30. Dean
Dean
W ork's got in the way of our plans, and we've been busy moving the livestock around to give them new pasture to munch.
We also needed to mend part of the fence that had rotted away to nothing, as they do after a while.
In addition, we've invested some time in fixing the potholes in the tracks that wind through our property.
This last is a thankless task, because it's an ongoing battle we can never win, but it's something you have to do each year, and you have to do it when the weather's good.
Every summer (as now) we fill in the new potholes, straighten out the humps and bumps, dig channels to let water run off naturally into the ditches.
Each winter the snow and rain comes down and through freeze-thaw action combined with the slow but sure pressure of gravity combined with the wind and the rain, and the vehicles driving up and down, new potholes emerge, and the old channels clog up.
A few days have gone by, and we've not heard from the Sheriff or that asshole Sinclair since the Sheriff came over with his sidekick to deliver his message.
One bribe. One thinly veiled threat. It had felt good to send him away with a flea in his ear, but none of us thought that they would just leave it there.
I have a feeling in my bones that sooner or later, one or other of them will be back.
We'd discussed it, the three of us, and we'd agreed that the assholes might easily pick Hailey as the softer target next time.
We had to tell her about Sinclair's false claims. If he finds an alternative witness that he can bribe to say they knew the land was his…
well, it may not be much, but those twenty or so acres are Hailey's, not his.
We can't stand by and let him take them off her through a fraudulent act. We have to warn her.
Now, as the four of us (Reed, Lennon, Grace and myself) sit at the breakfast table, I decide it's the right moment to make an announcement.
"It's time we talked to Hailey." Nods all around the table.
I am about to launch into my plan for how we tackle our upcoming discussion with Hailey, when Grace interrupts.
"Talk to Hailey about what?" She is just finishing up her second pancake along with draining her plastic cup of orange juice, before Lennon takes her into pre-school.
As ever, she looks beautiful— as sweet as cherry pie I think to myself as I gaze down at her with affection.
Nearly five now. How quickly they grow up.
I wonder if she'll grow up to be as beautiful a woman as she is now as a child. She has her mother’s looks, but she'll look a little like Hailey, too.
Ah… Hailey. Those long, slim legs, the high cheek bones, the delicate line of her neck, the way her shoulder blades move when she reaches for something up high.
Her delicate scent of roses and sandalwood.
I can almost imagine the smell of her… almost, but infuriatingly not quite.
It's only been a couple of days, but I sure as Hell miss having her around. She's the sort of woman that?—
"Why are you staring at me, Uncle Dean?"
"Huh?"
"You've been staring at me, Uncle Dean. Why are you staring at me?"
"Oh! Oh… er… sorry Grace, I was totally lost in my thoughts."
"About Hailey?"
"Well… er… yes, I guess so." I blush bright red.
"Are you in love with Hailey, Uncle Dean?"
"I… er… no! No, of course not!" I splutter, my face now the color of our old barn, painted the traditional red that all the old county barns use around here.
Reed is practically falling out of his chair, he's laughing so hard at my discomfort.
Even Lennon has a smile on his face. This is humiliating…
yet I hate to lie, especially to these three people—the three people I love the most in my life.
So… is it true? And if it isn't true, why am I turning so red?
I shake my head. Now is not the time for introspection.
"Get a grip on yourself, Reed, you assh—" I suddenly remember Grace is present. "You asshat."
"I'm sorry, Dean." He splutters. "It's just your face…" He carries on laughing.
"I think you're in love with Hailey too, Uncle Reed." Grace pipes up once more, and that causes his laughter to die away instantly.
"Because I saw you kissing her, a few days ago.
It was early in the morning and you were leaving her room and you kissed her for ages.
Then you came back, but you didn't see me—I was hiding in the trees.
And Tammy Lee at pre-school says that if a boy kisses you, he has to marry you.
Are you going to marry Hailey, Uncle Dean? Or is Uncle Reed going to marry her?"
Now it's the turn of Lennon to smirk at the pair of us. "I doubt she'd give either of you dumb-asses the time of day, let alone agree to marry you. You're both way below her standard."
"Oh, unlike you huh?" I shoot back, in a weak attempt to win back the upper hand.
"Well, I wish one of you would marry her," says Grace. "Then I'd have a proper family—I mean a family with a mommy as well as three daddies."
Silence reigns for a moment as we all digest that thought, broken (thankfully) by Lennon.
"Right, Grace. Time for pre-school."
A family with a mommy as well as three daddies.
Thinking back to the relatively small amount of time that Hailey spent with us in the big house, I can't help thinking how nice it was having her around.
How much homier it had felt. If I'm completely honest with myself—well, Grace ain't the only one who would benefit from having a woman around the place.
Before departing the kitchen to go our separate ways, Reed, Lennon and I had agreed to meet back there at six this evening.
We want to head across to see Hailey without having to worry about Grace, so Lennon has spoken to one of the workers—Marsha—who has agreed to come babysit Grace for an hour or two, so that Lennon can join us.
Grace likes Marsha, and she's a pretty reliable type of person, so Lennon doesn't mind.
It's exactly six now, and the three of us are here, so it's time for our visit.
"Good to go?"
"Yep." Reed smiles and winks like we're playing some kind of game, and Lennon gives his usual grunt to mean 'yes'.
Lennon gives Grace a kiss goodbye, and I give a nod to Marsha as we leave.
"Keep your eye on her," I say. "You know what she's like."
Marsha smiles reassuringly at me. "Sure, Mr. Carter, I'll take good care of her."
