“Joshie’s still grievin’ over losing his best friend, his half-brother,” Hatch said. “I don’t understand the kind of hard heart that would send a little fella away like that, and him only twelve years old. It liked to break both their hearts being parted. I’m just afraid Timmy’ll come back yankified and high falutin’ and won’t have no time for his old friend, Joshie.”
“That’ll never happen,” Melissa said. “Why’d Ava send him away?”
“I don’t know the whole story, only what Joshie will tell me, and those two were so tight you couldn’t get a blade of grass between ’em. He said Timmy found out something his mama was doing she shouldn’t have been, and she done sent him away on account of that.”
“That’s a shame,” Melissa said. “I guess he doesn’t know what it was she was doing.”
“Something to do with a man, near as I can tell,” Hatch said. “And it weren’t her rich husband, neither.”
Melissa left the service station determined to find out more about the tiny houses. If it turned out she had to make a future for herself without Patrick, and if she bought the trailer park, she would have to find a way to make it produce a profit. The rent that was currently being charged would barely pay for the upkeep, but Melissa didn’t want to raise it on people she knew couldn’t afford it. If she could sell little houses and rent out spaces for them to be parked, she might just make some actual profit from her investment. Even if her plans changed later, it wouldn’t hurt to look into it now.
Melissa called Dee Goldman, who said she would have to radio over to Johnny and see if he was in the mood to see anybody.
“He’s a nice man,” Dee reassured her. “He’s just picky about who comes out there, and he needs to know you’re coming. I’ll call you back here in a minute, once I talk to him.”
Sure enough, a few minutes later Dee called back to say Johnny would be willing to meet with Melissa to talk about the little houses he builds.
“If you wanna get on his good side right off,” Dee said, “bring him some lemon-lime soda pop and some Mister Bee potato chips. He loves those chips.”
Melissa went to the IGA, bought a 24-pack of canned lemon-lime soda and several bags of Mister Bee chips, one giant bag in every flavor.
As Melissa drove out Pine Mountain Road toward the turn off that would lead to Pumpkin Ridge Road, she kept having the weirdest feeling that she was being followed. At the top of one hill, at a wide place on the berm, just out of a sharp curve, she pulled over, and within ten seconds a white SUV passed her. She couldn’t see who was driving it, but it spooked her, so she took a detour on Rabbit Run Road, and then used an even less-traveled road known as Pig Snout Hollow to get to the Goldman’s.
A Mustang was not built to travel Pig Snout Hollow, and as she drove across a shallow creek, and winced as the undercarriage scraped over rocks, she wondered if she had made the best decision. She made it to the other side, and eventually, to the Goldman’s farm.
The Goldmans ran an organic farm and dairy, and the metal buildings that housed their projects were scattered over several hundred acres of high-valley flatland. Sheep and cows grazed in the sunshine, and a huge flock of chickens was pecking and clucking in what looked like a giant pen on wheels, the roof covered with chicken wire to keep out hawks, foxes, and raccoons.
Dee came out to meet her, their giant, sad-looking hound dog accompanying her.
“Look at your car,” Dee said. “How’d you come?”
“I took the scenic route,” Melissa said.
“We’ll take the ATV,” Dee said. “Johnny’s driveway is more creek than the road, and I don’t want to get your fancy car stuck.”
Dee’s ATV was like a golf cart on steroids, with a camouflage-printed bonnet, a heater, and jacked up rubber tires spread wide apart, with deep treads like a tractor. Melissa loaded the bags of chips and soda into the back, while Dee instructed her dog to “stay home and guard the house.”
“Will he mind you?” Melissa asked.
“Oh, yes,” Dee said. “The last time he took off on his own he treed a bear, and it liked to scare him to bits, so he stays close to home. He won’t mind Levi, but he’ll mind me.”
True to her word, the big dog, a tall redbone coonhound, trotted over to the porch and lay down like a sphinx, eyes scanning a 180-degree area.
