Chapter 4
John Windom in Aaron MacDonald's body sat immobile and silent on a toilet. He'd learned that the aliens ignored him if he didn't speak. He hadn't said a word for days. He didn't know how many days. He didn't know if the planet where they'd taken him had more or less than twenty-four hour days. Unless he was directed to move, he didn't. His resolve caused accidents. He'd dirtied his pants twice before the aliens started to instruct him to urinate and empty his bowels.
"Wipe your dirty ass," the alien said.
He wiped.
"Stand up, pull up your pants, and flush the toilet ... Good, now wash your hands ... Dry them with a paper towel ... No, don't drop the towel on the floor. Pick it up and put it in the wastepaper can ... Good. Walk out to the big room and sit down.
He walked; he sat.
That wasn't so bad. If he obeyed, they didn't hurt him, didn't push needles into him.
Fuckers! If I had my body instead of the scrawny body where they put my mind, they couldn't hold me down; they couldn't do anything to me. If they touched me, I'd rip their heads off and piss down their necks.
He spent the next hour fantasizing mayhem.
"Stand up, Aaron. It's time to eat," an alien said.
John Windom wished they wouldn't call him Aaron, but he didn't express his wish. If he did, they'd hold him down and stick needles into him. He stood up and followed the alien into a dining hall, where he sat down and ate the crappy meal they'd put in front of him. He ignored the others. The other experiments like him. Experiments gone bad.
Fuckin' aliens couldn't cook, either.
Calm your body, Danielle Kurt told herself. John Windom is a bully and isn't trustworthy. He's not the man for you.
She'd heard the gossip, heard that his wife had run off with another man, heard that the poor woman had been murdered, which meant that John Windom was no longer a married man, which made him fair game, but so what? He'd be grieving. Hmm, maybe not, not if he truly has amnesia. If he has no memories of the woman, why would he grieve? Still, that he is suddenly single doesn't alter his essential character. Remember, you can't change the character of another person, she admonished herself. You know you can't. If you tried, you'd fail. Just do your job. Sell him the land on 7th Street and go on with your life. Harry might not turn you on like Big John, but Harry is not a bully.
She'd silently started to think of John Windom as Big John, not Coach.
Harry is the opposite of a bully, not that Harry is a wimp, but...
And Harry wouldn't cheat on you. The idea that he would is laughable. Harry Wiggen is a sweet man, not very ambitious, but ... ah, hell, you don't love him, never will.
When the door to the real estate office opened, her heart started to race. But Big John didn't walk in. A pretty little girl skipped through the door. Then Big John filled the doorway—literally. She sucked in air with a quiet gasp. Could she stand up and greet him, or would her knees give way?
Look at him! Tall, broad shoulders, narrow waist, decked out in Western gear. Peggy said he was brutishly handsome. He's that, that's for sure. Be calm. Don't make a fool of yourself.
Then Danielle's eyes flickered to the little girl. She wore Western clothes, too, blue jeans and cowboy boots, a belt with a Western buckle, a shirt with shiny snaps instead of buttons. Her blondish hair curled around and framed an adorable little face.
"Danielle, this is my daughter, Piper," John Windom said. "Piper, meet Danielle Kurt. Ms. Kurt is a real estate agent. She's going to help us buy land for our new home and horse ranch."
"Hi, Ms. Kurt. You're pretty," the girl said.
"Not as pretty as you," Danielle said. She looked up at the big man. "She's adorable, Coach."
"Yes, she is. She's the light of my life, and now that she's with me, we'll need a better place to live than the hovel we now occupy until I build our new home on the acreage we might buy today," he said.
"A rental?" Danielle said.
"Yes, but not necessarily furnished."
"That'll make it easier," Danielle said.
"About the acreage on 7th Street, it's a good location, and I like the view of the town below that it would give us, but to make the horse ranch a profitable operation, I'll need more than five acres."
"How many acres?"
"Twenty minimum, forty would be better," he said.
Danielle wondered how much money he'd inherited.
"Besides your commute to the high school, you should also consider proximity to the elementary school on 11th Street for Piper," Danielle said.
"Yes," he said. "How about acreage farther south on or just off Great Basin Highway?"
