“But?” I interject.
Warner sighs. “But there’s a lot of politics in town and I don’t want Nolan part of that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look, your sister has wanted to tell you, but I’ve told her to keep you out of it.”
“Out of what, Warner?”
“You know I’m not a sports guy and I’ve made it clear that I want Nolan working on the ranch, but I’m not a piece of crap father either. Elizabeth signed Nolan up for try-outs twice. We never got a call telling us when to go along. Next thing we know, teams are set and he’s not on any of them.”
I have a very sick feeling in my stomach as he tells me this. First, David hints that the Little League program isn’t on the up and up and begs me to coach, then last night, Bellamy glosses over the drama that’s going on, and now my brother-in-law tells me this. Thing is, I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t worry about how the program is run, whether it’s fair or not. But I do, and the more and more I think about it, the more pissed off I become at Brett Larsen.
“What the hell is going on in this town?”
“Corruption,” he states so matter-of-factly that I know he’s not lying. “New mayor. He’s young, wants to see corporations coming in to bring in jobs. He runs some scam, although no one can prove it yet. Buys up property for himself and then within a year or two, the buildings are destroyed by fire. He collects the insurance money and sells the lot for cheap and always to some city corporation. By the end of the year, we’ll have a new pharmacy, restaurant and gas station — all national chains — right along Main Street.”
“That’s not what Richfield stands for.”
“Nope, it’s not, but the Richfield you remember doesn’t exist. Hell, the people we went to school with aren’t even friends with us anymore because we don’t play their silly little games. Maybe we should because it messes with Nolan . . . the kids are bullies and their parents don’t care because they’re bullies themselves.”
“Nolan not getting a call for try-outs doesn’t make sense.”
“Sure, it does,” he says. “You screwed Annie Miller and her husband has never forgiven you.”
“They weren’t together.” I remind him.
“To him, I don’t think that matters.” He sighs heavily. If Brett Larsen is still holding a grudge, he needs to take it up with me, not my family. It’s that simple.
We ride for a bit and I tell him about the land that’s going up for sale. It abut
s my father’s property, giving him the ability to expand, but Warner isn’t so sure. I’m certain it’s a money issue, which means I’ll write a check. If my father never does anything with the land, so be it, but I’d rather him own it then have some superstore go in and contaminate the land.
Warner and I don’t say much on the way back. He talks some more about my sister and how much he loves her, but that she drives him crazy sometimes. I agree with him. She’s a handful. But, when we get back, she’s there waiting for him, just as she’s always been. I leave the love birds and return Cadbury back to the ranch hand to take care of for me. I need to shower and head into town. There’s a little political game being played, and I want to get to the bottom of it. Besides, it’s a good way to avoid any questions from my sister about Bellamy.
Sixteen
Bellamy
“Whoa, hot date later?” Karter greets me at the door with a cup of coffee and what I’m taking as a compliment.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She’s hot on my heels, following me to my desk. I drop my bags and take a seat in my chair. “You’re staring.”
“You did your hair.”
I roll my eyes. “I do my hair every morning.”
She eyes me suspiciously and grins. “Could this have anything to do with you having dinner with a very eligible bachelor last night?” The second she asks this, I start to blush and turn away, pretending to be interested in something on my desk, but I know she’s already caught on. I do have a date . . . sort of. If you call said bachelor coming over later with steaks to grill a date. Sadly, I’m so behind on today’s trends, I don’t know what to call it other than dinner . . . at my place . . . to which he invited himself. I couldn’t have said no if I tried. He’s mesmerizing, intriguing, and he took an interest in my son before he even knew me.
“How’d you hear about last night?” I ask her.
“You’re the talk of the town. I swear, that’s all I’ve heard about since I stood in line for coffee this morning.”
“Okay, but what exactly did you hear?” The only person I told was my mother. Unless it was Annie, although I don’t see her being a blabber mouth.
“That you and Hawk, the Hottie, we’re having an intimate dinner together.”
“At the Depot . . .” I point out. There isn’t a single romantic vibe to a family pizza parlor. “Besides, Chase and Hawk’s nephew were there. Not sure how intimate dinner can be over pizza and salad with two kids around.”