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Riding High

Page 16

by Stacy Finz

“They were already tainted by my father, who left my mother and me in abject poverty.”

  “He died, Gia. It’s not like he cleaned out your family’s bank account and ran off with his secretary. For all you know he had a plan to recoup some of the wealth he’d lost from those bad investments.”

  Gia opened a few more windows to air out the oversize great room. By the time her guests arrived she wanted the place to smell fresh.

  “How do you lose everything and not tell your wife? How do keep secrets that will indelibly change your family’s life from the person you love most?” She placed her hands on her hips and stared at Dana in challenge.

  Dana let out a breath. “Maybe he planned to tell your mom and then he had the heart attack. Or maybe he couldn’t bear to tell her because he loved you two so much and desperately wanted to fix it. You’ll never know for sure, Gia. But I think you should cut him a break.”

  Gia hitched her shoulders, not wanting to talk about her dead father anymore. What was done was done. If nothing else, it had made her the woman she was today. And now she would help others in dire circumstances turn their lives around. When her father died Iris Treadwell hadn’t even known how to pay a bill or apply for a credit card. She’d been one of those women who left all money matters to her husband.

  “Come in the kitchen.” She motioned for Dana to follow her and opened the refrigerator to show her platters of cheese and meats, breads, and veggies. “What do you think? I got it at a nice gourmet shop in Reno.”

  “It looks fantastic. But these aren’t people you have to try to impress, Gia. They’re about as down-to-earth as you can get.”

  “Are you kidding me? Emily McCreedy is a big-deal cookbook author. Maddy Breyer-Shepard owns an inn that would be considered upscale even in a big city.”

  “You’re having them too?” Dana looked surprised.

  “The Shepards live just up the road from the McCreedys. Considering how spread out we are around here, they’re immediate neighbors. Plus, if I can get the police chief on my side, that’ll go a long way with the rest of the town, don’t you think?”

  “For sure. So this Annie woman is going to talk too?”

  Gia lined a dozen wineglasses on the counter and checked each individual one for spots. “Yeah. She’ll talk about the farming venture so everyone will see that it’s legit. Clay was already impressed with her pedigree. According to Flynn, her family owns one of California’s largest rice farms.”

  “It sounds to me like you’ve got everything lined up. These are good people, Gia; they’ll buy in, especially because you’re using the property for agricultural purposes. And I see no reason why you can’t continue to lease the land next spring to the Barlows, or any other rancher.”

  Flynn had certainly been generous about letting her fence off some of the property. He’d even volunteered to see to the fence himself. Sporting, because according to the contract he’d made with Rosser, he was entitled to let his cattle graze on every inch of pasture.

  “I could,” she said. “The extra money would come in handy.”

  When the glasses were polished to Gia’s standards, she pulled out a stack of plates from the cupboards. “Cloth napkins or paper?”

  Dana laughed. “Definitely paper.”

  They both heard a vehicle pull up and Dana went to the front room to see who it was. Only a few people had the code to the gate and she and Flynn had clickers.

  “It’s a turquoise pickup,” Dana called.

  “That’s Annie.” Gia smiled to herself and joined Dana in the front room. “I’m glad you’ll get to meet her.”

  “What’s she wearing?” Dana asked, as they both watched from the window as Annie got out of the truck.

  From what Gia could tell, it was a square dancing dress made from bandana fabric and petticoats of tulle. Instead of her signature combat boots she’d donned a vintage pair of shitkickers and wore her hair in two braids. Gia suspected the outfit was Annie’s idea of business casual.

  “Uh, she’s got her own style. Sort of cowpunk, I guess.”

  “She’s adorable,” Dana said.

  Annie had been coming and going to test the soil for the trees, meeting with people about tilling the ground, and using the guest apartment when she didn’t have to be in Davis. Gia had been documenting the process by taking pictures and sending them to her mother in Boca. Iris’s mah-jongg buddies couldn’t believe Gia was going to be a farmer. Gia had a hard time believing it herself.

  She opened the door to greet Annie. “Come meet a friend of mine.”

