I wasn’t sure pancakes constituted hearty, but I didn’t say that.
“Will you watch me ride, Mama?”
“Of course.”
“You can ride too,” Wyatt said. “I’ve got the perfect old nag just for you.”
“Oh, Wyatt,” Peggy said.
I quirked a brow. “Are you calling me an old nag?”
He grinned at me, looking happier than I thought I’d ever seen him before. “You’re my young beautiful wife.” He reached over and took my hand.
“What am I, Wyatt?” Alyssa asked.
“You’re my gal.” He took her hand too. The moment should have been perfect. Wyatt holding his family’s hands. But of course, it was bittersweet because he was still in the dark about Alyssa. I took in the moment, wanting to savor it. There was a chance that when I told him, his feelings for me would change, so this moment of a family having breakfast could be the only one we had.
27
Wyatt
When I was in the military, a few guys in my unit often said they’d never want to have a regular life; working in the same place, coming home to the same family, day after day. They felt having a wife, house and regular job would become boring. Me? This life I had now with Sinclair and Alyssa, it felt like fucking heaven, especially the part about coming home to a family.
After a week, we’d settled into a routine. Mom and I were up early as usual, taking care of farm duties. We left feeding the chickens to Alyssa now, who would get up just before Sinclair so she could get dressed and get her chore done. Sinclair would go to work, dropping Alyssa off at her grandmother’s house for the day. My mother offered to watch her, but she was an integral part in keeping the ranch going, so we decided it was better for Sinclair’s mom to watch her. Besides, they wanted to continue to be in her life as well.
And so it was, I was living the dream I’d planned with Sinclair all those years ago. The only hiccups were that I wasn’t sure Sinclair saw a future with me, and, in fact, there were times when I felt like she was keep
ing something from me. And of course, there was Stark to contend with.
But I was a patient man. I could wait for Sinclair to realise my love for her was real. My desire to be a father to Alyssa was genuine. I could stay positive that our dream we created ten years ago could be real.
It was midweek and I’d finished dealing with the cattle and paperwork and thought I’d take care of some home improvement issues before Sinclair and Alyssa got home. I wanted them to come home to a pretty picture of a house, so I decided it was time to clean up the front porch, fixing the loose boards, and give it a paint job. Maybe Alyssa and I could build planter boxes to hang on the rail and fill them with pretty bright flowers.
I’d just finished hammering a nail into one of the floorboards, when I heard a car pull up the driveway. Looking up from my work, an expensive sports car parked in front of the house. A man in a dark expensive suit, with a two-hundred-dollar haircut to his blond hair stepped out of the car. I didn’t need to be told his name to know who this was. It appeared I’d earned the honor of a visit from Simon Stark himself.
“Mr. Jones, I’m Simon Stark.” He smiled, showing off perfect white teeth. I wondered if there was anything on this man that wasn’t fake.
I stood and leaned against the post at the top of the porch steps, crossing my arms over my chest.
He gave me a smarmy smile. “I wonder if I might have a moment of your time.”
I nodded, but didn’t invite him in. I wasn’t going to sully my home with the likes of him. I was relieved that Sinclair and Alyssa were gone, and my mother was upstairs resting.
“What do you want?”
“Well, I’m thinking there’s a misunderstanding or perhaps my men haven’t been very good at conveying my message.” He smiled affably but there was a hint of menace behind it.
“They seemed clear to me. They threatened my family, including my child, if I didn’t sell.” I rolled my shoulders as the anger of his henchmen’s threats bloomed inside me again.
“Well, see, they shouldn’t have done that. I’m just trying to make you a fair offer for the property.”
“Fair or not, it’s not for sale.” I watched him carefully. He was a man who was good at facades. At making people believe he was calm, cool and collected, but I saw the quick flash of irritation in his eyes at my words.
“The governor has endorsed this project. It will create many jobs for your neighbors who need them. Not everyone is cut out for farming. The people of Salvation will have jobs and it will mean more money for the county. Surely you support your community?” He was clearly going for some sort of empathy I might have for my neighbors. I did have empathy. I just didn’t think I should have to forfeit my land so they could have a job. Surely there was another industry that could be brought in that wouldn’t require so many farmers to give up their way of life? Weirder still was that Stark could understand empathy. I was sure he didn’t.
“The governor doesn’t own this land, I do.”
Again, there was a quick, almost imperceptible clench of his jaw. “I understand your family has been ranching on this property for a long time. I can see how important that would be to you. Family history is important. But look around you, Mr. Jones. The house is tired and showing signs of wear. Family farming is dying. In five, maybe ten years, it will be extinct and where will you be? You can take this offer and start a new life with your new wife.”