Chapter Twelve #2
“My own brand of research.” She dialed back the smirk. “You head to the archives. I talk to locals.” She stood on tiptoes and brushed her lips against his and then placed her mouth near his ear to whisper. “Petal is a Telford. So’s Lucas.”
“Sneaky,” he said sounding impressed, “and a little creepy. I married a stalker.”
She laughed and then held his hand again, enjoying the connection in a way she hadn’t imagined.
“I’ll have that made into a T-shirt,” she teased.
“But I also thought seeing a local nonprofit that has a high degree of community support might help kick-start your thoughts about a legacy for Cam—if you wanted to buy a ranch in his honor, great, but you’ll want to do something with it. ”
He stopped walking and stared at her. Had she overstepped?
“Ayana, you humble me.”
Her heart flipped.
“We’re here.” Petal and Arlo, the girl with the purple hair, stood opposite sides of the walkway up to the house.
There was a metal sign proclaiming Harry’s House Annex.
“This is for teens. The house next door is the after-school program for elementary school kids—there’s tutoring, games, activities, and a shuttle that can take them to the rec center and stuff.
It’s pretty well organized and staffed. The teen center has a lot more teen volunteers and a teen council and stuff like that,” Petal said.
“And we have activities on the weekend now too.”
“Welcome,” Arlo added, and then she and Petal raised their hands and made a little bridge. “Hey, Parker, want to join our bridge?”
The teen laughed. “What are you girls trying to do, freak them out? What’s next? Montana, are you going to be the spirit guide?”
“Like a ghost?” a petite, dark-haired girl asked and then, smiling, she began waving her arms around and moaning and she swayed under the outstretched arms of her friends. “Follow me into the spirit realm.”
*
“Is everyone we meet in this town absurdly friendly, or is it you?” Telford demanded after a short informative discussion about the history and purpose of Harry’s House and Harry’s House Annex from the director of the annex, Ginny Lane Telford.
Ginny had given them the tour, a brochure, and QR code on the programs as well as information on other local sites, activities, including other local attractions while they were in town.
“She’s hoping you’ll donate,” Ayana said softly as Ginny rejoined the circle of kids, “and you’re not being paranoid if they are out to fleece you in a good way.”
Telford scanned the small, ranch-style house that had been converted into a teen center.
The kitchen could hold cooking classes. The main room was used for meetings, hanging out, discussion groups, and lectures, and the three bedrooms were now a study center, craft room, and quiet room.
They’d also been shown an impressive shop in the back where kids could learn hands-on machine repair, auto maintenance, and some trade skills.
There was also another, separate building that was an art studio.
But was this what he envisioned for Cam? It didn’t resonate.
But what would?
“I don’t think Cam was a do-gooder,” he murmured, admitting the words and the concept for the first time. “He wanted to make money. He wanted the good life. He wanted a seat at the table—literally and metaphorically.”
Ayana turned her head to look at him and really dialed in to what he was saying.
“But you said before he died so suddenly, he’d been planning on making some significant changes in his life.”
“Yes, and I shut him down,” Telford said. Shame washed over him. “I don’t like change. That probably sounds hopelessly dull to you.”
“No. Not at all.”
He was doubtful, looking for the polite, thinly veiled-over honesty. “You strike me as spontaneous. Adventurous. In the moment.”
“I’ve had to be.” She shrugged.
That surprised him. She hadn’t really talked much about her life before, and when he tried to casually probe, she subtly shut him down. He’d noticed and wondered. But he wanted to earn her trust. Not push.
The meeting with the kids was wrapping up and there was talk of rodeo, bulldogging, and bull riding, and he felt raw inside.
Would there be barrel racing? He’d loved to watch his mother compete.
Even now, twenty years later, he could still remember the familiar smells of animal, dirt, sweat, and sawdust mixed with leather and meadow grasses and flowers.
“You want to come check out the Telford family ranch,” Ginny said. “It’s our first stock-contracting workshop for the season. It’s practice really because next weekend is the wedding and after that Cash is heading to the AEbr finals in Vegas.”
“I’m not sure that’s appropriate,” Telford said stiffly.
Did she know? Suspect? Her husband had met him. He must have shared.
“We’re not the type of family to ignore the elephant in the room. Someone at the clinic told Witt you’d come by for the DNA test.”
He bristled a little—surely the HIPAA laws would curb gossip.
Ginny smiled as if she could read his mind.
“Small towns,” she said a little ruefully.
“And then Maddy, Cash’s fiancée, is doing some social media work for Joanie at Marietta Western Wear, and she said that y’all had been in there cowboying it up but that you didn’t buy a hat but your wife did, so you might as well dip your toe in and get your cowboy on,” Ginny said pragmatically.
“My husband is not a big sharer, but I heard him in a deep consultation with Cash and his dad in the ranch office last night.
“I’m not a geneticist, but I’m not blind.
Petal and Lucas both texted that they’d met Cash’s twin at the library.
Boone dropped into the Graff this afternoon with an invitation so you might as well give in to small-town and Telford hospitality and come.
Watching the rodeo cowboys fine-tune their skills with our bulls and buckin’ broncs over winter is our Netflix.
There’s a wood-fired pizza. Tonight’s just family. ”
“Then that’s more reason for us not to come.”
Ginny touched his shoulder lightly, staring directly into his eyes while Lucas and Petal had packed up their backpacks and stood beside her. “That’s the reason you should come.”