By the time they reached the hollow that housed Johnny Johnson’s farm, having bumped over what seemed like little more than a rutted deer track, Melissa felt like her internal organs had all been jolted loose, along with several tooth fillings.
The farm consisted of a tiny log cabin, maybe 600 square feet in all, and a large barn that had a concrete driveway leading up to one end and out the other. Just like Hatch had told her, the southeastern-facing roof of the barn was covered in solar panels, and he also had erected a tall windmill in a clearing at the top of the ridge. Unlike many other backwoods farms Melissa had seen, this one was neat as a pin; every foot of the fence was in good repair, there was a garden spot surrounded by tall, deer-proof fencing, and the grass had been neatly mowed. There were no parts of old cars piled up all over, no trash strewn throughout the yard. Melissa was impressed.
They could hear the whine of power tools in the barn, so they headed in that direction. A tall, broad-shouldered man with a long beard was hoisting up one end of a roof beam on a small, stick-built house frame while a skinny, tattoo-covered young man braced it with a two-by-eight. Dee put her finger to her lips, which Melissa interpreted as not wanting to surprise them while they performed such a dangerous, delicate operation.
Melissa looked around, further impressed with the neat organization of tools and supplies. There were three tiny houses in the barn, all atop flatbed metal trailers. The furthest one, closest to the opposite entrance, seemed finished; the middle one was half-finished; and this third one, the nearest one, just begun.
Once the roof beam was secured, Johnny climbed down the ladder, and they took away the two-by-eight brace. He turned and looked at the two women, his eyes met Melissa’s, and she felt a jolt of energy. He seemed so familiar to her. He walked toward them, never taking his eyes off Melissa’s.
“We didn’t want to scare you,” Dee said. “Johnny, this is Melissa Wright, the woman I told you about, who is interested in buying a tiny house.”
Johnny was over six-feet tall, with broad shoulders, thick, muscular arms and thighs. His broad chest tapered to a flat stomach, and the effect all this had on Melissa was curious and disquieting. Melissa had never been attracted to any man the way she was to Patrick, and yet here was someone she had just met, who hadn’t even said a word to her, and she could feel the heat of attraction spread throughout her body, so intense it made her blush, made her eyes water.
“It’s a pleasure,” he said and held out his hand.
Melissa put her small hand in his catcher's-mitt-size paw, and he gently but firmly shook it. At the contact of skin to skin, there was an instant shock, like a pop of electricity.
“Sorry about that,” he said.
“There must be a lot of static in here,” Dee said.
“Or something,” Johnny said.
He smiled then, and it transformed his face from stern to mischievous. His light blue-green eyes, like sea glass, twinkled with good humor, and something else, something that seemed as if it had surprised him, too. It was mesmerizing.
Melissa couldn’t seem to say anything. There was an awkward silence while she attempted to process the effect he was having on her. He took off his ball cap and ran a hand through his curly light brown hair, and then put the hat back on.
“You ladies will have to forgive me,” he said. “I didn’t have time to clean up before you arrived.”
“Oh, you’re always busy, we know that,” Dee said. “Look at these houses, Melissa; aren’t they cute?”
“Cute is a word often used by the women who admire my work,” Johnny said. “I prefer the term efficiently-sized.”
Again that mischiev
ous grin framed by a fluffy mustache and beard.
Melissa tore her eyes away and looked at the furthermost house.
“It’s beautiful,” Melissa said.
“Allow me to show you around,” he said. “My illustrious assistant, Mister Barlow Owsley, seems to have disappeared. He’s a shy fellow, so we’ll allow him his privacy. Right this way, ladies.”
He led them to circle the finished house, with its board and batten siding, corrugated metal roof, and tiny metal chimney. He placed a stepladder beneath the entrance, a round-top wooden door with a round porthole and decorative iron hinges.
