Lyza's Story: Book One of The Lane Trilogy. Vicki Inc. Andree

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СКАЧАТЬ my head before going through them? Will that work for you?”

      He shrugged and filled his cup. “Okay—just making conversation.”

      Lyza added extra sugar to her cup before filling it. “I’m not up for chatting. Coffee I need; conversation, not so much.”

      Bill paused as he exited the doorway. “You had a good day today, Lyza. There’s no reason to shoot yourself in the foot.”

      Lyza frowned. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that, Bill. I don’t care if you were here from the beginning; you don’t talk that way to me.”

      Bill stood just outside the door, held his cup, and stirred. “Exactly. I was here from day one. I worked beside your mother and father from the first day this business started, and I can tell you this: There’s no room for ego. We’re all working for the same goal here.”

      She stepped past him into the hall and turned to go to her office, spilling a few drops from her cup. “I am, for sure; sometimes I wonder about you.”

      ***

      Chuck O’Malley was on a mission. The midday sun glared down on the hood of the rented four-by-four. He ran his hand through his salt and pepper gray strands and replaced his weathered straw hat as he bounced along the rutted country road of the Australian bush. Neither the heat nor the three hundred miles of bad or no road deterred him.

      If I hadn’t found a place to rent a four-by-four this morning, I never would have made it before dark. George isn’t the only bush pilot around. Who could have known I would find a pilot from Moomba? Talk about remote. The guy knew right where to land for someone to rent a vehicle. I needed to come alone this time. It’s just over that rise, and then I can get a full view of the property.

      He took a swig from his water bottle and glanced back at the containers of extra fuel in the back. He had also packed extra rations and water. I’ve got a decision to make.

      This is going to take every bit of my 401K, inheritance, and whatever else I can come up with, but if my hunch is right, it’ll be worth it. The Land Rover chugged over the short summit and came to a full stop. O’Malley surveyed the shallow valley below with his field glasses. He scrutinized the abandoned ranch. Thick silence surrounded him. A hay barn leaned to one side. A few trees nearly blocked the view of familiar buildings. He felt like a trespasser, infringing on someone else’s property. The description fit.

      GPS coordinates confirmed he was in the right place. The long view across to the horizon was breathtaking, and the dried-up grazing property accompanying those old buildings afforded a view of the inland of the continent to die for. Suddenly his mission became urgent. Has someone else already seen this place and decided that they want it? That’s just crazy.

      This could be my chance to get out before I die in my cubicle at IBM systems in Brisbane. This property might be my last chance.

      Chuck O’Malley wouldn’t admit that he owned as much greed as the next man, and yes, he did love the property with the stupendous view. Spending time there the few nights with George were the best times he remembered having since leaving the U.S. The property had been a cattle station. Chuck had no interest in ranching, much too labor-intensive. His true interests lay below the surface.

      His mind raced. I might be able to get enough money to buy the place as-is. Then they could drill. But then there’s the nagging question: What if I buy the land, and they drill and find no oil? What then? Then I’ll be stuck with a worthless wasteland far from civilization.

      He continued arguing with himself. I mean, there’s nothing else to do with this place. It failed as a cattle station because of the lack of water. I will have sunk every dime into an insignificant blot on a map of the Australian bush. I will have lost everything I’ve worked a lifetime to save.

      What if I drilled first? The nearest neighbor is more than a day’s drive. Who would know? I wonder if George would go along with it. Do I dare bring up the idea of drilling to find out if there is oil? No way. I know George. He would never go along with a plan like that. George is way too honest and law-abiding to get into something like that. However…

      An idea flashed out of nowhere, the answer emblazoned in his mind: What if George thought I owned the place? He’s content with his life as it is, and he really has no stake in this. Besides, Chuck rationalized, the less he knows, the better it will be for him. I don’t like the idea of lying to him, but it’s in his own best interest that I do. If I tell him I bought the place, he’ll help me get the drilling done. That way I’ll get what I want, and he won’t feel like he’s doing anything wrong.

      Bright golden rays crossed the sky from a flaming horizon as the sun began to set. Feeling peaceful and at home with familiar surroundings, Chuck built a fire at the place where he and George had last camped. He spread out a tarp and laid his sleeping bag on it. Alone, lying on the ground, looking at a crisp, clear Milky Way, Chuck felt a sense of peace and resolve. I can do this. I can drill for oil, and George will go along with me. He’s the only one I trust to do this with. All I have to do is lie.

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