Читать книгу An Unlikely Rancher - Roz Fox Denny - Страница 8
ОглавлениеJENNA WOOD SAT at her sister’s dinner table and draped a napkin across her lap. “I have news. Today I finalized buying the ostrich ranch in New Mexico I told you about last month. Movers will collect our things from storage tomorrow. Andee and I will leave at the end of the week. Salad, anyone?” She forced herself not to wince as she passed the bowl across the table to her brother-in-law, but finally set it down when he didn’t take it.
Jenna’s sister, Melody Carter, and her husband, Rob, both dropped the rolls they were buttering.
“You can’t be serious,” Rob, a JAG attorney stationed nearby at the Pentagon, sputtered through a laugh.
“I am. I know you guys thought it was a passing fancy.” Jenna picked up the salad dressing, bracing herself for the full onslaught of their reaction. “My funds were wired and I’ve received confirmation from the seller’s Realtor. I’m now the proud owner of 300 acres, 1,500 birds, a two-story home, plus a single-story, three-bedroom rental in a town near my ranch. Our ranch,” she stressed, smiling down at her serious-faced six-year-old daughter.
Rob frowned at Jenna. “Look, Mel and I know it’s been rough on you to have the Air Force investigating Andrew’s collision with that Navy flyer. Thorough investigations take time. Especially when the planes had to be fished out of the ocean. I can get your contract voided on the basis of your being a grieving widow.”
Jenna stiffened. “I don’t want out of the contract. I want a clean start for Andee and me before her school starts.” She glanced again at the girl, who’d been too quiet and withdrawn since her dad’s accident.
Melody reached across the table and squeezed Jenna’s hand. “I assumed we’d talked you out of this folly. You’ve always lived on a military base. What do you know about ranching?”
“I’ll learn, Mel.”
Rob finally slid the salad bowl over. He gestured with the tongs. “Mel’s right. I hate to say it, Jenna, but you aren’t thinking straight.”
“Mom thinks it’s a good idea. It’s why she stayed on after the funeral, so I could visit a local ostrich ranch. Get a sense of what I’ve got ahead of me.” Jenna poured the salad dressing.
“How reliable is Mom or Dad? They moved lock, stock and barrel to Costa Rica weeks after Dad retired,” Melody argued.
“That’s exactly right. That’s why they’re reliable in this—they’re proof that you can make a dramatic new start at any age. They researched and chose a place where their money will last. And they’re the ones who recommended this place in New Mexico.”
She stopped to study them, acknowledging their concern. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—listen to her own self-doubt. “Look, I can’t thank you guys enough for helping move us off the Florida base and for letting us stay here temporarily. But even here—”
Jenna had to break off, catch her breath, before she said slowly, “Everywhere I turn I see men and women in uniform. We’ve been here ten months.” She lowered her voice, looking hesitantly at Andee. “I think the commission is bent on proving pilot error. They’re discounting Andrew’s countless missions in war zones.” Jenna idly split her roll, barely murmuring, “You know about the reports saying he and the Navy pilot argued. Should that destroy his career?”
“War can mess with a man’s head,” Rob said.
Melody nodded. “Yes, we all saw a marked change in Andrew after his last tour in Afghanistan. You said he refused to go for a physical. Whether or not the commission finds him at fault, you need family now, Jenna.”
She tensed. No one knew how strained her marriage had been at the end.
“Andee, honey, I forgot your milk. Will you go to the kitchen and bring the carton from the fridge?”
Jenna waited until after she’d gone to put a finger to her lips.
Oblivious, Rob continued, “Some chest thumping goes with being a fighter pilot. And rumors always circulate after a non-combat accident. They fade away, so it’s no reason to uproot Andee. Let the commission finish its work.”
Jenna added a dollop of dressing to Andee’s salad. “He was three short years from retirement, Rob. We discussed leaving the East Coast. I’ve always wanted land where I could have animals and plant a garden. Mel, you know how much I loved the Army base in Germany when we were kids and Mom raised chickens.”
