True Colors

“That’s perfect!”

“I know. A dock adds over one hundred thousand dollars’ worth of value to this place.” Winona frowned. “Is that what you meant?”

Vivi Ann glanced over at Noah, who was studying his dirty fingernails as if he might find gold in there. “Noah doesn’t want to be in 4-H anymore and he’s refusing to show at the fair.”

“Uh. Duh. He’s a boy. Maybe you want him to take ballet, too.”

“I’m glad to see you understand the problem. It wasn’t quite so clear to me.”

“Of course it wasn’t. You were beautiful and popular. If you wanted to play football, the guys would have said it was cute. Hell, if you threw up at homecoming, the boys would’ve lined up to hold your hair and still thought you were adorable. A kid like Noah has to be careful: no math or computer clubs, no chess, and certainly no 4-H. He’s trying to make friends, not lose them.”

“And you said he shouldn’t be sitting around all day.”

“Did I? I think I said he needed counseling, too. He seems . . . angrier than normal.”

“What he needs is a summer job. And not at the ranch. We don’t need something else to fight about.”

“That’s a great idea. It would use up his time and give him self-esteem and . . .” Winona stopped. “No,” she said to Vivi Ann, shaking her head. “You aren’t thinking—”

“It would be perfect. He could clean up the dock. Eight hours a day, five days a week. You can pay him by the foot. If you pay him by the hour I think you’ll go broke and your dock won’t ever get cleaned up.”

“I’m supposed to pay him, too?”

“Well, he’ll hardly do it for free. And you’re rich.”

“Look, Vivi Ann,” Winona said, lowering her voice. “I don’t know about this.”

“Tell her you’re scared of me, Aunt Winona,” Noah yelled. “Tell her you think I’m dangerous.”

“Shut up, Noah,” Vivi Ann snapped. “She certainly isn’t afraid of you.” She looked back at Winona. “I really need your help here. You’re so good at solving problems. Aurora thinks it’s a great idea.”

“You ran it past her?”

“Actually, it was her idea.”

Winona was screwed. Any idea that had been vetted and approved of by half the family was a done deal. “He has to pull his pants up—I don’t want to look at his underwear all day—and he washes his hair on the days he works for me.”

Noah grunted. She didn’t know if he’d agreed or not.

Winona walked over to him, hearing Vivi Ann following her. “How does eight bucks a foot sound?”

“Like slave’s wages.”

Vivi Ann cuffed the back of his head. “Try again.”

“It sounds fine,” he grumbled, shoving his hands deeper in his pockets.

Winona was actually afraid his jeans would fall down in a heap around his ankles.

This was a bad idea. The kid was just like his dad: trouble. But she had no way out. “Fine. He’s hired. But if he screws up once—once—you get him back, Vivi. I’m no babysitter.”

Vivi Ann looked directly at Noah. “If you fire him, he’s competing at the fair. Is that understood?”

Noah didn’t answer, but the look in his eyes was pure teenage rage.

He understood.

Chapter Twenty