Читать книгу The Husband She Can't Forget - Patricia Forsythe, Patricia Forsythe - Страница 13

CHAPTER FIVE

“SO, TELL ME,” Carly said, studying Luke’s solemn face.

“At my aunt and uncle’s barbecue, I mentioned buying property. I bought the property next door.”

“Next door?” Carly frowned. “Next to Tom and Frances? Are you going into the cattle business?”

“No, next door to you.”

“What?” She stared at him, not quite able to take in what he was saying. “You can’t mean the Withers place?” She jerked a thumb in that direction. “Why?”

“It has certain...aspects I need.”

“Aspects? You mean rocks? There’re plenty of those next door. But I’ve got news for you—there’s no door, or anything else over there. Not even a shed or a shack where you could hang a door.”

“Um, I know.”

“Why on earth would you want it?” She rubbed her forehead, trying to make sense of this. “The soil’s so poor and rocky a goat couldn’t survive on it. You can’t grow grass on it to graze cattle. The only thing that place has going for it is the stream that empties onto my land, right below my apple trees, which has long since brought most of the topsoil with it.” She held her hands up, shoulder height. “And if this rain keeps up, I’ll have the rest of the topsoil by July. That’s why Martin Withers couldn’t sell the place after his dad died and the county condemned the house and outbuildings. It’s worthless.”

“Not completely.”

“Yes, completely, unless...” She paused, trying to remember what someone had mentioned recently about the land. “Except I heard there was an offer from someone who wanted it for—”

“My uncle bought it.”

“Tom? I thought it was purchased by a group of hunters looking for private land to hunt deer and birds.”

“They were interested, but Tom bought it for the same reason and sold it to me.”

Now Carly’s mouth dropped open. None of this made sense. “For hunting? Since when did you become a hunter? You never shot a gun, except at a carnival. You never wanted to kill anything. People change, Luke, but I can’t believe you changed that much.”

Luke shook his head. “I didn’t, Carly. I haven’t. I’m not interested in hunting or in topsoil. I’m not a farmer. I’ve got another project in mind.”

“Another project? What kind? I’m telling you, nothing can grow there. It’s only shale and...”

Eyes wide, her face draining of color, she stared at him. “Is that it? The shale?”

“Yes.”

Horrifying thoughts turned over and over in her mind. “For fracturing shale to get out the oil? Fracking? Luke, you can’t do that. You must know about all the problems it’s caused. Besides, it’s never been considered worthwhile in this part of Reston County.”

“I do, but—”

“Earthquakes, polluted water.” She threw her hands wide. “My place is downstream from you. I use well water on my plants. It will ruin my gardens, my apple trees. My livelihood. This is an organic garden, Luke. I’ve worked hard to get it established. Do you have any idea how many tons of topsoil I’ve bought, hauled and spread? It’s taken me years to get this place established. This could ruin me.”

“I know that, Carly. I’m not trying to ruin your land.”

“Oh, it could simply be an unintended consequence? That makes me feel a whole lot better.”

“Carly, calm down. It’s not like that.”

Panic pushed at her as her mind conjured images of parched crops and blackened fields. Breathing hard, she tried to get her rage and disappointment under control. “If it’s not fracking to get out the natural gas, what is it?”

“It’s another extraction method that’s being developed. I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you right now. The scientist I’m working with, Dr. Shelby Wayne, is keeping it under wraps because previous ideas and processes have been stolen.”

“Is this so-far secret method as harmful as fracking?”

“Dr. Wayne has run endless computer models factoring in every possibility, and she assures me it’s safe. But, to tell you the truth, we haven’t done extensive tests yet.”

“And what about the aftermath of extracting oil? All the polluted water that has to be injected deep into the substrata, where it causes earthquakes?”

“I know that, Carly. We’re trying to develop a process that will avoid that.”

“You’re trying, but you don’t know your so-far imaginary process will avoid those consequences? You’ve run computer models but you haven’t done tests? So you could ruin my land, anyway, for...for old times’ sake?”

“Of course not.”

“Then for an experiment. Why, Luke? Why here? Why now?”

“To stop an actual fracking operation.”

“What? Like I said, it hasn’t been considered worthwhile to extract oil and natural gas in this part of Reston County. Who is—”

“My father.”

Carly shook her head, trying to clear her increasing confusion. “Your dad? When did he get into the natural gas business? I thought he was in real estate development.” She looked up. “I thought you were in real estate development. In Dallas. In fact, when we drove to Toncaville today, you made it sound like you’re still a carpenter. Did you deliberately try to fool me? Were you laughing at me the whole time?”

