“Hello, Mom!” the young blond sing-songed gaily, before moving to stand behind Jamie’s chair. “Hello, honey-buns,” she said, dropping a loud kiss on the top of his head.
He could smell alcohol, but he wasn’t much surprised. “I thought you were working tonight, Tracey.”
“Well, I was, but they didn’t need extra help after all. So they sent me home.”
“Extra help, my ass. They sent you home for coming to work lit again, didn’t they?” he ground out.
Tracey’s blue eyes instantly flooded with tears. “What an awful thing to say, James. You’re so rotten to me sometimes, I could just... die!”
Diana stepped in quickly, taking the girl by the shoulders. “Tracey can help me with the dishes a while.” Jamie nodded tensely and stood.
“Where is he going?” Tracey demanded, sniffling now and wiping at her eyes with her fists ridiculously like a scolded child.
“He has to finish up with planting the back field before it rains. It’s not too wet to get in, is it James?”
He grabbed a baseball cap and a flannel shirt from the coat rack. “No, it’s low down there in the meadow, but I should be fine. It’s been a few days since the last shower, I’m sure it’s dry enough.”
“Good, because you know how Dad always wanted the corn planted by-”
“Yeah, I know, by the end of May.” As Diana herded Tracey to the sink, Jamie stepped out the back door, feeling both guilty and relieved in the same moment. He might be taking up some slack for old Max, but his mother sure took a shitload for him. He’d talk to her about it later. Something had to be done about Tracey. She was getting worse.
Jamie ambled to the barn, soaking up the warm evening rays of fuzzy sunlight, lifting his face into the mellow breeze. The air was soft, scented with lilacs and freshly mowed grass.
God, he loved the four, even seasons that Pennsylvania had to offer, with the earth forever changing, sprouting, growing, and ripening. Then with a final sigh, putting itself to sleep, ever so gently, and the great mounds of snow that covered the fields and mountains in a crisp, ivory blanket. He wouldn’t trade his home for anything, not even for an island paradise in the Caribbean.
Hopping on the tractor, Jamie put it in gear and backed up to the corn planter. He just had a few things to straighten out, to put his life in order, to get his ducks in a row. Work would be his life, he reasoned, and the thought of love and romance only made him snicker.
Best not to even dally with the idea, he’d blown that option, screwed things up royally. One mistake. But fuck was it was a whopper. And lately, it seemed the consequences were never-ending.
Sighing, Jamie aimed the tractor toward the back field, noting the way the sun had dipped in the west, steady on course for its final, golden descent. He had about an hour and a half before the shadows grew too thick to see clearly. Enough time to finish up anyway.
His father would have been elated at the prospect, breaking out the blackberry brandy as soon as he’d tucked the planter away for the season, a Michael Sheldon tradition. The family would have raised their glasses and toasted to a good harvest ahead. Now, finishing only left Jamie with a hollow feeling in his gut, like he hadn’t eaten in awhile, and his insides were turning in on themselves.
Jamie allowed his muscles to relax, and adsorb the vibration of the steady diesel engine beneath him. It had a soothing effect, something like a pacifier, he mused. After all, he’d been pushing toy tractors around, put-put-put, since he was old enough to crawl.
He laughed a little, remembering how his Dad had told him that after he’d hit four, he’d only touch the green tractors, and that they’d have to say John Deere on the side, or he’d have absolutely none of it. There’d been nothing but Deere tractors on the farm since.
His thoughts invariably turned to Alexandra Winters, and he wondered for the thousandth time what she was all about. What she was up to, to be exact. There was obviously something floating around in her head other than feathers, and it sure had him wondering.
Curiosity killed the cat, he thought wryly, but shrugged his shoulders anyway. He’d pay her one more visit. It was the neighborly thing to do, after all.
~~~~~~
Alex pushed the wheelbarrow full of woodchips into the stall, dumped it carefully, and then tried to back out again without whacking herself on something hard. She was already one big bruise. She wondered if clumsiness ran in her genes, like a deep, dark family secret that everyone had hidden from her, in the desperate hopes that it had skipped a generation. She maneuvered, squeezed, and cajoled, finally making it out safely.
