Chapter 2. Take Your Shot #3
“No,” Gail said. “Far as I know, his nasty old bones are still under the ground somewhere around the barn.”
Tyler stopped and jotted a note before looking back up again. “Mind if I take photos of the cemetery?”
“Not at all.”
Gail changed course and led us over to the plot.
Most of the headstones were so weatherworn as to be illegible.
Only a few letters and numbers could be made out.
A C. A 3. An 8, maybe, or was it another 3?
Sadly, there were a few very small headstones, presumably for young children or for babies who hadn’t survived childbirth.
Healthcare back then certainly wasn’t what it is today.
I pointed to another assembly of grave markers ten yards away. “Who’s buried there?”
“Virgil and Martha,” Gail said. “Two of their children and their spouses. Several of the other people who were enslaved here.”
Given that her family was buried here, my guess was that she’d carve out a few acres to sell along with the barn and retain the remaining property, including this part where the family cemetery was located.
We walked for another minute or two until we came to the riverbank.
The Leipers Fork branch of the Harpeth River was narrow, little more than a stream.
But a rock dam had been erected to form a shallow pool about twelve feet wide and twenty feet long.
Livestock had likely drunk from the pool.
Perhaps the Womble family had even fished in it over the years.
Maybe Cornelia’s sons had frolicked in the water on hot summer days along with the children enslaved on the property.
If not for the fact that it was late March and quite chilly, I might’ve been tempted to frolic in the water myself.
I could easily visualize a riverside deck, or maybe a wood and stone pavilion set a little farther back in case of flooding.
Buck bent down and put his hand in the water, scooping up a palmful and letting it run through his fingers before standing. He glanced left and right. “Where are the property lines?”
Gail pointed to a live oak down the way. “The southern boundary is at that tree.” She pointed to a small rise in the distance in other direction. “The top of that rise is the northern boundary.”
Our tour finished, we returned to the barn.
I exchanged a look with Buck. This property had an incredibly fascinating history, and I would love to play a part in preserving it, even if in a modified way.
The hitch of his brows told me he was as interested as I was.
We’d never bought a place with acreage before, but I was excited by the idea. There are so many possibilities!
I turned to Gail. “How much are you asking for the barn? We’re interested in buying it, along with as much of the land as you’re willing to part with.”
“Buy?” She shook her head. “Oh, no, no, no. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea.
I have no intention of letting this property pass out of my family no matter how much money is put on the table.
If I did, I would’ve taken the big offer I received last month.
It piqued my curiosity, though, so I called my neighbor to determine what the property is actually worth.
She’s a commercial real estate agent. I realized then that I’d better do something about the barn or it would be lost to the elements just like the house.
My neighbor suggested I get in touch with you all.
She said you two have built quite a reputation in the real estate world for your remodeling work.
I’m hoping you can preserve the barn and turn it into some sort of income-producing property. ”
Disappointment made my shoulders slump. “You only want to hire us as contractors?”
“That’s correct.”
Buck sighed. “Unfortunately, that’s not what we do. We’re flippers. We work for ourselves, not other people.”
I hated to let the woman down, but I agreed with Buck. I liked being my own boss, not having to answer to anyone else. But maybe I could still help her out. “I used to be a property manager. I can recommend some reliable contractors.”
“No.” Gail pointed at me and my cousin. “I want you two. After the Realtor recommended you, I did my due diligence. I went out to the Music City Motor Court, the Joyful Noise Playhouse, Rosie’s Inn, and that old fire station you turned into a house.
I was impressed with what I saw. I realize remodeling someone else’s property isn’t your typical process but, after everything my family went through here, I just can’t let go of this place.
I want to pass it on to my children, and for them to pass it on to their children.
You understand why I can’t sell, don’t you? ”
I did. Both sides of her family had poured blood, sweat, and tears into this property.
This place was their legacy, and I’d love to help them preserve it.
One look at Buck, and I could tell he felt the same.
I turned back to Gail. If she had wanted the place to serve simply as a horse barn again, she could’ve hired a skilled handyman to make the necessary repairs.
She must not have thought a horse boarding business would be the most lucrative use of the property.
“Did you have any ideas about what the barn should become? A business of some sort? A residential rental property?”
She smiled, realizing she’d convinced us to consider the contracting gig. “I’m open to suggestions. Why don’t you come up with some ideas and design concepts for me to consider? I’m sure you’ll wow me.” Though there were many details yet to be worked out, she extended her hand to shake on the deal.
I took her hand in mine and gave it a firm shake. “In the interest of full disclosure, the remodeling work might take longer than usual. I’m pregnant and will have some limitations.”
“Pregnant?” She reflexively rose up on her toes and clasped her hands at her chest. “How exciting! I bet your parents are thrilled. I absolutely adore my grandchildren.” Her gaze traveled down to my belly. “You don’t have much of a bump yet. How’s the morning sickness?”
“Tolerable.”
“It’s a boy, then. Women who are pregnant with girls get much more nauseated from the overload of female hormones.”
A little boy could be a lot of fun, though I had no preference one way or the other. A girl would be fun, too.
Tyler interjected, returning our discussion to the matter at hand. “I’d love to hear what y’all decide to do with the barn. That way, my story can cover the barn’s past and its future.”
With no other projects in the works, I could start on the designs right away. “How about we meet back here next Monday to discuss the plans? Same time?”
Both of them consulted the calendars on their phones to check their availability.
Gail looked up. “Could we make it noon? My dog has an appointment with the vet that morning for his annual checkup.”
“Noon works for me,” Tyler said.
“Me too.” I pointed to Gail’s phone. “Got any photos of your dog on there?”
She issued a soft snort. “Are you kidding?” She brought up her photos and proceeded to show me a dozen or more of a wiry terrier mix lounging on a couch, happily wriggling on his back in a pile of leaves, and playing tug-of-war with a boy of two or three whose mouth hung open in laughter.
“That’s my youngest grandson. I’m not sure which of them is cuter. ”
“Me neither,” I said. “I’d call it a tie.”
Buck and I bade the two goodbye and turned to go. Behind us, I heard Tyler say, “I’d like to know more about that ‘big offer’ you mentioned.”