the more I thought about it, realized it was a plausible conclusion. Truthfully, I didn't think the mayor was ballsy enough to create a fake company and go around buying up people's water shares. Rich loved being the mayor. He was one of those people who let power go to his head. If he could get the town to bow down anytime he passed by, he would. That was the kind of prick he was. I couldn't see him thr
owing it all away for some water rights. Especially when he already owned some.
I pull up to my aunt and uncle’s house just as Don is grabbing the news paper from the end of his driveway.
“Ryan, what brings you back so soon? One of the kids leave something?”
“No, no. I'm pretty sure they packed up all their belongings. At least, I haven't heard them complain. How’s it going this morning?”
“Morning’s mighty fine. But you’re not here to shoot the breeze, are you?”
“Am I that transparent?”
“Nope. I only guessed because you look like a man who’s in limbo,” he laughs. “And because I just saw you and you looked better then.”
“Glad you find me so entertaining.”
“Come in. Your aunt’s in the backyard working on her flowers before the heat comes out.”
I follow my uncle through his garage and into his house. It’s a small house and every time I walked in to it, I thank God that I hadn’t allowed the twins to live with them. They were an older couple well past their retirement age, if they wanted, and I couldn't imagine Bri and Alex living in this small three-bedroom home with them.
“Coffee?”
“No. I came to ask you something.”
“Why do I get the feeling this is going to be about something seriouse?”
“Do you know anything about my dad giving Jean Yates money to buy the drugstore?”
I watch closely at his reaction and there is something there. A small glint in his eyes, that proves I caught him by surprise. But it vanishes quickly and I know right then, he isn't going to give me the information I want.
“Your dad wouldn't do that. You and I both know he was a tightwad.”
“So I thought. But I’ve come across some interesting information and I actually believe it to be true.”
“Who told you this?”
“Jean himself. Don't get the feeling he was lying either. You know all of my water shares? Something’s going on with Pepper Ridge and I’ll be damned if I can figure out what in the hell it is. Help me. You must know something.”
My uncle is the opposite of my father. My dad had blond hair, blue eyes, Don has dark hair and brown eyes. They were similar in height but that was about it. My dad was a tight ass, and my uncle is much more generous with his cash. Both had done manual labor all their lives but that's where the similarities ended. My grandparents hadn't trusted Don enough with the entire lot of water shares. They’d only given him a third of what they’d given my father. But the old man didn't have a mean bone in his body and wasn't ashamed to tell you flat out, they’d done the right thing. He would have sold the shares and spent every dime. I suspect as he’s gotten older, he’s gotten to be a little smarter about finances.
“All I know is that I can't help you, Ryan.”
“Fine. I get it. Do you know of any developments in the area that would have to do with A&T?”
“In Lone Star? Hell no. What ever happens here?”
I knew he was lying to my face and I couldn't fucking stand it. I continue to play it calm, hoping there might be something, some small insignificant piece of information he could give up but it never came. The instant I mentioned Jean, he was tight-lipped remaining so until my aunt walked in from the backyard.
“Well, Ryan, back so soon?”
“Ryan stopped by to ask about my brother and his connection with Jean Yates.”
My aunt dropped her water bottle onto the floor, clearly shaken by what Don had said. Fucking knew it! There was something they didn't want me to know. I couldn't stand it any longer.
“Something happened, didn't it, Uncle Don? Tell me what it was. Whatever it is, I deserve to know!”
“Some things are best left in the past, Ryan.”
“You don't think I know that? I do. But someone is after my water rights and I’ll be damned if I'm going to sit back and let them get away with swindling people by making up some bullshit company.”
My pulse thumped in my neck and my knuckles hurt from being clenched together. “Tell me what happened.”
They exchange glances with one another. The glance shared between two people who knew each other long enough to know what that single glance meant. I stand and begin pacing the small kitchen, “Why can't you tell me something? Anything? I'm a grown fucking man!”
“Like I said, there are certain things best left in the past and that's all I’m going to say about it.”
We eye one another for a few more minutes, neither willing to stand down. Something inside me finally snaps and I walk out of the house, not caring about the screen door slamming behind me.
What the fuck was that all about? My parents are gone, so why was it a big deal if I learned anything new about them? I most likely wouldn't like it, but I was a grown ass man. I could fucking deal with it.
I was beside myself. I didn't want to go home. I knew I needed to talk to Yates but I wasn't ready to do that yet either. I made a u-turn in the middle of town and aimlessly headed toward a destination I loved and hated so much. I pulled down the small gravel road, making certain my big truck stayed on the gravel and not the grass as it wound around the many, well-established oak trees.
