Skies Like These

by Tess Hilmo

  Jade bounded over to Roy’s house as soon as the rain stopped. She was dying to tell him about her plan to have Aunt Elise teach astronomy classes as a way to help his family. She knew it wouldn’t fix the whole problem, but maybe—if they all pitched in—they could help the Parkers get back on their feet.

  As she approached the house, she heard jazz music coming from Mr. Parker’s workshop. Only it wasn’t the perky, light music Mrs. Parker had been dancing to in the kitchen. This jazz riff was entirely different—slow and lingering and dripping with heartache. The door was slightly ajar, so Jade peeked in.

  Mr. Parker was sitting on a red vinyl bar stool. He was leaning against a huge metal box, his eyes closed and his fingers grazing against the metal in a drumming pattern. There was a sadness to that beat that vibrated deep in Jade’s bones. Thrum, drum, thrum. She had never seen a glass kiln before, but she guessed that was what Mr. Parker was leaning against. The one Roy said he should sell.

  Jade began to step away from the door just as Mr. Parker stopped thrumming and looked up.

  “Jade,” he said, pulling his rectangular glasses from the pocket of his ragged brown bathrobe. “It’s nice to see you.” His hair frizzled out from his head like rays from the sun.

  “Sorry to interrupt.”

  “A friend is never an interruption.” Mr. Parker ran his foot along the bottom rung of the bar stool. “I was out here thinking.” His words were soft and wistful and he kept his head down for a stretched-out minute before looking up with a warm smile. “Roy’ll be glad to see you. Feel free to go on inside.”

  Jade left the workshop door, shaking off the sad notes of that jazz song and reminding herself of the reason she had come. Of the good news she had to share. She found Roy on their front steps. “He was out there all night,” Roy said, knowing Jade had come from the workshop. “How’d he look?”

  “Miserable.” Jade sat down next to Roy.

  “It’s my fault. I got on his case again about selling his glassblowing equipment so we could reopen County Hardware.” He pulled at tufts of grass pushing up through a crack in the concrete. “I think I went too far this time.”

  “Why don’t you tell him you were wrong and that you want him to keep it after all?”

  Roy sucked in a slow, deep breath and eased it out. “I should,” he said. “I know I should. But between the kiln and the annealer—not to mention all of his tools—he’s probably got ten thousand dollars worth of stuff in there.”

  Jade guessed ten thousand dollars would go pretty far toward helping the family out.

  “Part of me wants him to sell it and the other part is afraid if he does sell it, I’ll feel like pond scum for the rest of my life.” He went back to picking at the grass.

  “I have a plan to make some money.”

  Roy’s head popped up. “Go on.”

  Jade spelled out how Aunt Elise was going to teach classes and how she was going to try to bake treats. “At fifteen dollars a person, we’d only need three hundred and thirty-five students to make over five thousand dollars!”

  “You did that math in your head?”

  “I’m pretty good at numbers.”

  “Good,” Roy said, “run these. How many people do you think will fit on top of Elise’s roof?”

  “Twenty at a time,” Jade said.

  “Try ten. It’s small and, even though there’s a ledge, you still need to be careful. Dead students don’t pay their bills.”

  “Fine. Ten it is. Aunt Elise is going to print up the flyers and make us a list of where I can drop them off all over Wellington. You can help me take them around.”

  “Hold your horses,” Roy said. “Let’s figure this out. Say you’re able to book one class a week. That’s ten students times fifteen dollars times four days a month…”

  “That’s six hundred dollars a month!”

  “You are good at numbers,” Roy said. “Now, how many months does Wyoming have fair weather?”

  Jade hadn’t considered the weather. “I don’t know.”

  “I do,” Roy said. “It’s five. Five months out of the year when we don’t have snow or ice. That’s not accounting for the summer storms. They can be pretty bad and, at the start of summer, it rains quite a bit. No one will be standing on the roof looking at the sky if it’s pouring outside. Count those in as one weekend a month, for safety’s sake. What does that give us?”

