A Matter of Trust (8 page)

“Excuse me? I don’t think I heard you right.
Are you telling me that aside from what that shithole community
stands to gain in jobs, the new hospital we’re going to fund, and
the new community hall, they want more?”

A new hospital? Where had that come from? He
wondered sometimes where Peter came up with things. Since this was
the first Ben was hearing of it, he figured maybe Peter had been
behind the scenes, working at sweetening the pot for this community
since Ben had left. “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” he replied.
“These people are smart. They know they’re the ones assuming the
lion’s share of the risk, so they want a bigger piece of the pie.
This is a win-win, Peter, for us and them. We really need to come
back with something so each of these families can see how they’ll
gain financially from this project—not just in terms of jobs but
how everyone will benefit. Right now, most here are focused on
basic human needs, how to feed their families, keep a roof over
their heads. They’re just getting by, little by little, so having
something more will go a long way to winning them over.”

“So it’s all about money—” Peter started,
and Ben had to pull the phone away. Talking to Peter could be tough
sometimes when he started down a certain way of thinking.

“No, Peter, it’s not just money. The man
here who was trying to talk sense to these people is pleading with
them to negotiate a better deal, but it’s also about their
community, the environment here, and an assurance of safety
measures. We need to show them we’re as good as our word and that
we’ll live up to what we say. We need to give them a guarantee that
we’ll succeed in safety where every other oil company has
failed.”

“But we’ve already said in our report that
we’re using cutting-edge technology. We’ve laid it all out.” There
was a scraping on the other end and then quiet, as if Peter had
shut a door.

“And so has every other oil company with a
history of lying, cheating, and falsifying reports. The paper’s
worthless. We won’t just be believed—we have to prove it to them.
We need the manufacturer’s report for all the equipment to show
them we’re actually going to do what we say.” Ben started pacing
the small cabin, listening to the sigh on the other end. “And then,
of course, there’s the safety issues that were disregarded. You
remember the misfiled report we never saw? That hurt us the worst.
It’s not one of our finest moments, that slip, and it did appear
that we buried it. I’m not surprised they don’t trust us.”

“Rick is in charge of that now. My son will
make sure that kind of slip doesn’t ever happen again,” Peter
said.

Ben had to hold his tongue, because the
decision to put Rick in such a delicate position was the one area
where Peter and Ben completely disagreed. “Fine, but it’s
imperative the people here are convinced that we’re telling the
truth.”

“I’ll see that Rick gets you everything you
need,” Peter said. “This so-called troublemaker…how much influence
does he have in the community?”

Ben knew what Peter was talking about:
paying off Jack so that he would keep his mouth shut and stop
stirring up the community with talk of renegotiations. That wasn’t
going to happen, because Jack Richardson was a good man, and Ben
wasn’t into playing dirty. He’d seen Peter do it a time or two, and
he wasn’t proud that he’d sat by and said nothing. There was
something about Jack and this community, though, that made him
unable to sit idly by and let Peter flex his muscles. He was pretty
sure Jack would stand up to him, maybe, and Carrie…he couldn’t help
thinking about her. A payoff would be something she’d never
understand. She would hate him.

“He’s not a problem, he’s a voice of reason.
Honestly, he’s our best hope of getting this project to go
smoothly. We need him on our side. Look, you sent me here to do a
job. Let me do it,” he said. It had come out a little strongly, and
maybe Peter sensed something about where Ben was coming from.

“Well, then, get the job done! This town is
our last holdout, and I want this project underway with no more
delays, no more problems. You understand?”

Yeah, he understood, but sometimes he
wondered whether Peter had gone so far over to the other side that
he no longer understand that people weren’t chess pieces to be
pushed around. This situation wasn’t something Peter could hurry by
buying off a few people and using his almighty power to intimidate
the town. If he tried that this time, with this project and these
people, Ben realized it could be the company’s undoing.

Ben poured coffee in the oversized red mug
in the warm and cozy kitchen of the main house. It was good, strong
coffee, the kind you could only get from the darkest and freshest
roasted beans, freshly ground by someone who understood what good
coffee was. That was something he appreciated.

