Opposites Attract (Nerds of Paradise Book 1)

by Merry Farmer

  “Never mind about the damn minutes,” Howie growled. “Just vote.”

  “Now Howard—” Bonneville stared down at Howie with a supercilious tilt of his chin. “You know as well as anyone else that all meetings need to be conducted according to Robert’s Rules of Order, and that means reading the minutes from the last meeting first.”

  Howie sighed so loud Scott could hear it fifteen rows back. “Fine, go ahead then.”

  Ronny cleared his throat and launched into the last meeting’s minutes. Scott lost his focus after the first sentence. He turned to Casey. “Is there any precedent for Howie overturning a decision made by the town council?”

  “Well—” She leaned closer to him, excitement in her eyes, which were glued to the stage. “—not recently, and not over something so big.” She glanced to him, their eyes met, and both of them smiled.

  “Howie Four hasn’t intervened in the last ten years,” Ted said on Scott’s other side, breaking the beautiful spell. “But his father was known to override a decision or two. The original Howard Haskell used to do it all the time.”

  As much as Scott wanted to go back to gazing into Casey’s eyes and forgetting the rest of the world existed, even he had to admit there were more important things at hand. He straightened, settling for holding Casey’s hand between them. “I can believe the man who founded the town and gave his name to it would interfere in town governance,” he said.

  “You can hardly call it interference, though,” Casey said, returning her attention to the proceedings as well. “He was mayor until the day he died.”

  “Do I have a motion to accept the minutes as read?” Bonneville asked.

  “So moved,” Darren said, raising his hand.”

  “Seconded,” Louise quickly added.

  Bonneville banged his gavel. “Then the minutes are accepted.

  “He sure does like to bang that thing,” Roscoe grumbled from Ted’s other side.

  “It’s probably the only banging he gets to do these days,” Ted snorted.

  Roscoe sent him a sideways look and a warning, “Son…”

  Ted’s goofy grin disappeared. He cleared his throat and settled into his chair.

  Everyone’s attention was on the stage as Bonneville went on to say. “Now, before we discuss new business, do we have anything to recap with the old?”

  “Put a sock in it, Rich,” Howie called. He was now leaning back in his front-row seat, arms crossed like a judge waiting to hear a particularly squirrely defendant testify. “The vote is new and old business alike.”

  “He has a point about that,” Louise said.

  “Fine.” Bonneville huffed. “Then we’ll get right to it. Ronny?”

  Ronny stood and glanced around at the audience as though he were a rock star who had just taken the stage. “The issue at hand is a proposed law that would protect and preserve historical ranches in Haskell and the surrounding area.”

  “The issue at hand,” Howie corrected, “is the two of you trying to railroad some good people into selling you their land at a premium. Land, I might add, that your lot has been salivating over for generations.”

  “Excuse me,” Bonneville snapped, leaning back in his chair the same way Howie was reclining in his. “Are you on the city council?”

  “No,” Howie answered. “But I don’t have to be to speak up. In fact, anyone here is free to speak up whenever they damn well please.”

  Scott had a sudden idea why Bonneville had gone out of his way to make sure Howie wasn’t at the two previous meetings. “Are they always like this?” he whispered.

  “Yes,” Ted and Casey answered in unison.

  It explained so much.

  “Wouldn’t you agree that historic preservation is central to Haskell’s ongoing mission?” Bonneville grilled Howie.

  “Yes, I would,” Howie answered, unfazed. “And preserving that land in the hands of its rightful owners even more so.”

  “I don’t see anywhere in this proposed law that demands those rightful owners sell their land, if they can afford to keep it.” Bonneville kept at it.

  “Well I do see that you’re tying a noose around their necks so that if they ever run into hard times and need a creative way to get out of it, they’ll end up hanging themselves instead of preserving things.”

  “Nowhere in this proposed law does it say—”

  “If you’re so fired up about protecting historical properties, then why don’t you set up some sort of financial strategy to help all the ranchers around here maintain their property, through short-term loans or some such, instead of rushing to find ways that will cause them to lose everything?” Howie cut Bonneville off.

