8. Josh
EIGHT
JOSH
I t was rare that I came to town for anything other than supplies.
The fact that I was here now—and why—had me on edge as I sat in the chair across from the president of Cornerstone Bank.
My father had always been adamant about not taking on more than he could handle financially, and the fact that I was here discussing a bank loan would have him turning over in his grave.
My skin scrawled with shame, but I didn’t see my way to any other option.
I crossed my legs at the ankles and tried not to feel embarrassed over the fact that I looked like I’d just walked in after mucking stalls all day—which I had.
I scratched at what I was sure wasn’t mud and flicked it onto the floor by my feet while Mr. Bridger looked through my financials.
He made an odd tutting noise every now and then but didn’t say anything that resembled a word.
I wanted to fill the strained silence but every time I opened my mouth to speak, he’d look at me over the top of his glasses and I’d close my mouth.
Finally, he appeared to finish. He reached for a handkerchief from his breast pocket and took his glasses off to wipe whatever speck might be on them before turning to regard me.
The look he gave me was worrisome and I regretted making this appointment all over again.
Abruptly, I felt sure that I needed to get out of there before I embarrassed myself further.
I leaned forward to retrieve the file folder I’d brought with me, so I could slink out of there right away, but he stopped me.
“I have to say that I’m surprised you came in to see me,” he said, and I reluctantly sat back in my chair.
“Your father, God rest his soul, always believed that borrowing money was akin to usury.” Bridger grinned at that as if it were an old joke that he’d heard—and told—too many times to count.
“And I’ll tell you the same thing I would have told him and that’s…
why the hell didn’t you come see me sooner? ”
I coughed, looking at him in surprise. “Excuse me?”
Instead of answering me, he said, “Tell me about this trail ride program of yours.”
I had nothing to lose, so I spent the next several minutes telling him about our plans to restart the program and everything we’d been doing to get ready for it so far. When I finished, he had a smile on his face.
“I remember the one you and Frank had years ago. In fact, my wife took our granddaughters on one of those rides, and they wouldn’t stop talking about it for weeks. We were sorry to see it stopped, but given the circumstances, it was understandable.”
He meant my parents dying in the plane crash.
When that happened, all the dreams my dad and I had for expansion died, too.
While I was struggling to hold everything together, too much fell by the wayside.
Getting the trail riding program back up would not only mean a fresh source of income, but would also feel like an homage to my parents.
But I still didn’t know where Bridger was going with this conversation.
“I appreciate that, sir. I can’t say I remember your granddaughters specifically, but I’m glad they had a good time. It’s my goal to create fun memories for everyone who signs up. Perhaps they would enjoy a return ride.”
He frowned. “Doubtful. They’re all about giving their mother a heart attack now with whatever boy had caught their fancy this week.
” He shook his head. “But I will do you one better. Cornerstone Bank will give you the loan you are seeking. And once you are up and running, I’ll have my secretary set up a group ride for my staff.
” He snapped his fingers. “One of those…you know. Teambuilding events that everyone is always going on about as a way to boost company morale and encourage socializing. How does that sound?”
“Well, sir, that sounds great.” I sat there for the next thirty minutes while Bridger went over the loan paperwork with me. As we talked, my stomach stopped churning, and by the time the conversation was over, I was eager to sign. “So, there’s no penalty for early or larger payments, correct?”
“None. Your statements will indicate the minimum payment due each month, but you can always pay more. In fact, I’d encourage it. Now, is there anything else you’d like to discuss?”
I shook my head, my thoughts already on the different to-do lists and how much of a dent we could make thanks to the loan. I stood up and reached out to shake his hand. “Thanks again, sir?—”
“Call me Andrew.” He stood up and walked me to the door.
“The funds will be in your account by the end of business day.” He reached into his pocket and handed me a business card.
“My cell phone number is on the back if you ever need anything I can help you with. Our families have both grown up in Poplar Springs and it’s important that we do our best to maintain our legacies for the generations to come. ”
“I agree with you, sir, Andrew, one hundred percent. ”
“Good. I have faith in you, son. You’ve got your father’s heart, and I expect to see great things from you.”
I left the bank feeling worlds more optimistic than I had been when I’d arrived.
Having the bank loan as a fallback would ease a lot of the current strain and help us move forward with our plans…
but at the same time, I thought about my dad calling loans “usury.” Was I potentially creating a problem farther down the road?
I jogged across the street to my truck and before I had the seatbelt fastened, I’d already decided that I would try to proceed without using the bank’s money, keeping the money in my account as an emergency fund to use only if I needed it.
I pulled out into Main Street and immediately got boxed in by a horse drawn cart and a tractor.
Resigned to the slow flow of traffic, I cruised up the quaint street lined with blooming foliage until I could turn off to head home.
I rolled past our town sheriff who was currently giving a sobriety test to someone with a horse and barked out a laugh before giving him a friendly wave.
Poplar Springs might produce some of the finest horses in the west, but it was still a quintessential small town with all its quirks, and I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.