Chapter 9: One Step at a Time

"Mrs. Polson, it's Wade Masterson calling. As you know, I've taken over Myron Abernathy's practice and I notice that you are a client of his. I was wondering if I might talk to you about my taking on your file in place of Mr. Abernathy."

"Yes ... I suppose that's okay. I don't really know you, though. I mean, we met when I had my accident but I don't know anything about you."

"I understand. Perhaps we can talk and see if you feel at ease with my handling your affairs. It appears to be a fairly complex file and it will take some discussion whoever takes it on. Did you have someone else in mind?"

"No. I haven't given it much thought, to be honest. I know there are some outstanding issues related to Pete's insurance and his contract but I just haven't been very motivated to deal with them."

"I understand completely. Losing your husband must have been very traumatic. However, there are some very large sums at stake here and I would like to suggest we meet and see if you wish me to handle your affairs ... or if you would be more comfortable with someone else."

"Yes ... I think that's a good idea. Can you meet with me at my home in the evening?"

"Yes, of course. Tell me which day would be appropriate and I will be there."

"Tomorrow would be fine. Why don't you come here about eight o'clock. The children will be in bed by then and we won't be disturbed."

"Yes ... that will fine. I'll see you then ... eight o'clock tomorrow."

Brenda sighed as she hung up the receiver. She had to face it sooner or later, the last of the loose ends of her life with Pete. She had procrastinated at first, then simply ignored the unresolved issues. Old Abernathy didn't press her and she stopped thinking about it ... until now.

"Come in, Mr. Masterson," Brenda said. "Why don't we sit at the dining room table? It might be more convenient for you."

"Yes ... that's fine, thank you," he smiled as he entered the home.

Brenda took his coat and hung it on the coat stand by the door, then led him to the dining room.

"You have a beautiful home, Mrs. Polson. Very traditional on the outside yet very modern on the inside. I really like the layout."

"Thank you. My husband and I searched for a long time to find the plan we liked. It is everything we had hoped for."

"I was thinking about what kind of home I would like to build and this has given me a new perspective on it. I'm a city boy that lusts for a country home," he chuckled.

"Are you from Chicago originally?" she asked.

"No ... I was raised in Dearborn Heights, near Detroit. My father is a senior accountant at Ford and my mother is a teacher. We used to take the month of July and visit my grandparents' farm near Connersville. My dad would join us for the first three weeks, then head back to Detroit. Mom would have stayed the whole summer if she could. I would have too if I had the chance."

"How did you end up in Chicago?"

"I took my undergraduate degree at Port Huron State and then studied law at Northwestern. I was recruited by a major law firm in Chicago and grabbed the opportunity. I learned pretty quickly that it was a very competitive, dog-eat-dog environment. I did well at the firm but as my thirtieth birthday approached I began to take stock of what my life was like.

"I was single with no prospective wife in sight. I was working seventy to eighty hours a week clawing my way toward a junior partnership. I made a ridiculous amount of money but didn't have the time or energy to enjoy it. One day, I took a look at what I was doing with my life and decided it was time for a change. As much as I loved the law, I hated the way I was practicing it. I was more focused on billable hours than the concerns of my clients.

"It took me a year to find a practice in a location that I could be happy with. A friend at another law firm told me about Myron Abernathy's intent to retire and that his practice was for sale. I came down here about six months ago to look it over. I picked a bright, warm, sunny day to visit and I was sold before I even met the man. It was the mirror image of my grandparents little town. Mr. Abernathy and I didn't argue very much about the price. I'd have paid anything to be here ... so here I am."

"That's quite a romantic story, Mr. Masterson. So now you'll be a country gentleman lawyer?"

"Something like that," he laughed. "I have driven past your home many times in the last few months, always envious of the property; the hills, the trees, the barn. You have horses as well, I noticed."

"Yes. One for me, one for Marietta and one that Pete was going to ride. I've also taken on a couple of boarders. Their owners work off their board by mucking the stalls and looking after the feed in the evening. They are two young girls who love horses. They're teaching Marietta and me how to properly care for the animals and how to ride. It's a good arrangement."