Danielle closed her eyes to concentrate, quickly reviewing some land listings from memory. "Maybe. Give me a sec," she said and sat in front of a computer. Her fingers danced over the keyboard, and a moment later, she said, "This might work. It's not one property, but two, but they share a property line." She sensed Big John behind her. Then she saw him look over her shoulder. She could smell him, and she luxuriated in his masculine fragrances. Concentrate. Do your job, she admonished herself.
"Let me put the properties on a map." Her fingers danced again, and a map appeared on the monitor. "This is property number one, seven acres with frontage on Great Basin Highway, not full frontage but enough for access, which makes the land more expensive. The seller is asking $20,000 an acre." The monitor flickered and another property became highlighted on the map. "This property has access off Steptoe Creek Road and abuts the other property at the rear. It's twenty acres, with an asking price of $10,000 an acre. The commute to the high school would be twenty to thirty minutes. Add ten more minutes to the elementary school."
"That's more money than I want to spend right now. Would the owner of twenty acres stand still for a first right of refusal?"
Damn, Big John knows real estate. "Don't know," she said, and then grinned. "Not until I ask."
"If you can make that happen, I'll buy the seven acres for the main house, barn, stables and training and show arenas. What about water on the properties? I'd want to put the second property into pasture and cultivate half of it with alfalfa."
Danielle checked the listings. "You'd need to drill. Let me call Christiansen Drilling. They're open Saturdays." She dialed the phone. Len Christiansen answered the call.
"Len, it's Danielle at Carver Real Estate. Got a buyer for some land off Great Basin Highway and Steptoe Creek Road. What's the water situation in that area?"
"No problem usually, but in places it's deep, about 200 feet," Christiansen said.
"The buyer wants to develop a horse ranch on the property to include a pasture out of ten acres and grow alfalfa on another ten acres. Can do?"
"Probably," Christiansen said.
"Great, if the sale goes through, I'll give the buyer your name," Danielle said and hung up. She told John what Christiansen had told her about water.
John nodded. "Any electrical power out there?"
"It's nearby. I don't know how close it is, but I can find out."
"Good. I've noticed that the wind blows a lot here."
She chuckled. "That's for sure."
"I'll also look into wind turbines to generate my own power. Let's look at your listing for rental houses, and then we'll drive out and take a look at the acreage and any rental houses that might work for Piper and me."
Delectable Danielle came through for me like a champ. The properties south of Ely off Great Basin Highway would work well for a horse ranch, but the land was completely undeveloped, which meant it was overpriced.
"Danielle, prepare an offer on the highway frontage acreage for $100,000. The buyer will be Dream Catcher Ranch, LLC. I'll put up ten percent, or $10,000, as earnest money. The purchase will be for cash without a contingency for obtaining an acceptable loan, and set the closing date for thirty days. I will want to consult professionals regarding electrical power and water during the inspection period, so I'll want an out if the land can't be developed for a horse ranch. The purchase must also be contingent on obtaining a first right of refusal on the other parcel, and vice versa on the rear property. In other words, I won't buy one unless I can buy the other, as well."
"All right," she said. "I thought you told me the inheritance would be in probate for two more months."
My attraction to this woman is as strong as or stronger than it was the first time I met her, I told myself. I definitely want to get to know her better, which means I shouldn't maintain that lie. "There is no inheritance. I'm a gambler, Danielle. I play online Texas hold 'em poker, and I win big and consistently." I went on to tell her about my amnesia and how I'd discovered the file that outlined the gambling web site and off-shore accounts while cleaning the house after Yvonne left me. Some of what I told her was a lie, but a lie I had to maintain to protect the amnesia lie. Lying is always problematic. "I earned the money legally. I've even paid taxes on the income, but I didn't know those facts when I talked with you, especially regarding taxes, so I made up the inheritance story. I'm sorry I lied to you, but in my defense, with my memory loss and a pending divorce, I felt it prudent to keep my gambling acumen secret. I have the cash to close this sale tomorrow, but thirty days will fit my schedule better."
I had paid taxes on the winnings, but I'd paid them when I was Aaron MacDonald. I didn't want to pay taxes on them again. I'd pay taxes on any new winnings, though, which reminded me to ask Elizabeth about an accountant.