  Annie came into the big foyer and put her bags down. She’d been carting her toiletries and everyday necessities back and forth in grocery sacks. Later, Gia planned to give her a suitcase with wheels. Lord knew she had one in every size and color.

  “Annie, meet my friend Dana, Nugget’s premier real estate agent.”

  The two women said hello and Gia led them into the front room.

  “Everything looks perfect,” Annie said, scanning the big space. “Nervous?”

  “A little,” Gia admitted.

  “You’ll do great. You used to be on TV, for goodness’ sake.”

  Gia’s shows were pretaped and the audience consisted of a producer and the crew. Everything was done for her, from her hair and makeup to the choice of outfits and jewelry she wore. TV was easy compared to facing down Nugget’s most influential residents.

  “I hope so,” she said. “How’s everything with you?”

  “I’ll be done with school soon.” Annie sighed.

  Living on friends’ couches and making the commute from Davis to Nugget had to be killing her.

  “It’ll be good when you’re here full-time,” Gia said.

  Dana looked at her watch. “If you’re sure you don’t need me, I’ll get going. Aidan and I have more than a dozen cakes to taste.”

  Annie looked at Gia. “Wedding cakes. Dana’s getting married in June.”

  “Congratulations,” Annie said and spontaneously hugged Dana. Dana seemed a bit caught off guard but hugged Annie back.

  They walked Dana out and Annie grabbed her stuff. She said she wanted to spend some time in her apartment until the meeting started. Gia was relieved to have a little time to herself to practice her speech in her head.

  About fifteen minutes before showtime Flynn drove up and found her in the kitchen. A few damp locks of hair escaped his cowboy hat, his jeans were pressed and his boots polished.

  “Sorry I’m late. A bull got loose at my parents’ place . . . screwed up my schedule.”

  “No problem,” she said, though she’d been pacing, worried that he wouldn’t show, which was silly. In the short time she’d known Flynn he’d proven to be extremely dependable. Frankly, she didn’t know how he managed to juggle ranching and his law practice so deftly.

  “The food and wine are out, Annie is on her way over, and . . . I’m nervous.”

  “Don’t be; these are good people.”

  It was the same thing Dana had said. “What if they say no? . . . This is important to me.”

  He clasped her shoulders and pulled her in close. “Then you’ll make it happen. You’ve certainly got my vote.”

  She thought he might kiss her again, but he didn’t. Since that one time, he seemed to have gotten himself under control. On the nights Flynn stayed over he hid upstairs with the TV on and didn’t come down until morning. Gia wanted to say it was for the best, but she’d lost a lot of sleep listening to him creaking around up there . . . her body aching for him.

  “You think they won’t trust me . . . because of Evan?” She’d lost a lot of her confidence since becoming the target of a federal investigation. When people looked at you with suspicion and condemnation you started seeing yourself that way.

  “Relax, Gia; you’ll do fine,” he said and went inside the mudroom to hang his hat.

  “This the food? I’m starved.” Flynn started to reach for a slice of cheese and Gia slapped his hand.

  “Don�
��t mess up the tray. It looks perfect.”

  One side of his mouth slid up. “We just gonna look at it all night?”

  “No. I want to keep it perfect until the guests get here.” She opened the refrigerator and got him a mozzarella cheese stick. “Eat this.”

  He made a face. “My little nephew eats these.”

  “So? It doesn’t mean it’s not edible.”

  He grabbed her hips and pulled her up against him. Her hands landed on his chest and she could feel his rock-hard muscles flex under his shirt and smell his aftershave. His thighs rubbed against her bare legs, and in that moment she wanted to sink into him. Just let him hold her up while she buried her head in the curve of his neck.

  “Nice dress,” he said, and the next thing she felt was his hand snaking underneath the hem to squeeze one of her ass cheeks. “Nice thong too.”

  “What are you doing?” She blinked up at him in surprise. At a time like this he suddenly wanted to get physical?

  “Distracting you.” He slowly pulled his hand away, brushing the back of her leg, making her shiver.

  They heard Annie call from the foyer and quickly pulled apart.