Finding the headstone that I picked out, I laid down on the cool grass, not caring that my jeans and shirt were soaking up the morning dew. The sun was already promising another eighty-degree day and I thought of all the things I could be doing at the farm instead of lying here.
I rarely sought comfort here. Maybe once or twice when they’d first passed away, I’d come here in the hopes of finding enough guidance to learn how to handle Brianna and Alex. I came here when I’d plain run out of options. I acted so smug last night at Miranda’s claiming I’d found everything I’d been searching for on my fishing expedition. I hadn't. Figured out what I wanted to do about Miranda but the truth is, I knew what I wanted to do about her long before my trip. Long before I’d sat in the street stalking her. I knew it the moment she’d run into my arms at the wedding. The way her sweet body had molded perfectly into mine. How my chest felt like it had been cracked open. The way she shivered and twitched underneath my steady thrusts as I finger-banged her sweet cunt. She was mine that night, for those few moments and the truth, since that night, she’s been mine ever since. I’ve been the fool pushing her away when I knew deep in my heart, all along, that I couldn’t live without her.
A mower rumbling in the distance brought me back to the here and now. I had to get a life. I had to take charge of these water stocks and decide what I wanted to do with this entire situation. I’d let it run my life, obsessing over every detail for the past few weeks with Miranda. So what if we never figured out who High Plains was? As long as I didn't give them my shares, it wouldn't bother me.
“Well Pops and Mom, you didn't disappoint.”
I get in my truck, weaving through the maze of overgrown trees once again and head straight to Thatcher’s Feed Store for some peanuts – I could handle them at this hour. Of course Cap was already there, sitting in my seat, when I walked in. “Look who’s gracing us with his presence.”
“About damned time. It's as if that article conjured him up.”
“What article?”
“Article Bri wrote. Check it out for yourself.”
Cap smashes the paper into my chest. I’d forgotten about her article. I am unbelievably proud of her for completing such a momentous task. This is what a proud parent must feel like. I peruse the pages not finding her seat belt article at first glance.
“Right there,” Cap points.
Confused by the headline, When Hypocrisy is a Redeemable Quality, I begin reading the article. What the hell was this? What happened to the nice article about seat belts saving lives? Instead there is an entire article about me, not by name specifically but everything in here pointed to all of the ways I’d steered her in the right direction. How I’d preached to her about not succumbing to peer pressure and how easy it was to spout words out to other people and nev
er actually follow through on the “words of wisdom often dished out by parents.” What gave parents the right to preach these “virtuous protocols for their children when they themselves were far beyond practicing these own simple acts of life skills?”
I am annoyed, and yet massive amounts of pride fill my chest for this girl. My almost fourteen-year-old sister, who is beyond most of her peers’ level of maturity. The article went on about “the delicate balance of life: what we spoke and what we preached and how it fit into our personal lives. Living for oneself, is by far the most important endeavor.”
She wrote about how important it was to practice what you preach and live the life you wanted. To not succumb to what you thought everyone else wanted, because, and this was my favorite part, “at a young age, we are all encouraged to march to the beat of our own drum. Sometimes adulthood can get in the way of that march, and we must be frequently reminded, sometimes by a younger generation, that our march, our beat, can still be found when the drum played.”
“Pretty smart, isn't she?” Cap asks.
“Damn. Yeah, she’s pretty smart. She’s pretty sneaky too. Told me this article was going to be about seat belts.”
Cap burst into laughter, “She got you good then, man. I assume your girlfriend helped her out with this? Or was it that cute little receptionist? What’s her name Thatch?”
“Abigail Murphy and she’s married, remember?” Thatcher leaned in his seat, an odd expression on his face. There was a time I thought he and Abby might have gotten together but then Adrian got her pregnant and as far as I knew, nothing happened since then because she married Adrian.
“I remember,” Cap gave Thatcher an all-knowing look and I realized I was missing out on something but then remembered what Cap said about Miranda being my girlfriend.
I open my mouth to say she isn’t my girlfriend but no sound comes out. Did Miranda put Bri up to this? I didn't want it to be true, but it made perfect sense. Miranda saw right through me when it came to this and miraculously it had found its way into the weekly paper? Was this Miranda trying to help me see the light? Had she swayed Brianna from writing the perfectly good article about seat belts to this in the hopes I would…what? Sell the farm? Be with Miranda? Become an accountant? I couldn't be sure of her agenda but I didn't appreciate her involving Brianna in her little scheme to get me to change my life around.
Wet: A Small Town Romance (Love in Lone Star Book 1) Page 15