Danielle gave me a hard look, then let all the air out her lungs and said, "Okay. What about the parcel off Steptoe Creek Road?"
"Prepare a first right of refusal offer for that property from the same buyer, which means Dream Catcher Ranch, LLC, will have the first right to buy the property at the price offered by another buyer, a real buyer, Danny, not a trumped-up buyer. I'll pay $2,500 for the first right of refusal."
"Okay. I haven't written a first right of refusal offer. I'll need Peggy's help to draft that document. Peggy Carver is my broker."
"No problem. You'll want corporate resolutions or their equivalent for limited liability companies to validate the offers. I'll have my attorney, Elizabeth Conner, prepare those documents and fax them to you. Let's move on to the rental houses we looked at. I'll rent the house on Grant Avenue, and I'll sign a one year lease. I won't dicker on the price. It's reasonable. Start the lease on the first of December. I'll pay first and last month's rent up front and a reasonable security deposit. If the lease is acceptable with the landlord, I'll want the utilities left on for the balance of November so I can move in slowly during the month, but I'll reimburse the landlord for the utility costs."
"You've got it, Coach," she said with a grin, and my heart melted—again. She'd turned me into mush a number of times during the last few hours. I wanted to ask her out, but...
Later.
I leaned toward Danielle and whispered so Piper couldn't hear, "The lease should contain a clause for a pet. I plan to give Piper a puppy for Christmas."
She shivered and smiled and said, "I understand."
I glanced at Piper. She looked tired. "Ready to go home, pumpkin?" I said to her. She'd been a real trooper.
"Uh-huh," she said.
"I'll have all the documents ready for your signature by noon Monday, Coach," Danielle said.
"Fax them to Elizabeth Conner as soon as they're prepared. She's my attorney. I'll want her to review everything before I sign anything. Please make any changes that she recommends, and I'll drop by after football practice on Monday afternoon, sign everything, and write the various checks needed for each transaction."
After I left Carver Real Estate, I called Elizabeth and told her about the offers I'd made and asked her to review the documents before I signed them.
"I'll do more than that, John," Elizabeth said. "I know Peggy Carver. She's a good real estate broker for home sales and rentals, so the lease for the rent house will be adequate, but she's not very experienced regarding land and commercial properties. I'll work with her and your agent ... what is her name?"
"Danielle Kurt," I said.
"Danny?"
"Yes."
"I know Danny. Okay, I'll consult with Danny to prepare the land sale and first right of refusal documents. Is Danny still in the office?"
"She was when I drove away five minutes ago," I said.
"I'll call her right now, then. The documents should be ready for your signature later this afternoon or tomorrow morning at the latest."
"I like the sound of that," I said. "Call me at my house when you've got a minute. I have some other unrelated questions for you."
"Will do," she said and hung up.
I glanced at Piper. She was sound asleep. She looked so innocent and peaceful, and she was so beautiful she made my teeth ache. While holding my hand, taking three steps to my one, she'd stomped all over the land with me without complaint. She had not really understood what was happening; she was just content to be with me.
A real trooper.
At the house, I carried the sleeping child inside, put her on her bed, slipped off her cowboy boots and placed a blanket over her.
I was online buying the drafting equipment and supplies that I'd need to design my house and outbuildings for the ranch when the phone rang.
"John, it's Elizabeth. I just got off the phone with Danny."
"Do you foresee any problems?"
"Regarding drafting the documents, no. If the first right of refusal offer flies I'll be surprised, though."
"Why do you say that?"
"I know the old codger that owns the land. He's stubborn as a mule. He'll baulk at anything other than a cash offer to purchase."
"Why? The refusal right doesn't encumber his freehold that much, and he..."
"He's my uncle, John, so I know him well. He's a simple man. For him, a first right of refusal will feel like a con of some sort."
"Dammit, I don't have the money right now to buy both properties, pay cash for the house and outbuildings that will be built on the land, purchase the horses that will form the base for a profitable horse ranch, furnish the house, and buy the equipment and accessories ... you get the picture. I do have enough money to buy the seven acres, construct the house and outbuildings and buy the horses right now. I planned to buy the twenty acres with poker winnings in about a year."
