Grit: A Love Story on 7th and Main Page 9

  “I expect it’s not an easy thing to talk about, but think of it this way. Life’ll be a lot less stressful if you don’t feel like you’re hiding your past, don’t you think?”

  He opened his mouth, closed it, then nodded. “Yeah.”

  Cary stood and held out his hand. “Mr. Hagman, you seem like an honest person and you’ve paid your debt. But Melissa has a right to know.”

  Stu stood and took his hand. “And I understand why you’d do the background check. We protect the people we love.”

  Cary shook his hand and released it. “Well, I’m glad you understand, because she’s going to be mad as hell.”

  Chapter Nine

  Melissa was so bored her eyes were starting to cross. She’d agreed to be on the Committee to Save Jordan Valley, but so far the co-chairs were disorganized and didn’t know quite what they wanted to accomplish.

  Did they want to stop the Allen Ranch development from putting two thousand houses on one of the prettiest stretches of the Jordan Valley?

  Definitely yes.

  Did they want to stop all development of the property? Even a smaller number of houses or small ranches? Keep it ranchland? Push for a conservancy?

  No one quite knew that part, and plenty of old-timers were very wary of telling anyone what to do with private property other than making it clear that two thousand houses on one piece of land was not acceptable.

  Joan and Melissa were sitting in the back, listening to the debate while Abby sat next to them, drawing her favorite subject—the new baby goat—in her drawing pad. She’d finished her homework and was probably bored. Unfortunately, the meeting showed no signs of ending.

  “I think we should approach it from a conservation perspective.” Sherry Granger, one of the co-chairs, was speaking. “We don’t have the water for that many people. It’ll push down air quality. A lot of people in Oakville are here because the air is better than in the valley.”

  Melvin Raphney, one of the oldest members of the committee, grumbled. “I want to know what it’s gonna do to the roads. We already have park traffic. That’s bad enough.”

  “Do we know that’ll change with more houses?” someone asked. “Wouldn’t they have to build roads if they build houses?”

  “There’s only one road in and out of Jordan Valley,” Melissa said. “You go far enough and there’s a dead end. It doesn’t connect to anything. Never had to. It’s ranchland.”

  “Can they build something more? Put a road over to Granite Creek? Something like that?”

  “I don’t know,” Sherry said. “But it seems like roads would be a problem.”

  “The problem is we don’t know anything.” Joan was sitting next to Melissa and stood to speak. “Because they haven’t done a report on anything. We don’t know how much water this place will suck up. How much stress it’s gonna put on our roads. What would a golf course do? Is that going to affect local wildlife? I think that’s the first thing we need to push for, some kind of environmental study.”

  Murmurs of agreement around the room.

  “Uh…” Sherry smiled nervously. “Joan, do you know how to go about doing that? Who would do an environmental study in Oakville?”

  Joan looked at Melissa. “Honey?”

  Her eyes went wide. “You’re asking me?”

  “Is that something you can look up online?”

  “Uh…?” Her mother’s search engine skills definitely needed an upgrade. “Maybe talk to Adrian Saroyan in Metlin? He’s an honest guy and he’s sold a lot of the property in downtown Metlin that’s been developed.”

  Someone asked, “That Jan Saroyan’s grandson?”

  “I think so.”

  Joan said, “Yes, he’s Jan and Ana’s grandson.”

  More murmurs of agreement.

  Melissa said, “A lot of stuff he’s sold is property that changed uses, like from industrial to residential. That kind of thing. He might know where to start. I think what we need is an environmental impact study. See what kind of effect this would have on the air and the water—”

  “And the roads!”

  Melissa rolled her eyes. “Yes, Melvin. They would check the roads.”

  The old man crossed his arms over his chest. “Didn’t up and move to this place so I could sit in traffic like it was a goddam city. Pardon my language.”

  “I don’t think we’re in any danger of turning into Los Angeles.”

  “Mom.” Abby tugged on Melissa’s sleeve. “Are you almost done?”

  “Soon, baby.” She pulled Abby’s ponytail. “Give me… fifteen minutes. If it’s not over then, we’ll leave.”

