She wouldn’t rat Beth out for eavesdropping.
Beth wouldn’t rat Lindsey out for sneaking out of the house and meeting with a boy she knew her parents wouldn’t have approved of in a million years.
Stuart was a boy with a lot of issues.
He was bullied in school and was failing all his classes.
One problem begat the other. The bullying and constant abuse made him skip classes to avoid it.
Skipping classes meant missed assignments.
Missed assignments meant lower grades.
And lower grades meant he was in constant danger of failing.
Lindsey stumbled across Stuart sitting against a tree in a local park while walking home from school one day.
She’d seen him around the school.
He was hard to miss, dressed in black leather even on the hottest of days.
His hair caught the sun and almost glowed. He was a walking talking neon sign.
He had more body piercings than ten of her girlfriends combined, the most glaring being the huge ring he displayed in his nose.
Her father would have said he looked like a cartoon bull and would have told her she didn’t need to waste her time with such a boy.
Dave considered himself fairly open-minded.
She didn’t necessarily share that assessment.
That was why, when she and Stuart became friends, she kept their friendship a secret from her parents.
That friendship started when Stuart’s tears stopped her short as she walked by him.
She asked him what they were all about.
He quite honestly told her he saw the world as the most evil of places. He told her everyone he knew worked together to cause him pain and make him miserable.
He felt, he said, no love from anyone. Not even his family.
She was brutally honest with him from the beginning. That was one of the things which drew him to her.
She told him bluntly that if he wanted to stop the abuse he should consider becoming more mainstream. To lose the black leather and the nose ring.
That he should try to be more like everyone else.
“That may not be what you want to hear,” she said. “But I’m pretty sure it would work.”
They became the unlikeliest of soul mates. And while Beth’s watching from an upstairs window kept them from going too far, they became quite close.
Stuart’s family moved a few months later and word got back to Lindsey he died not long after.
She assumed suicide, based on Stuart’s general outlook on life. But she was wrong.
It turned out Stuart took her advice. He stopped dying his hair and threw away his nose ring. He wore only a single silver stud in one ear and started dressing like everyone else.
The bullying stopped. He began to make friends.
He was run over and killed by a drunk driver while walking home from driver’s ed class.
Lindsey missed him.
Maybe that’s why he of all people came to her in a dream.
“You’ve got to forgive her,” he said. “Before it’s too late.”
“What do you mean?” dream Lindsey asked him.
“I got taken away before I could say I was sorry to all the people I’d wronged. Before I could say all my ‘I love yous.’ Before I could tell my brothers not to make the same mistakes I made. We don’t know how much time we have left. Don’t assume you have tomorrow to make amends.
“Forgive your mother. She’s not perfect, but then neither are you. None of us are, Lindsey.”
She awoke with those four words ringing in her ear.
“None of us are…”
Chapter 10
Lind stumbled down the stairs knowing full well most of the others were still sound asleep.
She was hoping her mother was up and about early, as she often was, for Sarah had trouble sleeping through the night as well.
Lind wanted to talk to her mom, woman to almost-woman, to see if they could come to some kind of truce on their impasse.
She was heartened to see the soft glow of an oil lantern emanating from the kitchen doorway and the smell of coffee brewing in the Keurig.
Often times someone stayed up until the battery bank went dead and there was no electricity left in the morning for coffee.
In Lindsey’s estimation such people should be drawn and quartered, then reassembled and burned at the stake.
She loved her morning coffee, and it loved her.
Sometimes it seemed her only friend in the world.
She was surprised to find it wasn’t her mother sitting alone at the kitchen table, though. It was her father.
“Dad,” she said while hugging his neck. “What are you doing up?”
“Waiting for a helper.”
“A helper. For what?”
“Well, I woke up early so I thought I’d get an early start. I need to go into town, but I hate to make that ride alone. It’s such a lonely ride and it’s so much nicer to have somebody to talk to.”
She smiled.
She’d been looking for some alone time with her father. She’d had scant little of it since his return.
“Say no more. Give me ten minutes to get dressed.”
“Aren’t you gonna ask what we’re going to be doing?”
“It doesn’t matter, Dad. As long as you’re doing it with me I don’t care what it is.”
“Good. Because we’re going to gather cow poop and fashion it into sculptures.”
“As long as you’re leading the way and showing me how it’s done.”
She started for the stairs with a new spring in her step.
“Wait. I’ll make you some coffee. You want the usual?”
“That would be nice. Thanks Dad.”
Dave was suddenly alone again.
He decided that although his oldest daughter could be obstinate and moody sometimes, she was pretty darned good.
He decided to keep her.
She’d asked for ten minutes.
She was back in eight.
Dave checked his watch as she walked back into the kitchen.
“You know, there’s one good thing that this darned blackout brought with it that I like.”
“What’s that, Dad?”
“It doesn’t take you or your mother sixteen hours to get dressed in the morning anymore.
