Читать книгу Convincing the Rancher - Claire McEwen - Страница 13

CHAPTER FIVE

TESS UNDERSTOOD WHY Renewable Reliance wanted to put windmills in this valley. From inside her Jeep she could hear the wind roaring. She wasn’t looking forward to stepping outside the shelter of the vehicle.

But she had to brave the gale because Allen Tate, the CEO of Renewable Reliance, was arriving in Benson next week for a video shoot. The footage would be used in a promotional video for the windmill project, and also for advertising the company. The CEO considered himself a pioneer of alternative energy and he’d decided that Benson was a good place to foster that image. And actually, his judgment wasn’t bad. These jagged hills east of Benson absolutely fit the definition of the word rugged.

They looked like teeth, Tess decided. Teeth from some strange monster with bad oral hygiene. The brown rock had been pushed up abruptly by long-ago geologic forces and didn’t seem to belong in the same region as the surrounding fields. As if to underscore the contrast, cows grazed placidly right below the rocky hills, seemingly oblivious to the dramatic cliffs looming above them.

Tess took a sip from her water bottle, wishing it were coffee or brandy or something warm. Maybe when all this was over she’d write a book—a city girl’s survival guide for tiny cow towns. First on her list of tips would be to invest in a small espresso machine. Her second tip would be to always have a flask of something stronger on hand, for moments like this one.

And her third tip, unrelated to beverages, would be to make sure, before agreeing to go, that you’d never slept with any of the tiny-cow-town officials.

She sighed and zipped up her parka, wrapped her scarf tightly around her neck and pulled her wool cap over her head. Taking the small camera from her purse, she opened the door, only to have the wind slam it shut in her face. She shook her head in awe. There was certainly wind power in this area. She tried again, this time shoving the door with her shoulder. She burst out into the chill afternoon, her senses immediately overwhelmed. All she could hear, smell and feel was wind.

Holding on to her hat, she trudged into the gusts, scanning the side of the road for places where a few cars could park at the same time. To her relief there was another large turnout beyond the one she’d parked in. Perfect for the film crew. Across the road from it was a gravel driveway and a rustic wooden gate, which led to the fields below the rocky teeth.

She walked over to take a closer look. If they all hopped the gate they could shoot footage of the CEO right here, with the twisted hills behind him. They could get some pretty light if they filmed in the morning, and she knew the wind would be quieter at that time of day, as well. She took a few pictures and stood staring at the view, trying to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything else she needed to do while she was here.

The sound of an engine approaching distracted her, and she looked up to see a white pickup pull up behind her rental Jeep and stop. A man jumped out and started running toward her. She had an instant of panic before realizing it was Slaid.

“Tess, are you okay?” He was shouting as he ran across the road and over to the gate where she stood.

No, she wasn’t okay. Slaid wore faded jeans, a shearling jacket and cowboy boots—and they all suited him perfectly. She suddenly wished he’d gained weight in the past two years, or gone bald or gotten married. Anything that would make him less attractive.

“I’m fine. How are you, Slaid?”

He stopped in front of her and she noted that he wasn’t even out of breath. “I saw your Jeep and thought maybe you had some car trouble and needed help.”

The idea that he’d assumed she was some kind of damsel in distress was a little irritating. “Thanks. I’m good. Just taking a few pictures. We’re doing a video shoot out here next week.”

His brows rose. “A video here? Why?”

“This is where they’re siting the windmills.” Tess shoved her hands in her pockets, wishing they could have this chat somewhere warmer.

“You’re kidding me.” His voice was suddenly rough and low. “And when were you going to tell me about this?”

“Actually I was planning on keeping it a big secret,” she snapped back. Slaid scowled, evidently not amused by her sarcastic humor. “I was going to stop by on my way back to town. The email with the map and directions just came an hour ago.”

His expression grew even more contorted as he looked over at the hills. “Well, the directions must be wrong. They can’t site their project here. This is my land.”

“No, that can’t be right.” She looked around at the desolate landscape, wondering if she’d made a mistake. She didn’t think so.

“I think I know my own pasture, Tess. And those are definitely my cattle over there.”

His attitude wasn’t helping their situation, or her mood, which was rapidly deteriorating. She was cold, and a dull ache drummed in her temples, probably from all this wind. “Well, I suppose it’s possible I read the map wrong. Why don’t you take a look at it with me? It’s in my car.”

They walked in troubled silence back across the road and wrestled the doors open. Slaid sat in the passenger seat and Tess pulled her hat off and ran her fingers through her tangled hair. “I don’t know how you live with this wind.”

Slaid didn’t answer, just reached for the folded map on her dashboard.

Tess sensed the distress radiating off him and figured she’d steer clear of any more small talk. She fished in her bag for her file of documents and found the page she’d been looking at previously. She handed the directions to Slaid. “Look, it says mile marker twenty-three.” She pointed ahead of them, where a small white sign had been placed close to the ground, the number twenty-three clearly visible. “So that’s it, right?”

Slaid was quiet, looking at the map before folding it carefully and setting it back on the dashboard. He handed Tess the directions. He didn’t look at her, just kept his eyes on the landscape in front of them. “That’s my land,” he said again, his voice heavy.

“Well, if you own it, then the company has made a mistake. I’ll give them a call and get this cleared up.”