“Ben, breakfast should be ready in about ten
minutes,” Alice said. “I hope you’re hungry! I made my aunt’s
famous breakfast sausage casserole.” She had such a warm smile,
nothing forced. It seemed so natural, coming from her vibrant, warm
personality. He could tell that Alice was comfortable with who she
was.

She wiped her hands on her red and white
flowered apron, which she wore over a peach shirt and blue jeans.
Her hair was held back by one of those headbands young girls
usually wore, but Ben thought it looked good. It was cute,
actually, and gave her a look of being fun to be around. Alice
busied herself cutting up some fresh fruit—apples, strawberries,
kiwi, pineapple—and he wondered how many she was planning on
feeding as she organized the plate in a presentation that would
rival that of any executive chef.

She didn’t look up from her chopping when
she took a breath and said, “I suppose Carrie told you what a
wickedly horrible person I am.”

That hadn’t been what he was expecting, but
women seemed to hold on to things men didn’t. He believed there
wasn’t a woman around who didn’t overthink things. Why he was
getting dragged into the middle of this family’s issues was a big
old question mark to him, but when Alice glanced up, he could tell
from her expression and the deep lines around her eyes that
whatever was going on, she had been working through it in her mind
for a while.

“I can see there’s some discord,” Ben
finally said.

“Discord!” She rolled her eyes, setting her
knife down and wiping her hands on her apron again.

Ben wondered, was she about to start in on
Carrie and all her faults? He was sure the list was long, and he
found his back stiffening as if sensing the words were on the tip
of her tongue.

“No, that girl hates me, Ben. I wish it were
different.” She turned to the sink and rinsed some fruit under the
tap. “I was friends with Pat, her mom, after they moved here.
Carrie was young, at an age when she needed her mother most. Jack
was gone a lot on business trips. He worked for a big oil firm from
Seattle, but he had decided to start winding down his career by
that point.”

Ben didn’t know what to say. He sensed a lot
of hurt and misunderstanding, a whole bunch of family stuff. He
wanted to gently remind everyone why he was actually here, but he
couldn’t say that. In fact, he said nothing, wondering why everyone
seemed to think he was their confidant.

“Oh, you’re probably shocked, too,” Alice
said.

“No, I’ve learned not to judge,” Ben
replied. “There’s always another side to the story. I don’t know
what happened, but I can only imagine the heartache everyone went
through. I never lost a parent, but my brother’s wife died of
cervical cancer. It messed him up pretty bad. He blamed himself for
a long time, saying he should have made her see a doctor earlier,
but they didn’t have insurance.” He turned away. “I know what grief
does to a person, twisting you up inside.”

“I loved Pat like a sister,” Alice said.
“When she was diagnosed the last time, her breast cancer had spread
everywhere and was in her pancreas. It was a death sentence. She
knew she didn’t have a lot of time, and it tore Jack up—and
Carrie…that girl had a hard time, knowing she was going to lose her
mama. I moved in because it got pretty bad at the end. Pat didn’t
want Carrie to see, to watch her, so I did what I could to distract
her and keep her away. Yes, I would lie to her and tell her that
her mom was having a good day just so Carrie would go to school.
With Jack…it was inevitable, what happened between us. He’s such a
good man. Pat knew, she saw us together even though there was
nothing between us when she was alive. Neither Jack nor I would
cross that line, but she was the one who first mentioned to me that
she didn’t want Jack and Carrie alone. Their relationship had
always been strained.”

Ben couldn’t imagine how tough it would have
been: the stress, the worry…watching someone you loved slip away.
He found himself nodding and wondering whether Carrie and her dad
had ever been close.

“The night before Pat passed away, she
called me and Jack in, sat us down to have a talk with us. She
asked Jack to marry me when she died. Of course, he was outraged,
and I was shocked. We had the kind of feelings good friends do for
each other—but also more, if we were honest. We’d become close,
sharing the care of a woman we both loved.

