I stared out the window of the hospital room. It was a dreary spring day, which was common, but I suspected the rain was God weeping. Not really. The weather suited the mood. I was trying to keep my emotions in check. I refused to show weakness. I hated showing weakness.
“You’re still here?” Oliver’s weak voice came from behind me.
I slowly turned and looked at the man lying in bed. He looked tired. I didn’t think he looked like a man on death’s door, but the doctors and nurses assured me that was the case. I was in awe of his strength. I had no idea he was sick. Yesterday when I had shown up to the house, he was still in bed. He politely asked me to drive him the twenty miles to the hospital.
Initially, I thought maybe he had the flu. He had just been on an airplane. Airplanes were nasty, germ-laden boxes. When he’d quickly been admitted with almost no questions asked, I realized something was wrong. It was all prearranged. It was like he was checking in at a hotel.
“I’m here, Oliver. I’m not going anywhere.”
He coughed. “Who’s running the farm?”
I laughed. “It’s raining. I’m not worried about planting right this minute. It will all hold.”
“Alex, I need you to promise me you will keep the farm running,” he said, a glimpse of the man I knew rising up. “That farm is my legacy. I don’t want it being sold off on an auction block.”
“You’ll be back home running the farm yourself,” I told him.
He chuckled. “That isn’t going to happen, and you know it.”
“Oliver,” I said, taking the seat next to his bed. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”
“I didn’t want anyone’s pity. I certainly didn’t want your pity. I hired you to do a job and you’ve done that. I’m impressed. I’ve made provisions to ensure you’ll be paid for as long as you stay on. I’m asking you to stick it out. I’ll have someone in there soon.”
I nodded. “You have my word. I won’t leave until I’m confident it’s going to be left in good hands.”
In the back of my mind, I wondered what he expected to happen. If he was gone and had no family, what did he need a farm for? I supposed his lawyer had the answers. It was none of my business. I would fulfill his wishes and move on. I was a bit of a rolling stone, never staying in one place for more than a few months.
He closed his eyes. I could see the man fading before my very eyes. I hated that I was the one that was there for him. I hated that the man was alone. He was such a good person. In my little fantasy world, he would have a big family surrounding his bed. They would be loud and raucous, little boys with skinned knees and little girls with cute little pigtails calling him grandpa.
I sat with him while he rested. It was another thirty minutes before his eyes opened and he looked at me. “Thank you,” he whispered.
“For?”
“For being here. For taking care of the farm. You’re a good woman, Alex. Don’t be so hard on yourself all the time.”
I smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He tried to smile but it ended up being nothing more than a tug at the corner of his lips. His eyes closed once again. He had requested no monitors, no beeping, nothing. He had a morphine drip that kept the pain at bay and kept him asleep most of the time.
I sat with him for another hour. Part of me knew he was gone, but I refused to acknowledge it. I wouldn’t leave until a nurse came in and confirmed what I suspected. My throat was raw as I fought back tears. I had known of Oliver for some time. He had been friends with my own grandfather, but I hadn’t really gotten to know him until the last month. I had come to think of him as my own grandpa and knew his death was going to leave a hole in my heart.
I stared out the window, watching the water droplets streak down the glass. It was representative of my heart. My heart wept. I heard the door open, followed by the soft soles of the nurse’s shoes.
“Hi,” she said in a low voice. “I’m just checking to see if he needs anything.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think he does.”
She looked at me, then Oliver, her expression softening. “I see,” she said.
I looked away while she did her thing.
“Take your time,” she said and walked out of the room.
They assumed I was a relative. Neither Oliver nor I had corrected the assumption. I took a deep breath, steeling my nerves, and got to my feet. I stood next to the bed, looking down at him. He looked peaceful, like he was enjoying the best nap ever. The pain I had seen on his face all week was gone.
“Goodbye, Oliver. I’ll take care of your farm. Sleep well, my friend.”