“Why is that, exactly?”
She smiled again and said, “Well, I suppose it’s because we no longer have makeup to put on in the morning to make us beautiful.”
“Honey, you’ve always been beautiful. So has your mom. All the makeup did was cover up your natural beauty.”
“Thank you for that, Dad. Aunt Karen says we’ve all gone caveman. No makeup at all, no fancy hair care products, no blow dryers or straighteners or curling irons. We’ve become more like men. Just wash and get dressed and go.
“Mom says we’re like the pioneer women who settled this land two hundred years ago. No frills.
“But you know what, Dad?”
“No, honey. What?”
“I don’t miss the whole makeup thing. I’ve gotten used to not using it, and if the world doesn’t want to accept me as I am, that’s their problem, not mine.”
“That’s the spirit.”
She sipped her coffee and closed her eyes.
The first sip was always the best.
She opened them again to hear someone coming down the stairs.
“Darn it. There goes my father-daughter alone time.”
“Don’t worry about it honey. We’ll be gone into town for three or four hours. By the time we get back you’ll be sick of me.”
“Promise you won’t invite anybody else?”
“I promise.”
Chapter 11
Sarah walked into the kitchen. The look of surprise on her face came from seeing Lindsey already there.
Lindsey wasn’t exactly known for rising early.
There was also just a hint of concern mixed in with the surprised look, for Lindsey w
as hot and cold these days toward her mother.
Truth be known, mostly cold.
Sarah wasn’t sure on any given day whether Lindsey would even say hello to her, or quietly leave the room when her mother came around.
Not to worry. On this particular day Lindsey said, “Good morning, Mom. Sit down and I’ll make you some coffee.”
“Well… thank you, sweetheart.”
“Hey, Dad made mine. I’m just paying it forward as well.”
Sarah walked up behind Dave and wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed him on the top of the head and sat down across the table from him.
“So, the two of you are already dressed and the sun hasn’t even broken on the horizon yet. Are you planning on running away and joining the circus or something?”
Dave said, “Nope. Just going in to town and figured the sooner we get started the more comfortable it’ll be.”
“How so?”
“Well, the rain’s finally stopped after three days. But it’ll likely be hot today, and it’ll likely be very humid. If we can get gone and get back in the morning hours we won’t get soaked with sweat and smelling like pigs.
“At least that’s my hope.”
Lind added, “Ewww, mine too.”
“What are you going to town for, exactly?”
“Well, I took an inventory of the barbed wire in the barn and did some calculating.
“I’m not going to have enough wire to surround the clearing, and I’ll need another twenty posts or so. I think the abandoned hardware and farm store in Ely will have both. And I need to meet with Mrs. Taylor and try to negotiate a deal with the cattle.”
“What kind of deal?”
“Karen told me to get whatever I could for them. Mrs. Taylor has a pretty good stock of jarred vegetables and scrambled eggs and the like. I’m going to see if she’d like to swap some for some fresh beef.
“One of the cows is carrying a calf now, which means Mrs. Taylor can turn her into a milk cow soon. I’m guessing her guests would love to have some fresh milk with their breakfast. I know my mouth’s watering just thinking about fresh milk.”
“How long do you think you’ll be gone?”
“Well, as I said, I want to leave early so we can get back before it starts getting hot. I’m just waiting for your slow-poke daughter to get off her butt.”
Lindsey said, “Say no more,” and sprung to her feet.
While Dave was hitching up the horses, though, Lindsey excused herself and returned to the house.
Just for a minute.
She held her mother and said, “Mom, I know you’ll do the right thing. You always do. And I want you to know that if you don’t tell Dad about Parker, I’m okay with that. He doesn’t need to be hurt, and what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.”
Sarah brushed the hair from Lindsey’s eyes and kissed her on the forehead.
“Thank you, honey. But you should know I do intend to tell him. He has a right to know.
“I’m just waiting for the best time.”
The pair held each other for a couple of minutes and by the time Lind went back outside Dave was atop the rig, ready to go.
She climbed atop the wagoneer’s bench and sat beside him.
It was her very first time on the rig and she struggled to sit still as it swayed to and fro.
Dave laughed.
“It’s like riding a horse. You can’t fight the motion. You have to just relax and roll with it.
“Would you like to take the reins? It’s easier if you’re driving.”
She didn’t believe him, but it was indeed easier.
“Hey, this is kind of fun.”
“Told you.”
Chapter 12
Hallie Taylor was a striking redhead, widowed for just over ten years.
Before her husband died in a plane crash she managed a bed and breakfast in Flagstaff, Arizona.
Her husband was on the board of the largest bank in Flagstaff and was on his way to a banker’s convention in Las Vegas when his plane went down.
Truth be known, the convention could have been held at a hundred different cities at half the cost.
But the banking industry has never worried much about playing fast and loose with shareholders’ money (or account holders’ either, for that matter).