Rob ate his salad as Andee scampered back with the milk. “Ostriches aren’t chickens,” he said. “They’re big, powerful birds. They kick and bite.”
After pouring Andee’s milk, Jenna set the carton aside. “Ostriches only act out if they’re frightened, according to the American Ostrich Association website. They’re curious creatures who like shiny objects. The people I bought from advised against wearing jewelry when I work with them. Plus, the couple who owned the farm I toured in Georgia has raised birds for ten years and they’re doing really well.”
“Even so, New Mexico is still the Wild West,” Rob said.
“Please be happy for us,” Jenna begged, suddenly blinking away tears.
Pretending to fuss with Andee’s hair, she gently cupped the girl’s ears and said quietly, “Mel...if we stay here, there are bound to be negative comments about Andrew.” Jenna dropped a kiss on the child’s forehead and smiled because Andee had clearly taken an interest in their conversation.
Melody and her husband exchanged guilty glances.
“Of course.” Melody hastily passed Jenna the meat platter. “But you call us the minute you get there. And if... Well...our door is always open if you want to return.”
* * *
FLYNN SUTTON WATCHED his newest customer jockey a four-passenger Cessna Skylark into the hangar he’d just rented out. It was Flynn’s third rental since he’d finished clearing the runways of the old airpark he’d bought while serving in the Air Force.
That had been before he’d been shot up and landed in the military hospital with a new knee and shrapnel wounds in his hip and thigh.
The cloudless blue sky and shimmering heat of his native New Mexico helped to cleanse the stench of war and dull the painful loss of his best friend.
Chip Talbot had flown the search-and-rescue mission that bitterly cold afternoon when their chopper had been shot down in Kandahar province. Only dumb luck had let Flynn crawl out of the wreckage alive.
He counted himself lucky again that he’d invested in this airpark over the twelve years he’d served Uncle Sam. It gave him the fallback he’d needed when his career with the Air Force was over.
In the beginning it had been his intention to stay in for twenty, retire with a good pension, come here and teach flying in his golden years. He’d had to cut those plans short—or move them up, depending on one’s view of his current situation.
Disability pay covered the cost of his renting the house in town. He’d have money enough to keep his dream alive, providing he filled his hangars and lowered his blood pressure so he could pass his next physical.
Imperative if he hoped to teach flying.
But maybe he was asking for too much. Unlike Chip, he had his life and a future.
Shading his eyes, Flynn tossed a wave to the pilot of a red-and-white, single-engine Piper Cub taxiing to the caliche runway from another stall.
Travis Hines, the twenty-year-old son of a local land developer, was a bit of a grandstander. Or maybe the kid just made him feel old at thirty-three.
Still watching the plane, Flynn idly wiped his greasy hands on a rag. He grimaced as the Piper lifted off in a wobble of wings and a full-throated growl.
Dropping his mirrored sunglasses over his eyes, Flynn dismissed the show-off and limped into his makeshift office. He tucked his client’s check into the bank deposit bag for when he and his dog went home at lunch.
* * *
JENNA TIMED THEIR arrival in Deming, New Mexico, to coincide with the moving van hauling their worldly possessions. Over her sister’s continued grumbling, Jenna had traded her compact car for a Jeep Grand Cherokee. The purchase had seriously depleted what was left of her savings, but as she pulled up outside the realty office, she felt a renewal of hope.
Hope had been missing from her life for longer than she had admitted to anyone.
The office looked like so many other buildings she’d seen in the virtual tour. It was flat-roofed, beige stucco and blended with the sandy landscape.
Taking Andee’s hand, Jenna stepped inside.
The only person in the room was an older man seated at a messy desk. Without hesitation, she introduced herself to him.
“I see, Mrs. Wood. Welcome. I’m Bud Rhodes. Oscar left you an envelope along with the house keys. He said he included notes about his ostrich operation.” Bud pawed through a pile on his desk, found the envelope and handed it to her across the counter.
