Convincing the Rancher

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Convincing the Rancher Page 6

by Claire McEwen


  With the morning to himself and fury to spare, Slaid got behind the wheel and pulled his truck up to a pile of fence posts he’d purchased a few months ago. It was a good day for a sledgehammer, a posthole digger and a bunch of barbed wire. Loading the heavy wooden posts into the truck felt good. Pounding them into the ground would feel even better.

  A noise had him glancing at the road that led from his ranch over a slight rise and back down to Benson. Jack Baron’s old truck appeared, rattling down the hill. Why such a rich guy drove such a beat-up old farm truck, vintage 1950s, was a mystery to Slaid, but Jack was a little quirky in his taste.

  “Thanks for coming out here,” Slaid said as Jack descended from the creaky vehicle. He’d called his friend late last night, cross-eyed from staring at websites, trying to figure out how to stop the windmills. A few years ago, Jack had led a successful fight to stop a real estate development company from turning one of the most beautiful mountains outside of Benson into an enormous resort. Slaid wanted his opinion on fighting the wind farm. He just hoped that Jack’s marriage to Tess’s friend, Samantha, wouldn’t complicate things.

  “Sounds as if we’ve got a problem on our hands.” Jack glanced toward the truck Slaid had been loading. “And a project. You want some help?”

  “If you’ve got the time to spare, sure.” Slaid went around to the driver’s side and Jack swung up into the passenger seat.

  “These windmills are going to be worse than I thought,” Jack said as they started up the gravel road that led out to Slaid’s farthest pasture. “I knew Tess was here to represent Renewable Reliance, but I had no idea their site was so close to town, or on your land.”

  “Yeah, apparently she forgot to mention that.”

  “She didn’t know either, Slaid. Look, I know you’re pissed. I am, too. But you’ve gotta be pissed at the right people. Tess doesn’t own that company and she doesn’t even want this job. Samantha told me her boss had to twist her arm to get her out here.”

  His gut-churning guilt grew tenfold. Jack didn’t even know the worst of it—that Slaid had pressured Tess to stay in Benson when she’d wanted to go. He let out a long breath. “Yeah, I got that feeling. And I’ll bet Tess said something to Samantha about our argument yesterday. You must think I was pretty hard on her.”

  “Well, she and Samantha talked on the phone a little last night. Tess mentioned that you were pretty angry, but if she was truly upset by what you said, she’d never admit it. Tess doesn’t let on much about her troubles to anyone.”

  Shame combined with the guilt. “Maybe I did take things out on her.” They’d reached the old fence, its posts leaning and rotting, the wire rusted and sagging. Slaid parked the truck and cut the engine. They got out, and he tossed Jack a pair of heavy leather gloves, then pulled on a pair of his own. Once Jack unlatched the tailgate, they started pulling the posts from the back.

  The talk turned to the fence for a few minutes. They pulled the most rotten section out entirely, loading the rusty wire into the truck and carrying the new posts over. Then they set to work digging out a few old posts that were still firmly cemented in the ground.

  “This is crap work, you know.” Jack grinned at him over the shovel. “Don’t you usually pay someone to do this?”

  Slaid slammed his shovel into the hard earth. “Just felt like a little manual labor. When I’ve got a problem to solve, a little sweat and dirt sometimes helps.”

  Jack’s laugh echoed over the quiet hillside. “I know the feeling. I don’t think my ranch was ever in better shape than when Samantha showed up next door. I must have replaced half my fence line that fall. Then I got myself sucked into helping Todd with his crazy wild mustangs, and I even painted Jed and Betty’s barn for them.”

  It was Slaid’s turn to laugh. “Man, you had it bad.”

  They were silent for a moment, chipping away at the unyielding ground. Then Jack spoke. “So if you really want to fight this thing, we could use some outside help. Environmental groups for one. They want green energy but without migrating birds getting injured. They definitely don’t want the Sierras and the wild lands nearby covered in wind turbines.”