  Sherry Granger stood, her hands clutched in front of her. “Okay, I think that’s a good first step. Either Maria or I will contact Adrian Saroyan and ask him for advice on what the best steps might be for this committee.”

  Joan said, “And I’m going to call the paper in Metlin. Have any of you read anything about this in the paper?”

  “Nope.”

  “Not me.”

  “I haven’t.”

  Joan nodded. “Seems like it might be a local story they’d be interested in. Lots of people in Metlin come up for the bluegrass festival and for shopping and the Christmas markets.”

  Melissa made a mental note to call Adrian and fill him in. He likely had no idea what was going on in Oakville, but she knew he was pretty outspoken about responsible development in Metlin, and he might be willing to get involved in this, especially if it landed his name and picture in the paper.

  The meeting switched from dispersed muttering to outright chatter, and Melissa picked up her purse and held her hand out for Abby.

  “Mom.” Her ten-year-old rolled her eyes. “I’m not a baby.”

  “Sorry.” Would she ever get used to having a preteen? Just the word made her shudder. “Get your stuff together and we’ll go.” She looked for her mom. “As soon as Grandma is finished talking to Melvin.”

  “Melissa?” Sherry walked over to her. “I wanted to ask you, because someone said you knew Kevin Fontaine? The rep from the holding company who spoke at the council meeting?”

  “I don’t know him.” Melissa took the file Sherry handed her and started paging through it. There were news clippings of Kevin Fontaine breaking ground on a golf course in Santa Maria. A printout of the man in a suit at what looked like a board meeting. “I know the last name, but I don’t really know him.”

  Abby jumped up on the chair next to Melissa and leaned over her shoulder. “Is it that guy?”

  “Yeah.” She tugged the edge of Abby’s T-shirt. “Abby, don’t jump on the chairs.”

  “I know him.” Abby pointed to the picture in the file. “He’s one of Uncle Devin’s friends.”

  Melissa turned to Abby, forgetting about the chair. “What?”

  “Uncle Devin, Aunt Audrey’s husband.”

  “Yeah, I know who your Uncle Devin is.” Calvin’s younger sister, Audrey, had married the slimiest of slimy salesmen. Devin would do anything for a buck, but he sucked up to Greg and Beverly, which meant that Audrey and Devin were family favorites.

  Abby pointed to the picture of the smiling man in the file. “That guy’s one of Uncle Devin’s friends. I’ve seen him at Grandma and Grandpa’s house.”

  “When was this?”

  Abby scrunched up her nose. “The last time I was there without you, I think. They had a party. There were so many people.”

  “That was six weeks ago.” Melissa glanced at Sherry. “Long before the council meeting.”

  Sherry’s mouth formed an O. “Well… that’s unexpected.”

  But was it? It wasn’t hard to imagine that Greg and Bev would try to interfere with Melissa’s life if they couldn’t get her to bend to their whims. There was definitely something going on, and she would be calling Greg as soon as she saved up enough aspirin for the headache it would cause.

  “Let’s go.” She patted Abby’s back. “Thanks, kiddo. Grandma and I will take care of it.” She looked
at Sherry. “I’ll let you know when I do, okay?”

  Sherry nodded. “Sorry. It’s always complicated when it’s family.”

  “Nothing I can’t handle.” She turned and followed Abby out of the church social hall where they were meeting.

  Dammit, Calvin. Of all the things to inherit, your parents have got to be the most work.

  Melissa walked to the truck and started it, waiting for her mom to join them.

  “Mom?” Abby piped up from the rear seat.

  “Yeah, honey?”

  “Is Uncle Devin being shitty?”

  She winced, fairly certain Abby was repeating something she’d overheard from one of her own conversations. “Don’t call Uncle Devin shitty. But… possibly yes.”

  Abby sighed. “He doesn’t like goats.”

  “Uncle Devin?”

  “Yeah. He thinks my goat-milk-soap idea is stupid.”

  Melissa turned. “Did he say that?”

  Abby rolled her eyes. “No. But I can tell. Just like I can tell that you really like goats even though you say you don’t.”