She stared at it for a moment. “I assumed Mr. Martin would walk me through everything,” she said slowly.
“Sorry. I thought you knew he’d moved to Hawaii.” The Realtor laughed at the oversight. “Oscar employed a local man by the name of Don Winkleman to help with the birds. I reckon he’s been handling things since Oscar skedaddled.”
“I see. I hope his notes are detailed...” She opened the envelope but couldn’t focus on all the paperwork she was seeing. “This business is all new to me. Everything here is new to me.”
“Well, now, we’ve got a right, nice little town. What you see here is our commercial district. You and the little lady,” he said, smiling down at Andee, “need to visit our museum. It dates back to the 1916 raid by Pancho Villa. We’ve even got artifacts from one of the original Harvey Houses that catered to transcontinental railway travelers. It’s open now, if you’d like to take a tour.”
“I’m afraid I can’t.” Jenna glanced at her watch. “I’m to meet our moving van at the house right about now.”
She was exhausted from the long drive and the heat. And admittedly unsettled by the news that Oscar Martin was gone and hadn’t told her he’d be leaving and she’d be plunged into ranching straightaway. Thank heaven, he’d left her with someone to help.
“No problem. I’ll mark where you’re going on this map. Your property isn’t too far off the main highway. It’s about four miles out of town.”
“And there’s a rental home?” she suddenly thought to ask. If Oscar Martin hadn’t told her he was leaving, what else hadn’t he told her? “Here in town, correct? And it’s occupied?”
“Yes.”
Well, that was a relief, anyway.
“Belonged to Oscar’s great-aunt,” Bud continued. “When she passed on, he elected to keep it for added income. The house sits about here.” He pointed to a square on the map. “The address is on the deeds in your packet.” He drew an X approximately two blocks into the square. “It’s currently rented by a nice young fella who lived here as a boy. He returned a few months ago to open a business.”
Bud stood and went to the window to peer out.
“I ’spect you just missed him. Before you came in, I saw his pickup parked outside the bank.”
Relieved to hear that her renter was nice, Jenna thanked the Realtor for his help and guided Andee out.
“Mommy, I’m hot,” Andee complained as Jenna unlocked the SUV.
It was a good thing Jenna had stocked a cooler with ice and water at the motel that morning. She opened a bottle and passed it to the girl. “We need to remember to drink more, sweetie. It’s much drier here.”
“Why?”
“I suppose because there’s no ocean nearby.”
Andee accepted that answer and buckled herself into her kid seat in the back.
After a brief check of the map, Jenna set out.
It took her less than fifteen minutes to find the rutted lane leading to the ranch.
Her first glimpse of the rambling two-story house was a letdown. It wasn’t as white as it had looked in the photos. The porch didn’t run all the way across the front. And the evergreens, maybe spruce, which she had thought shaded the house, were brown. Covered in dust, she guessed, squinting against the hot wind blowing the dust through her open window.
She shut the window and climbed out of the SUV, taking in the tufts of grass in the yard as she opened Andee’s door. She couldn’t really call the grass a lawn.
She had wanted so much for this life-changing move to New Mexico to be exactly what she and her daughter needed. Her family had told her that she didn’t know what she was doing. And she’d blithely argued that she’d done her research.
Nothing in her research had prepared her for what she was seeing now. And maybe that was why the previous owner had left town on the quiet.
There was more “lawn” evident in some of the pens that ran parallel to the highway, which was separated from her property by a strip of land and a perimeter road Jenna hoped didn’t get much traffic.
Groups of gangly birds were huddled under canvas-topped awnings. Since the dry breeze took her breath away, Jenna didn’t blame the ostriches for seeking the least little bit of shade. If Oscar Martin had a manager, there was no sign of him—or any living human being, for that matter.
She helped Andee down and they went into the house, where a second wave of fatigue swept over Jenna. It was only marginally cooler inside, and yet the inspector she’d hired through the Realtor had said the house had swamp coolers. Of course, she knew swamp coolers weren’t air conditioners and they worked better if a couple of windows were cracked open. It was at least reassuring that she could hear the sound of a motor running somewhere.
