CHAPTER 37
Riggs
The week is over, and I’m left with a single thought, I wish I had more time.
After Maddie went to work Monday morning, I was all set to have the money transferred into Keegan’s bank account, but he told me to hold off until his accountant could establish a business account at the local bank.
I was surprised to learn that Zane’s wife, Chelsea, is his new accountant.
Apparently, she’s everyone’s accountant around here.
Keegan said he got Chelsea’s standard deal—the first six months free while the business gets off the ground, then she starts charging.
I told him that’s a hell of a deal. These really are good people.
By the time I set up the sixty-thousand-dollar line of credit through Masters Roofing Supply, his new bank account was ready for my wire transfer.
Keegan also rented the house next to Rhonda’s place, purchased a reasonably priced used truck, ordered some magnetic signs for the doors, and put Chelsea in charge of all the business funds.
He said if the money has to go through her, he and Josh won’t be tempted to make dumb decisions.
That setup also ensured their dad couldn’t get his hands on any of it.
I thought that was smart, and I was equally impressed when they spent a few days posting flyers around town and they even ran a small ad in The Caller.
Sweetbriar Hollow Roofing is up and running and Maddie couldn’t be happier about it.
It’s one more thing she doesn’t have to worry about, and besides that, she seems to be getting along with them just fine.
The whole thing is a win-win for everyone.
And speaking of The Caller, I picked one up along with a breakfast bagel and was more excited than I probably should have been when I saw the results.
Maddie is Team Olivia, and I’m Team Sophia, so I did a little fist-pump when I read that Sophia kicked Olivia’s ass.
Not only that, but my team took the top spot, and to my credit, I only purchased two jars.
On Tuesday, a customer at the fabric store told Rhonda and Maddie that Joe Emmerson’s bunkmate, twenty-two-year-old Bryce Stoddard, came down with a bad case of gonorrhea too.
I was surprised when Maddie explained that six cowboys lived in a bunkhouse at Zane’s ranch.
I didn’t know cattle ranches still did that sort of thing.
Anyway, the same customer, an older woman who apparently is the only piano teacher in Sweetbriar, confirmed that all four women have the STD.
Now everyone is wondering who gave it to whom.
Did the new guy, Bryce, give it to one of the girls then she gave it to Joe Emmerson and that’s how it spread, or did something else happen that we don’t know about?
Either way, the Jam Opera keeps getting better.
I managed to try everything on The Fool’s Grill menu and didn’t find a single dish I didn’t love.
I also discovered that the pizza place on Main Street, called Thrice Slice, has a pizza menu that’s just as crazy but also just as good.
Their spinach and crab stuffed mushrooms on a feta cheese pizza accompanied by a blend of muenster, provolone, and mozzarella cheeses was insanely good.
Maddie introduced me to the owner who turned out to be one of her friends from high school.
I thought Delilah May sounded like a porn star’s name, and the girl was attractive enough to be one, but she was a legit chef who had traveled to Italy to learn from the best. When Maddie explained that the mayor paid for Delilah’s European culinary adventure with city funds just so Main Street could have one more awesome business, I could hardly believe it.
It’s smart, especially when you consider how many people come down from Portland for the small town’s impressive shopping and foodie options, but I don’t typically see elected officials who think outside the box like this.
Elsie would love it, which makes me want to bring her here for a visit when Ash and I return from New Zealand.
When I visited Maddie at work on Wednesday, I met her boss, Ms. Southerby. She’s like a woman out of the Victorian era—very proper. I also got to see her photo album of all the dresses Maddie has made. I’m no expert, but to me they were stunning.
As I flipped through the laminated pages, I kept wondering why Ms. Southerby kept the album since making the dresses was Maddie’s side hustle.
But Rhonda explained how they use the photos to show customers what can be accomplished with a good sewing machine like the ones they sell at the shop. She said it seals the deal every time.
I walked out of the small fabric shop with a new appreciation for Maddie’s talent as a seamstress.
I don’t know fashion, but to me, everything she made looked like it could be on the cover of a magazine.
She even fixed all my pants. They fit much better now, not so loose and baggy in the butt, and she lined the front pockets with strips of leather.
