Rich Love

by Zoe Adams

  There had been winters where eight feet of snow had drifted over the shelters. Building the bison these stretches of shelter had been a small price to pay. As tough as the buffalo were, their legs were still short, and anything Susanna could to do prevent them getting stuck in snowdrifts was done.

  The weather was always a risk, and animals having enough food throughout a storm was a big concern. Susanna had remedied that problem by filling large bins with hay where the animals could feed from the bottom. There was usually enough hay to keep feeding the bison for a maximum of four days.

  That was just one more convenient thing about the ranch. It was all still connected by roads, and she could usually get to her animals in a matter of minutes. Some days she would plow a road all day, and get to her animals on the next day, but she always got there.

  She checked the water supply. She checked the fences. The bisons’ needs were an ever-present and fluctuating demand. Susanna always tried to stay a step ahead of the animals.

  The morning crept into noon, and she had circled back around to the stables. She could smell the charcoal grill, well before it was seen.

  She smiled at herself. That was one thing she could always count on. Her uncle was standing over the smoky pit when Susanna rode by on her horse.

  “Hi, Uncle Joe,” she called out as she approached the older man who was always cheerful. “Looks like I’m right on time.”

  “Of course you are.” He spoke with a wide smile that always left his dentures clicking. “The bratwursts are almost done.”

  “I’ll be right there, after I put Big Chief in the corral,” she said without stopping.

  “I know how long it takes you to put the horse away,” he said. “I guess I’ll see you in an hour, then.”

  Even with her back to Uncle Joe, she still knew he was teasing with a glint in his eyes.

  “Hey, I don’t take that long.” Susanna looked over her shoulder with a grin.

  Uncle Joe got a brilliant look on his face. “Why don’t you have one of your employees brush down your horse?”

  “I can do that?” Susanna teased him with a dumb look.

  He stood up straighter and grinned. “I know. It’s funny how I help you solve so many problems. It’s like I just solved the mystery of life or something.”

  They both laughed at his reasons of pride, and Susanna was nearing the stable. She could take his teasing. It was well founded in truth.

  Uncle Joe was almost a bigger staple to the ranch than the bison. He didn’t have an official job or title, but he was irreplaceable for morale. With him around, everyone was kept on an even keel, and things ran on a relatively smooth course.

  Uncle Joe had been at the ranch for twenty years. Other employees came and went, and they all called him Uncle Joe. He knew how things were supposed to be done. He was her right-hand-man. She trusted him to mediate her wishes with the employees, as well as furnish stability on the grounds.

  Susanna took the advice of the old sage and left her horse with a stable-hand. It was unusual for her. She usually maintained her own horse. It was one of those things that gave her a good feeling of accomplishment. It kept her in tune with working for success, and she had been chasing the dragon with relish.

  She walked out of the barn and looked out across the quad. Less than five years ago, this land had held nothing but a small farmhouse and large barn. Now the original buildings blended in with a mish-mash of old and new homes, shops, and trailers. The little community was shaped in a square horseshoe, and the road went right up the gut.

  Uncle Joe lived in the small farmhouse that had originally come with the plot of land. His house was officially the un-official meeting place of the work hands, and he had done much to make it a convenient place for people to gather.

  The yard was bordered by two large oak trees. Underneath the trees there was enough seating and tables for thirty, if not more, people. The ground had been flattened and poured with concrete. A wall of the house blocked most of the wind from the north, leaving the patio free to receive east to west sunlight throughout the day. Large posts held up a sturdy wooden skeleton. Laced along and through the beams was an assortment of lanterns and lights. Large blue tarps covered the entire space and made the lighting a cool, bright blue. There was a square of grass tentatively cushioning the outer edge just past the grill.

  Other respective items like a refrigerator, bar, and hot-tub flanked functional places in the outside meeting place.

  Susanna loved what her uncle had done with the place. Other employees were fixing up their yards as well. The little community was starting to look like a cowboy’s country club. It may have been built with every day or cheap materials, but there was no way the shelters would blow away or break in the fifty mile an hour winds that beat the grasslands flat.

  Uncle Joe was just sitting down at the picnic table with a plate.

  Susanna walked to the outdoor sink and washed her hands. At the grill she filled her plate. She recognized the buffalo sausages as those of her uncle’s making, and had to remark on it.

  “What did you put in the sausages this time?” Susanna said with a smile on her face.

  “I won’t tell you until after you try them,” he said before taking a bite of food.

  Susanna looked up from the bar. “In that case, I might need a drink to go along with it.”

  She poured a frosty tap for herself, then picked up her plate and sat down across from her uncle.

  “You look different today. Did you sleep in or something?” Uncle Joe took a bite of his food, but his eyes never left Susanna’s face.

  Susanna thought of her early morning upset. Calling it to the front of her mind caused her to start fidgeting. She realized it had been rather traumatic to see someone involved in a deer accident, and played on that aspect, instead of the dark on dark eyes that were currently distracting her.

