“Not for that,” she scoffs, pulling back repulsed. Her eyes leap to my prosthetic. I should be offended, but I’m not. It’s a force of nature to stare. My skin is pretty thick. “It’s about my mother.”
My head swings back to Hannah, and Hank lowers his elbows to the bar.
“Eavesdropping much?” Hannah asks him in a snappy tone, which surprises me as he is her boss.
“Damn stubborn,” Hank mutters, pressing off the wooden counter and stepping a few paces away. With his back to us, pretending he’s busy with his computer cash register, I return my attention to Hannah.
“I’m listening.” I’m more than listening. I’m twitching with anticipation.
“Can we meet somewhere? Too many ears here.” Hannah inclines her head toward Hank. “How about Daisy’s Nut House?”
A half hour later, I’m sitting across from Hannah in the Valley’s famous donut shop. It’s more of a diner, but its claim to fame is these delicious donuts which I’ve eaten one too many of in the past week. Daisy Payton, the owner, hasn’t recognized me. Too many years have passed since I’ve last been in Green Valley, and I’ve changed quite a bit—most noticeably, my arm. Still, she’s friendly with a smile and a polite word.
“Let me know if you need anything.” Looking like Michelle Obama, and dressed nearly as professional, she’s not working the tables as a waitress but present as the business owner.
She recognizes Hannah and asks about her mother.
“Momma’s the same as always. Taking it day by day.”
Daisy nods in sympathy. While I wait for Hannah’s attention, I take a bite of the pumpkin spiced delight before me.
“You tell your momma I’m thinking of her,” Daisy says, closing out their conversation.
“Always,” Hannah says, smiling sweetly at the diner owner. As Daisy walks away, I notice a group of men in leather vests and bandana skullcaps off in the corner. The Iron Wraiths, perhaps. Is this who Hank was referencing? Too often, veterans like me are sucked into groups like them, looking for solidarity and brotherhood, filled with disappointment after returning Stateside. I have nothing against finding your people, but the looks of some of these men concern me.
“Momma mentioned you tried to proposition her,” Hannah starts, drawing my attention back to her.
“I did not—”
“She didn’t tell me all the particulars, so I’d like to hear what you have to offer.”
My head tilts in question. The cautious look in Hannah’s eyes is similar to her mother’s, and she glances down at the table to avoid meeting my gaze.
“Does your momma know you’re talking to me?”
“I’m my own person, Mr. Flemming. I’d like to know what your interest is in our land.”
“I’m told it’s not for sale.”
“Momma mentioned you didn’t want to buy it.” Her brows lift, surprised and concerned.
“Interesting. What else did she tell you?”
“You had a proposal. Our land for the use of raising horses. You’d build a room in the barn and do repairs around our place.” Hannah pauses before adding, “And Momma tells me everything. We don’t keep secrets.” There’s more to what she’s saying, but I don’t question it.
“I’m interested in negotiating a percentage of the profits, once I have the horses and begin breeding. I have a silent partner who is fronting some of the money I’ll need for supplies. Lumber. Feed. Equipment.” My investor friend wishes to remain anonymous for his own reasons, but we mapped out a detailed business plan. He wants me to breed horses. Rodeo horses, specifically. It’s going to cost a pretty penny, but in one year, the return on investment could be huge. It’s not that I need the finances—I’m set through military disability and award winnings over the years—but I want this new adventure. A nomad by nature, I’ve been itching for stability in the past year. I need a purpose.
“I can offer you ten percent for the use of your land.”
“Ten percent?” Hannah’s voice squeaks again. “No deal.” She shifts on the booth seat and reaches for her purse, telling me with her body language that she’s finished with this conversation.
“Look, I just want to raise horses,” I say, my voice coming out desperate, which is how I feel. I’m this close to getting what I’ve always wanted, so if I let this girl slip out of the booth, it could be the end for me.
“Why?”
How do I explain to her how I grew up around these creatures and always felt an affinity for them? How do I explain that a special ops program with horses kept me in the military when I didn’t think there was any reason to come home? How do I tell her all the ways horses have saved my life after my injury?