"I'm looking into some property not far from her, just a little further west," he said. "I'd love to have a horse. I used to ride my grandparents work horses when he was plowing or pulling a wagon. I'd hang onto the collar for dear life but it was the best time I can remember. I'd like to recapture some of that life."

"Well, if you don't have a place, you can board a horse here. I've got eight stalls and only five are filled. I'm sure the girls won't mind one more to deal with," Brenda volunteered.

"That's very generous of you, Mrs. Polson. I might take you up on that. I think it would be a very good way to relax and forget about other people's troubles."

"Did you say you went to Port Huron State? My husband went there too. He got a degree in engineering."

"Yes ... I guessed that your husband was Pete Polson, the basketball player."

"That was him," Brenda grinned.

"I was a couple of years ahead of him but he was something to see. He made our team into a winner. Then, he went on to star in the pros. That didn't surprise any of us. Pete the Penetrator! He really was something to see."

Brenda blushed at the old reference to Pete's college nickname. It didn't always refer to just his basketball skills, she remembered.

"Small world," Masterson said absently.

"Should we talk about the legal issues, Mr. Masterson?"

"Of course but, if it's all right with you, I'd be just as happy if you called me Wade."

She smiled. "Wade it is and I'm Brenda."

"Good. Now ... I can tell you that I've looked over the file and I can't see anything other than some neglect of tidying up issues. Nothing serious but you have a significant amount of money outstanding, particularly with the insurance company. So why don't we tackle that first?"

Brenda nodded her agreement and they began to discuss the file. When she next looked at the grandfather clock it was almost eleven o'clock. She had been absorbed in the file and the clear and concise way the lawyer had laid out the issues and what was at stake. It was much more understandable than when she was dealing with Myron Abernathy.

"It's late, Brenda. We've covered a lot of ground tonight. You have a couple of decisions to make but let's leave them for a bit so you can think about them. In the meantime, I'm going to concentrate on the insurance company. They are doing what insurance companies do best ... stalling. The longer it takes to pay out a claim, the better for them."

"Good. I just want the loose ends all tidied up. It's been going on too long and that's my fault. I haven't wanted to deal with Pete's affairs, I've just ignored them. We aren't short of money so there wasn't any urgency."

"I understand completely, Brenda. You let me get this insurance issue settled and then we can work with Mr. Sorensen to resolve the balance of Pete's contract. Here's my card if you want to contact me. I'm boarding at Mrs. Weisbach's house for now until I can get my home built. I kind of like it there. It reminds me of my grandparents' farm house. Very homey."

"I've known Gertie Weisbach since I was a little kid. She's a nice lady. She knows everything about everybody in Fairmount," Brenda grinned. "If you're looking for an information source, she's your girl."

When Brenda lay in bed that night, she felt relieved. One of those nagging things she hadn't wanted to deal with was now being taken off her back. Wade was professional and yet not cold or clinical. He had a more folksy way about him that wasn't evident when they first met. She felt confident that she would be satisfied with his efforts on her behalf.

It took a month of back-and-forth for Wade Masterson to get the insurance claim settled. In the end, he had to threaten to sue for further monies to compensate Mrs. Polson for the "pain and suffering" due to the company's foot dragging on the death of her husband. That, above all other efforts, produced the result. The claim was paid in full: two million dollars deposited into an investment account in Brenda's name.

The issue with the Grizzlies was much less confrontational. Mark Sorensen had been waiting to hear from Brenda on how she wanted the balance of Pete's contact dispersed. If she took it in a lump sum, the tax would take a substantial bite. Instead, Sorensen, in good faith, had put the money in secure, interest-bearing bonds, awaiting Brenda's decision. Wade complimented the Grizzlies' general manager on his thoughtfulness and patience.