The damn stall doors were too narrow, and they definitely called for widening in the future. A large animal could catch a hip or shoulder on the rough wood easily, not to mention a lowly human as accident-prone as she was.
She paused for a moment, analyzing, and blew the hair off of her forehead with a forceful breath. A randy yearling colt could smash a person up against the doorjamb if he had mind to as well.
“Excuse me.”
The man’s voice shot her up in the air a foot, and she whirled around with a gasp.
“Sorry miss. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Who are you?” she voiced firmly, irked that she was so startled, and this guy was definitely up in her space. He was a tall man, with blondish hair peppered with a smatter of grey, carefully combed and parted in a neat little wave. He had on a business suit, an expensive one, she noted with a trained eye. Her eyes dropped to Italian loafers, which were now coated with a fine mist of sawdust, and she self-consciously brushed off her own dusty jeans.
“I’m Brian Ridgeway,” he responded with a smooth smile, and extended his hand. Alex took it suspiciously, it would have been rude not to, but now she had a good idea what the man was up to.
She’d visited Ezra in the hospital again only yesterday. Ridgeway at ya yet, girl? She’d looked at him funny at the time, but the old guy sure had been right on target.
Ridgeway noticed her eyes harden and lifted his eyebrows. Alex just stared, figuring his opinion of her manners really didn’t matter much, since her days of kissing suited butts at the law firm were over anyway. She had no one to please but herself, and her future customers.
“Ms. Winters?” he prompted.
“Yes, I’m the ‘lady of the house’,” she snapped. “I know why you are here and that you want to buy my land.”
“Well. Right to the point then. Yes, Ridgeway Incorporated has been trying to purchase this piece of property for some time.” He looked around dubiously. “And since you don’t have much invested in the property so far, and it will take a great sum of money to turn this farm into a functional and self-supporting enterprise, I figured it would serve the both of us well to do business as soon as possible.”
“Save your breath.”
“I could make it profitable for you, Ms. Winters. Say, double your investment, perhaps?”
“I’m not interested in the money,” she countered, wondering at the words even as she said them. “Money makes the world go round, Alex. And not just money, but gold.” Richard’s voice was running through her head again. It was eerily chilling this time.
“Perhaps you could be enticed into selling just the forested land then. That’s all our company is truly interested in anyway.” Ridgeway flicked a non-existent piece of dirt from his cuff.
“My business will involve trail riding, Mr. Ridgeway. I’ll need plenty of space for that, including my piece of the mountain.”
“Call me Brian.” When Alex just stared, he cleared his throat. “Ms. Winters, there are thousands of additional acres in these parts that are open to riding. Thousands. And furthermore, after our logging operation is finished, you’d be welcome to use the land for riding. We’d be making a select cut, with minimal damage to the surrounding areas, minimal erosion, minimal habitat destruction...” He trailed off and smiled disarmingly. “Your response is?”
“Why are you so interested in this part
icular piece of property?”
“Well, there is some prime, mature hardwood on this land, and it hasn’t been logged in... well, quite some time. Several generations of the Wilkens family didn’t believe in it, I guess. But studies show that select cutting is actually beneficial to wildlife habitat, if done correctly, and I assure you-”
“Just how much money are you talking about?” It wouldn’t hurt to have a figure, she mused. Richard had taught her to carefully consider all options when making a monetary decision.
“Well, the wooded portion of the property we’re interested in is, oh, roughly four hundred and fifty acres. Would two thousand an acre suffice? That’s a more than generous offer, considering the average property values around here are barely a thousand dollars an acre for wooded land.”
Alex looked at him steadily. He was offering her nearly a million dollars for only the logging rights to a piece of steep, forested land. Brian Ridgeway met her gaze evenly and smiled. He didn’t seem to be pulling one over on her. And Jesus, with that kind of money, she would have her retirement sealed. After all, she wouldn’t lose her riding privileges.
