I stared over the green hood of the newer John Deere tractor. I glared at the man with the cowboy hat pulled low over his eyes. It was a prop. He wore it like it was part of a uniform. I wanted to pull the damn thing down over his ears and then choke him with it.
“I’m going to say this one more time,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “You cannot just drive the tractor around the field. You need to make circles or do rows if that’s what floats your boat. This meandering about isn’t going to cut it.”
“Alexandria—”
“Stop. I’ve told you about twenty-eight times to call me Alex.”
“But you’re a girl,” he insisted.
I grabbed my ample breasts and fluffed them. “Yes, yes I am. I suppose that’s why I’ve got tits. My name is Alex.”
He sighed, pushing the hat up. “Alex, I made straight lines.”
I rolled my eyes. “No, you didn’t.”
The guy was nice enough, but in the words of my granddaddy, I didn’t think his elevator went all the way to the top floor. Oliver had hired the man to act as his manager or foreman over the farm’s operations. I didn’t know who he owed a favor to, but hiring Deke was too big a favor for anyone. Deke was not foreman material. He’d probably be okay as a hand, but he was never going to be able to run the farm.
I was the one that was going to have to break that to Oliver.
“I’ll do better next time,” he promised.
“Deke, you can’t keep plowing the same field. At some point, it has to get planted.”
“But it’s all just dirt,” he insisted.
I smiled. He was a simple man. “All right, let’s not worry about the field. What’s done is done. Let’s talk about that feed order.”
“I did good, right? I ordered plenty to last all month.”
I prayed for patience. “Deke, you ordered enough to last six months.”
He grinned. “Oh, good.”
I slowly shook my head. “No, not good. Part of running the farm means you need to pay attention to the expenses. Buying six months’ worth of feed is not wise. Mice and raccoons and god knows what else are going to get into it before the horses will ever eat it.”
He looked confused. “Oh. Well, can’t we just shoo the vermin away?”
If only that were possible. “I see Oliver pulling up. I need to talk with him. Can you take care of filling up those troughs?”
He nodded, the same goofy smile on his face. “I sure can, Alexandria.”
I ignored the Alexandria part and walked across the wide dirt parking area in front of the barn. The old house was the typical ranch home. It was white, two-story, with a covered porch that wrapped around three sides. The house had been modestly updated but nothing extravagant. The first time I had met with Oliver, I knew I wanted to work for him. He was the real deal. He was a salt of the earth kind of man.
My work as a fixer had allowed me to meet a lot of people. Some I liked, some I didn’t. Oliver, I liked. He got out of his old Ford pickup and waved. He was moving slower than he had a month ago.
“You’re back,” I called.
He smiled. “I can’t be away from this place for long.”
He opened the front door and gestured for me to go inside. Another one of the many traits I liked about him was that he was a perfect gentleman. “I’ll get you some tea,” I told him.
He chuckled. “You’re the guest. Aren’t I supposed to be getting you the tea?”
“I’m not a guest. You pay me, which means I am your employee.”
He took a seat at the old, scarred, wood dining table. I poured two glasses of iced tea from the pitcher and carried them to the table. Oliver was staring out the window, watching Deke fumble around.
“How’s he doing?” he asked.
I laughed. “Oliver, you and I both know that kid is not cut out to be a farm manager. I’m not sure what he’s cut out for, but this isn’t it.”
We both watched as he picked up a feed bucket and pulled it on over his head, laughing at himself. He ambled out to the pasture, presumably to fill the water trough like I had asked. One could never be sure with him.
“I suppose he isn’t. I told his daddy I’d give him a shot, but this just isn’t going to work.”
I slowly shook my head. “No, it isn’t. Do you want me to do some checking around town?”
He looked lost in thought. “No, I’ll take care of it.”
“How was your flight?” I asked him, noticing he looked tired. He looked wiped out really.
He sighed. “I hate flying.”
I laughed. “I don’t know a lot of people that actually enjoy it.”
“It isn’t natural,” he complained.
