Chapter 10
Ava
I shed my pencil skirt for worn-in cutoffs, and I couldn’t help wondering what Eli-the-leg-man would think of them.
Then, with Nina engrossed in a nature show on TV, I took my phone to the deck.
The AC and the shade from the tree kept the interior of the trailer from simmering.
A small win as I leaned against the railing, victim to the full flame of the afternoon sun and Steven’s haunting comment.
What makes you think it’s still yours?
To stay there would’ve torn me in two. But Hidden Meadows contained the last traces of my husband. He was mixed in the soil, waiting for me to follow through on my promises. To reclaim our home and live our dream. And I was running out of time.
By the stables, Eli led a man with an obnoxious swagger to the horses. Sugar reared at their approach, and the stranger slapped Eli on the back, laughing.
Ugh. No thanks.
Eli noticed me out on the deck and stared in my direction so long I had to point out that his interviewee had wandered off without him. He ducked under the brim of his hat before jogging to catch up.
As I watched him go, something light and carefree tickled under my skin. Before I could chicken out, I dialed Terry.
We started with small talk. He thought Eli was my boyfriend and laughed when I tried to correct him. I dropped the topic, more eager to resolve our other little dispute.
“It’s not that I don’t want to sell to you,” he said.
“Then what is it?”
“Well … you saw what it’s like here.”
“So, you’re selling it to a corporation instead?”
After a pause, he said, “You know about that?”
“Is it a done deal?”
“No! No, it isn’t anything.” A chair squeaked under new weight on his end. “I wasn’t looking to sell. A man came by in his fancy blue suit and handed me an envelope, told me the place was worth millions.”
“You know they’ll level it before the ink’s dry?”
“Not much left to level …”
“Terry! You’re acting like the place is already past hope!”
He met my accusation with silence.
Would the corporation have known about Hidden Meadows if not for Steven?
Our relationship sailed onto full screen, replaying every red flag I ignored out of loneliness and desperation.
How had I justified the office flirtation?
Why did I concede to that first date? Or carry on after our underwhelming first kiss?
Traded vibrance for monochrome, and paraded around in shoes as impractical as agreeing I didn’t need my truck?
I’d let him bulldoze right over me, just like the intended future of Hidden Meadows.
Frustrated tears burned my eyes, but crying wouldn’t stick my life back together, only make my view muddier and this valley harder to climb out of. I’d promised Jason. If our dream died, he’d be gone forever. One day, our ranch wouldn’t be a torrent. It would be an anchor.
Dirt and sweat didn’t scare me. “I still want Hidden Meadows. I know the market has shot up, so if you want to negotiate a different price–”
“You know it ain’t about the money.”
“What’s it about, then?” Did no one honor promises anymore? Did they have expiration dates? If so, I missed the memo.
Air hissed between his teeth, and I could almost see him twisting his bushy handlebar mustache. “You know, horses do better in herds.” My brow furrowed in confusion. But before I could ask what he meant, he said, “I need to see to a few things. Can we talk later?”
“Sure.” After the call ended, I leaned over the railing, afraid I might be sick. “I’m not a lone horse.”
My whole plan was falling apart. I could either give up, accept my fate, and pretend to be happy, or hold on to hope.
Power through with faith that I’d reach the end and it would all be worth it.
I stared out at the ocotillo. Somehow, they found the strength to make beautiful flowers with almost no water.
Hidden Meadows aside, I needed a job and a place to live.
I climbed the wooden stairs to the front door of the main house with Nina on my hip and two computers under my other arm. The colorful lineup of painted Adirondack chairs made for a welcoming greeting. I could see myself kicking back in one of them, beer in hand.
“What are you two trouble-makers doing?”
I spun to find Bill at the bottom of the porch steps. “Oh! Hi, Bill. I didn’t see you come up.” I set Nina on her feet. She went straight for the bright red chair and started climbing.
His eyes fell to my computer. “You working?”
“I need to send out an email.” More specifically, a letter of resignation. “And look for an apartment. Eli said we could use the Wi-Fi?” Bill’s frown made me wonder if I should have left Eli out of it. “But I don’t want to be underfoot. I can do it from out here.”
He watched Nina play on the chair, his serious expression adapting an air of mischief. “I’ll tell ya what? If you eat Marley’s muffins, you can come in where it’s cool and hop on the Wi-Fi.”
I laughed. Is he serious?
“That’ll get me off the hook,” he confided. His mouth remained a straight line, but little smile lines appeared next to his eyes.
