Reclaimed (14 page)

“Do they always have this much energy after school?” Suzanna nodded toward Keegan, who chased his sisters over and through the monkey bars and down the slide across the playground.

“Not always.” Andrea laughed. “But, come to think of it, usually. Thank goodness for nice weather.”

“Will it hold for much longer, do you think?”

“Farmers sure hope so. Corn prices are high, and harvest looks good.”

“Do you and Tom farm?” Nearing a month of friendship, Suzanna still wasn’t sure what they did for a living.

“Tom’s grandpa had some land in Kansas. Tom and his brother sharecrop it now.” Andrea slid her hands in her sweatshirt pockets. “He’ll be heading south in a few weeks for harvest. His brother’s family lives down there, so he keeps Tom updated.”

“But you don’t farm up here?”

“Not really. We have about ten acres in alfalfa, and we run cattle on the rest, but it’s a small herd.” Andrea’s smile embodied contentment. “Tom works with the Department of Natural Resources. That’s how he knew your dad.”

Suzanna nodded. A breeze stirred the trees by the creek, setting the golden-yellow globes in motion. The grass swept down and bounced back, stirring the aroma of the mowed field beyond the park boundary. Suzanna inhaled, savoring the clean, sweet smell.

Andrea laughed. “Paul loves that too.”

Suzanna’s head whipped to Andrea.

“The smell of a hay field. Paul loves it.” Andrea held her eyes and then moved her attention to the field. “He smiles the way you just did when he catches a whiff of freshly mowed grass.”

Suzanna blushed, but she wasn’t sure why. She and Paul had been tossed together quite a bit. She didn’t mind, except it wasn’t fair to Paul. Either he thought he needed to babysit his inept neighbor, or he saw opportunity. Her gut twisted. He deserved better than her thin, worn-out heart. Maybe she needed to set some things clear.

But perhaps Paul, just like Andrea and their mother, was simply offering sincere friendship. Longing ached in her chest. Dear heavens—friends. Like a soft rain to her hard and cracked spirit.

“He’s the reason we still live here.” Andrea’s eyes rested on the hayfield, distant and reminiscent.

Suzanna wondered where Andrea’s memory had taken her. “Paul?”

Andrea nodded. “Did he tell you our grandparents left him their place?” She redirected her attention to Suzanna.

Shaking her head, Suzanna recalled the pieces Paul had told her. He’d ended his tale before his grandparents passed.

Andrea’s smile was soft, and Suzanna saw the sincere fondness she had for her brother.

“He worked for Grandpa almost ten years. He didn’t want to at first—sort of a last-resort situation, but he ended up loving it. Grandpa sold him some heifers at the end of his first year with them. Paul used them as a start, renting some of Grandpa’s pasture. Did pretty well.”

Andrea’s grin grew. “Grandpa was pleased. Said if Paul wanted to, he’d help him with the cost of college at the ag school. Paul took the deal. He stayed on the whole time, working for Grandpa and building his own stock. When Grandpa died, he left instructions for Paul to take care of Grandma, which he did—quite well. She followed Grandpa only a year later, though, and Paul found out they’d left it all to him.”

Andrea’s eyes held Suzanna’s. “They owned over three thousand acres—some of the best grazing land in the area. Grandpa wrote that Paul had proven his worth, and he was proud to leave a heritage to a boy who had become such a fine young man.” Her eyes misted, and she swallowed hard. “I can’t tell you what that meant to us—to our family.”

Suzanna nodded, her eyes growing moist. “He told me he’d been quite a rebel.”

Andrea laughed. “A rebel indeed. You want to know the thing that gets me though?”

Suzanna nodded.

“It was all his.” Andrea sniffed and brushed a tear off her cheek. “The land, the cattle—everything was all his. Grandpa left it all to Paul, but he sold all of Grandpa’s cattle and split the profit between Mom and Dad and Tom and me. Said he was sure Grandpa would want it that way. Then he gave us each one hundred acres of land. Told us to do with it as we wanted.”

She took Suzanna by the arm. “People don’t just do that, Suz. Tom and I couldn’t have afforded what we have otherwise. We would have moved to Kansas, and I wouldn’t have been able to help take care of Mom and Dad like I am now. Mom can afford to have full-time help for Dad. I can’t begin to tell you what a relief that is for her. You may look at what Paul has now and think that was the least he could do, but it was, in fact, very generous. And it came from a heart of love.”

Suzanna bit her lip. Paul had already proven himself to be far above the character of most men, but Andrea’s testimony was astounding. Where did love like that come from?

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“How goes it, Rodney?” Paul slid the sack of feed to the aisle floor and reached out his hand.