A brief meeting at the house resulted in Brenda contacting Ron Metcalf in Memphis, who was still handling her investment portfolio. He advised her to keep the funds in the account the Grizzlies had set up to shelter it in the short term. If she had some other desires as to how the money might be used for charitable purposes, they could withdraw and transfer without penalty. She took the advice and at long last, six months after his death, the affairs of Peter Polson had come to a conclusion.

April welcomed a warm and sunny spring, hailed after a harsh winter in southern Indiana. The horses could be left in the paddock overnight now, the barn doors left open if they wanted shelter. Tish and Robin, the young girls who were helping with the chores in the barn, were anxious to have another horse join the stable. They had met Wade briefly and were immediately taken by his handsome good looks and easy manner.

It was Saturday morning and Wade was leaning over the top rail of the paddock, watching the five horses as they munched on the morning hay. He was wearing a cotton work shirt, jeans, well-worn cowboy boots and a Stetson. With a big leather belt to complete the ensemble, he looked every bit the part. The only thing missing was a piece of straw in his mouth.

Brenda was on the other side of the paddock, getting ready to open the gate and let the horses out into the pasture. There were ten acres of fenced grazing land for the horses to stroll or romp and a creek near the far corner supplied fresh, clean water for them. A few trees provided some shade from a hot summer sun and the black, rich soil made sure that the grass grew quickly and thickly.

It was the first time that Brenda had taken the opportunity to appraise Wade Masterson, the man. He was a bit taller than her, but only an inch or so. He was lean but appeared fit. She had seen him out running on the road on occasion. He had an angular face, pale blue eyes and sandy, close-cropped hair, reminding her of Randall. His smile was easy and genuine and he looked comfortable as she watched him at the fence.

Tish and Robin had finished putting out the hay and signaled Brenda to open the gate. The horses didn't move from their feed but when they were done they would wander off into the pasture and spend the day grazing. They would somehow know when to return for the evening feed so there was no need to call them.

"You look just like an old hand, Wade," Brenda said as she walked to his side.

"Got to dress the part, you know," he grinned. "I always dreamed of bein' a cowboy when I was a kid. I guess I never got over the idea. Now, maybe I can find out if I was really cut out for the part."

"If you like, we can saddle Pete's horse and we can go for a ride. It's too nice a morning to pass up.

"Seriously? I'd love to. It's been years but I don't think I've forgotten everything."

"Let go get a saddle and bridle," she said, turning to the girls. "Robin, Mr. Masterson and I are going for a ride. He'll take Cherokee."

"Okay, Brenda," Robin waved in reply, smiling as she watched the two.

Twenty minutes later the horses were saddled and ready to ride. Robin had given Wade a tutorial on saddling and adjusting the stirrups. It was well that she did since he'd forgotten the long-ago lesson.

"Keep an eye on the kids will you please, Tish?"

"No problem, Brenda."

"You sit well on Cherokee, Wade," Brenda remarked as they walked the horses out of the paddock.

"He's a big horse. What breed is he?"

"Ah, we don't know for sure. He's part Clydesdale and part something else. We got him and my horse from an Amish farmer up near Fort Wayne. He used him to pull wagons but didn't think he was cut out for that. He sold him to us because he was saddle-broke and gentle around kids and other horses. It's just a shame Pete only got to ride him a time or two. We've had a few greenhorns out here wanting to ride so I use Cherokee and my horse Wilma for that."

"Who owns that beautiful, big red horse I saw?"

"Oh ... that's DeeJay. He's a show horse ... or his owner wants him to be one. He's a bit twitchy to ride so his owner is usually the only one who you'll see up on him."

"Too bad. Fine lookin' horse, that's for sure."

"Looks can be deceiving," Brenda said wryly. "Wilma here was a handful when I first got her but that was because her owner didn't pass along any TLC. She just needed a little lovin' to settle down. Now we get along just fine, don't we girl?" she said, patting the horse's neck.

"She's a pretty big horse too," he commented.

"No surprise there, Wade. I'm a pretty big girl." She looked over and saw him smiling at her. The conversation was comfortable and easy. She was enjoying it. Wade was easy to like and she was happy she decided to invite him along on this morning's ride.