"Hmm, I see your point, and it's a good plan."
"How about a lease with an option to purchase?" I said.
"Same problem. Uncle Lou will ... Wait. That gives me an idea. How about a straight forward one-year lease without the option to purchase?"
"Nope. He's an old codger. What happens if he dies? His heirs might not want to sell period. Will he stand still for a ninety-nine year lease?"
"No. He wants to sell the land, not rent it."
"Elizabeth, it's imperative that I tie up some sort of right to purchase your uncle's land, or I won't buy the seven acres. Without pastures and land to grow some of my own feed, I can't make the horse ranch profitable."
"I understand," Elizabeth said with a sigh. "It's just that..."
"I want to meet this old codger face to face. Maybe I can persuade him to accept the first right of refusal. Can you set up a meeting?"
"Yes, but..."
"Make it soon, tomorrow if possible. If I can't make this deal fly, I'll start looking again."
"All right."
"I'll inform Danny about the meeting. I don't want her to think I'm going around her on this deal."
"She should be told, but I don't think she should sit in on the meeting."
"I agree."
"You said you had some other unrelated questions for me."
"Yes. The house I rented has four bedrooms. I'll use one for an office, and one bedroom is for a live-in cook/housekeeper/nanny. Do you know anyone that could do the job?"
"Not off the top of my head, but I'll ... Wait, I do know someone, a widow lady named Agnes Smith. I'll call her to see if she's interested. If she is, when would you like to meet with her?"
"Tomorrow would be good," I said. "Next subject, I need an accountant."
Elizabeth chuckled. "You sure do. Call Josh Wellington. His office is next to mine."
She gave me his phone number. When asked, she said that he was in the office, so after I hung up the call from Elizabeth, I called the accountant. I spent ten minutes with him explaining my amnesia, my poker acumen, and Dream Catcher Ranch, LLC. He knew about my coaching and teaching job.
Wellington went right to the heart of the matter. "What about taxes on your gambling winnings?"
"I want to pay them. I love my country and want to pay my fair share, but not a dime more. I don't truly know where the money came from that was sitting in the off-shore accounts. I might or might not be liable for taxes on those funds. Until I know, I will not pay taxes on that money. I have, however, kept track of my winnings since I lost my memories. I'll pay taxes on those and any future winnings."
"All right, Coach, I'll be your accountant. I'll query Elizabeth and then set up the books on the LLC. Have you purchased anything that will be owned by that entity?"
"Yes, some horses."
He laughed. "Tell me about them."
I did.
"Have you opened a bank account for the LLC?"
"No."
"Set one up, and soon, before you buy the land for the ranch. You'll also need a Tax ID number. Use a check from the business account for earnest money."
"All right." Monday was going to be a very busy day. I made an appointment to meet with Josh Tuesday evening.
Piper woke up. We ate dinner at the coffee shop in the Jailhouse Casino, where I was besieged with congratulations for the Winnemucca win.
At home, I asked Piper if she'd like to help me pick out the furniture for the rent house. The furniture would be moved to the ranch house next year, so I had to select furniture that would fit my vision of that home.
Piper nodded enthusiastically, so we hopped on the internet and browsed some web sites I knew about from my life as Aaron MacDonald that sold the type of furniture and accessories that appealed to me. With her help, I selected and purchased a kitchen table and chairs, some sofas and chairs for the living room, and the bedroom furniture for three bedrooms, except for mattresses. We'd buy the mattresses locally. We'd need the furniture for the first of the month, so I opted for express delivery, which cost a bundle I'm here to tell you.
I lost my $1,000 buy-in that night playing poker. Win some, lose some. Thank fate I won a lot more than I lost.
Piper and I met Mrs. Agnes Smith for lunch at the casino coffee shop. I guessed her age at forty-five, my age as Aaron MacDonald on the day I became twenty-six-year-old John Windom. Her hair was gray. Later in the conversation, she told us that her hair had turned gray in her twenties, a family trait. With a guilty grin, she added that she'd dyed it her natural color before it turned gray until the death of her husband last year. He'd been killed in a mining accident.