“Of course not, Carly. I wouldn’t do that.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me sooner? Was that what the ride into Toncaville was all about? Bragging about my produce, helping me rescue tortoises?”

“You invited me, remember?” He pointed to Wendolin’s hope chest. “I’d honestly forgotten about the letter.”

“But if you’ve known about this project for any amount of time, you could have phoned me. Why didn’t you warn me, Luke?”

“Because I was trying to talk my dad out of this—”

“So you could do it yourself? Play at being the big energy producer? Do you see yourself as the mighty oilman on the white horse, riding in to rescue the local oil industry before it disappears completely? Rescuing it would be a great thing if it didn’t involve fracking.”

“No, Carly. I’m exactly what I’ve been for years—an employee of Sanderson Enterprises.”

“Oh, I think you’re probably more than that.” She clapped her hands onto her hips. “You are Robert’s son, after all.”

“Try to put that aside for now. As far as real estate development is concerned, that was—is—our main interest. My dad invested in an exploratory energy company years ago, but nothing came of it until the past couple of years when it started paying off.”

“By ruining people’s property, land and water. Unbelievable.” She turned away from him and paced around the living room, coming back to face him.

“Some people would argue that it means jobs in economically depressed areas like Reston County,” he said.

“Those people probably aren’t farmers with land to protect.” Her lips trembled and furious tears formed in her eyes. “I’ll fight you on this, Luke. I’ll take you to court, and—”

“It wouldn’t do any good, Carly. You wouldn’t have a case.”

Carly stuck out her chin and narrowed her eyes at him, throwing in a quick head-to-toe assessment so he’d know how enraged she was. “Oh, really? And why not?”

His face was grim as he said, “Because Sanderson Enterprises owns the mineral rights to your land. Legally, we can put a well or a fracking operation wherever we need to. It’s possible that we’ll find gas on my land, but it might be easier and more efficient to drill on your land and run it over to the well we’ll dig on mine. We’re just not sure yet.

“I know that sounds harsh, Carly, but I’m trying to be honest here, tell you exactly what could happen.”

“No.” Carly’s legs began to shake. Luke seemed to see the depth of her distress and leaped forward to take her arm. She fought him, jerking from his grasp. She backed up until she felt the sofa behind her knees and she collapsed onto it. Her breath came in gasps as she said, “No, Luke. That’s not possible. This is our land. My parents bought it fifteen years ago from...”

“My dad.” Luke turned and moved away, taking the chair opposite her. He sat, leaning forward, his hands on his knees as he watched her reactions. “He’d owned it for a few years, but when he decided to sell, he gave your parents a bargain price in exchange for letting him retain the mineral rights. And... I’m sure my dad drove a hard bargain—generous on the one hand and relentless on the other.”

“They wouldn’t have done that, Luke!”

“But they did. They probably never thought the mineral rights would be worth anything. No one around here did. And they weren’t worth anything for many years, but it’s different now.”

“Yeah, and obviously Robert Sanderson knew.”

“It’s the way he’s always done business. The way he grew up. The way his family did business. It was common practice to sell the land but retain the mineral rights. It’s the same way here. You must know that, Carly.”

She did, but she’d never thought it would apply to her, to her land. Why hadn’t her parents told her? For that matter, why hadn’t Tom and Frances told her? She’d thought they were her friends.

She felt sick. Betrayed all around.

“And now he’s taking advantage of those mineral rights. How many other pieces of land has he ruined? Have you helped him ruin?”

“None!”

“As far as you know.”

He shook his head in frustration. “I can’t answer that or give you any facts I don’t have.”

“From what you’ve said so far, you wouldn’t tell me even if you did know.”

Before he could answer she threw her hands in the air. “Never mind. This is a pointless...merry-go-round. Nightmare-go-round,” she amended. “It’s time for you to go, Luke, and...and don’t come back.”

“Carly, if you’d listen to me, I can at least tell you—”

“Lies?” She held up her hand. “No.” Her sense of anger and betrayal made it impossible for her to go on with this conversation. “Go.”

As if to emphasize her fury, the windows rattled in their frames and the ceiling fan rocked back and forth.

“Earthquake,” she said accusingly, as if merely talking about oil extraction had caused it.

“Well, it’s not my fault.”

“Yet.”

Luke swung toward the door. “I’ll be back in three months and then you’ll have to listen to me.”

“Don’t count on it.”

In a swirl of emotions, she watched him stride across the yard, climb into his truck and drive away.

