“Mr. Ronson, I won’t stand idly by and let you accuse me of…”
His voice continues, but I don’t hear anything except a droning whine, because I’ve already dropped the phone. In two strides I’m at the front door, tearing it open and gathering Heather into my arms as she sobs uncontrollably. Any other concerns are forgotten in an instant as I bring her inside and lower her gently onto the couch, dropping to my knees in front of her.
“Mr. Ronson? Mr. Ronson are you there?” The voice on the phone drones on behind me, but my hands are on her cheeks, wiping away tears as she brings her breathing under control.
“Baby, don’t cry,” I tell her, and she shakes her head.
“How could he do it? How could he? I had no idea, Dodge, you have to believe me. I had nothing to do with any of this.”
“I know, angel, I know. Shh, it’s okay.”
“Davis told me everything. As soon as you were gone, he explained how he’s been planning this, how he knew what I thought about you and knew it would get you off your guard. The piece of… He’s the one that let the deer out of the paddock. He didn’t care if any of them got hurt, in fact he said it would help! Make you look worse.”
I breathe a deep sigh. “What’s his plan?”
She draws a breath, gulping back a sob and leaning into my fingers. “Apparently there’s oil all around here. Worth a fortune. That’s who that man is, something Jackson. He’s a surveyor with the oil company. Davis plans to get you off the land, then make a deal to drill for oil everywhere on the property. My grandparents’ will gives everything to the two of us. He’ll be a millionaire within a couple of years.”
Heather’s eyes meet mine, confusion evident in her face as I start to laugh.
“It’s not funny, Dodge. The surveyor has already been on the land. They’re sure there’s oil here. Davis is going to make you homeless. He’ll probably get rid of the reindeer too.” She frowns. “Why are you laughing?”
“What did your grandparents say about all this?” I ask, and her lips pull together, the tears starting to dry up.
“I didn’t talk to them. I ran straight over here as soon as Davis told me what was going on. I was sure you’d think I was in on it, but I wasn’t. Believe me please.”
I chuckle, pulling her into my arms and squeezing her tight. “Your brother is a fucking asshole. I’ve always managed to stay civil with your gran and gramps. I assumed they were in on this because they wanted the land, but I’m figuring now that’s not the case. I’m going to finish this call real quick, then I’ll tell you how this is going to go.”
She frowns, but shakes her head, and I grab the phone.
“Mr. Ronson! Will you please answer—”
“I suggest you speak to Mr. and Mrs. Vredenberg, the current owners of the lease agreement. They’ll confirm everything I’ve told you is true.”
“Mr. Ronson, the photographs I have were sent from Mr. Vredenberg’s email address, I hardly think he’s going to disagree with his own statement.”
“Wrong Mr. Vredenberg,” I tell him. “Trust me, you’re going to want to speak to Uli and Nancy, not the grandson.”
With those words, I end the call, but before I can explain everything to Heather there’s an insistent banging at my door.
“Dodge, open up. You in there?” Old Mr. Vredenberg’s voice is muffled by the door, but he sounds desperate. “Can I come in? Seems we have some figurin’ out to do.” His hint of a German accent more pronounced than usual.
“What’s going on?” Heather asks. “Why is my gramps here?”
“I think it’s more than just him,” I tell her as I step out into the little hall and pull open the door.
“Dodge, thank Jesus. You heard what my idiot of a grandson has been up to?”
I glance behind Uli to see Davis, red faced and glowering, but unable to meet my eyes. The man from the oil company is nowhere to be seen.
“Come on in, I’ve got Heather here. She’s going to want an explanation.”
“Apologies first.” Uli turns to Davis and snaps his fingers. “Well, go on then.”
“Gramps, please…”
“Don’t gramps, please me, Davis. You say sorry to Mr. Ronson or I’ll march straight down to my attorney’s office and have my will changed today. You want that?”
Mr. Ronson.
That’s got to sting. Davis being brought round here like some unruly teenager having to apologize to his neighbor for breaking his window with a stray baseball. I look at Davis as he finally lifts his head, a snarl twisting his lips, but there’s no doubt what’s about to happen. He’s not about to let himself be cut out of the will for this.