She had promised to call Melody the minute they arrived. But knowing that her sister and Rob insisted she was making a bad decision—and worried they were right—she decided to wait until she was settled in.
She glanced out the living room window and saw the moving van lumbering toward the house.
Good. A reprieve.
After telling the movers where she wanted her furniture and boxes to go, she and Andee went to unload the SUV. On her second trip, while her daughter remained inside unpacking her stuffed animals, the drone of an airplane directly overhead made Jenna pause. Unable to shade her eyes because she had both arms filled with clothes on hangers, she squinted to scan the sky.
She was surprised to see a small red-and-white plane flying incredibly low. So low, her heart skipped a beat. It swooped over the ostrich pens and for a moment blocked the sun, casting a hulking shadow.
Tearing her eyes from the plane, Jenna saw spindly-legged birds bolt from under the canopies and run awkwardly to the far end of the enclosure. The plane’s shadow followed, causing birds to bump into fences and one another. Then the plane made a right turn and headed for a low rise Jenna thought probably marked the edge of her property.
She held her breath and waited for the sound of a crash. Nothing.
“Mom,” Andee called from the doorway.
“I’ll be there in a minute, honey.”
At the fence, she had no idea what she should do to settle the agitated flock. Thankfully, before she could come up with a plan, they calmed themselves and wandered back to the shade.
Since she hadn’t heard a boom, Jenna assumed the plane must have landed. She had no idea she’d bought property near an airport. That very notion unnerved her.
“Mommy, are the ostriches okay?” Andee asked, appearing at her side.
“I think so.” Turning to go into the house, Jenna muttered, “That plane shouldn’t have flown so low.”
She watched her daughter carefully after that close encounter with the small plane.
She knew neighbors on base had discussed Andrew’s plane crash around their kids. And even though Andrew had been gone too much to be a hands-on dad, their little girl had always tagged after him when he was home. And he’d taken her to see his plane. Flying had been his life. He’d even bought her picture books of planes.
But since Andrew had come and gone so often, Jenna was aware that Andee hadn’t yet fully comprehend his death.
Up to now they’d only casually mentioned that Andrew was in heaven. But Andee was a bright child and Jenna’s mom had said there would be an appropriate opening to discuss what death meant.
This wasn’t the time, though, Jenna decided.
To distract them both, she toured Andee through the rest of the four-bedroom, two-bath house while two of the movers set up their beds.
The wood floors in the living room needed waxing, Jenna noted. And hot as it was, Jenna couldn’t imagine ever needing the beautiful old fireplace at one end of the room. But when she expressed that thought, the youngest of the three movers laughed.
“Nights in the desert can be brutally cold. I grew up in New Mexico,” he added as if to prove his point.
The kitchen was outdated but clean, its cupboards painted a sea-foam green. Jenna imagined she’d like them better in white. But she also knew it’d take time to put her stamp on the place.
After the movers left, she dug out the linens to make up Andee’s bed.
She wished she’d thought to note the call letters painted on the underside of that plane. Even if there was an airport in the vicinity, the plane had flown dangerously low. If the pilot had violated some local flight ordinance, she should report the incident.
The plane could belong to a local rancher. She knew it wasn’t uncommon for ranch owners to fly private aircraft. If that was the case, perhaps he—or she—would respond to a neighborly request to not swoop so low over her pens.
Martin’s ranch manager might shed some light on the matter. Where was he? He obviously didn’t live on-site. Later she would sit and read Martin’s notes. It would suit her if the helper only worked part-time. She hadn’t factored in the cost of hired help.
“There, Andee, your bedroom looks put together. Would you like to help me make up my bed?”
“Mommy, I wish there wasn’t a bathroom between our bedrooms. You’re too far away,” she said as she scooped up Cubby Bear.
“Honey, you’ll be fine sleeping in here. We’ll leave both connecting doors open. You’ll have your animals and dolls to keep you company.”