  She relayed the accounts from her fair and un-judgmentally balanced mind. Telling the story out loud helped her gain perspective on the man who had wrecked into her life. He had seemed quite confident about the outcome, and Susanna’s pride closed off a little piece of something inside her.

  She was ready to forget about Royce by the time she was done with the story.

  Uncle Joe looked at her jokingly. “It sounds like you made a friend for life.”

  Susanna rolled her eyes. “I have a feeling he already has enough friends.”

  “I am sure he will call you.” Uncle Joe laughed at her. “He thinks he hit the jackpot. His friends can clean up a motorcycle wreck, and a woman can take care of the wounded deer. You will fit in with his friends really well.” He laughed at his joke. “He’s going to love how hard you work.”

  Susanna felt her stomach drop. Her uncle had a point, and it helped her forget him.

  She exhaled a heavy breath and pushed her plate away. “It doesn’t matter what he wants. I don’t want to get taken away from the ranch, and I don’t have time for any other sort of partner. I couldn’t imagine leading a different sort of life.”

  “Someday, you might.” Uncle Joe smiled and his teeth clicked again. “But not today. We have to talk about other things.”

  Their talk began to cover the ranch, the whole ranch, and nothing but the ranch. An hour later, Susanna climbed into her truck and drove away.

  She turned back onto the highway and drove the two lane road to her own house. The highway took longer to get home, but the asphalt was smooth, and she didn’t feel like driving through fields and a stream. She turned onto the gravel road that led to the original Hanson homestead.

  The road went on forever, and after rounding multiple bends, a tall slat-board house came into view. The home and its various outbuildings were set up in no discernible order, but they comprised a very large, well-cared-for, and isolated homestead. The road widened and stopped in front of the house.

  The rumbling beast of a truck was backed under a partially protected carport that hugged the house. The day was more than ha
lf over, but there was still a mental list of chores needing to be done.

  Susanna worked outside for as long as she could. She knew if she walked into her quaint and comfortable home she would not want to walk back out. There were always things that needed to be done on the ranch, but they came in their own order. New things to do were always unveiled as paths were crossed and things were done.

  She finally walked into her house at about six. She slumped against the sink and washed her hands under an antique copper faucet. A visit to the medicine cabinet produced an aged bottle of whiskey. The refrigerator door lit up the quaint kitchen. There was no hesitation as she stacked a dinner tray with steak, potato, and pie. Susanna’s hands were completely full when she walked out the kitchen door.

  The old home was a necessary luxury, but the summerhouse across the field was all Susanna. She had built open sky rooms that were the stuff of fairytales. Wooden poles were buried deeply in concrete. Pulleys of white tarps and mosquito netting were pulled taut or not, depending on the harshness of the winds.

  A wide fireplace, barely showing any age, was the prominent fixture of the piazza. The dinner tray was set on a table, whose legs were permanently stuck in the ground.

  Susanna crossed to a private corner of gauze. A claw-foot tub was hiding behind lace and potted plants. A metal slide was placed under the spigot, and water began sliding into the bath. She lit the propane burners that heated its belly, and left for her next task.

  She started a fire and fed it pine boughs. It began to greedily ingest its offerings. A few candles were lit before she finally kicked off her shoes and stripped out of her work clothes. She was exhausted, but knew how to relax and recharge in her rustic home.

  Many items left over from the turn of two centuries adorned the quad. Wooden tables and chairs, an old wrought-iron bed, and other old things made it look like an upscale campground. With a few careful cranks, an old record player that had been made to last forever was carrying tones of Bach. She loved the combination of a civilized orchestra and the sounds of the wind.

  The propane heaters were shut off before sitting in the bathtub, and in that relaxed state, Susanna looked around at the area that did not need one more thing fixed, or adjusted. The room, which was a little too nice, was what she did for fun on the prairie, and she wondered if she would be embarrassed to show Royce.

  Royce. She shook her head and grumbled. Little pieces of him had been interrupting her all day long. The conversation with him had eaten away at her solitude. Talking to a man like Royce had been hard. Walking away from him had been hard, as well. She wondered what it was like to be one of those carefree girls who would beg him to stay with her. Royce was a player. He probably had a stack of a dozen phones he kept wrapped up, numbered, and waiting to give to the next girl.

  She should have turned on her computer while she was in the house and done a little research on him. Right now, she didn’t want to know. Susanna was still trying to warm to the idea of a man in her life and was surprised to find herself intrigued. She was sure if she did a little digging on him, he would somehow condemn himself.

  He was a refreshing change from the usual men who tried to pick her up. He was a gorgeous man, but seemed intelligent as well. Although a hot body was very important, anyone could have one. Susanna was attracted to brain. Her mind went on vacation, and she welcomed the thoughts that didn’t need to be expressed.

  ***

  Royce sat on the perfectly centered couch in front of a healthy fire. He had been thinking about Susanna all day. She had remained completely aloof, if not dead to Royce’s charm. His mind spun a web around all of the reasons why and how he should catch her.

  Royce had a certain appeal to life, and there were very few things beyond his grasp. When he found something he liked, nothing stood in the way, and if it did, it didn’t stand up long. In Royce’s world, anything could be bought, and he was no stranger to burning money.