  Jade worked the math. “One hundred and fifty dollars times three lessons a month times five months out of the year…”

  Roy finished her thought. “I count that in the neighborhood of twenty-two hundred dollars. And that’s after a whole year! We have until September first before our lease ends and the owner rents the space to some other business. Not even two lousy months!”

  Jade knew Roy was right. “But Aunt Elise was so excited about teaching the classes.”

  “Have her do it. It’ll help some and, along with my plans…”

  “I told you, Roy, I am not robbing a bank!”

  “Who knows what we’ll do,” Roy said. “But either way, I’m full of ideas. You see, I was exploring Farley’s ranch just before sunrise this morning.”

  “Spying?”

  “Let’s call it reconnaissance. He had this sign up on his front gate saying he was looking for ranch hands.”

  Jade’s eyes went wide. “You want to work for Farley? What kind of pay is he offering?”

  “It’s not about the pay,” Roy said, “though that would be a bonus. It’s about getting inside his place and continuing our investigation and maybe even working some Butch Cassidy magic in the process.”

  Jade lost her breath. “Are you suggesting we steal from him? That’s insane!”

  “Did Robin Hood steal, Jade?”

  “Yes!”

  Roy slumped down, put his hands over his face, and let out a frustrated moan. “You don’t get it,” he said. “Kip Farley is the thief. He comes into town with his neon signs, double-wide parking spaces, and patio furniture at ridiculously low prices and little by little steals the heart and soul out of the town we love.” Roy tempered his voice, making it steady and strong. “It is exactly like the big cattle barons back in Butch’s day that came in and did everything they could to squeeze the lifeblood out of the local ranchers. Farley is like the railroads and cattle companies and crooked politicians. We might as well be living in 1885! And do you know what Butch did to those cattle ranchers? He went to work for them. He learned how they operated, what their secrets were. Then he swiped the cattle right out from under their noses.”

  “It’s a bad idea, Roy. Kip Farley doesn’t have any secrets. He’s probably just a regular guy who happened to open a big business in a small town.”

  “Don’t be so naïve. There must be some way to bring him down, or at least shake up his business enough to give our store another shot.” He stood up. “I’m going in.”

  11

  Kip Farley’s house sat behind a tall wooden fence. Jade could see the Spanish-tile roof poking over the top, but everything else was hidden behind those beige pine slats.

  “Last chance to change your mind,” Jade said as they stood at the main gate.

  Roy shook his head. “We’re just going to talk to him, see what kind of work he needs done.”

  “No way.” Jade stepped back. “You’re going to talk to him. I’m only here for moral support.”

  Roy walked to the edge of the gate, peered between two slats, stepped back, and then turned and walked to the opposite edge.

  He had been doing that for twenty minutes: pacing, peering, pacing.

  “Come on,” Jade said, “let’s go home.”

  “I told you I’m going in.”

  “Sure you are.”

  Roy went back to pacing. Jade sat on the curb and thought about Philly. How she might have gone to Franklin Square with her friends by now, or had banana milk shakes with her parents at Nifty Fifty’s. She looked up at Roy. “We’ve been sitting here forever. You’re not go
ing anywhere near that house and we both know it.”

  That did it. Roy clamped down his jaw, reached out, and opened the gate.

  There was a curved brick path leading up to the house. At the top of the path was a rottweiler, tied to a porch rail with a rope. As Jade and Roy stepped through the gate, the dog went berserk, pulling at his rope and exploding into a fit of barking teeth.

  All of which brought Kip Farley to his front door.

  Jade pulled Roy back. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Roy shook off her grip and walked forward. Jade followed, trying to pretend the dog wasn’t even there. The blood was hammering through her veins. Every inch of her skin felt prickly, but she forced her feet to press forward. It took everything she had. As they neared the front porch, Kip Farley looked at the dog and said, “Quiet.” The dog snapped his mouth shut and dropped down on the red-tiled floor of the porch.

  Roy extended his hand and said, “Roy Parker. This here is my friend Jade. She’s new to Wellington.”

  Looking at Kip Farley, Jade decided he was everything she expected from Wyoming. Tall and broad, wearing a wide Stetson hat and a proper bolo tie. His eyes were like blue silk and his smile was smooth as polished marble.