  “Come in,” Gia shouted, a shade too loud, and turned to Flynn. “Help me carry some of this stuff in.”

  Together, they each lugged a tray into the front room. Annie saw what they were doing and went into the kitchen to get another one. Gia had already set up the bar and Flynn went to make himself a drink.

  “You want one?” he asked Gia and tossed her a naughty grin. “Did it work?”

  “Did what work?” She realized he was talking about his distraction method. Hell yeah it had worked. All she could think about was his hand up her dress. For his benefit, though, she merely shook her head. “I’ll have a glass of white wine.”

  “Coming right up.”

  Annie brought in the bread and cracker baskets and put them next to the meats and cheeses. “Wow, there’s enough food here for an army.”

  Flynn came around the bar and handed each woman a glass of wine. He didn’t seem to notice Annie’s odd square dancing dress, but he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Gia. She didn’t have time to bask in his attention because the doorbell rang.

  Gia briskly scanned the room, patted her hair in place, and went to let in her guests. They had all come at the same time, which was convenient but also overwhelming. Emily brought pies, Maddy wine, and the Rodriguezes—Gia still hadn’t officially met Tawny—beer. Greetings and introductions were made and everyone made themselves at home in the front room while Gia carried the pies to the kitchen.

  Flynn took drink orders, and for the first forty minutes everyone drank, ate, and chatted. Annie seemed comfortable with the crowd, who probably had a lot more in common with her than they did with Gia, city girl and disgraced television personality. Clay wandered the room, examining the animal heads. Gia had actually started naming them.

  “You haven’t found any homes for the trophies?” he asked.

  “Nope. But I haven’t really tried. You’re welcome to take any of them home.”

  “No, thanks,” Emily chimed in and Maddy laughed.

  “Seriously? You don’t want ’em?” Lucky said and rose to his feet to take a closer look at Bullwinkle.

  “They give me the creeps,” Gia said.

  “They might look good in the cantina; what do you think?” He bobbed his head at Tawny.

  “I think Ray Rosser would have a heart attack in prison if he knew you had them,” she replied.

  “Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m thinking.” Lucky rubbed his hands together and Rhys laughed.

  Gia had heard that the two men hated each other’s guts. There was a lot to the story, but she wasn’t familiar with the details.

  “Feel free to take them,” she told Lucky.

  “What do you think of that elk head in the inn?” Maddy tilted her head sideways and squinted up at the animal’s beady eyes.

  “I’m not feeling it,” Rhys said.

  “Me neither,” Emily agreed.

  Everyone laughed. Annie complimented Tawny on her cowboy boots and Lucky told her that his wife was a custom boot designer.

  “She’s currently working on a pair for Lucinda Williams.”

  Annie’s eyes grew wide. “Wow . . . I love her. What do they look like?”

  “Come over to my studio,” Tawny said. “We’re just up the hill and you can have a look.”

  Flynn finished up at the bar and took the seat next to Gia. His nearness gave her a surge of courage. She hated to break up the conviviality in the room to talk about her residential program. Everyone was so warm and approachable. She could see being friends with these people, actually inviting them into her life. In New York, where everyone seemed to want something from her, she hadn’t had many friends. But the whole point of this gathering was to win her neighbors’ approval for the plan.

  Gia let the conversation flow while everyone dug into the platters of food. Flynn got up to refill drinks and wineglasses, came right back to Gia, and squeezed her knee, signaling that it was time.

  She cleared her throat and a hush fell over the room. “Thanks, everyone, for coming. I know you’ve been curious why a city person like me bought an active cattle ranch in the middle of . . .”

  “Nowhere,” Maddy finished, and there were scattered chuckles.

  Gia resumed, relieved that she hadn’t committed her first faux pas. “I know you’ve also been curious about the T Corporation. By now you’ve probably figured out that there is no T Corporation . . . well, there is, but it’s just me. I set up the corporation to protect my identity while purchasing the property for obvious reasons.”

  There were a few head nods and even smiles.