Rodney gripped it, though he looked to the ground. “Oh, I’m all right.”

Paul stepped back and rolled his shoulders straight. Rodney was usually the talkative sort. Made him a good auctioneer. But as the moments ticked by, Rodney let silence hang between them. Something was wrong.

“Do you have that sale bill ready to post?” If anything could get him talking, it would be the sale barn. Rodney loved his work.

“Yeah, about that.” Rodney pushed his arthritic fingers through his thin gray hair, refusing to make eye contact. “I’m afraid I have to cancel.”

“The sale?” Something was definitely wrong.

“Yes.” He shifted his weight from left to right. “Not just yours, all of them.”

“Why?”

“I’ve run into a situation.” The elderly gentleman swallowed, and his handlebar mustache twitched. “I’m gonna have to sell the business.”

A situation? The timing was too parallel to be a happenstance.

Paul shoved his hands into his denim pockets. “I know I shouldn’t pry, Rodney, but you mind telling me what sort of trouble you’re in?”

Rodney scratched his neck. “I did something foolish a few years back. You know when I added that second pole barn, thinking the goat market was going to explode?”

Paul knew. The little building came in handy. Rodney often let the kids run mutton-busting contests there before the sales. And more than once, he’d seen youngsters practicing poles and barrels with their horses while their parents attended an auction.

“Yeah.” Paul waited for the rest.

“I took out a second loan to do it. It’s been called in—half due at the end of the month.”

“Called in? Is that legal?”

Rodney grimaced, his eyes cast to the floor.

Paul shifted, moving closer. “Rodney, I don’t think a bank can do that these days without a reason. Did you default on your payments?”

“No.” His shoulders crumpled. “I didn’t go through a bank. It was a personal loan from an individual.”

Guess who? Paul’s head snapped straight, and he pulled in a long breath. “How much do you owe Stanton?”

Rodney’s eyes shot up. “How’d you know?”

“I know Chuck, and I know this town. How much do you need by the end of the month?”

“I can’t take another personal loan to cover the last one that was a mistake.” Rodney’s gaze lowered again. “I’ve ruined myself. It’s just the way it is.”

Paul crossed his arms. “If you sell for me next Saturday, you can have it. All of it.”

“All of what?”

“Every last dime that comes from those cattle.” Paul rocked back on his heels. “Everything we talked about on the sale bill.”

Rodney stepped back, his eyes widening. “I told you, I can’t pay you back.”

“This isn’t a loan.”

Confusion tugged on his expression, and Rodney stood dumbfounded. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I’m not going to let Chuck Stanton jerk the people in this town around to satisfy his greed.”

Rodney’s expression didn’t clear.

“He’s after me, Rodney.” Paul pressed on. “It has nothing to do with you. Chuck’s aim is set on me.”

“Why?”

“Because I won’t help him bully Suzanna Wilton out of town so he can buy her land.”

Rodney’s mouth dropped. “But he says that woman is planning to dam up the creek. Said she came into the bank looking for a loan on the project.”

What? Paul felt a scowl gather his forehead, and his mouth pulled down.

“Look, Rodney. I’ve gotten to know Suzanna over the past few weeks, and I can tell you she wouldn’t even be able to think up that kind of scheme, let alone carry it through. She’s just living on the land her dad gave her and trying to find a place in our community.”

“Are you sure?” Rodney’s forehead wrinkled. “Why would Chuck lie about something like that?”

Paul looked across the store, not seeing anything but red. “I don’t know.” He moved his attention back to Rodney. “But I do know this. He’s putting you out of business to get to me. Do you really think anything is beneath him?”

Rodney shifted like he was uncomfortable. Pulling in a long breath, he shoved his hands into his leather vest pockets. “No, I ’spose not.”

Paul held his gaze with a sternness he hadn’t felt in years. “Do we have a deal?”

Rubbing his neck, Rodney looked around. “What about you? Don’t you need the money?”

“You sell what we talked about in a week.” Paul rocked back again, hooking his thumbs in his pockets. “I’ll go through my herd again, and we’ll put together another sale bill for late November. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Rodney stood, clearly wrestling with the proposal. Two women came down the aisle, each carrying a sack of dog food, and Paul and Rodney stepped to the edge of the walkway. Rodney pulled at his whiskers and then slid his hand toward Paul.

“Okay, Rustin. We have a deal.”

Paul’s feet shuffled against the concrete as he waited for Suz to answer. He’d made a bad habit of knocking on her door too early.

She pulled the door open as he chided himself, her hair wet and her face makeup free. Yep, too early. Except this image of the little pickle tickled his insides.

He pushed away the pleasure. He had no business finding his friend perfectly adorable in her morning freshness.