The fact they chose Vegas was because what happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas. That and gambling and scantily-clad showgirls.
And because every one of its one hundred and seven attendees happened to be male.
That wasn’t Bob Taylor’s problem, though.
Bob was a good man, faithful as could be. His only vice was the glass of Tennessee fine whiskey which he downed every night at bedtime.
He said he did that to “knock the day’s dust” off him and to relax him enough to sleep. Despite his doctor’s scoffing and reminding him alcohol was a stimulant Bob appeared to be right. For on the rare occasions he missed his nightcap he was invariably left staring at the ceiling at one in the morning.
Bob was on his way to Vegas to network, and because someone on his bank’s board had to attend to take notes.
All the other board members were henpecked and couldn’t get permission, or had no desire to go lose money at the tables and chase pretty young women they had no chance of catching.
It was to Bob’s detriment he caved to pressure and agreed to go, for it would be the last plane ride he’d ever take.
Unless, of course, one counted the flight back to Flagstaff the mangled and burned pieces of his body made for his funeral.
It turned out the pilot of the small commuter plane which flew from Flagstaff to Las Vegas had enjoyed a few shots of the same Tennessee whiskey just before takeoff.
He gave far too much attention to a pesky mosquito which had somehow made its way into the cockpit, and when he took his hands and attention off the controls to swat it the plane nose-dived into the ground.
The bank filed suit against the airline on her behalf.
She was on record as saying she didn’t want any damned money.
She wanted her husband back.
She won the suit anyway.
Twelve million.
She gave most of it to a dozen different charities, only saving enough to buy a large boarding house in the tiny town of Ely.
She’d never been to Ely before, or to Kansas either for that matter.
But she wanted something as far away from Flagstaff as possible, for while she loved the city and everything about it, it just held too many memories of Bob.
When she found the “for sale” ad for the Ely boarding house on the internet she took a chance.
And she found a new home.
She was a very talented manager who was loved by the Chamber of Commerce and her boarders alike, and it was to no one’s surprise that twenty months after the power went out hers was the only business in Ely still in business.
One of the reasons for that was that she never forgot the age old adage:
THE CUSTOMER
ALWAYS COMES FIRST
She was such a believer in the adage she had it hanging on the wall of her office, near another of her mantras:
TAKE CARE OF YOUR CUSTOMERS AND THEY’LL TAKE CARE OF YOU
With that attitude it was no surprise, then, when Dave came to ask her if she’d be interested in owning a bull and two heifers that she’d listen intently to his pitch.
Chapter 13
He and Lindsey walked unannounced into the drawing room of the boarding house and the day manager greeted them.
“Ah, Mr. Speer, we meet again. Will you be needing rooms today?
“No, sir. Actually, I’m hoping to discuss a business proposition with Ms. Taylor, if she’s available.”
“I’ll see,” he said. Then, as an aside, he whispered, “It’ll help if she knows what it pertains to.”
“Tell her I have some livestock to trade, and thought her guests might like to have some fresh beef.”
The man’s e
yes widened.
Fresh beef was a hard thing to come by lately.
Most livestock had been slaughtered, either by locals desperate for food or by uncaring marauders and escaped inmates.
There were a few nearby ranches which were trying to increase the livestock population by only sending cattle to slaughter when they were three years old or more. But their meat commanded a very high price.
And Mrs. Taylor mentioned to Sal she might be in the market for stock to start her own herd.
The manager was right.
The word “beef” grabbed the widow innkeeper’s attention immediately and she greeted him in less than two minutes.
“Mr. Speer, thank you so much for dropping by. Your offer intrigues me. Would you mind stepping into my office?”
She led the way to what was once the master bedroom in the regal old house.
It was the only bedroom on the first floor and had a connecting library.
Parts of it remained the same, including floor-to-ceiling hardwood bookshelves along its north and south walls.
They once held books of every genre. Now they were largely empty, and contributed a bit of old-world character.
Sal, over dinner one night when he and Beth were staying here, inquired about the origins of the two hundred year-old house. He was told it was the first house in the town not made of logs, and belonged to a trader named Martin Ely.
When the town grew in the years following it needed a name.
Since Mr. Ely was the richest and most powerful man among them, he held enough sway to convince them to name the town in his honor.
As for the house itself, it had a very rich and very mixed history. It had been attacked by Indians four times and still bore bullet and arrow strike marks on all four sides of the structure.
After the founder’s death it served for a time as the town’s brothel.
That was before a group of women from the local Baptist church threatened to burn it down.
Then it was purchased by old Doc Bentley and turned into his clinic for twenty years.
As such it had seen its fair share of both births and deaths, and rumors still flew it was haunted.
Ely hung himself from one of three huge oak trees on the front lawn and was buried on the spot, a rather large headstone still marking his eternal resting place.
Texas Bound: Alone: Book 11 Page 4