Andee’s shoulders slumped.
Jenna worried about how clingy she’d become since the funeral. “Tell you what. I need to phone Auntie Melody to let her know we arrived. Would you like to talk to her a minute?”
“No, it’s okay.” Andee wrapped her arms tightly around her much-loved bear and trailed her mother into her bedroom.
Jenna made her bed, then sat on it and punched her sister’s speed-dial number on her cell phone. She kept the call brief, putting a rosy spin on everything. She might have broken down if she’d heard the hint of an “I told you so.”
“Our next step,” she told Andee after ending the call, “is lining kitchen cabinets with the pretty contact paper I brought. Do you want to help peel the backing off after I measure and cut?”
“I guess so. Can we eat first? I’m hungry.”
“Sure. I’ll fix cheese sandwiches from stuff in the cooler and slice an apple for dessert. Tomorrow we’ll find a store and shop to fill our refrigerator.”
“Mommy, why isn’t our house near other houses like where we used to live?”
“This is a ranch and we need more land to raise birds as big as the ostriches.”
“Where are houses with other kids?”
That question stopped Jenna. She cleared her throat. “Soon we’ll hunt up the school where you’ll go in September. And I saw a park on the map the Realtor gave me. I’ll bet kids play there.”
That seemed to satisfy Andee, but it made Jenna wonder why she hadn’t given more thought to how isolated they’d actually be living here.
No, we’ll be fine. Pioneer women survived in much more isolated conditions.
They ate a light lunch, then lined the cupboards, a chore that took most of the afternoon. “Andee,” Jenna said as she pressed down the last piece of contact paper, “I need to look over Mr. Martin’s notes on how to care for ostriches. While I do that, why don’t you color?”
The girl ran to her room and came straight back with two picture books.
Jenna understood that Andee didn’t want to be out of her sight given that she’d left the child with her grandparents for a week after the funeral while she’d visited the ostrich farm in Georgia.
A farm, she might add, that looked much more prosperous than this one.
Then they’d moved in with Rob and Melody, and Jenna had hoped things would settle.
Stifling a sigh, she opened the envelope and started to read.
There were instructions about gathering eggs every other day and choosing some to put in incubators for hatching, similar instructions to those she’d gotten from the Georgia couple. She knew that eggs not sold to a wholesaler stayed in the incubators for forty-two days.
It seemed straightforward. It was as she’d told Melody: raising ostriches wasn’t difficult.
Oscar Martin apparently had derived income from four markets: the sale of eggs, feathers, meat and leather. The last two involved aspects of the business that didn’t appeal to Jenna. But it looked as if the manager was used to handling the meat and leather production for Martin. And it didn’t seem as if the man’s salary would break the budget Jenna had set up for herself.
“Before the sun sets, Andee, I want to inspect the pens, the hatchery and get a closer look at our ostriches. Would you like to come along?”
Nodding, the child closed her book, slid off the kitchen chair, picked up her bear and then reached for her mom’s hand.
“Oh, nice,” Jenna said as they left the porch. “There’s a slight breeze. It’s still hot, but that gives us some relief.”
“Ostriches are funny-looking,” Andee announced. “But they have pretty eyes,” she added, stopping to stare at the three birds that had ventured close to the fence. “They kinda look like Big Bird.”
“They do at that. Look at their long eyelashes.” Jenna pointed to one peering at them over the fence. “Each adult eats about three pounds of food a day,” she said, consulting the notes she’d brought with her.
“What do they eat?” Andee asked. She shifted her stuffed bear.
“Um, mostly grass. I suppose that’s why it’s much greener in the pens than in the yard around the house. We’ll be sowing grass seed in the empty pens, which explains why there are so many empty ones. When the grass comes up, we’ll move the birds and reseed the pen they were in.”
Jenna opened the door to one of several sheds that were really small barns. “Good, these bins are labeled. I see the grass is supplemented with alfalfa and corn that has vitamins mixed in it.”
“What’s supple...supple... What you said?”
