2. Chapter 2
Chapter 2
Luke
T he friendly receptionist, Sheena, shows me to my room, overlooking the town square. The room’s furnishings are unremarkably adequate, yet comfortably unpretentious. There’s an old-world charm that reminds me of my grandparents. The bed is the only piece of furniture that looks recently updated. Inside of fifty years, or so.
I walk over to the window and take in the scene of small-town goings on. Although I’m far away from my home, there’s a familiarity to the town square layout. The hotel, like the town’s square, has retained a feel of yesteryear. The grand exterior of carved stone columns and pediments speaks of a proud past, rather than an ambitious, go-getting present. Civic buildings opposite, and a library on one side, are adorned with similar sculpted architectural features, that seem too grand for such a small town.
A pleasant formal flower garden, with benches and triangles of grass, occupies the communal area below my window. Pathways crisscross through the gardens, connecting one side to another, and meet at a central fountain.
Oak River in its heyday must have been quite different from the sleepy little town it is today. It has retained a quaint dignity, like a strait-laced old lady who still thinks it necessary to put on her Sunday best for church.
“There are towels and a robe in the bathroom, here.” Sheena opens the door to show me, then closes it again. She indicates a red leatherette folder on the polished wooden desk with Welcome embossed in gold letters on its cover. “Here’s where you’ll find local information and a brief illustrated history of the town and surrounding area. Oak River was an important export hub when the river was navigable. And it was instrumental in the story of the conflict for independence. The townsfolk are very proud of their heritage.” She hands me the room key. “It’s a shame that you’re too late for the Annual Spring Fair. It was last weekend. You’ve just missed it.”
“Oh yeah?”
“It’s very popular,” says Sheena with a generous smile. “And so much fun. The local Historical Society performs a battle reenactment that’s very authentic, with original firearms and outfits the soldiers and rebels would have worn.”
“Sounds interesting.” I pick up the leather-look binder and let it fall open randomly.
“Oh, it is.” Sheena claps her hands together and holds them at her chest as if she is praying. “If you’d like to read more about it, it’s all there in the Welcome folder.”
“Alright.” I casually flick through the pages and dividers not really taking in any information. Then I lift my gaze back to the receptionist and say, “Thank you, Sheena. You’ve been very helpful.”
“No problem. And please do let me know if I can be of any further assistance, at all,” she says, smiling as she walks to the door. Stepping through, she reaches for the handle to close it after her, but pauses to say, “Oak River is a small town with a big heart, Mr Maddox. I’m sure you'll feel at home here in no time.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I’m sure you’re right.”
As the door clicks shut, I recall the pretty woman who was hiding behind the huge vase of flowers in the lobby. What was her name? Something pretty. Lydia. That’s right. Lydia Lane. I’d like to find out more about her. But first I have some business to attend to.
I call the land agent and local lawyer to confirm the appointment we have set up to sign the ownership papers for the handover of Green Acres Ranch. Then I call my dad to let him know I’ve arrived and that things are going according to plan.
“Great news, Son,” my father says on the line. We talk about the horses and the list of excited customers who are lining up, with their checkbooks ready, to purchase stock from our breeding program. Our award-winning American Quarter Horse stallions and mares are world-class. “I have every confidence in your abilities regarding the new ranch, Luke. No doubt about that.”
There’s a pause and silence on the line. I walk to the window and watch townsfolk in the square.
“I’m hearing a ‘but’, Dad.” I sit on the bed.
“Yes. Well. You know we talked about increasing our online presence.”
“Uh-huh. Yes.” I wait for my dad to continue.
“Maisy has volunteered to update the website and explore social media opportunities.” My dad’s words snap out in quick succession like rapid gunfire. He’s excited. Me? Not so much. I gaze out of the window again. “Isn’t that great?” he says.
“Is it?” My heart sinks.
To say that Maisy, the youngest daughter of my older brother, Darryl, is a handful, is a massive understatement. Because we’re relatively close in age, she’s always been more like an annoying kid sister, rather than my niece. And, since we grew up in the same house, the irritating kid sis thing was amplified to the max.
She stole my stuff. She had no respect for anyone or anything. Maisy’s probably the reason I spent so much time in the stables with horses, just to get away from her. Then, I moved out of home, as soon as I possibly could.
Maisy is the dictionary definition of rebellious. She was kicked out of two schools and almost didn’t graduate from a third.
With hindsight, my brother’s parenting skills were probably at fault. He indulged his little princess with everything her heart desired and subsequently created an obnoxious monster. Maisy.
“Now. Luke.” My dad’s tone has changed to default: authority. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“Mmmm. Do you?”
“Yes. You’re thinking that Darryl is off-loading Maisy on you for some free babysitting.”
“Isn’t that what’s going on?”
“No. Maisy has grown up. A lot. She’s very career-focused these days. And, I believe, she’s going to do a great job.” I suck in air through my clenched teeth. I’m searching for a way out, but I’m backed into a corner. “Luke. Be nice. Okay? She’s going to start here at the home ranch, then when you’ve settled in, she’ll come and take some shots of the breed horses and facilities there. Alright?”
I grunt. But I don’t say anything. Even if I did object, I’d just be overruled, so I keep my mouth shut. But my mind flipflops back in time to relive the moment Maisy screamed off down the road in my car that she’d hotwired, with her badass buddies, and my credit card that she used, without my knowledge, across three states at various gas stations, liquor stores, and motels. It was quite The Bender.
“She’s coming there to help you out, Luke.”
“Alright, Dad.” I breathe into the handset. “I get that I need help with the tech, but how else do you imagine that Maisy could possibly help me?”
“You never know, Luke. Maisy’s had her wild time, but I think she’s turned a corner. She’s got some new friends now. She’s not hanging out with that loser she was dating. What’s his name? Oh, never mind. Anyway, the point is, she needs the credits for her university paper, and we can benefit and get all that Friendbook, Tactic, and what-have-you, for nix. It’s a win-win. Don’t you think?”
“Sure, Pa. Whatever you say.”
“That’s my boy. And, Luke, she knows she’s got to prove herself. She’s a Maddox, after all. If she plays up. You just send her packing. No one’s going to judge you for that. You’re the boss there, okay?”
“Okay.”
As I hang up the call, my good mood deflates. The last thing I want is to be a babysitter for my brother’s wayward brat. Maybe she has changed. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Maisy. I’ll try to keep an open mind. However, I’ll keep my credit cards and cash locked away from her sticky little thieving fingers.