“I’d be good at this,” I begin, taking a deep breath. “Ever want to do something just because you know you’d be good at it?”
Hannah lowers her head, and I wonder what she’s thinking. Is she good at stripping? Is that why she does it? Does she get some kind of personal fulfillment out of it? Or is there something else she knows she could do, be better at, but just hasn’t gotten the chance?
“Who’s the investor?” Distrustful eyes eventually meet mine.
“I’m not at liberty to say.” The deal moved rather quickly from the first proposition. Most of my partner’s business is a mystery, and it baffles me, but it’s his life.
“Hank?” Hannah questions. Is he the local investor? This is the second time his name has been thrown out as a financier type. When I don’t immediately reply, she states again, “No deal.” Her purse makes it to her shoulder, and her legs swing out of the booth.
“Listen.” I reach for her wrist to stop her. Her eyes narrow in on the possessive touch, and I remove my fingers. “I’ll swear on the graves of honorable men that this deal is solid and doesn’t involve Hank.” What’s her hang-up with him anyway? “I wouldn’t be risking myself for something I didn’t believe in, and I’m very committed to this venture. I know you don’t know me, so I’m asking for blind faith here. I can even offer a contract. Look, your land needs me as much as I need it.” I pause and glance toward the darkened window along our booth. “Have you ever been down on your luck?”
Hannah meets my gaze in the reflection of the late-night window, questioning if I’m earnest in my asking. After a second of silence, she answers me. “I wouldn’t be stripping if I wasn’t short on it. There’s nothing wrong with the job, though. It pays good money.”
“Sometimes we gotta do what we gotta do,” I state. It’s a philosophy I believe in, so much so I’ve lived my life accordingly, but lately, my luck has run a little dry. “When opportunity knocks, we can’t ignore the door.”
“Unless that opportunity is a wolf in sheep’s clothing.” Hannah’s shrewd comment turns both our heads so we face one another again.
“I’ll give you fifteen percent. I’m guessing those fields haven’t yielded anything in a few years.” The upkeep necessary for the number of acres the Townsens own hasn’t been done. This offer comes out of my portion as I have no leeway with my partner’s commitment.
“Twenty-five. And I couldn’t work the land and take care of Momma,” she counteroffers with the additional explanation. “We couldn’t afford to pay someone either.”
“What happened to your mom? Where’s Howard?” Howard always was a loser. I don’t know why I asked for him upon crossing his porch. Maybe force of habit. Maybe reenacting the past.
I’ll kick your ass, you fucking pansy, for breaking her heart.
“Someone hasn’t already told you?” Bright eyes widen at me, and she gives me only half a second to reply before continuing. “If we knew where he was, we might not be in this predicament. Momma could use her legs, and I’d be…”
“Free?” I suggest, tipping up a brow.
“Don’t make assumptions, Mr. Flemming.” She hitches her bag on her shoulder, but I’m not letting her leave without giving this offer a good effort.
“Fifteen,” I interject. “It’s all I can spare. I’
ll need to build a stable and a training ring, but you have a lot of land. It’s double what I remember. We can even plant a portion if you’d like, but I’ll need some of the space for grazing.”
“We used to yield hay and raise chickens.” That explains the large barn and a low building off to the side, empty and dirty from years of disuse, but it doesn’t explain how the Townsen homestead is twice the size with no return on investment. “We’ve only produced a few tomatoes the past few years for the local farmers’ market…” Hannah’s voice drifts off again, and I imagine anything they grew wasn’t enough to support them, thus leading to Hannah’s employment at the Pink Pony.
“How long has your mother been in those braces?”
“I’m not discussing my mother’s condition with you. It was an accident,” Hannah states before clamping her lips as if she’s already offered too much. It’s one of those moments when I wonder if she’s trying more to convince herself or me.
“I imagine things have been tough.”