“Supplement means ‘added to.’ Like we eat salad with our meat and potatoes. And I give you chewable vitamins as a supplement.” They left the shed and turned to the next page of notes. “The man who owned these birds said they do best living outside in the fresh air. But they need exercise. Each pen is big so they can run around.”
Andee ventured closer to the pen of milling birds. “I like being outside, too. Maybe I can play with them, Mommy.”
“Well, we will have to see about that. Perhaps you can pet some of the babies. I saw eggs under the lights in the incubators, but it doesn’t look like we have any smaller than some juniors in that pen farthest from the house.”
As she finished speaking, a small plane rose out of the direction where the earlier plane had disappeared. This one climbed higher and didn’t fly directly over them. Even so, she knew the noise of an engine winding up could put some of the birds in a flap.
Jenna watched the plane until it became a speck in the distance. The Georgia couple had told her that ostriches were excitable. And Martin, too, had indicated in his notes that being overwrought could lead to disrupted egg production.
Like it or not, Jenna decided, first thing tomorrow she needed to locate where the planes were based and register a complaint.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING, electing to breakfast at the café she’d seen in town, Jenna gave the waitress their orders for pancake combos and then casually added, “We’re new to the area. Yesterday I saw a couple of small planes in the air, but I don’t see an airport on the map my Realtor gave me.”
The waitress paused. “Airport? There’s none closer than El Paso. Oh, wait. I almost forgot, one of our hometown boys recently moved back and has reopened a defunct private airpark about twenty minutes out of town.” She popped her gum and stabbed a finger in the direction of Jenna’s ranch.
Later, after their breakfast was paid for, Jenna managed to extract from her the name of the road to the airpark. They buckled in and set off.
The road to the airpark was gravel and littered with potholes. After she hit a particularly bone-jarring dip, she muttered a prayer that she wouldn’t blow a tire or break an axle on the Cherokee.
Her sister had been right about that, too. Her old car wouldn’t have survived this treacherous drive.
At last she topped a small rise and looked down on a weather-beaten facility. Definitely the airpark, because runways marked by reflectors fanned out from the opening of a low-slung multiplane hangar.
Slowing, Jenna saw a plane parked outside what might be an office. She braked when she caught sight of a man standing on a ladder, his head buried inside the open airplane engine.
Setting her emergency brake, she fought an unexpected kick to her stomach. It shook her to see the lean man in an olive-drab military jumpsuit, the type Andrew and his fellow flyers wore.
She fumbled with the key as she shut off the motor, grappling with her feelings.
Andee unfastened herself, threw open the back door and raced toward the ladder yelling, “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!”
“No, no, sweetheart.” Scrambling out, Jenna registered the shock on the mechanic’s face as he straightened, dropped a tool and nearly toppled off his tall perch.
Jenna caught up with Andee just short of the ladder. She dropped to her knees, arms encircling her daughter even as her heart spiraled.
The blond stranger’s short-cropped, trying-to-curl hair didn’t resemble Andrew’s dark buzz cut. But he had those clear blue eyes—flyer’s eyes. Eyes the exact shade of a perfect sky for flying. It was the attribute that had first attracted Jenna to Andrew.
As the stranger descended the ladder, Jenna controlled her fast-beating heart as she cradled Andee, who by then had discovered her mistake and had begun to sob.
“Shh, sweetie. Mommy’s right here.” Even as Jenna’s gaze lit on the stranger’s scuffed boots, she heard his taut voice above her.
“Lady, I don’t even know you.”
Moving her inspection up his long legs, past narrow hips to a wider chest, she mumbled, “I’m so sorry. It’s your flight suit. My husband was an Air Force pilot. Andee’s barely six. I’m afraid she hasn’t fully grasped that her daddy’s...uh, in heaven.”
Jenna hugged the child tighter and kissed the top of her curls. She saw the man yank a red rag from his back pocket and wipe his greasy hands. And in the moment before he took a step back, she thought she saw those gorgeous blue eyes cloud with pain.