  “Okay.” Slaid grunted as he dislodged a chunk of the old concrete with his pickax, the accomplishment giving him a flicker of satisfaction.

  “And we should get the historical society on board. They can make the connection to what’s happened around here in the past.”

  “You mean the water?”

  “Yeah. It makes sense if we spin it right.” Jack jabbed his shovel into the loose dirt left by Slaid’s efforts. “First Southern California steals the water out of the Owens River and just about destroys the Eastern Sierra towns and ranches. Now they’re back, threatening to destroy our last untainted resource—the natural beauty that supports our tourist industry. Just so they can have more power down south.”

  “How do we prove the power is going to Southern California?” Slaid asked, wiping sweat off his forehead with his sleeve.

  “Because I bet when we get a good look at what this project entails, there’s gonna be a lot more power generated than they can sell around here. Trust me, most of it will be going down to LA.”

  “But Renewable Reliance will just say that’s all speculation.”

  Jack’s brows drew together as he considered Slaid’s point. “Well. They’ll have to answer our questions, at any rate. We’ll just hope they’ll answer them somewhat honestly.”

  “Seem as if you’re saying our success might be rooted in how well we tell the story. We’ve got to get the media interested.” Slaid slammed his pickax back into the dirt. “But what if it backfires? I mean, this country needs clean energy. So how do we avoid looking like a bunch of ignorant, backward-looking people who don’t want to do our part?”

  “I’m not sure.” Jack tried to wedge his shovel under the old post. “The thing is, I want wind power—in theory. I want my energy coming from a cleaner source. But do I want those windmills here in Benson? Nope.”

  “I feel the same.”

  “Samantha and I had an idea the other night. I don’t know if it would work for everyone, but we’re thinking of installing solar panels on our roof. Maybe this is a crazy idea, but what if everyone in town did it? We could prove that we’re not just saying no to wind power because we’re selfish. We’d be saying no because we already have our own source of clean energy.”

  “Not a bad idea. It would add to that story you’re talking about spinning. A solar-powered town, threatened by windmills.” Slaid felt more hopeful than he had since Tess had shown up in his office. “What if we worked with the state for some rebates, or even a solar company for a bulk price on panels and installation?”

  “It’s worth looking into,” Jack agreed.

  “I really think it could be a good strategy.” Already Slaid’s thoughts were sifting through memories of everyone he’d met over the years, trying to remember if he knew anyone involved in the solar industry.

  “And it might get us a win.” Jack grinned at him. “If that’s what you want.”

  “It’s what I want. I can’t let this wind project happen on my watch.” Slaid set his ax down and reached into the truck bed for a shovel, using his boot to push it deep into the soil. “I think we should bring it up tonight at the city council meeting. You going?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be there. Can’t shirk my duties as an elected official. Even if I only got a council seat because no one else wanted it.”

  “Hey, plenty of people wanted that seat!” Slaid assured him. “I just wanted you around to save my ass with good ideas like this solar-power plan. I think it could work, though I’m not looking forward to going head-to-head with Tess.”

  “Neither are we.” Jack leaned on his shovel. “I’m sure this whole situation is really awkward for Samantha and Tess. They’ve been such close friends, and for the first time they’re on opposite sides of something.”

  Slaid nodded. “Yeah, well, if it makes you feel any better, a
wkward is a hell of a lot better than how I handled things yesterday. I made it personal. I can’t make that mistake again.”

  “I guess we can’t help it being kind of personal,” Jack said. “But if the council likes our idea, I think someone should tell Tess about the plan. It’s best to be up front.”

  “That someone being me, I guess,” Slaid said. “The dirty work goes along with being the mayor. But I doubt that’ll be an enjoyable conversation.”

  Jack jabbed his shovel under the post again, managing to tip it partway over. Slaid reached for it and wrestled the old wood out of the ground. “You know, Samantha mentioned that you and Tess...”

  “Yep.” No way was Slaid talking about sex, even with a guy as easygoing as Jack. He grabbed his pickax and walked over to the next post, putting his full attention on loosening the dirt around it. “I’d appreciate if you and Samantha don’t pass that along to anyone else. It’s not a night I’m proud of.”