At first, Agnes—she insisted on being called Agnes, not Mrs. Smith—ignored me and concentrated on making a positive emotional connection with Piper. It didn't take a psychologist to see that Agnes loved children, and Piper, as children were wont to do, soaked up Agnes's love like a sponge and loved the older woman right back.
"Liz told me you have amnesia," Agnes said, finally turning her attention my direction.
Liz? Oh, she means Elizabeth.
"Yes," I said. I explained how I'd lost my memories, not how my ego, skill sets, and memories from a different life had been transferred to a different body. We chatted while we ate. She wasn't a native Nevadan, but rather was born in Louisiana. She'd met her husband when he was working at the Diamond Chrystal Salt Mine near New Iberia, Louisiana. She and her husband had moved around the country from mine to mine until they ended up in Ely, when her husband, Fred, went to work in a mine near Ruth, a small town northwest of Ely. Agnes and Fred had two grown children, one of each gender. Their son worked in Las Vegas, and their daughter lived with her husband in Idaho.
"Tommy, my boy, wants me to live with him and his family, but I don't want to do that," Agnes said. "I don't like Las Vegas, not as a place to live, anyway, and I don't get along with my daughter's husband. What I want is to live here and be able to visit my children and grand children once a year, short visits, maybe a week in each place. This means I need a job. Fred was a good man, but finance wasn't his strong suit. Liz helped me settle with the mining company, so I'm okay financially, but barely, and there's nothing left over for travel expenses to visit my children. Unfortunately, I'm not qualified for many jobs. I'm not an educated woman, Coach. Oh, I finished high school, but that's it, and I didn't work after I married Fred. I was a stay-at-home mom and housekeeper. And I can cook. I can cook French, Cajun, Creole, Mexican, and just plain American food. So, when Liz told me about this job, it sounded perfect for me."
"I'm looking for a long-term employee, Agnes, not someone who will work for me for a year or two. I want to give Piper some stability in life. She's had enough turmoil. Will this requirement work for you?"
"Yes, that's what I'd prefer, too."
"Did Liz tell you that we'll be moving to a small ranch out of town next year?"
"Yes, that isn't a problem for me either, except for transportation to and from the grocery store and other places. And one of us will be driving Piper to school and picking her up after school. With your schedule, I bet that'll be me. I own a car, but it isn't much and not long for this world."
I hadn't considered the expense of another vehicle, but it was obvious one would be needed, a sedan, probably.
"You'll have access to a vehicle," I said. "We're living in a hovel right now, but I've leased a nice four-bedroom house starting the first of December. You'll have your own bedroom, but will have to share a bath with Piper. Let's talk money now."
I think I surprised her with the salary I suggested. Then I said, "That's for six days a week. Do you have a preference for your day off?"
"Sunday, I think. It's a good day to visit friends, and I go to church on Sundays."
"What religion?" I asked.
"I'm a Methodist," she said.
I looked at Piper. "Should I hire her, pumpkin?"
She squared her little shoulders and said, "Yes. I like her."
"Would you like the job, Agnes?"
"Yes, I'm very excited about the opportunity."
"You're hired then. We have a problem until we move into the rent house. The house we're currently occupying doesn't have room for you. Will your vehicle get you to and from my current house until we move?"
"Probably."
"Good, can you start tomorrow morning?"
"I can."
My cell phone rang. Elizabeth was calling.
"Hi, Liz," I said.
"Liz? You've never called me Liz," she said.
"That's what Agnes calls you."
Liz laughed. "Yes she does, as does most everyone else I know. I kinda liked Elizabeth from you, though."
"Then Elizabeth it will be. You called me."
"Yes I did. My uncle has agreed to meet you today. How does three o'clock in my offices sound to you?"
"Fine by me. I hired Agnes, by the way. She starts tomorrow."
"I thought the two of you would hit it off."
"Agnes and Piper hit it off. That's what counts. See you at three."
Uncle Lou was Louis Alvin Hailey, age sixty, or thereabouts, maybe five-nine, maybe one hundred fifty pounds. A full head of gray, curly hair topped a craggy, tanned face so wrinkled it looked like the wrinkles had wrinkles. Like Piper and me, he wore Western duds. I liked him immediately, mostly because he didn't mind in the least that Piper sat in on the meeting.