Hannah narrows those sharp eyes at me as if I’ve stated the obvious. “Assumptions again, Mr. Flemming,” Hannah warns. I suppose she knows a thing or two about being judged, as do I.
“Help me understand then.”
Her lips pinch, and her head slowly twists from side to side. Hank warned me. Hannah’s sort of the martyr type. A stripper with a heart of gold.
“Actually, you’d be helping me.” I wiggle my prosthetic arm, taking a new approach with this girl. “I need this. I need the work.” I need that land.
“Fifteen,” Hannah reiterates, failing at the art of negotiation. She should have countered with twenty which is the highest I could risk. “I don’t know what that means, but I intend to investigate horse breeding.” She definitively nods with her threat, but I smile.
“You seem like a smart girl, Hannah, so I’d expect nothing less.”
My compliment startles her, and her face pinkens before she finally escapes from the booth. Standing tall next to the table, she looks down in my direction but not directly at me.
“I’ll get Momma to agree.”
Chapter Five
[Jedd]
The next day, I pay an overdue visit to my sister. We’ve become a bit estranged over the years. After all that happened, she felt it best to walk away from the family and head off to college in Nashville. I didn’t blame her, but the slow unravelling of our sibling thread stung. I suppose I’d done the same thing, though, when Hasting cut me out, and I went off to the military.
Janice always was the smarter of the two of us, and Momma wanted her daughter to have a career before a family. Unfortunately for Janice, her career ruined her aspirations for a family. She divorced after only a few years, rising to the top as a fierce divorce attorney. Eventually, she went into property law and contracts, and gave up the large office overlooking the Tennessee River in Knoxville to open an office in Merryville, just outside Green Valley. Julius & Caesar was founded with an eclectic mix of family law and real estate contracts. Her partner, Ramirez Caesar, had been her divorce attorney.
“You need a lawyer for injury?” A male voice with a heavy Hispanic accent addresses me as I enter Janice’s office. The room is small with only one chair and an oversized desk. With thick black hair and deep-set eyes, he looks like a doe in headlights, but something tells me there’s more to this man as he scrubs a hand down his tie.
“Nah, it was a long time ago, and I don’t suppose suing the United States military for my stupidity would work.”
He stands upright, slants his hand for his forehead, and addresses me with a salute. “A soldier. Thank you for your service, sir.” He holds the position, stiff and salutary, but I can’t get a read on him. Is he mocking me?
“Quit saluting him.” The smoky sound of my sister’s voice turns my head, and I notice her standing in the hallway entry. She looks so much like our momma, and my breath catches for a moment. Ebony hair pulled back in a loose twist. Bright blue eyes behind thick horn-rimmed eyeglasses. Bright red lips that purse as she addresses the man behind the desk. “Where’s Sandy?”
The man drops his hand from his salute and shakes his head. Janice sighs.
“Not another one,” she mutters.
“What can I say?” His accent falters, lessening a bit.
“What you can say is I’ll keep it in my pants. That’s the sixth assistant in as many months.”
“It’s only been three in eight months,” he corrects.
“Ram,” she groans, and I realize the man acting as desk clerk is really her partner.
“Jan,” he whines and then winks at me. “Office romance.”
“Office nightmare. You know you’re one secretary away from a lawsuit for sexual harassment.”
“Who’s harassing? She was using all this.” Waving his hand, he gestures down his body. His accent is completely removed, and his voice thickens. He’s certainly confident and a bit conceited. Must serve him well in a courtroom.
Janice snorts. “I doubt it.” Breaking eye contact with her partner, she turns to me and nods for me to follow her. Without a word of greeting, I do.
We enter her office, which holds more oversized furniture but is clear of any clutter minus a computer and a file cabinet.
“Jedd.” She states my name, motioning to a chair across from her as she takes the seat behind her desk. It’s too formal for a sibling reunion, and I don’t like it.
“Janice,” I mock as she scoots her rolling desk chair forward.
“It took you long enough to come see me. What’s it been, almost three months?” Her calculations might not be wrong, but her snippy tone sets me off.