  “Some of you know”—she stared straight at Rhys—“that I’m still under scrutiny by the authorities and the press. I hope their occasional presence here doesn’t cause any of you inconvenience.” Flynn had said she should be open about the pending investigation so she followed his advice. “I’ve hired Flynn to represent me and hopefully this will get squared away soon.”

  Gia saw Clay shoot a look at Flynn. Flynn nodded to him and Gia would’ve sworn she saw Clay grimace.

  “In any event, I wanted to share my plans with you.” The circle of guests tightened around her. Flynn put his hand at the small of her back, willing Gia to breathe. “I’ve hired Annie, who will be living here this summer, to help me plant a Christmas tree farm. In the fall we’ll also be planting organic alfalfa and meadow hay.”

  She told the group about Annie’s agricultural background and turned the stage over to her. Annie seemed much more at ease than Gia and methodically mapped out their strategy.

  “If we decide to go cut-it-yourself there will be more traffic on the main road during the holidays. Because the McCreedys and the Shepards use McCreedy Road to access their homes it probably won’t affect their families as much. But Lucky and Tawny . . .”

  Lucky raised his shoulders. “It’s off season for us so not a huge deal. Maybe I’ll put out a big sign advertising the cowboy camp.”

  “Absolutely,” Annie said. “We could make it a whole community affair. As far as the hay . . . no chemicals. We may use crop dusters a couple times a year to drop organic fungicides and pesticides. If it spooks the cattle we can skip aerial applications altogether.”

  “Not a problem for my herd,” Clay said. Gia had heard that he was a former naval fighter pilot and owned a couple of planes that he regularly flew over his property.

  Annie finished her talk to murmurs of approval. Her neighbors seemed genuinely relieved that Gia wasn’t trying to skirt the rules to put in a high-rise or a factory-outlet center.

  “Sounds good,” Clay said. “Depending on the traffic, you may have to eventually widen the main road. But we’re talking some years out before those trees are ready to cut, right?”

  “Probably eight,” Annie said. “In the next couple of weeks we’ll be tilling and planting. After that it
’ll be quiet for some time.”

  Annie was great, Gia thought. Her confidence exuded competence and Gia could tell Clay was impressed. He was definitely Gia’s tough nut in this crowd. Lucky and Tawny had an easygoing vibe. Rhys was always so poker-faced, it was hard to tell where he stood on anything. Except when it came to his wife. Gia had never seen a man more adoring; he’d filled a plate for her, rubbed her back, and looked at her like she was the only woman on earth. The other two men were pretty smitten as well. It was a little difficult having a front-row seat to all that affection. For a minute she wondered what it would be like to have Flynn look at her that way, then dismissed the thought.

  He was her lawyer and her friend.

  Flynn called for everyone’s attention. “Gia has more she’d like to tell you about.”

  Gia could feel the air crackle with tension. Clearly they thought the plan had been too good to be true. Gia owned a thousand acres of prime California real estate. They all knew what a risky venture agriculture was and Gia was an investment banker after all. Hopefully her women’s home would set them at ease because it was better than turning the place into a mobile-home park or any of the other myriad possibilities they likely feared.

  She grabbed a bottle of wine off the bar and refilled a few glasses before speaking. Then she launched into the details of her plan, leaving out the personal reasons why the program was so important to her. Gia didn’t like talking about those days, not because she was ashamed but because she didn’t want her family’s ruin and impoverishment to define her. She didn’t want to be known as a rags-to-riches story. Instead, she told them how she would house the women, how they would attend daily classes ranging from household budgeting to improving their job skills. How they would work on the farm, help run the business aspects of it, and hopefully leave the ranch capable of supporting themselves.

  “How will you find these women?” Rhys asked, his expression grim. “I don’t want people with criminal records moving to Nugget.”

  “I’ll—”

  Before she could finish Clay jumped in. “It sounds like a halfway house . . . alcoholics and women with drug addictions.”

  Gia sucked in a breath. Iris hadn’t had a criminal record and hadn’t been an alcoholic or a drug addict. She’d simply been poor through no fault of her own. But look at the stigma it held. According to Rhys and Clay, in order to be indigent you had to also be a degenerate. It made her queasy.

 

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