  A large number of people in the audience agreed with him.

  Bonneville’s face went red. “This isn’t about setting up complicated and risky financial bail-outs for people who can’t manage their own business,” he growled.

  “No,” Howie shot back, growing calmer and stronger as Bonneville shook with rage. “It’s about contradicting everything this town has stood for since it was founded so that you all can do what you’ve been trying to do for over a hundred years and close your iron fist around a lot of good folks.”

  “Hear, hear,” someone called from the crowd. Many people agreed with him.

  “Come off it,” someone else shouted. “If anyone has an iron grip on this town, it’s the Haskell family. Why not pass a law that’ll put responsibility for preservation in someone else’s hands?”

  A swell of support for that idea filled the room. Scott rubbed a hand over the lower half of his face, then adjusted his glasses, sitting forward. “I really need to learn who everyone is in this town.”

  “That was Skip Eakins,” Casey told him. “He owns three of the four gas stations in town, and is awfully cozy with the Bonnevilles.”

  “Ah.” Scott nodded.

  The audience swelled with agreement and grumbling again in reaction to a comment Scott hadn’t heard.

  “And if it wasn’t for that one, stupid building idea,” an unfamiliar, middle-aged woman near the front of the auditorium was saying, “we wouldn’t even be here.”

  Scott perked up, and just in time too.

  “Where is that man anyhow?” Skip Eakins asked, looking around. “All this fuss, and he didn’t even bother to show up?”

  “Stand up, son,” Roscoe ordered Scott from the other side of Ted.

  Pulse racing, Scott stood. “I’m right here.” He wished he’d been paying attention a minute earlier.

  A hundred sets of eyes bored into him as most of the audience turned in their seats to stare at him. Skip seemed disappointed that Scott was there, but he recovered his momentum enough to call out, “Why are you so daggum set on bucking the system and building a weird house in the first place? Doesn’t Haskell have enough other housing options for you?”

  Scott shifted to settle his weight firmly over his feet. He adjusted his glasses and drew on all of his military and professional experience to give himself an air of authority. This wasn’t just his dream anymore, this was the future of a woman and a family that he’d come to care deeply about.

  “The house has been a dream of mine for a long time,” he said. “But lately, it’s been supplanted by a newer, and I think better, dream.” He glanced sideways at Casey and smiled. “When I first bought that land from Roscoe Flint, I thought it would be a nice spot for a complex project. I could go on and tell you all about the economic and environmental benefits of a green house, but I’ve already said all I can on that subject.

  “What really matters to me, and what I think is the most important point that you’ll be voting on tonight, is the whole issue of what it means to belong to something.” A few people near him made sounds of curiosity or confusion, but Scott went on. “People talk about belonging to the land all the time, and from what I’ve seen of Haskell so far, that goes double here. These ranches aren’t just impersonal, historical landmarks that deserve recognition for being around a lo
ng time. They’re part of people’s family histories. They’re part of their identity, what makes them who they are.

  “In the last few weeks as this debate has gone on, I’ve come to realize that I want to be a part of that too. I may be new here, but I can tell you without a shred of doubt, I want to belong to Haskell too. This isn’t about heartlessly carving up old properties, it’s about imbuing them with heart, welcoming new people into a family that extends through the entire town and its history. I didn’t buy a parcel of land from Roscoe, I bought into something bigger than myself. And frankly, I don’t see why anyone would worry that the owners of any of the historical ranches in the area would even want to go selling them off piece by piece. You don’t need a law telling people how to preserve their past and their identity. That’s something that’s written into the DNA of every Haskellian I’ve met. And just about every Haskellian that I’ve met sees exactly what this proposed law is all about.”

  For a moment, Scott’s words hung in the air. He hadn’t intended to get up and make a speech. Part of him felt like he should end it with some grand, closing statement, but he couldn’t think of anything. Instead, he shrugged, spread his hands to the side, and appealed directly to Bonneville, glowering from his place on the center of the stage. Then he sat and turned to Casey with a smile, taking her hand.

  “That was awesome,” Casey whispered, blinking back tears.