I watched as he sipped his tea, still staring out the window. I turned to look out the window as well. I didn’t see Deke. There was nothing but the sprawling pasture that stretched on as far as the eyes could see. The flat land looked like it reached all the way to Square Butte, but it was a trick of the eye. Oliver’s farm wasn’t quite that expansive.
“I’ve talked with Deke and we’ll get that alfalfa planted within the next couple of days.”
“How’s the wheat?” he asked.
I smiled. “Beautiful. It will be ready to harvest next week as scheduled. The crop looks great. I don’t think you’ll have any problems with selling it for top dollar.”
“You’ve got those hands coming in to take care of the harvest?”
I nodded. “I do. I’ll be overseeing the process.”
“If time allows, I’ll be able to run the combine,” he said, sounding almost defeated.
“That would be great,” I told him, thinking of the time that could be saved with an experienced man like himself running the harvester.
He sighed, pulling his gaze from the window and turning the steely-blue eyes on me. “There was a time I would do this all myself with the help of one or two guys.”
AlexI laughed. “Your farm is huge, and it has got to be one of the hardest I’ve worked. You have a lot going on.”“It used to be a lot more than what it is. I sold off the north hundred acres or so about ten years ago. I realized I didn’t need so much. A buddy’s grandson was looking to start in the farming business. I figured I’d give him a hand and let him buy that land from me for a real steal. I hear he’s built himself a small house on the land.”“That was nice of you,” I told him. “Most farmers I’ve met hold on to their land until their last dying breath.”He smirked. “I suppose we do, but the two-hundred acres I have is plenty. I’m an old man. I don’t need to make a killing in the wheat business.”“I wish others could be as easygoing as you are. Hell, I wish I could be that easygoing.”He chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “It’s taken me seventy-two years to get to this point. A man realizes somewhere along the way that life is too short to be uptight. We’re all here f
DamionI walked into the school, smiled at the receptionist, and joined the other parents there to pick up kids. I waited until Oliver’s teacher had a free moment and approached her. I liked to check in with her at least once a week if time allowed.“Hello,” I greeted.“Ah, Mr. Whittle,” she said with a smile.“Damion, please,” I insisted. “How’s he doing?” It was the same question I asked every time I saw her.The start to my five-year-old’s school career had been rocky. I was assured kindergarten was hard on a lot of kids. It was a big change, and some struggled a bit more than others. My son wasn’t struggling with the learning but with being in a new environment with kids he didn’t know.“He is a bright young man and a pleasure to have in class,” she answered.“But?” I asked, knowing there was something she wasn’t saying.She smiled. “He’s had a difficult week. The class has been doing group projects, and Oliver is so far advanced, he either does all the work or doesn’t do any of i
DamionI had grown up on a farm. I had a tan that started in spring and carried over until late fall from all my time outside. I had worked hard on the farm, helping feed the horses and chickens. When I had gotten older, I used to ride alongside my grandpa in the front seat of his old beat-up truck to fix fences. The fences always needed fixing, it seemed.“I want to go to the museum,” he answered after carefully thinking it over.“Sounds like a plan. We’ll do the museum, have lunch, and then go to the park for some playtime.”“Okay,” he said, turning to look back out the window.I drove to our apartment, tucked the car into the cramped parking area, and headed inside. We lived in a nice building with a doorman. I felt relatively safe on the eighth floor. Our two-bedroom was modest, but a lot bigger than most.“I’m going to get dinner started. You can watch TV for a bit if you’d like.”“I’m going to play on my iPad,” he answered.I put his backpack next to the door and went into the s