Alex thought about the huge trees that she had stumbled open while she was hiking, how she had been both awestruck and enchanted. Those giant old-growth virgin trees were definitely worth a pretty penny, and Ridgeway knew it. But were they really worth that much?
She narrowed her eyes. “Well, I’d want at least three thousand an acre. But that’s not an offer yet. I have to think about it.”
Ridgeway’s smile broadened. “Three thousand is high, but it’s a start anyway. Talking with Mr. Wilkens always proved to be infinitely... difficult.”
Alex surprised herself with a laugh. “That’s Ezra.”
“Nice animal, by the way.”
Turning, she remembered that she had left her most recent purchase standing in the cross-ties she had rigged up in the aisle way. Bold Venture was a chestnut Quarterhorse stallion with excellent bloodlines and an impressive show record to back him up. He had cost her a tidy sum of twenty-five thousand dollars. The ironically fitting name was just a bonus. She hoped to make her investment back with his first few crops of foals.
“He’s quiet,” Ridgeway added.
“He has great manners for a stallion. He’s just a big teddy bear. The next step is to find a couple of suitable broodmares,” she explained at his continued perusal.
“Well, if you need money to invest in your establishment, you know who to call.” He handed her his card with a wink, which she stuck in her pocket without looking at it.
He smiled smoothly, but it didn’t reach his eyes at all.
“Good day, Ms. Winters.” With the unemotional smile still intact, he departed.
Shaking her head, Alex returned Bold Venture to his newly made stall, vowing to repair enough of the fencing by Saturday so that the stallion could get out and kick up his heels a little. A large male equine’s good temperament only lasted so long in cramped quarters.
She spent the remainder of the afternoon cleaning out the barn, sweeping cobwebs from the upper beams, measuring, rigging up saddle racks and repairing damaged stall boards. By the time she finished, and emerged into the sunny, late afternoon sky, she was covered from head to toe in dust and grime.
Alex knew at that moment what a horse felt like after rolling itself in a patch of warm, flaky soil- like every little itch had been thoroughly scratched. She felt glorious and... capable.
Putting her tools away, (tools!- would you believe, an honest-to-goodness set consisting of a hammer and nails, screwdrivers, drills, bits and saws), which she had used successfully, she then made a bee-line for the shower.
The house itself was another whole project. Its redecorating and repair had fallen far by the wayside, for she had made the decision to get the business end up and running before she could dedicate time for refurbishing.
Alex had cleaned up her bedroom and the upstairs bathroom, bringing in a new bed, dresser, and nightstand ensemble, plus a few other odds and ends. She had decided to keep the old claw foot tub. It was an antique and still in excellent condition.
The downstairs was yet another matter. She’d had the gumption to box up Ezra’s remaining odds and ends, but not much more. The ancient-looking television set still worked somewhat, but it didn’t really matter because she had no cable line at the house anyway. She needed to call about that.
Sometime in the future, she would rip out the old carpet, and refinish the hardwood flooring. Then she could replace the wallpaper with a warm coat of paint and bring in some furniture that was a little more contemporary and to her taste.
Her shower was just the right medicine to revive her, and give her a healthy second wind. Alex whistled her way into the kitchen and popped the top on a Diet Coke. She bent further into the fridge, looking for some of the goodies that remained from Diana Sheldon’s visit.
Clip, clang, clip. Alex cocked her head, listening. It was definitely the sound of aluminum horse shoes on the recently-laid gravel in her driveway. Could Bold Venture have broken out of his stall already? She envisioned the twenty-five thousand dollar check that she had written only that morning, and a rush of adrenaline sent her bolting through the living room and literally flying out the front door.
She connected solidly with another body, and would have fallen in a heap at its feet, but for the strong hands that gripped her above her elbows, pulling her upright. Alex squinted upwards, but her eyes must have been slightly crossed, for everything was blurry. She really hit hard.
“Wow. What a sweet welcome, Lovey! Except for the bruising.”