  A few people in the audience applauded while even more spoke out over top of each other, causing a buzz of commentary and conversation. Bonneville’s face turned an even deeper shade of red, and he picked up his gavel, banging it on the table.

  “Quiet!” he shouted. “I won’t let this meeting turn into a ruckus. All of you, shut up.” The murmuring continued until Bonneville stopped it the only way he could. “Oh, let’s just take a vote and get this over with!”

  Those were the magic words. The audience instantly hushed, all eyes on the stage. Bonneville hunched in his seat, nodding to his son.

  Ronny stood up, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed. “All in favor of passing and implementing the historical preservation law being discussed, say ‘Aye,’”

  He instantly raised his hand and said “Aye.” Unsurprisingly, Jessica Chapman said “Aye” as well.

  Ronny’s face pinched even further as he growled through clenched teeth, “All opposed?”

  Gary Haskell and Luna Clutterbuck immediately said, “Nay.”

  A beat behind them, Darren, Louise, and Piper raised their hands and said, “Nay,” as well.

  Ronny didn’t need to point out the obvious. Even if he had, no one would have heard him. The audience erupted into cheers of victory, or in a very few cases, grumbles of defeat. Ted was one of the ones shouting in triumph. Roscoe just leaned back with a satisfied smile. Scott was right there with him. He didn’t have the energy to crow over his victory. It had all been knocked out of him by a gigantic wave of relief.

  “See,” he told Casey over the din of the crowd. “I told you everything would be okay.”

  Casey was beaming from ear-to-ear, her eyes glassy with tears of joy. “Who would have thought that I’d be so happy that the sale stands and you’re going to build that house after all?”

  “So you are happy about it?” The room was quieting and the meeting was going on without them, but Scott didn’t care.

  Casey nodded, then shrugged and laughed as though it were the most ridiculous thing ever. “I am. You convinced me. Now I can’t wait to see what the house looks like and how it works.”

  “Well good, because I’m hoping you’ll spend a lot of time there in the future.”

  He didn’t care if they were in a crowded room with more than a few sets of eyes watching them, Scott reached around Casey’s back and pulled her close. He kissed her as thoroughly as if they were alone, his heart feeling so big it could fill the room, fill all of Wyoming. Law or no law, Casey was the true prize, and he would make sure she knew it for the rest of his life.

  Epilogue

  Casey had always loved the fresh, promising scent of moist, spring earth after the snow melted. Even in the high desert, the richness of the air in April was enough to make her think that anything was possible. Carrot seemed convinced too. Casey had to hold her back from tearing around the practice barrels with so much abandon that she might hurt herself. The ground was still dangerous in some spots, even though her dad had moved the barrels to a better spot the month before.

  “Easy girl,” she soothed her old friend with a pat to her neck after a particularly harrowing near-fall. “You don’t have to get it all back in one go. We’ve still got time before our come-back competition.”

  Carrot bobbed her head and snorted as though that wasn’t soon enough.

  Casey laughed and bent forward in the saddle to hug Carrot’s neck. It was such a relief to be back in the saddle, literally and figuratively. Louise had claimed that no one was as happy as she was when, a week after the city council meeting, Casey had gone to her and told her she wanted to rejoin the team. But Louise was wrong. She couldn’t put into words how, but Casey knew her mom was happier than anyone else. She was looking down from Heaven, cheering Casey on with every turn around the barrels.

  “Come on.” She gave Carrot a last pat and sat straighter. “Let’s run.”

  She turned Carrot away from the barrels and out toward the open range, brimming with spring color. Carrot seemed ready to run, and Casey shifted her seat, leaning in and ready to let Carrot go. But something startled Carrot, and she popped her head up, looking around.

  A moment later, Casey heard the deep rumble of heavy machinery. She sat up, twisting in the saddle to see where it was coming from. Her eyes popped wide at the sight of an enormous backhoe rolling up the drive. It was headed straight for Scott’s patch of land.

  “No,” she whispered, frowning and raising a hand to her forehead to block the sun and get a better view. “He wouldn’t.”