She made other alterations as well, and now they look more…
rugged? I guess that’s the right word, maybe just cooler or more stylish.
Whatever you call it, they’re way better than they were.
When Ash saw them this morning, he asked if Maddie could alter his pants when we get back.
Of course she said yes. She’s nice to everyone that way.
After work on Monday, Maddie brought her new sewing machine over to the hotel.
She’s gotten up early to work on dresses every day since.
The woman barely gets any sleep which doesn’t sit well with me.
I got her breakfast every morning and would sit and talk to her while she worked.
Then I’d drop her off at the fabric store and go explore the area until we met up for lunch.
That was for only an hour then I’d be waiting in the truck in front of the shop when she got off.
After work on Monday, when she told me she needed to get her sewing machine, I broached the idea of her taking some time off and letting me support her, but she shot that down, and quick.
“What makes you think I want a sugar daddy? Did I give you that impression? Because I don’t think I did,” she snapped.
It was the first time I ever saw her truly angry, and it almost turned into our first fight, but I dropped it so we wouldn’t waste what little time we have left being mad at each other.
But I still don’t see why she’s so against the idea of me helping her.
I’d love nothing more than to support her with a lifestyle she deserves.
I guess I’m learning that she’s as stubborn as she is beautiful.
Keegan said they finally saw their dad on Wednesday.
Apparently, he’d been sleeping at the house all along, but the boys didn’t see him because they’ve been heading out early to drum up work for their new business.
When they did cross paths, Josh confronted him about being a no-show at the funeral, but their dad didn’t even try to make up an excuse.
“She’s dead,” he said. “What does she care if I was there or not?”
Both of Maddie’s brothers seemed pretty hurt by his callous response, but Maddie brushed it off with, “I’m so over him, I don’t even care.” It was a lie. She definitely cared.
After that dick move, their dad was furious when Keegan explained why they would no longer be working for him.
The old man even threatened to sue his own sons.
The guy is a real piece of work. When Keegan called me about it, I told him there was nothing his dad could sue him over, and even if he did manage to hire a lawyer to harass them, Keegan should let Elsie know.
“It’s the golden rule,” I told him. “He who has the gold, rules. And trust me, Elsie has the gold. She would bury his lawyer until he begged for mercy.”
Keegan thanked me sincerely. I think it was a huge relief for him.
Sex with Maddie continued to be nothing short of spectacular.
Some nights, it was simple but full of passion, and other nights, it was set-your-hair-on-fire crazy intense.
It’s been whatever we’ve felt like—no boundaries, no expectations, no pressure, and no limits to what we’re willing to try.
Although she has made one thing clear—no back door.
“I have zero interest,” I informed her. I know some guys are really into that sort of thing, maybe some girls too, although that doesn’t make sense to me. But either way, I don’t judge; it’s just something I’ve never wanted to try.
Yesterday was the pinnacle of the week, our last Saturday together. She set aside her sewing obligations for the day so we could sleep in. Then we went to Zane and Chelsea’s ranch.
Chelsea had their ranch hands saddle up four horses for a tour of the property. Of all people, Joe Emmerson prepped my horse. I could have done it myself, but I let him, hoping for an opportunity to score some intel on the Jam Opera.
“I heard you and Sophia are dating. She seems like a nice girl,” I mentioned like I had actually met Sophia, which I hadn’t. I also knew he wasn’t dating her exclusively, but it seemed like a good opener.
To my comment he just shook his head and kicked the dirt with, “Man, I’m as dumb as a fence post and twice as stuck.”
Gotta love cowboy vernacular. And by how mopey he was, I could tell he was stressed about the whole situation, so I decided to back off.
That should have been the end of it, but overhearing the conversation, Chelsea—in her worn boots and straw cowboy hat—chimed in with, “Boy, I told you to find a nice girl your own age. Should have listened to me. Now you got your tail caught in the gate, don’t you? ”
“Yes ma’am,” he answered respectfully.
I thought that was the end of it, and I was glad since I was the cause of the boy’s consternation, but Chelsea wasn’t finished with him yet.