The Kentucky Cowboy's Baby. Heidi Hormel
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are you, a caveman? I already told you there’s some mistake.” She moved closer to whisper what needed to be said so no one—especially not her mother—could hear. “You didn’t even visit. When he was...when the doctors said that he...you didn’t visit. Why would he leave this to you? Did you call him? Talk to the attorney?”
“Are you saying that I scammed Gene? My God, he was kin. He watched out for me when I first started riding bulls.”
“What other reason could there be?”
Bobby Ames pretended to clear his throat.
Pepper moved around the room restlessly as the silence stretched. Not only was her plan on the line, her mother’s future was, too. The ranch would have been plenty to keep Faye in yogurt and tofu. One good thing about her mother was that she didn’t need a lot of cash to get along. That’s why Pepper had been so sure the community garden plan would work.
“Now, we need to discuss this frankly,” Bobby Ames said, still using his TV-attorney voice. “There’ll be no more talk about this will not being legal. It is. Faye and the chief looked everywhere for another one. There was nothing at the house. I called around to other attorneys and there was nothing. This is his will.”
Pepper wanted to say no. She wanted to scream no, but she was nothing if not a realist. She left the dreaming to her mother.
“Why me?” AJ asked.
Yeah, she wanted to know that, too.
Bobby Ames adjusted his glasses. “Could be that it’s an old will and you were his cousin? Or maybe because you saved his life.”
“I’m not sure I saved him,” AJ said, moving his daughter to his other shoulder.
“The way Gene told it was that if you hadn’t run into the arena and grabbed him, he’d have been stomped to death. He said the clowns had gotten tangled up with a loose calf and you were the first one to him. He said you took a good kick to the ribs.” AJ’s hand went to his side. “I believe you nearly lost your spleen.”
“He thanked me plenty,” AJ said. “I never expected—”
“You don’t need to make any decisions today,” Bobby Ames said, “except this thing with Pepper and the grant. What did Faye mean?”
Pepper searched for a way to understand the new lay of the land. She’d never imagined Daddy Gene wouldn’t leave the ranch to Faye. She’d never asked him about it in those last weeks. They’d all known he was dying but they’d still tried to deny it until the very end.
No one spoke and the silence stretched out long enough that she could hear the deep breathing of the baby. Come clean, girlie girl, Daddy Gene’s voice said in her head. Dear Lord. What would they do? What would the state office where she’d filed her paperwork say?
Pepper said, “Daddy Gene loved Faye, you all know that. You know what he would do.” Her voice squeaked to a stop. Her chest hurt from holding back the tears. She had to get through this next bit, then she could fall to pieces. She needed to protect Faye’s future and her own plans for the garden, her patients and the town. Pepper breathed deeply as she’d seen her mother do before a big announcement. “I’m planning the Angel Crossing Community Garden here at the ranch and we needed a grant for the equipment. Faye agreed I could use the value of the ranch’s land and outbuildings to match the money the state would grant us. It was the only way to get the money, so I put that on my application. I’ve already set up the greenhouse using my own savings and promised loans to my farmers. I told you all about it, chief. Remember? There would be fresh food for those who worked the ground and plots where others could grow specialty plants that they’d then sell and pay me land rent. It would be run by a nonprofit and support small businesses as well as senior and children’s health. The mayor even agreed it was a good idea.”
“It is a good idea,” Chief Rudy said, cutting off AJ when he started to protest, “but you didn’t tell any of us that you basically were promising money you don’t have or that the plan had been put together with a spit and a prayer.”
Finally, AJ spoke, his voice low but no less angry. “So you’ve used my ranch and now there’s a lien and I won’t be able to sell.”
“It seems that you’ve gone awfully quick from ‘I can’t believe this is mine’ to ordering us all around because you inherited some land,” Pepper said, facing him and forcing her voice to be steady. “There isn’t a lien on the property. I’ve only just put in the paperwork. I’m sure I can explain things and rescind the application...if I have to, which I’m not convinced I’ll have to.”
“It’s the Spring Equinox right now,” Faye said out of nowhere, as she sometimes did. “This was always Gene’s favorite time of year. He said spring was when anything was possible.”
Butch, the Australian shepherd, sat happily in the front seat of Pepper’s small SUV. The one her mother had insisted Daddy Gene buy and then paint an eye-searing purple. On the plus side, Pepper was easily recognizable. It meant when she went to homes up in the mountains, her patients immediately recognized her. Faye may have known what she was doing. Maybe. Pepper pushed away the panic and flexed her hands on the steering wheel. “Butch, we’re in a lot of trouble, and I don’t mean because you sat in Dr. Cortez’s chair. I used a ranch I didn’t own to try and get money from the government. It’s not like they gave me any money or that I lied. I really, really thought the ranch was ours. It was just two weeks after Daddy Gene died. I might not have been at my best, but there was a deadline.” The black, brown and white dog with mismatched eyes turned and gave her one of his smiles. Butch had been picked out of a litter of wriggling puppies to herd Faye’s Beauties—her alpacas and llamas. She’d talked Daddy Gene into getting the animals about a year ago, about the same time as the ranch that had rented most of Santa Faye Ranch had closed its gates and broken its lease. Faye insisted the fleece from the animals, which she planned to spin and weave, would make up for the lost revenue. Not long after the animals arrived, Daddy Gene had gotten very sick again. Faye had been more worried about him than about making her spinning and weaving venture profitable, even though she loved her Beauties. Butch, who acted like a poodle in a hairy shepherd body, had worked hard with her to earn his good citizen certificate and therapy training. He visited the office on the days it was just her and Claudette. Dr. Cortez, who came to the clinic twice a week, didn’t like Butch or believe any animal could help calm patients. Butch actually did a good job with people facing needles—kids and adults alike.
Only two minutes from the ranch, Pepper needed to come up with her talking points fast. She’d avoided AJ and Faye this morning. She had, however, called an attorney—not Bobby Ames—for advice that wasn’t free. He’d said she might have a case for overturning the will, and he didn’t think she’d end up in jail, probably, for using the ranch to try to get the grant. He’d advised withdrawing the application immediately, but not explaining why unless she was forced to. The goal was to not look like a liar and a cheat to the agency. Pepper understood what he wasn’t saying. If she ever wanted Angel Crossing or herself to get another grant from the state or anyone else, she had to clear up this problem quickly and quietly. She’d already started and so far so good.
Pepper parked next to AJ’s king-cab pickup, dusty and dented. “Come on, Butch,” she said unnecessarily. The dog was already at the front door waiting for her. She gripped her tote tighter and went in.
Butch raced from her side, yipping with excitement. He disappeared into the kitchen. Pepper took papers to review later that night out of her tote, then hung the bag on its hook. She toed off her clogs and slipped her feet into sandals. A place for everything and everything in its place. One of those sayings from kindergarten that had more than a little ring of truth.
Butch ran back to her, his doggy smile stretching across his face. No more stalling, Pepper. Butch sprinted ahead of her again. She strained to hear voices.
“Faye, I’m home.”