  Jaw clenched in determination, she wheeled Carrot around and set her to running in a different direction, toward Scott’s land. After everything they’d been through, he wouldn’t dare do what she thought he was doing.

  She was far enough away that even at a gallop, she reached Scott’s land a minute or so behind the backhoe. Scott was standing to the side as Lenny Montrose and a few of his men, all wearing hardhats, roved the corded off area. Lenny motioned for the backhoe to move into place.

  “Stop!” Casey shouted, pulling Carrot to a stop as she reached the edge of the property. “Stop!”

  Scott whirled around, surprise on his face. “Casey?”

  Loud, sharp beeping filled the air as the backhoe backed up. As soon as Carrot came to a full stop, Casey jumped down and raced toward the machine. “Stop!” She called again. “You can’t do this.”

  She sprinted until she stood between the backhoe and the cords marking off the outline of Scott’s house. Lenny saw her and waved and shouted for his man to stop the backhoe just as Casey held up her arms. Scott jogged to her side.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, concern and a little bit of annoyance in his eyes.

  “I can’t let you do this,” Casey said, breathless and panting.

  “You can’t….” Scott rubbed a hand over his face. “But we talked about this. I thought you were okay with it. I know you were okay with it.”

  “Nope.” She shook her head, crossing her arms. It was hard to keep the smile that wanted to break out off of her face. “I can’t let you go through with this.”

  “Casey,” Scott began, uncertain, reaching for her.

  Casey’s smile broke through. “I can’t let you take the first step in building your house without me here by your side.”

  Relief brightened Scott’s expression. He relaxed, lowering his head and laughing. “You sure know how to scare the life out of me.”

  “I thought you liked that.” She stepped closer to him and threw her arms around him.

  “I do,” he insisted, hugging her close.
<
br />   “Hey, that’s my line,” she said bumping him with her hip.

  “It’s my line too,” he said with a wink. “But not for another six months or until the house is finished.”

  “Which is why you should have waited for me to start digging the foundation,” she said. “After all, this isn’t just going to be my house too, it’s our wedding venue.”

  “All right, all right.” He chuckled, and at Lenny’s signal, scooped his arm around Casey’s waist to move her out of the way.

  The backhoe growled to life again, the loud beeping resuming as it moved into place. Casey and Scott found a spot well out of the way of the workers to stand and watch.

  “I thought you were busy training for the rodeo,” Scott said as they stood side-by-side, watching Lenny direct his crew. “I assumed you wouldn’t have time to watch a bunch of guys dig a hole.”

  “Are you kidding?” She leaned her head toward his shoulder as his arm tightened around her waist. “I love watching guys dig holes.” He laughed and pulled her in for a kiss. “Besides,” she went on, “I have plenty of time for training before the first competition. And Louise says I’m back in my rhythm as if I’d never left.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” Scott gave her another kiss. “And after the way you ran circles around me, I had no doubt that you’d be back in fighting form so fast. You never got out of fighting form to begin with.”

  “Ha ha.” She tugged his arm.

  “Okay, let ’er go!” Lenny shouted to his men. The backhoe’s shovel lifted, then began to descend.

  “This is it,” Scott said, brimming with excitement. “This is the beginning of our next chapter.”

  The shovel pressed down into the dirt, breaking ground. Casey sighed with contentment. “It’s more than the next chapter. It’s the beginning of a whole new story.”

  And as long as she and Scott were together, the sky was the limit.

  I hope you’ve enjoyed Casey and Scott’s story! This is just the beginning for the Nerds of Paradise. Are you curious about this orienteering event that Howie Four has planned for the spring? Did you know that orienteering is a real thing, where people are blindfolded and dropped in the middle of the wilderness with only a few supplies and a compass and have to find their way to a predesignated point? Well, William Darling is definitely up to the challenge. He’s a straight-laced guy from a military family who takes himself very seriously. So of course sparks will fly when he’s paired up with none other than free-spirit Melody Clutterbuck for the event. Being stranded in the wilderness, alone together, with only their wits and wiles and determination to win the prize, is definitely a recipe for chaos. You can read all about it next in Chaos Theory, coming soon!