Convincing the Rancher. Claire McEwen

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СКАЧАТЬ than how I handled things yesterday. I made it personal. I can’t make that mistake again.”

      “I guess we can’t help it being kind of personal,” Jack said. “But if the council likes our idea, I think someone should tell Tess about the plan. It’s best to be up front.”

      “That someone being me, I guess,” Slaid said. “The dirty work goes along with being the mayor. But I doubt that’ll be an enjoyable conversation.”

      Jack jabbed his shovel under the post again, managing to tip it partway over. Slaid reached for it and wrestled the old wood out of the ground. “You know, Samantha mentioned that you and Tess...”

      “Yep.” No way was Slaid talking about sex, even with a guy as easygoing as Jack. He grabbed his pickax and walked over to the next post, putting his full attention on loosening the dirt around it. “I’d appreciate if you and Samantha don’t pass that along to anyone else. It’s not a night I’m proud of.”

      “Hell, Slaid, we’ve all done things we’re not proud of.”

      “But you’re not the mayor.”

      “Or the son and grandson of previous mayors,” Jack added. He dug his shovel into the dusty soil. “I get that you’ve got a heavy legacy to carry around, but that doesn’t mean you have to be perfect every moment of your life. That’s impossible.”

      Slaid’s laugh came out more like a humorless bark. “I’ve got a divorce to prove that I’m not perfect every moment.”

      Jack grinned. “I’ve got one, too, so I guess that means we both have our flaws.”

      They worked in silence for a few minutes, deepening the hole around the post. Slaid didn’t want to ask, but something inside him wouldn’t let the opportunity slide. “So since the cat’s out of the bag, what do you know about Tess?”

      Jack scooped up a couple more shovelfuls before he answered, “I can understand why you had that night a couple years ago, but I hope for your sake you’re not interested in dating her.”

      “I honestly don’t know what I’m interested in.” But the truth was, he hadn’t stopped thinking about her since she’d walked into his office.

      Jack sighed. “Well, she’s pretty, obviously, and funny and smart and a great friend to my wife—loyal as anything. But you’d be half-crazy to get involved with her. She’s got a wall a mile thick between her and the world. Samantha’s known her since college and says she barely knows anything about her.”

      Slaid paused. “Really? I just figured it was me she was skittish around.”

      “Next time you’re with her, watch how she does it. The minute the conversation gets personal about her, she’ll ask about you. Or make a joke. Or find a new topic. Or leave. Anything but talk about herself.”

      There was a clank as Jack’s shovel hit what must be a pretty big rock. Slaid dropped the ax and picked up his shovel, driving it into the hard soil with his boot, trying to get under it. “Maybe she just hasn’t met the right guy.” He got the shovel under the rock and started prying. The wooden handle snapped like a twig, sending him staggering backward, broken stub in hand.

      Jack just stood there, his shoulders shaking in laughter. “Oh, man, if that’s not an omen for your future with Tess, I don’t know what is. I give you my condolences.”

      Slaid picked up the broken pieces and threw them in the truck. He grabbed another shovel out of the back. “You never know. Why don’t you hold off on those condolences for a few more weeks?”

      Jack had the pickax now, crouching down to loosen the soil under the rock. When he looked at Slaid, he was still grinning. “Will do. And good luck. You’ll surely need it if you’re going to try to get anywhere with Tess Cole.”

      * * *

      USUALLY SLAID WAS restless during meetings. He was a big, active guy and sitting around talking didn’t suit him that well. But this evening he was so tired after setting posts with Jack all day that it actually felt good to be sedentary. At least, it felt good while the city council members brainstormed fund-raising ideas for new holiday decorations. This part was easy. It was the windmill discussion, next on the agenda, that could be tricky. Looking around at the weathered faces of the older ranchers and respected Benson citizens who made up the council, Slaid realized he had no idea what they’d think of Jack’s ideas. Most of these folks were fairly traditional. But regardless of how they felt about any kind of alternative energy, the future of power had showed up uninvited at their doorstep. They would have to deal with it.

      Gus Jackson, owner of the largest market in town, was chairing the meeting. “Next on the agenda is windmills,” he said. “Slaid, you want to talk about this?”

      Slaid cleared his throat and jumped in. “Some of you may have heard that there’s a company looking to put a wind farm on the grazing land I lease east of town.”

      About half the folks on his council nodded, while the other half looked stunned. Apparently the Benson gossip mill hadn’t had quite enough time to work its magic. “Now, I don’t know how you all feel about that, but I think we’ll have to come together and take a stand on it, one way or the other.”

      “I don’t want to look at them all day, that’s for sure,” Sue Emory said, tapping her pencil anxiously. She ran Jeep tours in the summer and snowshoe hikes in winter. “And the tourists won’t like it much, either.”

      “I don’t get it. A private company can just come out here and do that? How?” Gus asked.

      “They can get a lease from the Bureau of Land Management, just like we do for grazing,” Jack answered. And it’s easy for them to do it, because the federal government is all about developing domestic sources of energy right now,”

      “But here? It’s going to mess with this whole area,” Bob Allen said worriedly. “It’ll change everything.”

      “Well, I’m new at this,” Slaid told him. “But it seems to me that if the feds are allowing fracking all over BLM land, a wind-energy project must be a no-brainer for them. It’s a lot less invasive and damaging.”

      Jed Watkins leaned forward. “I just don’t get it. We’re a small town. We don’t need that much energy. Why us?”

      “We’ve got the wind,” Slaid answered. “And it’s a straight shot down Highway 395 to Southern California.”

      “We’re pretty sure they’ll just sell the extra power to LA,” Jack explained. “Or run it across the desert to Las Vegas or some other big city.”

      The quaver in Gus’s voice betrayed his distress, “What do we do? No way can we let this happen.”

      “Well, we’ve got to run a campaign.” Jack glanced around the table. “Try to get some outside support for our cause. Involve the media and environmental groups.”

      “Jack thinks we’ll get a lot of public sympathy on this,” Slaid added. “Especially if we remind people of the struggles folks in this area have endured since LA got its hands on our water.”

      “Sounds like a good idea overall,” Sue said.

      “Well, СКАЧАТЬ