He climbed up inside and then offered his hand to each of them in turn. This time when he took Melissa’s hand in his, she thought she was prepared for the jolt. She wasn’t. She happened to catch his eye as she passed him to enter the house; she had to tilt her head way back on account of the difference in their heights.
He raised his eyebrows, made a surprised expression with his mouth, and then said quietly, so only she could hear, “That’s twice, my dear. Once could be considered an accident, but twice …”
Melissa shivered with a combination of fear and pleasure. It was disconcerting, to say the least.
He showed them around the small home. There were two sleeping lofts, one on either end, with the kitchen and bathroom tucked underneath, and a sitting area in the middle heated by a small propane stove.
“I like to have a wider separation of the kitchen and bathroom than most plans feature,” he said to Dee.
“More hygienic,” Dee said.
“Exactly,” he said.
“I love this,” Melissa said. “It’s perfect.”
“Too small for me,” Dee said. “I’ve been married for a long time, and I can tell you, married people need separate bathrooms.”
“My buyers backed out,” Johnny said. “So it won’t matter to them.”
“I hope they paid a deposit,” Dee said.
“I returned it,” Johnny said with a shrug. “Someone will want it, and it doesn’t seem right to punish young people just because their circumstances change. The young man wanted this small cottage in which to house his blushing bride, but his bride decided she’d rather blush in the large condo purchased by her doting parents.”
“Happy wife, happy life,” Dee said.
“My sentiments exactly, although I can’t speak from personal experience,” Johnny said. “Would you be interested in something like this, Melissa?”
As he said this, he reached up to rest his hands on the wood support of the sleeping loft, and leaned forward, which made his offer seem to apply to all that was on view. Melissa looked all around the small house, and then from his feet up to his eyes, considering.
He smiled at her, and it was evident to her precisely what he meant, but she wasn’t about to make it easy for him.
“Where’s the clothes closet?” she asked.
Johnny brought his hands back down and opened a narrow cupboard just outside the bathroom.
“If it was for me,” Melissa said. “I’d need more room for clothes and shoes.”
“And would your significant other like it?” Johnny asked.
“She’s recently broken up,” Dee said. “She only has to please herself now.”
Melissa rolled her eyes, so only Johnny saw.
“That’s a shame,” he murmured. “So only the closet? Anything else?”
Melissa walked past him to examine the bathroom, which was fitted with smaller versions of a sink, commode, and shower. She stood in the shower and turned around. Johnny was standing in the doorway, and he lifted his hand to cover his eyes.
“I’ll get you a towel,” he said.
Melissa couldn’t help it, she laughed.
He dropped his hand and held it out to her, steadying her as she stepped out of the shower. Again there was that spark, but this time he just raised his eyebrows.
“I need somewhere to put all my makeup,” she said. “I’ve got a lot of hair products, too.”
“I can fix that,” he said.
They talked about modifications that could be made, and he had some good ideas.
They went to the kitchen end, and Melissa examined the compact, four-burner propane range.
“I could bake in this,” she said. “That’s amazing.”
“You cook, too,” he said. “It just gets better and better.”
Johnny demonstrated all the places he had tucked in storage. He hadn’t let a square inch go to waste.
“How many of these have you sold?” Dee asked him.
“Nine this year,” he said. “I had to take a month off when I broke my finger.”
He held up a crooked finger, and Melissa was impressed by its size.
“How’d that happen?” she asked him.
“Got it caught between the trailer hitch and the buyer’s truck,” he said. “I said ‘back it up slow,’ and he thought I said, ‘let’s go.’ ”
He helped them down the stairs, and when their skin contact produced yet another small shock, he murmured, “That’s four.”
He followed them outside, and Dee said, “It’s getting onto evening, so we better get a move on.”
“What do you think?” Johnny asked. “Are you interested?”
“I’d like to buy this one,” she said. “I could use it as a model to sell more for you if you’d like.”
“I’ll make the modifications, and you can come back out to look at it,” he said. “I’ll have Dee call you when it’s ready.”
“How do you get them out of here?” Melissa said, gesturing to the thick forest all around.
