“I forgot how pretty it is up here,” Vanessa said as we got out of the car. She took a deep breath of the June air and shook her head. “You know, I don’t think I’ve been up here since the last time I was up here with you.”
“I haven’t either,” I admitted.
I draped an arm around her shoulders where we sat together on the hood of my truck. We watched the sky turn a lovely pink and orange.
“So how are things going with your gallery?” I finally got up the courage to ask. I’d been expecting her to tell me good news about it any day, but she still hadn’t said anything. I had to wonder if she still thought that I wouldn’t be interested in it, since she didn’t think I liked art. I hadn’t wanted to ask about it because I didn’t want her to think that I was pressuring her or something, but my curiosity got the better of me.
She sighed. “It’s going, anyway. I’ve made a little bit of progress.”
“Got the bank to give you a loan?” I asked. “Come on; I want the details.” She looked over at me, and I nudged her shoulder with mine and smiled encouragingly.
She smiled back and shrugged. “Well, I’ve found a group of artists who would be interested in forming a co-op, and that actually helps a lot toward funding the gallery. It means we don’t need to purchase the art or anything like that. And they’d be willing to chip in toward renting the space we need. But the problem is, we’re still about ten grand short of what we really need.
“I went back to the bank and told them about my progress. I figured they might be willing to loan me the rest of the money, now that it was a lot less than I originally asked for. They still insist that without some sort of collateral, this is too risky a venture for them.”
“Ouch,” I said, knowing that it must hurt her to hear her project called “risky” like that. “For what it’s worth, I still think it’s a great idea,” I said. “And, I’m sure that you’ll be able to turn a profit.”
Vanessa sighed again. “Thanks,” she said. “But unfortunately, I can’t help it turn a profit if I can’t even get the place going in the first place.” She paused. “The thing is, Dad said he’d do anything he can to help fund it, whether that means putting the ranch up as collateral with the bank, cashing in on some of his savings, or whatever else he can come up with. But I can’t let him do that. Like the bank said, it’s a risky investment. I don’t want to be too negative and go into it thinking that the place is going to flop. But at the same time, if the place really does flop, I would be devastated if I screwed up Dad’s ability to retire when he wants to or, even worse, if I lost us the ranch.”
“He knows the risks, though,” I reminded her, stroking my thumb across the back of her hand. “And, I’m sure his main goal in life, beyond a comfortable retirement or hanging on to the ranch, is to see you happy.”
“Even still,” she sighed. “I could never risk it.”
I hummed an acknowledgment, trying to think if there was any other way for her to come up with the money. “I wish I had some money so I could help you out,” I finally said.
“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” she protested. “Even if you did have the money.”
“You wouldn’t have to ask,” I said. “I’d be happy to help you out with it. I can tell how much the gallery means to you.” I was silent for a long moment. “The thing is, I love working on your Dad’s ranch, but it’s not exactly lucrative.”
She laughed. “Is he even paying you minimum wage?” she asked. “You’re not basically his slave, are you?”
“Nah, he pays me as well as he can,” I told her. “Maybe not as much as some of the other places around town, but I’d rather work for a little family ranch than some big corporate business of a place. I like the Lazy J. And, your Dad’s helped me through a lot.”
“I kn
ow,” Vanessa said softly. “But he still needs to pay you fairly.”
I snorted. “Don’t worry about that,” I said. “I actually have some savings in the bank. But not to the tune of ten thousand, I’m afraid.”
“Me, neither,” she said. She shrugged. “I’ll figure something out.”
“I don’t doubt that you will,” I said encouragingly. “And, I’ll keep wracking my brain for a solution.”
“Thanks,” she said. Then, she looked sharply toward the sky. “Uh oh.”
“What?” I asked, but a moment later, I felt the answer. I grimaced. “Looks like the rain’s caught up to us.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “Guess we should get headed back to town, huh?”
I hopped off the hood of the truck and held out a hand to help her down. We climbed back into the cab just as the real drops began to fall, big fat splashes that pattered heavily against the windshield. And this was only the beginning of it.
I reversed out of the parking lot and turned the car back toward town. Things only looked worse over in that direction. With the way that the sky had been darkening as the sun set, I hadn’t really noticed the severity of the weather coming our way, Now, the sky had an almost greenish look to it; that’s how threatening the storm was.
“You don’t think there will be tornados or anything like that, do you?” Vanessa asked nervously.
“Of course not,” I said reassuringly, reaching over to squeeze her leg and flashing her a quick smile, but as a bolt of lightning streaked from the sky all the way to the earth off to our left, I grimly reached over and turned on the radio, tuning it to the AM weather alerts channel.
All we could hear on the channel was static.