"Liz tells me you want to buy my land off Steptoe Creek Road," he said with a smoker's voice.
"I do," I said. "I want to develop a little horse ranch. To that end I bought some appaloosas while I was in Vegas this week. I'm making an offer on the seven acres with highway frontage that abuts your property at the rear. I'll build my home and the horse facilities on that property. I plan to cultivate half your property with alfalfa and make a pasture out of the other half."
"Tell me about the horses you bought," he said.
"I bought a broodmare and a filly. The filly's sire was a world champion, and her dam was a national champion. The broodmare has produced a number of champions. The stallion they had for sale didn't impress me, but Piper and I will travel to other horse ranches over the coming year to fill out our string, to include a champion stallion."
"Where are you keeping the horses you bought?" he said.
"I left them on the ranch in Vegas. They'll board them for me and continue training the filly."
He nodded.
"Here's the deal, Lou," I said. "I coach football and teach English at the high school, so the land I buy has to be an easy commute for that work. Also, Piper is in kindergarten at Norman Elementary School on 11th Street. I figure I need a minimum of twenty acres to make the horse ranch profitable. I can't go farther out of town where the land gets cheaper because of the commute. The combination of the two parcels of land, one of them yours, fit my budget, but only if I can buy your property a year from now."
"That's what I don't understand," he said. "If you can buy it a year from now, why can't you buy it now?"
"It'll take me a while to earn the money to pay for the land. Besides coaching, teaching, and ultimately horse ranching, I'm also a poker player. Not at the casinos, but rather online over the internet. I play Texas hold 'em poker and I'm winning an average of around $3,000 per day." My average was greater than $3,000, but the lower number worked for the land purchase, and it was more believable.
"You told me $2,000," Elizabeth said.
"I've been improving my average." I grinned. "I lost $1,000 last night. Win some, lose some."
Lou cleared his throat and said, "Let's say you have two diamonds for hole cards. There's two diamonds in the flop. What are the odds that you'll get another diamond in the turn or river?"
"The hand odds for making the flush are two to one," I said immediately.
"What does that mean?" Elizabeth said.
"It means that for approximately every three times I play this hand, I can expect to hit a flush one of those times," I said, and then turned my attention to Lou. "I prefer playing hold 'em online. Do you have any idea why?"
"I do not," he said.
"No physical tells," I said. "I do not have a poker face."
He laughed.
"There are other reasons," I said. "For example, I can play whenever I have free time. I usually play after I put Piper down for the night. The gambling site I use is off-shore. I don't use it because it's off-shore. I use it because the other players cannot check my hand history, which would be disastrous with my method of playing. I can sit in on a game and quit at any time unless I'm playing a tournament. In tournament play on the gambling site I use, I either lose my buy-in or win the whole shebang, less the house rake-off, which is 10%. There's no prize money for third, or second place, my preference. Fortunately, I consistently win more than I lose."
"So, if you average $3,000 a day, you make..." He paused. "Do you play every day?" Lou said.
"No, I probably average between five and six nights a week, but let's say five. I play from one to three hours."
"So it'll take you a little over thirteen weeks to make enough to pay me for my land?" Lou said.
"Yes, except your land isn't the only expense I've got to cover beyond the purchase price of the other land parcel and the construction costs of my house and outbuildings. That's why I wanted the year."
He nodded. "Why coach and teach? It pays a pittance?"
I smiled. "True, but I enjoy the challenge. Last Friday before the game in Winnemucca, I told my assistant coach that a coach has to be a leader and a teacher. He leads the team and teaches the players on the team how to play a position as an individual and work with the team to win. I teach them how to win not only at the game of football but also at the game of life. A coach should teach his players how to become better human beings first and better football players second. That's the challenge, Lou. So what if it pays a pittance? The satisfaction I gain in meeting the challenge is a more important payment than currency." I chuckled. "And the government can't tax that payment."
He nodded, and then turned to his niece. "Liz, draw up a purchase contract. With a twenty percent down payment, I'll carry back the purchase price less the down payment for five years with four equal annual payments plus eight percent interest. No prepayment penalty." He looked in my direction. "Does that work for you, Coach?"
"It does," I said.