  “Hell, Slaid, we’ve all done things we’re not proud of.”

  “But you’re not the mayor.”

  “Or the son and grandson of previous mayors,” Jack added. He dug his shovel into the dusty soil. “I get that you’ve got a heavy legacy to carry around, but that doesn’t mean you have to be perfect every moment of your life. That’s impossible.”

  Slaid’s laugh came out more like a humorless bark. “I’ve got a divorce to prove that I’m not perfect every moment.”

  Jack grinned. “I’ve got one, too, so I guess that means we both have our flaws.”

  They worked in silence for a few minutes, deepening the hole around the post. Slaid didn’t want to ask, but something inside him wouldn’t let the opportunity slide. “So since the cat’s out of the bag, what do you know about Tess?”

  Jack scooped up a couple more shovelfuls before he answered, “I can understand why you had that night a couple years ago, but I hope for your sake you’re not interested in dating her.”

  “I honestly don’t know what I’m interested in.” But the truth was, he hadn’t stopped thinking about her since she’d walked into his office.

  Jack sighed. “Well, she’s pretty, obviously, and funny and smart and a great friend to my wife—loyal as anything. But you’d be half-crazy to get involved with her. She’s got a wall a mile thick between her and the world. Samantha’s known her since college and says she barely knows anything about her.”

  Slaid paused. “Really? I just figured it was me she was skittish around.”

  “Next time you’re with her, watch how she does it. The minute the conversation gets personal about her, she’ll ask about you. Or make a joke. Or find a new topic. Or leave. Anything but talk about herself.”

  There was a clank as Jack’s shovel hit what must be a pretty big rock. Slaid dropped the ax and picked up his shovel, driving it into the hard soil with his boot, trying to get under it. “Maybe she just hasn’t met the right guy.” He got the shovel under the rock and started prying. The wooden handle snapped like a twig, sending him staggering backward, broken stub in hand.

  Jack just stood there, his shoulders shaking in laughter. “Oh, man, if that’s not an omen for your future with Tess, I don’t know what is. I give you my condolences.”

  Slaid picked up the broken pieces and threw them in the truck. He grabbed another shovel out of the back. “You never know. Why don’t you hold off on those condolences for a few more weeks?”

  Jack had the pickax now, crouching down to loosen the soil under the rock. When he looked at Slaid, he was still grinning. “Will do. And good luck. You’ll surely need it if you’re going to try to get anywhere with Tess Cole.”

  * * *

  USUALLY SLAID WAS restless during meetings. He was a big, active guy and sitting around talking didn’t suit him that well. But this evening he was so tired after setting posts with Jack all day that it actually felt good to be sedentary. At least, it felt good while the city council members brainstormed fund-raising ideas for new holiday decorations. This part was easy. It was the windmill discussion, next on the agenda, that could be tricky. Looking around at the weathered faces of the older ranchers and respected Benson citizens who made up the council, Slaid realized he had no idea what they’d think of Jack’s ideas. Most of these folks were fairly traditional. But regardless of how they felt about any kind of alternative energy, the future of power had showed up uninvited at their doorstep. They would have to deal with it.

  Gus Jackson, owner of the largest market in town, was chairing the meeting. “Next on the agenda is windmills,” he said. “Slaid, you want to talk about this?”

  Slaid cleared his throat and jumped in. “Some of you may have heard that there’s a company looking to put a wind farm on the grazing land I lease east of town.”

  About half the folks on his council nodded, while the other half looked stunned. Apparently the Benson gossip mill hadn’t had quite enough time to work its magic. “Now, I don’t know how you all feel about that, but I think we’ll have to come together and take a stand on it, one way or the other.”

  “I don’t want to look at them all day, that’s for sure,” Sue Emory said, tapping her pencil anxiously. She ran Jeep tours in the summer and snowshoe hikes in winter. “And the tourists won’t like it much, either.”