He couldn’t do this. There had to be a way to stop this catastrophe from happening. She stood, paced around the living room and tried to focus. Finally a moment of clarity surfaced.

“Lisa,” she said out loud. Lisa was in real estate. She would know what to do.

* * *

SHAKEN AND SICK at heart, Luke drove away from Joslin Gardens. He’d done it again, hurt her when he hadn’t meant to. He’d stumbled around, tripping over his good intentions, and landed face-first in a disaster. He pounded his fist on the steering wheel. If only she’d listened to him, let him explain how this had come about, but she’d been too angry and upset to hear what he had to say.

She was right. He should have told her as soon as he finalized the deal with Tom to buy the old Withers place. Reasons and excuses ran through his mind. Because he’d spent the entire drive from Dallas stewing over delivering the trunk and seeing Carly again, he’d thought he was ready to handle everything in a businesslike manner.

Not even close. He’d been thrown off-kilter when he’d seen her, struck by her strength and beauty, the success she’d made of the gardens her parents had struggled to establish.

He’d slipped into some fantasy world where the two of them would be friends, neighbors for a time, and the past would be forgotten. If he’d been thinking clearly, he would have done the right thing and told her straightaway. He only had himself to blame.

He would give her time to calm down and then try again, or maybe call Gemma Whitmire or Lisa Thomas and ask their advice.

“Yeah, right,” he muttered. “They’ll give me advice, all right, by telling me exactly where to go.”

For the next three months he would be tied up in Dallas before he could move up here and be on-site for the development of the new process—practically on Carly’s doorstep. She would have to listen to him then.

Distracted by his thoughts and annoyed with himself, Luke rounded a curve a mile from Joslin Gardens and slammed on his brakes to avoid a skinny boy on a beat-up, overloaded bicycle. Although he was riding at the edge of the road, there wasn’t much room on the narrow highway. Boxes were attached on the front and back of the bike, and they appeared to be loaded with greenery. Glancing around to make sure there wasn’t any traffic, he pulled up beside the kid and put down his window. The boy gave him a suspicious glance but kept on pedaling.

Driving at a snail’s pace to stay alongside, Luke called out, “Hey, buddy, can I give you a ride into town?”

The boy looked over and shook his head. “No, thanks. I’m okay.” As if he couldn’t help himself, he lifted his arm and wiped his sweaty face on the sleeve of his T-shirt. His raggedly cut dark hair stood on end and he left a streak of dirt across his cheek.

“I’m going that way. Might as well make it easy on yourself.”

“Nah. This is easy enough.” Even as he said it, his front wheel wobbled and his thin legs shook with the effort of climbing a small rise.

“Riding in my air-conditioned truck would make it a whole lot easier. And I’ve got some water.”

Luke viewed his own persistence sardonically. He knew exactly why he was doing this. His failure with Carly was pushing him to do at least one thing right today. This reluctant boy happened to be in the path of his good intentions.

The boy paused and then stopped, licking his dry lips. The mention of water had caught his attention, but he narrowed his big, brown eyes. “You won’t try anything funny, will ya?”

Luke swallowed a laugh while appearing to take the boy’s question seriously. “No, I promise. I’ll even let you hold my cell phone the whole way into town in case you want to call the sheriff for help.”

“I ain’t calling the sheriff.” He considered the offer for a few more seconds. He studied the pickup and then Luke’s face. “Okay, then.” The words seemed to be dragged out of him. “Just to the middle of town.” He nodded toward the full boxes. “I’ve got some stuff to sell.”

“Do you think you’ll need a license?” Luke asked, half-jokingly.

The boy smirked. “I’m a kid. Who’s gonna hassle a kid for selling stuff?”

Obviously this was a street-smart boy, Luke thought as he set his hazard lights to flashing and got out to help load the bike and boxes into the back of his truck.

It took a couple of minutes to unfasten the boxes, which had been attached to the frame with a clever arrangement of boards and rusted wire. Luke couldn’t even see exactly what the boy planned to sell because the boxes were so full of leaves.

When they finished, Luke opened the truck door and held it while the boy climbed inside. “My name’s Luke Sanderson. What’s yours?”

The kid treated him to another suspicious look as he fastened his seat belt. “Dustin.”

Luke slammed the door and walked around the front to climb behind the wheel once again. As promised, he handed over his cell phone, which made the boy blink in surprise, but he took it.

Luke reached behind the front seat to grab a bottle of water, which he handed to Dustin. This time, there was no argument as he twisted off the cap and gulped the cool drink.

“Thanks, mister,” he mumbled.