AlexI walked out of the room. “I’m leaving,” I said to the nurse, not stopping to hear what she was about to say. I couldn’t stay there another minute. I was on the verge of tears. I didn’t want to turn into a blubbery mess with an audience.I got back in my truck and drove. I felt numb. When I got within five minutes of town, I called Sadie, hoping she was off work.“Hey,” I said when she answered. “You free? I could really use a drink.”“Alex, it’s one o’clock in the afternoon. Since when do you day-drink?”“I need a drink. You don’t have to drink.”“I’ll meet you at Bob’s,” she said, naming the one bar in town. Bob’s also served as a diner and all-around hangout for the over twenty-one crowd, but it wasn’t all that surprising to see a toddler in the bar with a mom or dad on occasion.I drove to the bar, parking in the paved lot that had more potholes than solid blacktop. When I walked inside, I immediately spotted sleek black hair. It was easy to find her anywhere. She liked flash
DamionI sat at my desk, reviewing a new piece from one of my seasoned journalists when my assistant buzzed the intercom. “Mr. Whittle?”“Yes?”“There’s someone here to see you. He says he’s a lawyer.”I didn’t think I was being sued, but one never knew in the current climate. We weren’t in the business of celebrity news, which protected us from some suits but not all. I adjusted my tie, wanting to present a professional appearance.“I’ll be right out.”I got to my feet and opened the office door. The lawyer was nothing like the other lawyers I dealt with. The guy was wearing jeans, cowboy boots, a cowboy hat, and a bolo tie. He looked to be in his late sixties. I didn’t have to ask where he was from.“I’m Damion Whittle,” I said, extending my hand.“Good to meet you, Damion. I’m Harvey Larson. I’m your grandfather’s attorney.”I nodded, gesturing for him to go inside. “Hold my calls,” I said, not looking forward to the conversation I knew to be coming.Harvey had taken a seat already
DamionHe slowly nodded. “You heard me. Like I said, your grandpa, he was one smart son of a bitch. I tried to do what he did and lost money. He just had a knack for knowing what was a good bet and what wasn’t.”“Wow,” I breathed. “I never knew. He never mentioned investing. You knew him. There was nothing about him that said he knew the first thing about investing.”“He liked to keep his cards close to the vest.”“Shit,” I said, my mind still trying to process everything. “He left it to me?” Harvey waved the stack of papers. “It’s all right here.”I shook my head. “I don’t know what to say. Do I thank you? I feel like a shithead. I didn’t go to the man’s funeral. I don’t feel worthy.”“Honestly, I don’t think he expected you to go to the funeral. He planned it all to keep you from having to relive that experience.”I gulped down the lump in my throat. When Ann had died, I had been a wreck. My grandfather had flown out to be with me. I didn’t even remember the first few days after he
AlexI took a bite of my crispy bacon before sipping the black coffee. I had been starving when I walked into the only restaurant in town. People in town were used to me eating a lot. I burned a lot of calories doing what I did, and for now, I didn’t have to worry too much about putting on a ton of weight. I wasn’t exactly a bodybuilder, but I was stronger than most women.Correction, stronger than most normal women. Women that ranched and farmed were tough. I was proud to be what I considered one of the elite class of females across the country that could rein in a scared horse, load a bale of hay, and then cook up a hot meal for the menfolk. What I really loved was working my ass off on a farm and then sitting down to enjoy a meal someone else prepared. Like my breakfast. Any meal prepared by someone else always tasted a little better in my opinion.“Did you get those new boots you were looking at?” Sadie asked casually.I stuffed a buttery piece of pancake in my mouth, shaking my h
Alex“I’ll give it until the end of the week. If no one shows up, I’ll call the lawyer and let him know I need a body there or he needs to give me the power to hire a body.”“Good plan. I need to scoot. I’ve got an eleven o’clock.”“See ya later,” I said, not getting up. I had already been to the farm, taken care of morning chores, and was going to enjoy a lazy, late breakfast.With the initial shock of Oliver’s death easing, I was able to focus on what came next. I had a couple of calls from potential clients. The easy thing to do would be to walk away, take a new job, and put Oliver and his farm behind me. It was how I lived my life. I didn’t get attached to people or places. I kept everyone at arm’s length.I checked the time. I wanted to be rebellious and ignore the farm. I couldn’t. I didn’t know what I believed about the afterlife, but I wasn’t interested in pissing off any ghosts. I had made a promise and I intended to keep that promise.I left the diner and drove out to the fa
DamionI knew my grandfather had someone minding the farm, but no one had said anything about that someone being a beautiful young woman. I had seen the truck pull up and watched through the dining room window where I had just sat down to enjoy a sandwich with Oliver. When I saw the truck, I assumed it was the hand Harvey told me about. Then she got out of the truck and I was less sure about my assumption. He had told me someone named Alex was running things. That didn’t look like an Alex to me.I waited and watched as she disappeared into the barn. I wondered if she worked for Alex. Before I ventured out to introduce myself, I got Oliver situated in the bedroom that used to be mine growing up. I walked outside, inhaling the fresh air with the scent of freshly tilled dirt lingering. It was strange how a scent could stir up memories. I took a few more deep breaths, closing my eyes and letting myself be transported to another time.When I opened my eyes again, I found her staring at me.
DamionI winced, hating to piss the woman off any more than she already was. “I can’t.”“You can’t?” she asked, one light brow raising and a hand going to her hip. “What do you mean you can’t? You can’t, or you won’t?”“I need to get back inside.”She looked up at the sky, the sun shining bright, and then back at me. “The sun won’t hurt you. Slap on some sunscreen and you’ll be fine.”“Later,” I said, not appreciating her condescending tone. I had tried to be nice, but she was being rude. “I’ve got a lot to take care of inside the house so I have somewhere to sleep tonight.”She rolled her eyes. “Why are you even here? You and I both know this isn’t the life for you. You aren’t the kind of guy that likes to get his hands dirty. An editor that sits in an office and probably has an assistant that waits on him hand and foot isn’t going to make it out here. Maybe you were raised on the farm, but that doesn’t mean you can keep up with the lifestyle now. You’ve gotten soft.”I leaned forwar
AlexI felt giddy. The sun was barely sending up its shots of pretty oranges and yellows into the morning sky when I drove down the long gravel driveway. I was going to make it my mission in life to make Damion’s life a living hell.I wanted him to hate the farm and pack up and leave. I didn’t like him. He was arrogant and obnoxious. He was the kind of man who thought he could snap his fingers and anyone and everyone would jump to do his bidding.I couldn’t wait to show him I wasn’t one of those people. He could fire me if he wanted. That would free me from my obligation to Oliver. If his grandson ran me off the property, there was little I could do about it. Damion would sell the farm, take the money, and run back to New York. It would be sad to see it go to someone else, but I had to believe the person that bought the farm would keep it going.Oliver had said he wanted the farm functional. He hadn’t specified he wanted it to be in his grandson’s hands when it functioned. Hell, he ha