  “I don’t get it. A private company can just come out here and do that? How?” Gus asked.

  “They can get a lease from the Bureau of Land Management, just like we do for grazing,” Jack answered. And it’s easy for them to do it, because the federal government is all about developing domestic sources of energy right now,”

  “But here? It’s going to mess with this whole area,” Bob Allen said worriedly. “It’ll change everything.”

  “Well, I’m new at this,” Slaid told him. “But it seems to me that if the feds are allowing fracking all over BLM land, a wind-energy project must be a no-brainer for them. It’s a lot less invasive and damaging.”

  Jed Watkins leaned forward. “I just don’t get it. We’re a small town. We don’t need that much energy. Why us?”

  “We’ve got the wind,” Slaid answered. “And it’s a straight shot down Highway 395 to Southern California.”

  “We’re pretty sure they’ll just sell the extra power to LA,” Jack explained. “Or run it across the desert to Las Vegas or some other big city.”

  The quaver in Gus’s voice betrayed his distress, “What do we do? No way can we let this happen.”

  “Well, we’ve got to run a campaign.” Jack glanced around the table. “Try to get some outside support for our cause. Involve the media and environmental groups.”

  “Jack thinks we’ll get a lot of public sympathy on this,” Slaid added. “Especially if we remind people of the struggles folks in this area have endured since LA got its hands on our water.”

  “Sounds like a good idea overall,” Sue said.

  “Well, there’s another part to this idea,” Slaid’s nervousness was gone now. So far not one person had protested, or extolled the economic benefits of windmills. “Jack and I were talking earlier.” Slaid nodded in his friend’s direction. “He had this idea about using solar energy to fight this thing. If we got solar panels installed all over town, we’d be making most of our own power. Then we can prove that we have no need for a wind farm.”

  “But how will we afford all these solar panels?” Jed asked. “Those things are pricey.”

  “Well, there are rebates from the federal government, and we’ll try to work with the state for a grant, too. Plus, I was thinking we could try to find a big solar installation company that might consider a group discount.”

  The ideas started flying. One of the benefits of a small town was that the council knew every homeowner in it. They made a list of who would be on board, who might get on board with some convincing and the few people who probably never would. Then they made a list of people who might need a little financial assistance.

  The council members got so fired up about the solar-power id
ea that they decided to forego the new holiday decorations this year, and instead use the income from the fund-raisers they’d just planned for “solar scholarships” to help people get their panels installed. Slaid felt a rush of pride. An issue that he’d feared might divide his town was actually going to bring its citizens closer than ever.

  His worry about Tess nagged at him, though. If the town came together, they would hand her a big defeat on this thing. And even though he knew that this wasn’t her project, and it wasn’t her defeat, as the project spokesperson, this would be a blow to her career. It might even jeopardize her job.

  He’d promised Jack he’d let Tess know their plans and give her a chance to come up with a counterstrategy. But he’d done a little researching on the internet these past few days and learned that Tess was considered one of the best in her field. With a heads-up she might still find a way to kick his butt.

  “Slaid, are you on board with all these fund-raisers?” Gus asked.

  He looked around the table, embarrassed that he’d been caught with his mind wandering. Luckily his assistant, Erica, had made a chart with all additional fund-raising plans on it, and he was a fast reader. He nodded. They were going to be busy, but it would be worth it. “We’ll need to schedule a few extra meetings, folks, if you want to make all this happen. And I would call in all the favors you can with friends and family, because we will have to form some new committees. Fund-raising, outreach, technology... It’s gonna take the expertise of everyone we know to make this plan a reality.”

  An hour later, they all stumbled down the steps of the town hall and out into the dusk. The sun set early these days, earlier still because it went behind the mountains so quickly. Waving goodbye to the council members, Slaid relished a sense of accomplishment. This was why he was mayor—for moments like this. When people worked together to make something happen that was way beyond what any one individual could do.

  And now it was just a matter of getting it done. They had their plans in place, meetings on the calendar, and if everyone did their part, they could win this fight.

 

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