Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
He narrows his eyes and takes a slug of the beer that’s been put in front of him. “Is that right? And you going to encourage these visitors down to our town?”
This strikes me as a trick question. On the one hand, he might see the benefits of having people with a pocketful of cash spending it in Star Falls. On the other hand, he might not want a bunch of strangers interrupting their peaceful way of life.
“That’s something I’ve been thinking about,” I say. “I’d like your thoughts on whether that’s something you’d like to see.”
He lets out a small chuckle.
“I’m creating a lot of jobs,” I say. “Opportunities. If people want them.”
“I hear you’re shipping people in from out of town.”
“There will be plenty of staff housing so people don’t have to be local, but I’m advertising in the Star Falls Gazette. Got it online too. And there’s flyers being handed out at Marty’s Market and the post office. We’re just not seeing the interest from the town.”
A silence settles between us. Jim isn’t a bad guy. He’s not about to run me out of town for daring to change small-town life in Star Falls. At the same time, he’s protective of this place and its residents. Perhaps more so than his wife.
“How’s Mrs. Johnson?”
“You can call her Sue. She’s good. We can see the lights of your place from our back porch.”
I scan his face, looking for signs of anger or frustration, but I don’t see any. I relax my shoulders. I’ve spent the last three years of my life getting the relevant permissions and permits from local and state officials, and there were never any complaints from anyone from Star Falls.
“How’s it look?” I ask.
“Pretty,” he replies.
There’s a beat of silence before I say, “I’d love to have you come and look around if you’d like.”
He sucks in a breath. “Listen, son. I’m not interested in fancy restaurants and spas and whatever the hell else you’ve got going on up there.” He takes a sip of beer and I wait for the but. I know there’s one coming. “I’ve been walking through those woods and across those mountains for a good five decades now.” He glances around the bar. “Just like a lot of other people in this town.”
I nod, keen to hear what it is he’s trying to tell me.
“I do it less in the winter. Don’t want to take any unnecessary risks. But I still like to wander with my dogs. You know?”
“Right,” I reply.
“And we’re hearing rumors about electric fencing and checkpoints and… I’m not sure that’s going to go down so well. From what I hear, you’ve got your hands on fifteen thousand acres of land—that’s pretty much everything of the mountains and the valley that you can see from this town. Much more than the five hundred acres your father had.”
I take a swig of my beer. My father’s farm had been small by Colorado standards. He grew apples mainly, and some other fruit. The farm had been in the family three generations, and I was supposed to be the fourth. At least, that’s what Mom always told me.
When Dad died and we discovered the huge loans he’d taken out on the farm, I don’t know if I was more relieved or horrified. I was no longer locked into a future I didn’t want, but I also didn’t know what the future would look like otherwise. My father’s gambling meant I had to forge my own path, but it also meant the farm’s lineage had been cut short.
Until I bought it back five years ago.
“You’re right,” I say to Jim. “Fifteen thousand two hundred forty-four acres.”
“And as well as you buying up some of the neighboring farms, some of that land belonged to the state before you.”
I nod. I’d bet Jim knows exactly the boundary line of the Colorado Club. I’m not quite sure what he’s getting at, but no doubt I will soon.
The sound of chairs scraping against the floor catches my attention. Someone comes up from behind Jim and offers me his hand.
It takes me a minute before I realize it’s Walt fucking Ripley. Our mothers had been best friends since school and got pregnant with us both at the same time. “Hey, man,” I say. He’s unmistakably Walt, but older and forty pounds heavier. Then again, it’s been fifteen years since I laid eyes on him.
“Byron,” he says with a nod.
“Can I get you a beer?” I ask.
“You bet your ass, you can. I figure you owe me for going off to New York without me.”
Walt had been the guy who stood by my side at my father’s funeral. The guy who’d told me it was going to be okay when I found out we were going to have to move because the family farm was being sold by my father’s creditors to pay back all the loans he’d taken out to pay off his gambling debts. He was the boy who helped me formulate a plan to get out of Star Falls. Of course I hadn’t forgotten him. I just hadn’t let myself think about Star Falls after I left. It held too many painful memories.