“How many muffins are we talking about?”
“Eh, let’s say two.”
Two? That’s it? I called Nina. “Come on, Crackerjack. We’re going inside.” To lure her into cooperation, I handed over her LeapFrog tablet, my digital babysitter for only very necessary occasions.
Bill led us to the kitchen. A bowl of fruit sat in the middle of the granite island, and next to it, a colorful plate piled high with dark brown hockey pucks. He leaned his palms on the counter. “Take your pick.”
I selected the smallest, least burnt muffin. “You have a beautiful house.”
“Thank you.” He watched my cautious taste and grimaced on my behalf.
I forced the salty, bitter bite down. “Is it just you and Marley living here?”
“Marley’s just here for some summer reflection.” At my raised brow, he added, “She’s my niece.” He grabbed a glass from the cabinet, filled it with water, and held it out like a peace offering.
“Thank you.” I drained it, then forced the rest of the muffin down. “So, it’s just you?”
His expression sagged a little. But in the next breath, he straightened and said, “Genius loci.”
“What?”
“The Wi-Fi password.” He spelled it out with a mix of letters, numbers, and symbols that made my head spin.
I whipped open my laptop. “Hold on. One more time.” It took three tries.
The afternoon passed with Nina and me sitting side-by-side, our heads buried in our screens.
I planned to write a saccharine resignation letter to Steven.
Did a part of me hope he’d realize his mistake and apologize?
Yes. But after the confrontation at his house, I knew miracles like that were saved for Hallmark movies at Christmastime.
I couldn’t believe he thought I was shacking up to make him jealous!
Bill set a plate next to me with another muffin. “Thanks for taking one for the team.”
“I believe that's two, actually.” With a fortifying breath, I picked it up. It stared back. Literally. Extra-burnt spots straddled the center like two dark, bread-y eyes.
Bill’s smile looked as natural as the scowl I’d met him in. “I’ll leave you to it, then.” He patted my shoulder and wandered out of the kitchen.
As I chewed, and chewed, and chewed, I wondered, did I just make a new friend?
The repetitious music from Nina’s counting game became the underscore to my clacking of keys. I scrolled through apartment listings, some with pools. After scheduling a few tours, I pushed on to the next task.
If Terry sold me the ranch … No, scratch that. When Terry sold me Hidden Meadows, I would need a steady paycheck. Not only to secure a loan, but to have income for renovations. I wondered if I could squeak in a preapproval using my newly resigned job? How would they know?
Hours later, my stomach rumbled. I drummed my fingers on the pitted wooden tabletop. What next? The clock read almost five. Shoot!
I rubbed Nina’s back. “Hey, Crackerjack. Time to turn it off. We need to go shopping.” Groceries were cheaper than eating out, and until I secured an income, we were officially on a budget.
She whined, melting into the table like a popsicle in the sun.
“You can pick something out. You want Fruit Loops?”
“Did someone say Fruit Loops?”
I spun to find Eli in the archway, wiping his hands on his dusty jeans.
Sweat highlighted his skin, and streaks of motor grime marred his clothes. “I haven’t had those since I was a kid.”
Was he always that tall? “Oh. Hey.”
White teeth flashed in an unabashed smile. His were more pronounced than his dad’s, but he had the same crinkle lines in his eyes. “Oh, hey, back atcha.”
I tripped on the bench as I stood. “A-are you done with the battery?”
“Not yet. Just here to grab some water.” He moved to the sink and filled a cup at the tap.
I thought he said it would be quick? His throat flexed, his Adam’s apple bobbed with each gulp, and thirst seized me like a lasso, tightening when a satisfied sigh left his chest.
I forced myself to swallow. “Let me guess. You were one of those beer-chuggers when you were a kid.”
His eyes lost their crinkles. “I was a lotta things when I was a kid.”
“Well …” Way to kill the mood. “I was all work and no play. Not much better.”
Awkward silence fell between us. He scratched behind his head, apparently unaware of my cut-offs.
Maybe that was a good thing.
“I need to go to the store,” I said.
Nina moaned, sliding off the bench and flowing into a puddle under the table–not unlike what I wanted to do. We stared at her. Kids got away with everything.
“But …” I added, “I need my Chevy.”
“Oh.” He ran a hand over his hat. “Take my truck.” He disappeared into the hall and came back with a set of keys.
Nina continued moaning, a long, theatrical death scene.
He nodded in her direction. “You want to leave her here?”