I lead the way out the door and into the yard, and the three of us make our way down to the stile in the fence that separates the two properties, climb the stile, and work our way around the lake and up to True Heart Lodge.
As we get there, the door opens, and Hailey stands there, framed by the sunlight in a way that kind of outlines her body inside her lightweight summer dress.
Jesus—I can see every line of her through that dress.
Despite the seriousness of our visit, and my full intention to keep this trip away from anything to do with relationships and focusing one hundred percent on Sinclair and the Sheriff, I still feel my cock stirring in my boxers below.
"Get a grip!"
"Huh? What's that, boss?"
Jesus Christ—did I say that out loud?
"Oh… er… nothing. Nothing at all, I was telling myself to get ready."
"Ok, boss." Nothing more is said, but out the corner of my eye I see Lennon and Reed exchange quizzical glances. I cannot afford to slip up like that again.
"Hello boys." Hailey smiles sweetly at us as we climb the veranda steps. "I saw you heading this way out the window whilst I was fixing supper. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"
Reed and Lennon look at me, so I say, "We got something to tell you. Something serious. Something we think you need to know about. Can we come in?"
She opens the door wide and gestures us in, leading the way herself into her cosy kitchen. The three of us all grab a seat around the kitchen table, as she busies herself with the coffee pot on the stove. When she's got the coffee under control, she joins us, and I make a start.
"We wouldn't be telling you this if it wasn't important, Hailey. But we're all agreed you need to know."
"Okay. So tell me."
I take a sip of the fresh, strong coffee she's brewed, and begin my story.
"A coupla days ago the three of us got a visit from the police—leastways the Sheriff, though my opinion is he ain't hardly qualified to shovel shit, let alone wear an officer's badge." Lennon grunts his agreement at this, and Reed is nodding, so I carry on.
"He had some papers with him. A court claim. From that other asshole, Sinclair."
" Sinclair? " Hailey's ears seem to prick up at my mention of his name.
"Yeah, Sinclair—the man who owns the land the other side of you from us. Wanted to buy your land off you. Reed tells me he made you an offer. A low one."
"Yes, that's right he did. I told him 'no'."
"Good. Pleased to hear it. Well anyway, seems like he ain't giving up so easy on owning your land. Seems like if he can't buy it off you, he's gonna steal it off you. This claim he had—well it had your name on it, Hailey. We don’t know if he’s actually gonna file it or not. He tried bribing us to provide evidence to support it, so we’re guessing he ain’t got enough proof of anything to file shit without our help.
Not yet at least." I pause, looking across at her to see how she's taking this news.
She seems surprisingly unphased by this revelation.
"Honestly, I am not surprised," she says. "In fact, I've been expecting it. My parents have warned me about him."
"Your parents have what?" Reed interrupts, his face a picture of bewilderment. I'm completely puzzled too. What on Earth can she mean? Her parents have been dead twenty years or more, she told us so.
"In that letter we found—you found for me, I should say."
"Oh, right!" Reed's face clears. What she says at least makes sense now, but what on Earth would her mother and father have had to say about Victor Sinclair of all people?
I'm about to ask her when she interrupts and says, "Look, sorry, I shouldn't have interrupted you. Carry on with your story, and then, when you're done, I'll tell you mine, okay?" I nod. Seems sensible. I take another sip of coffee and continue.
"Anyway," I continue, "the Sheriff showed up at our place with a court document. Said Sinclair's claiming the land you're living on was stolen from him years back. Reckons the transfer of ownership was fraudulent."
Her eyes don't even flicker. She leans forward a touch, calm as can be, and says, "Go on."
"He told us Sinclair wants us to sign a statement backing up his claim—says we'd get ten grand each if we did. Sweet little bribe, and a big ugly threat if we didn't."
Reed chimes in. "He said if we didn't cooperate, he'd put every agency he could think of onto us—tax, agriculture, environmental, zoning, you name it. Said we'd spend the rest of our lives drowning in paperwork and lawsuits."
Now she reacts. Her brows knit. "That's… incredibly corrupt."
"Sure is," I say. "And if he's that desperate, we figured you should know. So, we wanted to give you a heads-up."
She smiles—not sweetly this time, but fiercely.
Calm, and fierce. "Thanks. I appreciate it.
But like I said—I was expecting this. You see, I've been reading that letter from my mother—the one that was in the secret compartment in the headboard.
She wrote it before she and my dad flew to Peru, just before they died.
She said Victor Sinclair had tried to steal the land once before, from the Ute.
That my father fought him in court and won.
And that the Ute gave this land to my parents—in trust, for me.
Because my father helped them in their court case, and they thought my parents would die very soon, but they believed one day I'd return to protect it. "
Silence. You could hear a pine needle drop.
I glance at Reed. He looks like someone walked over his grave. Lennon's frowning, lips tight. I don't know what to say. None of us do.
Finally, I clear my throat. "So you… you believe that?"
Her eyes meet mine. "I do. It sounds crazy, but I do. It's not just land, Dean. It's sacred. It's a legacy. And I'm going to fight for it."
Reed lets out a long breath. "Jesus."
That's when Lennon's phone buzzes. He pulls it out, checks the screen, speaks for a moment.
He freezes, like he's in some kind of shock or something.
"What is it?" I ask.
He swallows. "It's Marsha. Grace's not there."
"What do you mean 'she's not there'?"
"I mean… she's gone missing."
We all look at each other. Then I say what we're all thinking…
"Sinclair!"