“I’d have been here sooner had I known things were this bad for Boone.”
Janice sighs and removes her glasses, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Really, Jedd? You would have given it all up and returned here to save him?”
“I sent him money,” I remind her, disheartened that she would question my sibling loyalty. I did what I could for him.
“Money is not what he needed.”
“I didn’t know that.” On the rare times I’d spoken with my younger brother, he hadn’t mentioned the urgency of his issues. With my momma and Hasting dead, Boone was alone in the house, but Janice checked on him. He never told me he was in trouble, though I knew he still played cards. His father’s secret weapon in a game. He never inherited the land, after all. Hasting placed the wrong bet—putting his chips on his son—and then throwing down the deed to the farmstead, thinking he couldn’t lose.
He lost.
“He has issues,” Janice snaps. For years, she’s wanted to move my brother to an independent living facility, one where he would be among others needing support and supervision. Janice couldn’t take him in because Boone refused to go with her. Considered high functioning, we’d allowed him to remain in the house as long as he stayed in the Valley. But now, he was gone.
“Why now?” Janice asks. “Why did you come home now?”
“Because you called me. Telling me Boone was missing.”
Her eyes narrow. “What do you really want?” The question doesn’t startle me.
“I want the land back.”
“It’s tied up. I’ve told you that.” My sister could be disbarred for what I know but shouldn’t.
“I’m working something out. I’ve made a deal.”
Janice huffs as she falls back in her chair. “Just like Hasting. A deal. A bargain. A scheme.” Her voice rises. “I wonder where Boone got the idea to gamble.”
“I recall you once appreciated my deals.” I’d failed to protect my sister a hundred times until it all fell apart, and she’d allowed me one final confrontation.
Stay away from my sister. The threat had been idle. The man’s fate had already been sealed.
Janice had wised up because of her heartbreak. She’d returned to college in Nashville, changed her major to law, and here she sits.
Her head tilts to the side, dismissing what I’ve
said. “It was all so long ago.”
We sit in silence only a second before I say, “Tell me what you can about Boone.”
“He refused to move and was often absent when I tried to visit, but this time was different. I just knew he was gone. Things haven’t been good. The house is in squalor. His conditions rustic. When I finally called you, he wasn’t there, and the evidence proves he hadn’t been.”
“What evidence?”
“Empty cabinets. No dirty dishes. Nothing really out of place. Well, as best you can tell with the mess.”
I didn’t need to ask about horses. They’d been sold to pay off debts. The land lacked tending. The current owner must have covered the taxes, but the property just sat there. No one tried to evict Boone, which hadn’t make sense until I returned to Green Valley. Still, there was one piece of the puzzle missing.
“Why didn’t he call me?” I question of my older sister.
“Would you have answered?” She knows I always returned calls when I could. Eventually. The past year had been…difficult.
“I’m here now.” I state the obvious because I can’t change the past. If I could, I’d do so many things differently. Fought Hasting for the farm. Taken care of Boone. Not reached for an electrical wire.
“Finally lose a competition?”
When I finished with the Army, discharge due to injury, I was lost until I’d heard of Professional Armed Forces Rodeo Association, or PAFRA. I found a sponsor and entered every competition I could. The one-armed warrior rides a bucking bronco. Though it was quite a spectacle, it was a profitable one that resulted in a celebrity status of sorts. The notoriety of both a warrior and a cowboy was heady. Only, years of banging random woman and bucking on the back of a bronco had taken their toll. I was looking for an excuse to settle down, but I just hadn’t found the right place to settle.
Then Boone disappeared, and an idea sprang to life.
“I never lose,” I tease my older sibling. She should remember well the competitive spirit we each had, racing horses over our land, chasing each other on tractors, or fighting over chicken legs at the supper table. Our momma had been a good cook. Janice’s drive to be the best makes her a good lawyer. My ambition kept me away too long.
Love in Deed: A Silver Fox Small Town Romance (Green Valley Library Book 6) Page 5