  “They’re not my favorite animals, Abby. But I think your soap idea is great and sounds like a good weekend project.”

  “And I can make money.”

  “Yes, you can, tiny capitalist.”

  Abby’s eyes gleamed. “And with all my money, I can buy more goats.”

  Melissa couldn’t stop her laugh. “Nice try. But no.”

  “Cary thinks my goat-soap idea is great too.” Abby’s face pinked with pride. “He says it sounds really smart.”

  Melissa felt her heart beat a little faster. “That’s because Cary is also very smart, and smart people recognize other smart people.”

  “But Uncle Devin thinks goat soap is stupid.”

  Melissa said, “Uncle Devin is a shitty person and you shouldn’t listen to him.”

  “Mom!”

  “What?” Melissa realized what she’d said. “Oh. Right. Don’t use that word.”

  Abby was shaking her head sadly. “I think I need to report you to Grandma.”

  “You better not, you snitch.” Melissa swung her arm over the seat and managed to land a pair of fingers in Abby’s armpit, tickling her daughter until she wiggled away, laughing. “Don’t forget, I know where you sleep.”

  Abby was panting and laughing. “I know where you sleep too.”

  “Truce then.”

  Abby let out one last giggle. “Truce.”

  Melissa hoped her mom wouldn’t talk too long. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and imagined Cary half-naked, climbing Halsey Rock. Mmmmm. That wasn’t a bad way to pass the time. Was that legal for “friends who kiss?” Would Cary like that she was imagining him half-naked?

  All the way naked?

  Melissa felt her cheeks go hot. She was too old to be feeling teenage flutters when she nearly had a teenager herself, but Cary Nakamura made her feel like a goofy high school girl.

  No, she hadn’t felt this kind of flutter even back in high school. In high school and college, she’d been focused on her future. On school. On getting a degree. On remaking the ranch.

  Then she met Calvin and she’d been focused on building their life together. Not that they didn’t have fun, but her head was full of plans for the future. Graduate. Get married. Have a baby or two. Save for the future.

  Everything had gone according to plan until nothing did.

  In a split second, Calvin—and everything Melissa thought her life would be—was gone. Now Melissa had her own ranch. Her own farm. Her own family.

  And along came Cary, promising… things. Kisses. Romance. Thoughts that left goose bumps all over her skin.

  What was she doing?

  She rubbed a hand over her face and glanced at the glowing church door. Her mother still hadn’t emerged. “So Abby, when did you tell Cary about your soap idea? At your birthday party?”

  “No! A couple of days ago when he came by the ranch to talk to Stu.”

  Melissa’s brain froze. “What?”

  “Sorry. Mr. Hagman, not Stu.”

  “No, when did you say Cary came by the ranch?”

  “When I had that day off school. You were gone and he came by to talk to Mr. Hagman.”

  About what? If any of the cows had gotten loose in Cary’s groves, Stu would have told her. If there was an issue on their adjoining land, Cary would have talked to her.

  The passenger door opened, and Joan hopped inside. “Sorry! Let’s head home, ladies. I don’t know about you, but I need a piece of that coffee cake before I hit the hay. What do you think, Abby?”

  “I vote yes for cake!”

  “Melissa?”

  Melissa wasn’t thinking about cake. She wasn’t thinking about sleep. Or half-naked Cary. Or romance. Or shivers.

  Why the fuck had Cary come to talk with her ranch foreman? And why had neither of them mentioned it for two days?

  She put the truck in drive and headed back to the ranch.

  She didn’t know.

  But she would.

  She knocked on the door to the Hagman’s trailer as soon as Abby was in bed, knowing that Stu might have already turned in. He rose before the sun to start work, so he and Leigh kept an early bedtime.

  Too bad. She needed to know what was going on.

  He answered the door in an undershirt and immediately caught that Melissa was not there to chat. “Hold on.” He closed the door and opened it a few minutes later with a flannel on over his shirt. The nights in Oakville were always cool even if the day was blazing.

  “Sorry to bother you so late, Stu.”

  “That’s fine.” He ambled out to the picnic table. “Been meaning to talk to you. Just got busy with the pump guy.”

