Chapter Sixteen
As the rain poured onto the barn’s corrugated metal roof and the wind whistled through tiny cracks in the structure, Jake stared at the horizontal slits in the western wall of the barn and realized that someone had deliberately cut them.
They were flush with the gutter, so because the downspouts were clogged and the gutters filled with debris, the water flowed directly into the barn through one-foot-long, half-inch-high slits—two of them in each corner.
Jake squatted and ran his fingers around the rough wood, which had been cut recently. On purpose. Jake couldn’t fathom who would do such a thing.
The hay up here was not just damp; between the rain last night and what had come in today, it was saturated. He didn’t know if he could salvage any of it, except for maybe the hay bales closest to the edge of the loft.
He called down to the floor of the barn. “Mateo! I need a couple two-by-fours and my toolbox.”
“What’d you find?” Mateo asked.
“Someone cut holes into the barn wall.”
“You sure?”
“Damn sure,” Jake muttered.
He cleared the hay out of the way. Mold and mildew grew fast in humid northeast Texas.
Most wouldn’t be salvageable. The only food they had for the animals was the alfalfa in the bins below, which would be gone in a couple of days.
After he fixed the holes, he’d ask Lyla to help him pull out any hay that was dry.
They’d stack it in an empty stall for now, until the loft could be dried out and repaired.
Their livestock could graze when the rain stopped, but farm animals needed both grazing and feed. This would cost them out of pocket, because their insurance wouldn’t cover the hay. And their high deductible would make fixing the barn costly.
He kicked a bundle of ruined hay. Dammit! It was one thing after another.
“Jake?” Lyla’s voice came from below. “You okay?”
He didn’t want to upset his sister, though Lyla was the least likely to get upset about anything. She was so even-tempered that Avery made it a game to try and rile her up.
“Just angry.”
“About?”
What did he say? His parents had never lied to him about anything, opting to keep him included in the good and bad of running a farm. And it would come out anyway, he just didn’t want her to worry.
“I think someone cut through the wall here. I’m going to fix it.”
He heard Mateo say something, but not what he said. Then Mateo called, “I got the toolbox on the pulley!”
Jake walked over to the ladder, then stopped. The floorboards were mushy.
How long had the water been seeping through? How much damage was there?
He squatted near where he had pushed away the hay. Touched the unfinished wood. It was damp and soggy.
The entire loft was going to have to be replaced. He hoped he’d caught the damage before it seeped into the walls, otherwise they’d have far more repairs than he expected.
This was something he and his dad could have done with Mateo’s help.
They’d made major repairs before on the barn, the house; ever since Jake was ten he’d been able to handle most repairs with some guidance.
He liked working with his hands. But his dad had done the bulk of the work.
Could Jake do this alone? Even with Mateo and Lyla—who was far handier with tools than Avery or Bobby—Jake didn’t think they could fix such extensive damage without professional help.
Which meant more money out of pocket. Money that they couldn’t afford to spend when they were barely breaking even.
He went over to the pulley and hoisted up the heavy toolbox.
Mateo climbed the ladder, saw that Jake had moved all the hay to the side.
“Most, if not all of it, has to go,” Jake said.
“Those”—he gestured to a smaller stack of bales near the edge of the loft—“are dry, but I’ll have Lyla go through them to make sure. ”
“That’s nearly three-quarters of the hay wet?” Mateo said in disbelief. He inspected it, shook his head. “Damn.”
Jake picked up a two-by-four, his hammer, and a box of nails.
He blocked first one hole, then the others.
It didn’t take long, but it was a temporary fix.
When the storm passed, he would need to check the entire wall for damage.
Maybe he could replace just a few boards, and not the entire wall.
Ditto for the loft. It might not all be ruined.
“What do you think happened?” Mateo asked.
“Someone came in and cut holes in my wall,” Jake said bluntly. “Sabotage.”
“You think?
“Yes, I do!” Jake didn’t want to get angry with Mateo, he had worked on the farm almost since Jake’s birth. He was practically family. He breathed out. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, it’s okay, I get it.”
Lyla called up, “I finished with your horses, Jake. Mom isn’t back yet.”
He looked at his watch. “It’s only been thirty minutes,” he said, standing on the edge of the loft. “If the animals are secure, go on inside.”
“I want to help.”
“You have. Go get your lunch, then come back and you can go through the hay that we might be able to salvage. Okay?”
“Fine. But you need to eat, too. Mom made me promise to get you to eat.”