“When Jack calmed down enough, Pat said her
piece. She knew back then that Jack and I would be better together
than she and Jack had ever been. She knew he loved her, but she
told me she had always known they didn’t share a deep love, the
kind where you can’t stand the thought of being without the other
person for a day, an hour, or even a minute. She and Jack had never
had that. She had always been fine with the long hours he worked
and the separate lives they’d led.”

The way Alice was wringing her hands with
the cloth, Ben knew she was holding on to some guilt. How could any
person on their deathbed just hand their husband over to another
woman? It had been such an unselfish act. Any fool in the same room
as Alice and Jack could see how much they meant to each other.

“But you and Jack do share that love, and
Carrie’s mom knew it,” Ben said, taking in the shocked expression
on Alice’s face. She flattened her palm over her chest.

“Yes, she did. She knew before we did. I
don’t know, but I like to think it was her way of giving Jack and
me her blessing. After she died, Jack asked me to stay for Carrie,
but I knew he was really asking me to stay for him. He’s such a
proud man, stuck in right and wrong, and he fought his feelings…but
you can’t fight love, you know. Maybe we should have waited.” She
firmed her lips as if resigned to her fate, and Ben was struck by
the wave of emotions and confusion Alice appeared to be struggling
with. “Oh, well. What’s done is done. I somehow don’t think it
would have mattered if we’d waited. Carrie will never forgive me
and will always see me as the other woman even though that wasn’t
how it was.”

Ben wondered if Alice had ever tried to
explain to Carrie what she’d just shared, but he also realized that
because Carrie took everything so personally, she might not have
been ready to hear it. “You should sit down with Carrie and tell
her what you just shared with me,” he said.

Alice waved her hand and turned away to open
the oven and lift out a glass casserole dish. The bubbling
breakfast casserole had a spicy, fragrant aroma that made his mouth
water. “I tried, more than once. Her father did, too. She just
wouldn’t listen.”

Ben stepped closer and set his cup down.
“Alice, look at it from Carrie’s perspective. She needed her mother
more than anything at that age, and it sounds like Pat was the
center of her world. It’s probably no surprise that she couldn’t
hear you then. Sometimes, being that young and torn up with grief
leaves you unreasonable and inconsolable, so much so that no one
can break through that wall. But you should try again,” he said.
“There’s one thing about time: It does have a way of softening us.
You may be surprised. This time, she just might listen.”

For a moment, Carrie worried she was being
too forward as she stood on that first step in front of Ben’s
cabin. Her legs were shaky, and her heart started pounding when she
heard his voice inside. Maybe this was a bad idea. She considered
turning around and hurrying back the way she’d come before he even
realized she was there, but then she noticed him through the window
as he passed by, a phone pressed to his ear. Whomever he was
talking to, he was deep in conversation.

Ben was extraordinary. Just the way he moved
and carried himself was so confident that she couldn’t stay away
from him. He was invading her dreams, her sleep. He had been the
first thing in her mind that morning when she woke up, and the
thought of never seeing him again filled her with sadness. There
was an ache inside of her that she had lived with for so long, and
she just didn’t want it there any longer.

However, as she stood on that step, deciding
what to do, she also realized that Ben was here for only one thing:
to make sure this oil project went through easily.

He must have noticed her, so she lifted her
hand to wave, feeling like an idiot. She moved to the door, and it
opened. Her chest squeezed as she looked up into those intense
eyes, her hands sweating as she watched him watching her, a phone
pressed to his ear. He didn’t take his eyes off her as he said,
“Verna, I’ll call you back.”

He hung up the phone and slid it into his
pocket. “Good morning,” he said, holding the door open for her.

She fought the urge to run for a second
before stepping into the neat and tidy cabin. It smelled of fresh
pine—and of Ben. Her eyes went right to the rumpled bed, and she
wondered what he slept in. Was he a pajama man, or did he sleep in
nothing at all…? She blushed. Maybe he knew what she was thinking,
as he raised an eyebrow in a silent question. She lowered her gaze
and then looked away to the cluttered table by the window. His
laptop was open, papers scattered around it.