  “I’m Elise Bennett’s niece and I’m just visiting,” Jade corrected.

  Kip Farley shook Roy’s hand and then reached out to Jade, taking her hand in his two strong palms, sandwich-like. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Just Visiting.” There was an easiness about him that surprised Jade, a warm hospitality that stood in stark contrast to the tall fence and fierce rottweiler.

  “We saw your sign about needing ranch hands and came to apply,” Roy said.

  Kip Farley tilted his head. “A bit young to be looking for work, aren’t you?”

  “Twelve is old enough and we’re good workers.”

  Kip leaned sideways, toward Jade. “This little cowboy’s all business, isn’t he?”

  She folded her arms. “I told him we shouldn’t come.”

  Kip Farley worked his fingers through a ring of keys hanging from his belt loop. They clink-clinked against each other like ice cubes in a glass. “No, no. I’m glad you did. Good workers are hard to find and I’ve never been one to hold a man’s age against him.”

  “What’s the work and when can we start?” Roy asked.

  “There’s no need to rush headlong into those discussions. Why don’t we take a load off and wet our whistles before we get into that bag of nails.” His cowboy talk rolled off his tongue in waves and lilts.

  Roy looked so proud you would have thought he’d been crowned rodeo king.

  “We’re not thirsty,” Jade said.

  “You got root beer?” Roy asked.

  Kip Farley’s smile widened. “I got whatever you need.” He placed a hand on Roy’s back and started ushering him into the house.

  “He’ll take it out here,” Jade piped in. “On the porch.” She pulled Roy over to her side.

  “All right, I see who’s in charge,” Kip Farley said. He called out “Anita!” and an old woman in an apron came to the door. “One root beer,” he requested. The woman nodded and disappeared into the shadows behind the screen. A moment later, she reappeared with a dark brown bottle on a tray. She set the tray down on a side table and went back inside. Roy wrapped his hand around that bottle and eyed it, then eased on a smile, and took a long drink.

  “Real refreshment for a real cowboy,” Farley said.

  Roy pushed a shoulder back and raised his chin.

  “The work I have around here is basic ranch care, but if you prove yourself I’d consider allowing you to work your way up to some horse wrangling. Are you interested?”

  “Am I!”

  Jade knew it was over. Wrangling horses was the one thing Joshua “Roy” Parker would never be able to resist. Whatever wrangling was.

  “I’d like you to start the day after tomorrow, around ten in the morning.” Then he turned to Jade. “Will you be joining him?”

  “I’m only going to be here for a few weeks and I’m supposed to be helping my aunt over at her dog ranch, but I’d like to try.”

  “That’s fine, you come when you can.” Farley turned back to Roy. “It seems we have a deal.”

  “Yes, sir,” Roy said, taking Farley’s hand and working it up and down, up and down like he was pumping for oil. “It seems we do.”

  “I’ll look forward to seeing you both, then.” Farley tugged on his hat once more and went back inside.

  Jade followed Roy down the walk.

  “What was that?” she asked when the gate was shut behind them.

  Roy shoved Jade’s shoulder. “That was you spoiling a prime opportunity to look inside Farley’s house. We were so close!”

  “He gave me the creeps—all smooth and glossy with that deep voice, calling you a cowboy. I can’t believe you fell for it.”

  “Excuse me, but I am a cowboy. Besides, you’re forgetting that it’s all part of my master plan. I got a paying job, another way into Farley’s world, and a cold root beer to wet my whistle.”

  “What do you mean another way?”

  “Even a city girl like you has to know there’s more than one way to skin a cat. I’m playing Farley like a campfire fiddle.” He moved his arms through the air like he was working a violin.

  “I don’t know. I somehow get the feeling that he’s the one playing you.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Roy poked a thumb toward the fence. “That went precisely as I had planned. Now you’ve got to promise me you won’t go shootin’ your mouth off about us working for Farley.”

  “Why not?”

  “Parents are nosy by nature and I need some space to work my magic. Do you promise?”

  “I don’t know if I can keep a secret like this.”