“We’ll be in in a few minutes,” he said.
Reluctantly, his sister left.
Jake checked his work and made sure no more water was coming in. “Seems to be good,” he said. “Let’s get a quick bite, then I need to inspect the creek and the drains.”
“I’m not going to object to eating,” Mateo said and followed Jake down the ladder. “But Penny asked me to go over to the Pritchards’ place, they’re having some trouble with their generator. I’ll get back as soon as I can.”
“Eat, then go. And you have your own house to worry about.”
“Miriam has things under control.”
“We’re okay here, now that I have the holes plugged,” Jake said. “If I need you, I’ll call.”
“If you’re sure,” Mateo said, sounding skeptical.
“I’m sure,” Jake said, a little irritated. He wasn’t his father, he didn’t have the experience and there were some things Jake was still learning, but he was capable of taking care of this land. Mateo sometimes made it seem like everything Jake did was wrong, without actually saying it.
Or maybe that was Jake projecting his own doubts on Whisper Creek Ranch’s longtime employee.
He opened the door and Mateo put a hand on his shoulder. Jake tensed. He didn’t want any more criticism.
Instead, Mateo said, “Jake, you have a lot on your shoulders and you’re handling it well. But it’s never a sin to ask for help.”
“I know,” he said. “I appreciate it. But I think we have it under control here.”
“You do. But if something else happens, call me. My loyalty will always be to the McKenna family.”
When they stepped out of the barn, Lyla was standing on the porch watching a white truck bounce over the increasingly rough road, heading toward the house. Penny stepped out and stood next to her.
Jake glared at the white Verdacorp truck.
He strode over to the vehicle before Clive Robinson could get out. When Clive tried to open the door, Jake pushed it closed. He didn’t care about the rain or wind; he wanted Clive gone.
Clive rolled down his window. “Jake, please. It’s just me. I need to talk to your mom. I have an offer I think she’ll agree to, something that will satisfy everyone.”
“We’re not selling. We’ve told you and Mitchell that over and over.”
“But you want to expand your farm?”
Jake knew there was a catch, there had to be.
“Come back after the storm and talk to my mom.”
“The offer is only good this weekend.”
“Then the answer is no.”
“You don’t even know what it is.”
“I don’t care.”
“Eight hundred acres—half of the Baldwin property we just bought—for the two hundred acres between the Coulters’ place and our pasture. That’s a four-to-one ratio.”
Jake laughed, he couldn’t help it. “I don’t believe you.”
“I have the contract right here.”
“I know there’s a catch, because there’s no way in hell Mitchell would give us four times more land than he’s getting. And you want us to sign tonight, without a lawyer? Do you think my mom is stupid?”
“I think she’s one of the smartest women I’ve ever met. I like your mom; I don’t want to screw her or your family.” Clive reached over to the passenger seat and grabbed a folder. “Where is she?”
“None of your business.”
Clive frowned, looked out at the dark sky and swirling wind.
“When she gets back, give her this. Have her call me tonight.” He thrust the folder at Jake.
He grabbed it and stuffed it under his jacket to keep it dry.
“I know my brother can be a bit of a dick,” Clive said as he turned the ignition.
“He tried to buy the whole farm when all he really wants is two hundred acres to give us a contiguous set of parcels. It’s a win-win, no tricks.
So, think about it, have Ellie call me, okay? ”
“No promises,” Jake said. He marched up the porch steps and stood with Mateo, Lyla, and Penny as they watched Clive turn around and drive back the way he came. Their driveway was a mess, the gravel sinking into the mud. He hoped his mom got back soon.
“What did he give you?” his great-grandmother asked.
“He says they want to trade half of the land they bought from Baldwin for two hundred acres of ours—the section where our cattle currently graze.”
“A trick,” Penny said. “I don’t trust any of the Robinsons, not even Clive.”
Jake agreed with his great-grandmother, but he couldn’t figure out how they could cheat them out of their land. His mom had a good lawyer, and she already knew about most of Verdacorp’s sneaky clauses. “I’m going to put this inside with Mom’s papers.”
“I was coming out to get you,” Penny said. “It’s after two, and Bobby isn’t home yet.”
“Did you call the Mendozas?”
“Avery is spending the night, Bobby left an hour ago. I’m getting worried.”
“I’ll call over there,” Jake said. He wasn’t worried yet—the road wasn’t flooded, and Bobby was probably still looking for the cat, though he should have come home when Mom told him to.