"Good," he said. "Now that's out of the way, let's talk horses. How many horses will you need to make the ranch profitable?"
"One exceptional stallion and fifteen brood mares for breeding, and I'll train five other horses for shows. I'll do the shows to make my horses more valuable and consequently the ranch more profitable."
Lou looked at Elizabeth. "Why are you still sitting there like a lump? Go type up the purchase contract while I talk horses with this young fella."
Elizabeth said, "The two of you talking about horses is more interesting than a dull legal document staring back at me from the monitor on my computer."
"I should hope so," I said.
"Piper, would you like to come with me?" Elizabeth said.
"Uh-uh. I want to listen to horse talk," she said and giggled.
Thank heaven for little girls.
While we talked horses, it became quickly apparent that Lou Hailey knew as much as or more about horses than I.
"Have you trained horses for competition?" I asked.
"I have, but mostly I was the rider. Won some reining competitions when I was younger."
"How about that! That's my specialty. Done any pole bending?" I said.
"Not as a rider. Trained an appaloosa for Nez Perce Stake Races, though. Let's see. That was 'bout twenty years ago in Idaho."
"Sounds like you know your way around horses. Listen, I'm going to need a ranch manager/trainer. Do you know anyone that could handle the job?"
"I'd take the job, but I'm too durned old." He raised one busy eyebrow. "Got anything against a woman doin' the job?"
"No."
"Got a lady friend. Mabel Grant. Don't know how old she is; she won't tell me. But I figure she's 'bout fifty, give or take a year or two. Been around horses all her life. Been a trainer. Been a rider. Moved here to take care of her old pa. He was a boozer. Lost his ranch up somewhere around Reno, and he ended up here. Don't know why. He died last winter. Mabel's stuck. No money. She's workin' as a waitress right now, putting together a stake to hightail it out of here. 'Spect she'll leave come spring. Good woman, smart as a whip. Between you and me, I'd rather she put down roots in this neck of the woods."
"Elizabeth!" I said, loudly.
She stuck her head in the room. "You bellowed?"
I chuckled and said, "Yes. Do you know Mabel Grant?"
"I do."
"Would she make a good ranch manager/trainer?"
"She would."
"Thank you. You can return to your affair with the computer monitor now."
"Humph!" she huffed and disappeared.
"I'd like to meet Mabel," I said to Lou.
"When?" he asked.
"I won't need a ranch manager until I have a ranch," I said. "I can't start building until spring, and it'll take me six to eight months to build the house and outbuildings, so the ranch won't go into operation until next fall. If Mabel and I come to an agreement, however, I'll use her as a consultant during the design and construction phase of the ranch. I'll also pay her consulting fees to travel with Piper and me on buying trips."
He nodded. "That might work for her."
"I have no time tomorrow or Tuesday. How about Wednesday evening?"
"I'll set it up. Where?"
"The coffee shop at the Jailhouse Casino," I said.
He laughed. "That's where she works as a waitress."
"Oh, that won't work then. Elizabeth!"
She walked into the conference room carrying a file. "What now?"
"May I use this conference room to interview Mabel Grant Wednesday evening?"
"Yes. Here's the purchase contract." She sat down, gave me a copy, and another copy to Lou."
I read it carefully and saw no problems. Lou barely glanced at the document. I signed my copy and slid it across the table to him. He did the same with his copy.
"I'll cut the check for the down payment tomorrow, Lou. My accountant says I've got to open a bank account for Dream Catcher Ranch, LLC, before I write anymore personal checks for the business."
He glanced toward Elizabeth. She said, "That'll work. I have to draft a few more legal documents besides the Offer to Purchase to close this transaction anyway, and Coach, with the out in this offer if you can't come to agreement with the seller of the seven acres, this sale can't close until after the inspection period on that deal." She looked at her uncle. "Which means, Uncle Lou, that this sale will close at the same time as the other transaction in approximately thirty days."
"Works for me," he said.
"Me, too," I said. I glanced at Piper. "Ready to go home, pumpkin?"
"Are you finished with horse talk?" she said.
"We are."
"Let's go home then," she said.
I entered two tournaments that night, won one of them, lost the other. Net gain: $8,000.
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