  “Come on, Jade. Open up to some real adventure.”

  The way Roy said the word real made Jade suspicious. “Why would you say that?”

  “Trust me on this one,” Roy said.

  Jade shielded her eyes and looked up at the sun tucked behind thick, downy clouds. “I better head back to the dog ranch. Aunt Elise will be wondering where I am.”

  “Okay, but meet me in front of my house at one tomorrow,” Roy said. “I’ve got to run some errands with my mom in the morning and then I want to show you a few things.”

  12

  As she had promised, Jade met Roy at one. He led her through the twisted streets of Wellington and right up to what was left of his dad’s store, County Hardware. It sat at the end of a long, narrow parking lot, next to the bright orange Harold’s Hot Dog Shack. Something about the words Summer is here! Pop in and get your pansies swirling across the front window in blue-and-green paint made Jade sad. It reminded her of the time, in second grade, when she walked into Classic Skate for Randi Waterford’s eighth-birthday party, only to find a wide and empty room. She had stood there trying to will the pink-and-white polka-dotted present to stop trembling in her hands as the pimply-faced teenager behind the counter told her mother the party had been the day before.

  That was how this felt—like the Parkers’ store was all dressed up for a party that wasn’t going to happen.

  “There was a time when this parking lot would get packed with cars. We’d put our vegetable starts and potting soil out there by the front doors in the spring and swap them for bags of salt and ice melt in the winter.” It was like Roy was showing Jade around his bedroom, getting all sentimental about the shopping carts and chipped-up paint on the front curb.

  When they were standing in front of an electronic keypad on the side of a sliding metal door, Roy said, “Let’s hope they haven’t changed the code on us yet.” He punched in six numbers, followed by the pound key. The door shuddered and started rolling up, click, click, clacking the whole way. When it jerked to a stop and the puffs of dust cleared from the air, Roy stepped inside. He stood in the middle of the storeroom, hands proudly on his hips, surveying the mostly empty shelves that lined the wall
s.

  “Isn’t it grand?”

  Jade noticed two dusty toilets and a tower of bricks in the corner. “Sure.”

  “This isn’t even the best part.” Roy walked over and pushed a wide, swinging door open. Jade followed him into the main store area. Sun was streaming in the front windows, illuminating a blue-and-gold mosaic-tile pattern in the floor. Roy ran the point of his boot along the edge of one of the tiles. “My dad put this floor in all by himself.” He walked over to a counter, which had two cash registers. “And we replaced this countertop last year—I got to pick out the stone. See how it has these gold flecks in it? The building owner let us do whatever improvements we wanted. It was like our own place.”

  Jade patted the countertop. “It’s real nice, Roy.”

  He turned, leaned his back against the counter, and looked out across the expanse of the room. To Jade it looked like old shelves half-spotted with boxes and clearance signs but she knew it looked like paradise to Roy.

  “Did I ever tell you about what happened to Butch Cassidy when he was a little older than us—only thirteen years old?”

  “You know?” It was a silly question. Of course he knew.

  “He went by the name Roy back then and his family lived in Beaver, Utah. One day, he rode into town to talk to the shop owner about buying some overalls. He was hoping to strike a good bargain. When he got to the general store, it was closed. He could have come back another day, but it was a long ride into town and he was kept pretty busy on his family’s ranch. So he decided to let himself in and leave a written IOU note in exchange for the pants. He left his real name and everything!”

  “That sounds fair enough,” Jade said, though she wondered what her local grocery store manager might think if she helped herself to a case of Oreo cookies and left an IOU note. Maybe he wouldn’t mind, but she doubted it.

  Roy went on. “When the store owner came in the next day, he saw the note and called the sheriff. Without even talking to Butch!”

  “Who went by Roy at the time,” Jade clarified.

  “Right.”

  Jade shook her head.

  “Back in those days, a person’s word was their bond. Butch Cassidy never made a promise he didn’t keep. He had every intention of coming back and working out a fair deal for those pants, but folks never gave him a chance to make it right. They wrote him off as some crazy thief and filed charges. They didn’t even try to understand him. That was the beginning of it all for Butch.”