AlexI stared out the window of the hospital room. It was a dreary spring day, which was common, but I suspected the rain was God weeping. Not really. The weather suited the mood. I was trying to keep my emotions in check. I refused to show weakness. I hated showing weakness.“You’re still here?” Oliver’s weak voice came from behind me.I slowly turned and looked at the man lying in bed. He looked tired. I didn’t think he looked like a man on death’s door, but the doctors and nurses assured me that was the case. I was in awe of his strength. I had no idea he was sick. Yesterday when I had shown up to the house, he was still in bed. He politely asked me to drive him the twenty miles to the hospital.Initially, I thought maybe he had the flu. He had just been on an airplane. Airplanes were nasty, germ-laden boxes. When he’d quickly been admitted with almost no questions asked, I realized something was wrong. It was all prearranged. It was like he was checking in at a hotel.“I’m here, O
AlexI walked out of the room. “I’m leaving,” I said to the nurse, not stopping to hear what she was about to say. I couldn’t stay there another minute. I was on the verge of tears. I didn’t want to turn into a blubbery mess with an audience.I got back in my truck and drove. I felt numb. When I got within five minutes of town, I called Sadie, hoping she was off work.“Hey,” I said when she answered. “You free? I could really use a drink.”“Alex, it’s one o’clock in the afternoon. Since when do you day-drink?”“I need a drink. You don’t have to drink.”“I’ll meet you at Bob’s,” she said, naming the one bar in town. Bob’s also served as a diner and all-around hangout for the over twenty-one crowd, but it wasn’t all that surprising to see a toddler in the bar with a mom or dad on occasion.I drove to the bar, parking in the paved lot that had more potholes than solid blacktop. When I walked inside, I immediately spotted sleek black hair. It was easy to find her anywhere. She liked flash
DamionI sat at my desk, reviewing a new piece from one of my seasoned journalists when my assistant buzzed the intercom. “Mr. Whittle?”“Yes?”“There’s someone here to see you. He says he’s a lawyer.”I didn’t think I was being sued, but one never knew in the current climate. We weren’t in the business of celebrity news, which protected us from some suits but not all. I adjusted my tie, wanting to present a professional appearance.“I’ll be right out.”I got to my feet and opened the office door. The lawyer was nothing like the other lawyers I dealt with. The guy was wearing jeans, cowboy boots, a cowboy hat, and a bolo tie. He looked to be in his late sixties. I didn’t have to ask where he was from.“I’m Damion Whittle,” I said, extending my hand.“Good to meet you, Damion. I’m Harvey Larson. I’m your grandfather’s attorney.”I nodded, gesturing for him to go inside. “Hold my calls,” I said, not looking forward to the conversation I knew to be coming.Harvey had taken a seat already
DamionHe slowly nodded. “You heard me. Like I said, your grandpa, he was one smart son of a bitch. I tried to do what he did and lost money. He just had a knack for knowing what was a good bet and what wasn’t.”“Wow,” I breathed. “I never knew. He never mentioned investing. You knew him. There was nothing about him that said he knew the first thing about investing.”“He liked to keep his cards close to the vest.”“Shit,” I said, my mind still trying to process everything. “He left it to me?” Harvey waved the stack of papers. “It’s all right here.”I shook my head. “I don’t know what to say. Do I thank you? I feel like a shithead. I didn’t go to the man’s funeral. I don’t feel worthy.”“Honestly, I don’t think he expected you to go to the funeral. He planned it all to keep you from having to relive that experience.”I gulped down the lump in my throat. When Ann had died, I had been a wreck. My grandfather had flown out to be with me. I didn’t even remember the first few days after he
AlexI took a bite of my crispy bacon before sipping the black coffee. I had been starving when I walked into the only restaurant in town. People in town were used to me eating a lot. I burned a lot of calories doing what I did, and for now, I didn’t have to worry too much about putting on a ton of weight. I wasn’t exactly a bodybuilder, but I was stronger than most women.Correction, stronger than most normal women. Women that ranched and farmed were tough. I was proud to be what I considered one of the elite class of females across the country that could rein in a scared horse, load a bale of hay, and then cook up a hot meal for the menfolk. What I really loved was working my ass off on a farm and then sitting down to enjoy a meal someone else prepared. Like my breakfast. Any meal prepared by someone else always tasted a little better in my opinion.“Did you get those new boots you were looking at?” Sadie asked casually.I stuffed a buttery piece of pancake in my mouth, shaking my h