“Do you live around here?” Luke asked.

“Yeah.”

Luke gave the boy a curious glance. “Have you got a last name?”

“Dustin’s enough,” he said.

Luke took the hint and didn’t ask any more questions, but he couldn’t help speculating. He couldn’t tell his age—anywhere between ten and thirteen—but he seemed small for whatever age he was. Other than being unkempt, Dustin appeared to be healthy enough—if somewhat underfed.

They finished the ride into Reston in silence and Luke dropped the boy off in front of one of the supermarkets, along with his bike and boxes. Dustin returned the cell phone, gave a wave of thanks and wheeled his bike around back. Luke continued on his way, his thoughts equally divided between Carly and the ragged boy he’d just met.

Say what she would, Carly had to understand that people needed jobs in this area, families deserved more and better resources than what were currently available. He had no idea what Dustin’s story was since the boy hadn’t been much of a talker, but it was obvious he had needs that weren’t being met. Luke decided he would tell Frances about the boy. If anyone could help, it was his aunt.

* * *

“I DON’T SEE that you have any alternative, Carly.” Lisa looked up from the deed they’d found on file at the county courthouse.

Carly had called her parents, who had confirmed that Robert Sanderson had retained the mineral rights. They had apologized for not telling her sooner, but, at the time, they were so thrilled at the bargain they were getting, they’d never thought mineral rights would be an issue.

Now Carly and Lisa sat side by side at an ancient, polished table in the conference room of the hundred-year-old red-rock building, reading every word of the deed while dust motes swirled in the sunlight streaming through the window.

“You mean I have to let them go ahead with this project—whatever it is?”

Lisa lifted one perfectly sculpted eyebrow at her. “If you hadn’t blown up at Luke, you would probably know what this project entails.”

“Maybe.”

“Certainly.”

Carly flopped back against her chair. “Lisa, he didn’t even seem to know. It appears that he’s backing a scientist. I’m guessing he’s a petroleum engineer, who’s got an untried, untested process in the works.”

“He must know something about it, Carly, or he wouldn’t be putting money into it.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Troubled, Carly put her elbow on the armrest and propped up her head with her palm while she considered everything she’d learned from Luke, which wasn’t much. “He believes in this Dr. Wayne, which means this scientist has done something in the past worth believing in. But I don’t think Luke would blindly hand out money without some kind of guarantee of a return on his investment.”

“That’s probably true,” Lisa answered, thinking it over. “He is Robert’s son, after all.”

“Don’t remind me. Or yourself.”

Lisa went back to examining the deed and Carly sighed. Lisa was right. She’d been in the real estate business for ten years, working hard to establish her reputation and secure the type of financial security she hadn’t known when they were growing up. She had a head for figures, was smart with money and was bone-deep honest. Any advice Lisa gave would be carefully considered—even if it wasn’t what Carly wanted to hear.

“But I can file a lawsuit or get an injunction or something, right?”

“It wouldn’t hurt to talk to an attorney, but filing lawsuits and injunctions costs money, which you should probably save for an emergency.”

Distressed and exhausted from the roller coaster of emotions she’d been through that day, Carly dropped her forehead into her hand. “In case my garden is ruined and I have to live in my truck—or the back of my Upcycle shop.”

“On which you haven’t even signed a lease yet,” Lisa pointed out, returning the deed to its folder.

“But what if...?”

Lisa placed her hands on top of the folder and tapped her fingers. “Enough with the ifs, Carly. As hard as you work, there’s no possibility that the shop will fail, and its success will be another income stream for you, better than the one you’ve got now with your helter-skelter approach to selling the pieces you’ve renovated.”

“Helter-skelter?”

“You know it’s true. That’s why you’ve got a barnful—”

“Not a barn,” Carly interrupted. “More of a large shed.”

Lisa ignored the interruption. “Of refurbished pieces sitting and gathering dust. Hoarding them won’t bring you any money.”

“I’m not hoarding.”

Lisa gave her a level stare. “Carly, remember my grandparents? The house I grew up in? They didn’t start out as hoarders but they ended up that way because they couldn’t part with anything. Why keep all the pieces you’ve redone when you could sell them and earn money?”

“Which I’ll need.”

“My point exactly.” Lisa returned the folder to the clerk then said, “It doesn’t do you any good to borrow trouble. Whatever Luke is planning is going to happen whether you get hysterical about it or not, but it’ll be a lot easier on you if you calm down and focus on the things you can control—like your two businesses.”

Begrudgingly, Carly stood and followed her. “I hate it when you’re right.”