“No, I don’t own it,” he said. “It belongs to the Bureau of Land Management. My family has leased it for years. Since I was a little kid and my dad wanted to expand our business.”

“So it’s not your land.”

The look he shot her was full of angst. “It’s land we’ve held the rights to. It’s land we’ve been promised we can count on for our business.”

“Well, windmills and cattle can coexist.” Tess tried to sound encouraging. “It doesn’t mean your business is ruined.”

“What do you know about that, Tess?” He turned to her then and his expression was hard, his eyes piercing. “You come out here from the city with your files and your computer and you want to tell me what my business needs? Well, I’ll tell you what it needs. Consistent access to good pasture.”

“Which I’m sure you can work out.”

“Really? And are you speaking from your vast knowledge of raising cattle? And constructing windmills?”

“There’s no need to be rude.” Her knuckles were white on the file. What she’d give to just shove him and his misdirected anger right out the door of her Jeep.

He went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “Your project is a threat to my livelihood. A threat to my family’s business—our heritage. A heritage we created with hard work, good ranching practices and sticking up for ourselves when someone tries to push us around.”

She’d make one more attempt at rationalization, and then she really would kick him out of this car. “I think you’re seeing things in black-and-white, Slaid. It can work. It works all over Texas. It works at Altamont Pass just a few hours west of here. There are hundreds of cows grazing perfectly happily under those windmills.”

“You make it seem so simple, but you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She bristled all over but remained calm. “You are making this too personal, Slaid. The world is changing and we all have to adjust or get left behind. It’s basic economics. It’s Business 101.”

“Okay, so here are some economics for you. If they let me keep my lease, they’ll still kick my cattle off while they’re building the windmills. Which means I have to bring them all back to my ranch, and buy extra feed because I won’t have enough pasture. And since we’re in a massive drought and I’m already buying extra hay and water, the expense could quite possibly destroy my ranch. That’s Business 101, Tess. Now, I’ve got to get going. I have a lawyer to call.”

He opened the door and got out, letting the fierce wind slam it behind him. He was reflected in her rearview mirror as he stalked back to his truck, jerked open the door and got in. His engine revved and he pulled the big vehicle into a quick U-turn. It got smaller and smaller as she watched him drive away, heading back to Benson to fight the windmills.

His anger seemed to linger in the cab. Maybe the wind would blow it all away, because she didn’t want it and certainly didn’t deserve it. She rolled down the window for a quick blast of fresh air. Ugh. She’d known this gig would be a hard sell, but she hadn’t expected to end up in a personal battle with the mayor.

The anger and worry she’d seen in his face were understandable, but it didn’t give him the right to be such a condescending jerk and lash out at her. And now she was angry. Angry enough to work harder on this project than she’d ever worked on anything before.

The setting sun colored the jagged rocks on the hillsides a pinkish hue and cast deep shadows behind them. It was dramatic in a moonscape kind of way. She could see how windmills would change that forever. Doubt pricked at her, and she shoved it down. It wasn’t her job to care, she reminded herself. She had no opinion in this fight. She was hired to outline the various benefits to the project. And there were real benefits. Big ones like reliable jobs and clean energy. She’d keep her focus on those positive outcomes and work hard. If she did, Slaid would see all of his outdated arguments blown away by her own. Obliterated in a blast of high desert wind.

She rolled up the window and drove back to Benson, making a mental list of talking points that would support the wind project. It would be a big challenge, but she’d been through tough work situations before and come out on top. She’d get through this one, too.

After parking in front of the cottage, she grabbed a notebook and listed all of her ideas. Staring at the bullet points, it occurred to her that the skills she used in this job—the thick skin, the tenacity, the ability to work alone in a hostile environment—were all skills she’d honed during her disastrous childhood. They were coping skills she wished she’d never had to develop, but they certainly served her well on days like this.

Suddenly she felt tired. It had been a rough first week in Benson. Watching the last rays of sun turn the town pink and gold, she wondered what it would be like to have a different job, one that was less combative, that didn’t require her to be so tough all the time. Because on days like this, she grew weary of fighting so many battles.

Tess hit the steering wheel with her palm, jolting herself out of her self-pity. She jumped out of the car and stormed into the cottage, angrier with herself than Slaid now. Life threw all kinds of crap at people every day—she was living proof. And sitting around moaning about it didn’t help. She was lucky to have a job she was so good at. Pity parties could lead to horrible choices. Choices like the ones her parents had made when they’d decided drugs were more important than keeping custody of her. Choices like she’d made when she was sixteen and discovered drugs herself, emerging from her self-inflicted haze pregnant and more alone than ever.

She would not fall into self-pity just because the mayor of Benson was rude. Slaid Jacobs and his soon-to-be-homeless cows weren’t worth it. Tess shed clothes as she walked through the house, and by the time she was in the bedroom, all she had to do was throw on her running gear and grab her iPod. Then she was back out the front door.

She welcomed the freezing wind now. It was invigorating and cleansing, and it scoured any remaining wisps of self-pity from the hidden corners of her soul. Her mind cleared, her confidence flooded back and soon she was charging forward in the growing darkness, trusting herself to navigate the bumpy back roads of Benson. She was moving fast and on her own—just the way she liked it.