  The water pump in Christy Meadow had been malfunctioning, and thirsty cattle took priority over almost everything.

  “That’s fine.” She sat down at the table. “So why did Cary come by?”

  “Did he call you?”

  “No. Neither of you did. My ten-year-old daughter mentioned he’d come by to see you.” She folded her hands and tried to remain calm. The idea of two men she respected going behind her back pissed her off, but she needed to know if they had a good reason. “We got an issue on the ranch I need to know about?”

  “No, ma’am.” Stu cleared his throat. “Mr. Nakamura came by because he found out that I’d been in prison a few years ago in Oklahoma.”

  Dammit. Melissa schooled her face. “You didn’t think you should mention that to me and my mom?”

  “I know I should have, and I didn’t. I apologize for that.” Stu’s shoulders sagged. “I guess I’ll tell Leigh we should be moving on.”

  “Don’t jump to conclusions, Stu.” She took a deep breath and contemplated her options. She’d never thought Stu had a lily-white past. You didn’t move states to “start over” if everything in your life had gone right.

  But she hadn’t expected this.

  “Did Carla know all this when she sent me that letter?”

  He nodded.

  “What were you in prison for?”

  “Possession of a controlled substance and assault.” Stu’s face was stony. “I was using when I got into a bar fight. Hurt someone pretty bad, and he was… kind of important. Locally, I mean. They threw the book at me. I served five; got clean in prison. Been out on probation for a little over five.”

  “What kind of drugs?”

  “Oxy.” He cleared his throat. “Other stuff when I couldn’t find that. Started with a back injury at work. I’d been roughnecking. Got hurt, but the oil company denied my claim, so no rehab. Doctors put me on a bunch of pills.” Stu made a face. “Just… took on a life of its own. I can point to all the reasons why, but it don’t excuse it.”

  “That’s powerful stuff, Stu. You’re not alone.” Oakville and Metlin didn’t have opioid problems as bad as other places in the country, but it was still plenty bad. “You clean?”

  Stu nodded.

  “You su
re?”

  He looked up. “Leigh’d leave me if I used again, Ms. Rhodes. I lose her; I lose everything. So yeah. I’m sure.”

  She nodded slowly. The truth was written all over Stu’s face. She’d seen the two of them together. Seen how Stu looked at his wife. Melissa suspected Stu would sooner cut off his own arm than lose Leigh.

  Melissa took a deep breath. “Well, this sucks.”

  “If you need to fire me, I understand and I don’t have any hard feelings. Please don’t blame Leigh though. She’s been—”

  “You legal to leave Oklahoma?”

  He blinked. “I… Yes, ma’am. Free and clear.”

  “You in a program or something?”

  He nodded. “Twelve-step. You can talk to my sponsor if you want. He’s back in Oklahoma, but we talk regular. He’s trying to connect me to someone out here.”

  Melissa nodded. “Why California?”

  “We headed to Idaho first. Thought we could head back to where we had friends and just work to make a living. Nothing fancy. Just work. I just wanted to be around good people, you know? Oil fields are a different kind of folks. Went to the Bradys first. They sent me to you.”

  “So the Bradys knew all about your record?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She was annoyed that Carla hadn’t trusted her enough to share the information, but then Carla’s dad and her grandfather had been close. She and Carla only knew each other by reputation.

  Melissa frowned, processing everything Stu had said. “Your back injury… You good to be on a horse?”

  “I’m good.” He nodded firmly. “I’m better now. I can get a report from a doctor if you want, but believe it or not, I met a physical therapy assistant in prison. He was a good guy. Showed me some exercises, and I was real steady about following his instructions. He knew his stuff, and I don’t feel anything around the old injury anymore, except when it gets real cold. One of the reasons Miz Brady thought California’d be a good place for me.”

  Melissa watched the man—his hands were folded, his shoulders hunched. The lines of his face told the story of a hard life, but the straightforward way he spoke told Melissa he wasn’t hiding anything anymore.

  “Sometimes life shits on you,” Melissa said. “Trust me. I’ve been there.”