Alex groaned, recognizing the voice immediately. “Oh, Christ, I should have known it was you.” She rubbed her forehead and managed a glare in the general direction of Jamie Sheldon’s face, but when her vision cleared, she found herself glowering at a dapple-gray horse face. The mare’s ears were pricked forward curiously and she blew softly through her nostrils.
“It takes a lot to spook Lilah,” Jamie murmured. “Although something that fierce of a she-glare just might do it.”
“I was aiming for you, James,” Alex sputtered, “but you knocked my balance off.”
“Can you stand on your own now, perhaps?”
With a flush of embarrassment, Alex realized she was hanging on him heavily. She pushed herself backward, slapping at the hands that were now resting casually on her hips. “Don’t tell me this is just a neighborly visit,” she grumbled irritably.
The events of the previous Friday, of her stupid, imbecilic reactions washed over her then, and stuck like a bramble vine. Her flush deepened.
Jamie cleared his throat. “I heard through the grapevine that you were entering the horse business. Seeing as we are, in fact, neighbors, I was wondering if I could get your professional opinion of my mare here.”
Horses were her weakness. Turning her eyes to the animal, Alex surveyed her carefully, walking a full circle around the quietly waiting creature. It gave her a moment to compose herself. “She’s a nicely built Quarterhorse. Does she have papers?”
“Yes. She’s out of the Doc Bar line.”
“Oh, that’s excellent.” She knelt, examining the animal’s legs and hooves for any defects. Finding none, she rose and nodded. “Nice animal. She’s a bit long in the back, but that’s no big deal. What’s her training background?”
“Not a whole lot of any one thing. I use her mostly for riding trail. She’s capable of a whole lot more, though. I don’t have the kind of time for her that I would like to.”
“Very few horses reach even half of their potential. That’s a fact of life.”
“Just like people, wouldn’t you say?”
Alex looked at him sharply, and then willed her body to relax. “Yes, you’re exactly right,” she replied casually. He was standing there with his thumbs in his belt loops, regarding her with a lazy smile and those steady, baby blues. For an instant, he reminded her of the stallion in the barn, hard, lean, and full of an ea
sy self-confidence.
Oh, Jesus Christ, Alex. You’re losing it, here. She broke her gaze away from his person, and noticed that Lilah was carrying a matching pair of large saddlebags. “Going on an overnight, James?” she questioned.
“I’m Jamie to my friends and neighbors, by the way. And no, those bags are simply full of good food. I’m looking for some company, actually. I’m in the mood for a picnic.”
He chuckled at her bewildered look. “It was my mother’s idea, but what the hell. She’s a great cook.”
The words ‘I’m busy’ formed on her lips, but Bold Venture whinnied from within the confines of his stall before she could utter them. It had been so long since she had ridden freely, and the mellow skies promised a beautiful evening ahead. She sighed. “I think Bold Venture has answered for me.”
“Bold Venture?”
“He’s a stallion I just acquired for the farm.”
“Which you’ve named Eden Ranch?” Jamie had obviously noticed the newly installed sign post at the entrance to her long driveway.
Alex broke into a hesitant smile. “Yeah. It’s a long story how that came about. I’ll explain it to you on the way.”
“Ok, I’m all ears.” He grinned back at her.
Alex looked at him with new interest. He was so different from Richard, or from any other man or woman she had known. In younger years, her only opportunities for trail riding had been in scattered wood lots and remaining open fields of the suburbs. This would be a new experience for certain.
~~~~~~~
Jamie followed Alexandra into the barn, and watched in comfortable silence while she saddled Bold Venture quickly and efficiently. The stallion fidgeted with restless anticipation, goaded on by the feel of the saddle on his back and the scent of the warm gray mare in his nostrils.
“This is going to make his day,” Alex murmured with a chuckle, as she slipped the bit into his mouth and fastened the throatlatch and noseband with deft fingers. “Mine too, actually. I’d all but forgotten what this feels like.”
Waiting For Eden (Eden Series) Page 8