“Hey, Paul.”

Her smile warmed the spot he’d just told to behave.

“Looking for some coffee?”

His grin cracked. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but coffee was a start. “Been a whole week since I’ve had Suzie’s good stuff. It’s addictive.”

The coffee. He meant the coffee. His brain needed to start functioning like the thirty-seven-year-old grown-up he was instead of some giddy teenager.

She pushed the screen door open, and he stepped through, inhaling the sweet scent of whatever she used in her hair.

Behave
. He shoved a hand into a pocket and tightened the grip he had on the notebook he’d brought.

“I was just about to set on a fresh pot.” Suzanna led the way into her kitchen. “I was kind of wondering when you’d stop by again.”

Pleasure zinged again. Paul couldn’t stop his smile. “I’ve made quite a nuisance of myself, haven’t I?”

“Not at all.” She glanced to the counter top. “It’s nice to have a friend.”

There was something raw in her confession. Paul swallowed, holding his gaze steady on her.

She turned away to fill her coffee pot at the sink, her fingers touching something underneath the collar of her shirt.

“I was looking through your dad’s binder.” Paul moved toward the table. “I think he was looking for a breed he could finish on grass.”

She pivoted back to him, her expression wrinkled. “What does that mean? Don’t all cows eat grass?”

He dropped into a chair, pulling his hat off and resting it on his knee. “At some point in the process, yes, most cattle are set out to pasture, but there are different stages for beef cattle and different operations that specialize in those stages.”

Suzanna dropped onto the chair opposite his side of the table and propped her chin in her hand. Her inquisitive eyes invited him to continue.

“So, you start with a calf.” Paul leaned on his elbows. “It stays with its mama for six to nine months—we call them pairs. Pairs usually are put to pasture during the summer months and are most often separated in the fall.”

Suzanna nodded.

“After the cows are sorted, the steers are sent to a feedlot. A feed yard will finish the cattle until they’re ready to go to slaughter. Usually, they’re finished on corn. It’s a high calorie grain that will add fat quickly, and the beef will be tender.”

Her forehead wrinkled. “But Dad wanted to finish cattle on grass?”

“That’s what it looks like.” Paul pulled out the binder he’d brought with him. “Look.” He opened it and pointed to the first pamphlet. “Right here. These breeds are suited for grass finishing. They won’t take as long as some of the others, and the meat will retain the tender quality, if they are finished properly.”

Suzanna studied the information Paul had pointed out, but her expression remained quizzical. “Why would he do that?”

Paul shrugged. “Hard telling. There’s a growing market for it in some areas. Supposed to be healthier—higher in omega-3 and naturally leaner. Sellers will claim it’s a greener way to raise beef cattle. Maybe it is, I don’t know.

“Anyway, if your dad had any connection with a health-conscious market, he may have seen an opportunity. He obviously knew how to grow grass, which is really what you’re doing when it comes to raising grass-finished beef, so maybe it would have been a good fit for him.”

Suzanna nodded, her eyes thoughtful. Paul watched while she chewed her bottom lip.

“So.” He sat back. “Are you up for it?”

Her brows dipped. “Up for what?”

“Suzanna Wilton: cowgirl.” He grinned. “Wouldn’t that just put a bur under Chuck Stanton’s preppy jeans?”

She laughed. “Maybe. Right up until I fail miserably.”

Paul leaned forward against the table, shaking his head. “Pickle, I done told you. If you’re strong enough to stand up to a bunch of bullheaded cowboys, you’ll do just fine.”

Her smile faded as she held his eyes. Something in her stare tugged at him. It felt like his opinion mattered. A lot.

“I’ll help you, Suz.” His voice dropped softly. “If it’s what you want to do, I’ll help you.”

Her gaze fell. “I don’t know.”

She left the table, moving to pour the coffee. Somehow he’d upset her. He couldn’t understand. Paul left his seat too.

“Suzanna…” He followed her to the counter and rested a hand on her shoulder. “What did I say?”

“Nothing.” Her mouth tipped into a smile that contradicted her sullen eyes. “I just don’t know what I want.”

Paul studied her while his thumb brushed over her arm. It didn’t seem like the truth—not all of it. But he’d no idea what else could have pulled the laugh out from under her.

“You don’t have to raise cattle, Suz. You don’t have to do anything. I just know that you can, if that’s what you want, and I’m happy to help you, no matter what you decide. I’m glad to be your friend.”

She looked back to him, and those beautiful, sad blue eyes pleaded in the silence. She needed a friend. She needed him to be it.

Paul tugged her into half an embrace, and she tilted her head into his shoulder. His heart whispered a promise.

Come what may, I’ll be your friend.