“Chopper,” he said with a smile. “It’s a mighty peculiar thing to see.”
He pointed at something Melissa had overlooked earlier. Now that he had pointed it out, she was amazed she’d missed it. Just beyond the garden plot, sitting on a concrete pad, covered in camouflage netting, was a helicopter.
“I have my own,” he said.
“That’s amazing,” she said. “Is that what you did in the service?”
“Among other things,” he said.
They walked together over to the ATV, and Melissa remembered her delivery.
“I brought you some chips and soda pop,” she said.
“Good Lord, woman, your blessings are abundant,” Johnny said. “You didn’t have to do that, but I’m mighty obliged to you; what do I owe you?”
“We’ll consider it a deposit on the house,” Melissa said.
“That we’ll do,” he said. “You all be careful on your way back. If you get stuck, send up a flare.”
Just then an enormous black bird came swooping down out of the trees and landed on Johnny’s shoulder. Melissa jumped back in surprise.
“This is Edgar Allan Crow,” Johnny said. “He won’t harm you.”
The raven nuzzled Johnny’s cheek and nibbled at his ear.
“Johnny found him fallen out of the nest,” Dee said. “He raised him from a chick.”
“He’s a rascal,” Johnny said. “He’ll steal anything shiny, so I often have screws and nails go missing. The upside is he brings me presents; or stolen goods, if you want to look at it that way.”
Johnny didn’t shake hands with her before they left and Melissa was relieved. She felt like she had run a mile, like she had climbed a mountain. She needed a beer, she needed a cigarette; she needed … something.
“He’s a good man,” Dee told her on the way back. “He had the depression something awful when he first came back, but living out here has made a world of difference. He sure took a shine to you.”
“He’s an excellent builder,” Melissa said. “I should be able to sell several of those for him.”
“I know you just broke up with Patrick,” Dee said, “but you should keep Johnny in mind. He’s a real good man, and he’d treat you like gold.”
“I’m not clear broke up, yet,” Melissa said. “I’m not looking for anybody else.”
“What’s keeping you hanging on?�
��
“I’ve lived with Patrick for three years,” Melissa said. “We were friends for a long time before that. It seems a shame to throw it all away.”
“That’s a sunk-cost fallacy,” Dee said.
“What does that mean?” Melissa asked.
“It means you’ve invested a lot in this relationship, and you don’t want to believe your time and emotional energy were wasted, so instead of cutting your losses you sign on for more heartbreak.”
“That makes me sound pretty stupid.”
“Not stupid, honey, just human,” Dee said. “My husband is a farmer because he loves to be, and an accountant because he has to be. He sees this happen all the time. People plow money into a business venture, put their heart and soul into it, and even though it’s obviously failing, they continue to throw more money down the well rather than cut their losses and move one.”
“All my investment in Patrick is from my heart,” Melissa said.
“Same principle,” Dee said. “You need to get out while you still have some heart left to break.”
“Why do people cheat?” Melissa asked.
“Not all people cheat,” Dee said. “I don’t. My husband doesn’t, and I know that for a fact. I know plenty of others that do, and I don’t understand it any more than you do. I wouldn’t stay married to a man that did, I know that for sure.”
“Even if it meant losing the farm and everything you’ve worked so hard for?”
“Sunk-cost fallacy strikes again,” Dee said. “When we make decisions, we tend to give more weight to what we might lose than what we might gain.”
“But wouldn’t you miss Levi?”
“Of course I would, honey,” she said. “It would break my heart to leave my husband, but I could never trust him after something like that, and I’d rather be lonely than married to someone I couldn’t trust.”
“I don’t know,” Melissa said. “I’ve been in love with Patrick for so long I can’t imagine myself any other way.”
“Give yourself some time,” Dee said. “If he’s worth the wait, he’ll be around when you come to a decision.”
Pumpkin Ridge (Rose Hill Mystery Series Book 10) Page 10