  He was excited about the possibility of a future with Susanna. He wondered what it would take to earn a hardworking woman’s respect and trust. Many women had tried to seduce him, and he wondered how Susanna could have that effect on him without even trying.

  Royce was a combination of different things. It came with the territory of being a scientist and a very wealthy and sought-after bachelor.

  A door opened behind him. With the addition of two more men in the room, the energy changed to business. Royce pulled his attention from the fire, but remained sitting in his centered seat.

  One of the men stood directly beside the fire and appreciated it. Without turning around he stated simply, “It looks like you have found more than just one reason to stay in this small town.”

  “Oh, come on, Lawrence.” Royce tried to shrug it off as if she were just another girl, but he suspected his face told another story. “I don’t mind new places and new faces.”

  “Yeah, but this one just couldn’t part with her gun the whole time she was in your presence,” George teased from behind them.

  Royce hid his reaction to their words under a grimace as he rolled his sore shoulder. He had already been poked and prodded by the physician before being declared just fine. He was supposed to take it easy for a couple of days, and that was something easier said than done.

  Doing research on Susanna and the economy had given him the perfect excuse to remain seated. It was normal for Royce to be completely informed on all of his possible dates. He had no qualms about doing a background search. He wanted to know what she was doing right now. For a split second, he thought about installing cameras in her home.

  Royce’s assistant Lawrence began reading aloud. “Susanna Hanson Marston, born February fourteenth, 1983; married to Mr. Michael Marston, June eighteenth of 2004. Her husband died of a mysterious heart defect that took six months to diagnose. She has secluded herself on the family ranch since 2012, and turned it into a very prosperous property.”

  Royce lost his cool and started to pace at the new information. He remembered her classy indifference, and a smile was born in his heart.

  The men looked at Susanna’s wedding announcement from the local newspaper, and more than one voice growled in approval. Royce understood the potential reasons why she may be skittish around too many people.

  “I have to seduce that woman, and you guys will need to make yourselves scarce around us.”

  Royce received a few sympathetic looks from his statement. He ignored them and walked over to the security screen that flicked different angles of his house.

  He found the feed from the security cameras mounted on the truck and trailer. He watched the footage of his truck pulling up to the accident. He pressed pause on the feed when Susanna’s truck was on display. His men nodded and grunted appreciatively at the additional chrome headlights and bumper on the truck that was probably older than it looked. Royce switched the view to x-ray. In a snap, the skeletal frame of the truck was exposed.

  Royce pointed to the back seat. “See that? She took out the back seats of the cab, and welded a toolbox. It’s completely customized and looks like it rolled off the assembly line that way.”

  Royce was excited as he continued to look at the various pockets of organization. The men looked at each other nervously, and Royce looked up unexpectedly in time to catch them.

  “This is more important than any other deal. There is a lot to do to make sure our first date is good enough for me.” Royce looked at his watch and remembered it had been broken the moment he met Susanna. He was still going without a timepiece and felt very rushed about replacing it.

  “There’s no way. Can we trust her?” It was a stereotypical response from Lawrence, who acted more like his brother than his lawyer.

  “I guess we’ll just have to find out if we can trust each other.” Royce shifted quickly to address the men. “You guys will need to disappear. She’s as timid as a doe.”

  Lawrence handed over the electronic file created on Susanna. Royce skimmed through the rest of her s
tatistics. It all looked like he had expected, beside the fact that she was older than he had originally thought. He guiltily pushed away from the plethora of information, leaving most of it unread.

  “I’m doing this the old-fashioned way,” he said. The men laughed at him in response, and he added defensively, “Hey, I’m not without my charm.” Royce absently touched his sore shoulder and smiled. “You guys are all excused; I don’t care if I see you for a week.” He had plans for Susanna, and these plans would not involve his men much after the first date.

  Royce had watched Susanna drive off into the sunrise. He had found it hard to let her go, ridiculously so, but he had to. He didn’t want to scare her any more than he was convinced she already was. It had been a brilliant blue and pink sunrise. Every element of his memory of Susanna was intensely satisfying, as he impatiently filled his time.

  All signs pointed to a positive outcome with Susanna; he was determined. Royce had a lot of planning before he would be able to see Susanna again.

  Chapter 3

  Topical Interest

  A cornflower blue sky shone clearly just like many more before it. Susanna’s tidy summer garden had already given up its harvest, and the dark brown beds were tucked in for winter. Heirloom tomatoes and vegetables that were assigned to continue their production throughout winter were dug up and readied for the cold frames.

  Susanna worked late into the morning, cleaning and preparing for the weather to chill. Bickering chickens had plenty of feed, and their little white trophies had been gathered, but three had been dropped in an unusual bout of carelessness.

  She ate a quick lunch meat sandwich and a handful of chips before heading back out to the fields. The tractor sat in the shade, and Susanna circled it once for good measure. She felt more like a farmer than a rancher when she climbed on board and settled in the bouncy seat.