Penny McCusker - Noah And The Stork

Okay, maybe when she was a kid she’d wished for a father, even if he didn’t live with them. Some of the kids in school had parents who were divorced and they got to see their fathers, and that was all she’d wanted. But fathers weren’t always nice. The kids at school were always complaining about how their dads yelled at them and Davy Martin’s dad had even spanked him!

It wasn’t as if she thought Noah would do something like that, though; he didn’t seem to be that kind of guy. But she didn’t see any reason for him to stick around, either. Her life was fine the way it was. There was Clary—Deputy Sheriff Beeber—who took her fishing any time she wanted. Sure, it was partly because he liked her mom, the boy-girl icky sort of like, but they were friends, too, she and Clary. And there were the Devlins, who treated her as part of their family, even though they weren’t really related. That wasn’t so many people when you counted them up, but there was the whole town, too, Mrs. Halliwell, and the Shastas and just…everybody.

So what did she need a father for? Especially one who couldn’t even be bothered to explain why he hadn’t been around for her entire life. Well, she didn’t want explanations anymore. She just wanted him to go away and stay away.

“So where is he?”

Her mom glanced back at her. “He’ll be down in a few minutes.”

“He’s going to make us late.”

“No, I’m not.”

They both turned around. Janey stared at him as if she’d never seen a man wearing a dumb old black suit before. And he stared back.

Jessie flounced around in her chair and put on what her mom called her thundercloud face—which seemed to get the point across because her mom turned around again, loaded up the lunch box and snapped it shut, holding it out.

“C’mon, Jessie,” she said. “Bring your bowl to the sink and let’s get going.”

“It’s only six-thirty,” Noah said.

“I teach government and history at Plains City High School in the mornings—” Janey washed the two cereal bowls and put them on the draining board “—which, if you’ll recall, is fifty miles away.”

He didn’t take the hint. “What do you do in the afternoons?” he asked, leaning against the wall.

“I counsel at the high school two afternoons a week and teach art at Erskine Elementary the other three. And if that isn’t enough for you, I’m also Mayor of Erskine.”

“Sounds hectic.”

“That’s exactly why I’m trying to get rid of you. School starts at 7:30, which barely gives me time to drop Jessie off and get to Plains City before class.”

“I guess I’m on my own for breakfast.”

Her mom gave him a look that said he’d always been on his own for breakfast. And then she turned to Jessie and said, “Go get your stuff together, kiddo.”

“You just want to get rid of me so you can talk about me.”

Janey half turned, placing a hand on her hip, mother-daughter shorthand for “Don’t make me say it again.”

“Okay, okay.” Her mom followed her out to the front entryway, watching her go upstairs. Jessie stopped on the landing, just out of sight, but not out of earshot.

“Are you going to be around later?” she heard her mom say.

“There are…matters I need to take care of.”

“Matters?”

“I’m here on business, remember?”

See, Jessie reminded herself, he wasn’t even here for her. She was glad she’d already decided she didn’t want anything to do with him. She sneaked up the rest of the stairs, so they wouldn’t know she’d been listening, grabbed her stuff and ran down with her backpack in one hand and her duffel in the other.

“You must have the entire library in those bags,” Noah teased. “What are they teaching you kids these days?”

“I’m staying at the Devlin ranch. I’m helping with the spring roundup. We’re camping out Saturday night.” Jessie puffed up for a minute, before she remembered who she was talking to and that the last thing she wanted to do was impress him. “I’ll be home Sunday morning. You’ll be gone by then,” she said, wincing when she caught the way her mom looked at her. So what, Jessie thought. Noah Bryant had been rude for ten years. He deserved to get some of it back. “I heard you tell Mom you were leaving town. Again.”

Noah’s smile faded. “I have some business to take care of, Jessie. I’ll call you when I’m back in the area, and maybe we can…I don’t know, talk or something.”

Jessie stared at him the way she’d seen her mom do when she figured what she was hearing was B.S., then she dragged her stuff out to the car and waited to go to school. Just like it was a normal day.

She’d had lots of practice pretending her life was normal.

“Really, Mr. Gardner, it’s the best deal you’re going to get—unless there’s been a sharp increase in real estate here that I’m not aware of.”

Gardner scratched his head, staring intently at the purchase agreement Noah had set in front of him. “I don’t know, Mr. Bryant. It’s a big decision, selling my place.”

My place. Just like his old man, Noah thought. Hell Farm had been all about him. His dream. His life. He made all the decisions and dragged everyone else down with him.

Noah took a sip of coffee so weak it was probably the fourth pot brewed from the same grounds. Mrs. Gardner and her children were watching him as if he was the answer to their prayers. He knew he’d regret it, but he pulled the purchase agreement back, crossed out the amount and wrote another above it. Then he spun it around and slid it across the table.

Gardner took in the revised sum, his expression a mixture of greed and revulsion. “It’s not about the money.”

Not about the money? There was a reason cows outnumbered people in Montana, Noah figured. Most people were too smart to live in a state where day-to-day life was such a struggle.

No, that wasn’t entirely fair. Some people were cut out for this kind of life. He wasn’t.

And judging by the worn furnishings, the nearly empty pantry shelves, the hopelessness on the faces of Mrs. Gardner and her children, neither was John Gardner: He was just too stubborn admit when he was licked—or desperate enough to take the risk of blowing the deal on the chance he could squeeze a few more dollars out of the sale. Noah recognized in the man’s face what he’d trained himself not to see in his own mirror.

Work hadn’t been going all that well lately. He’d lost some of the momentum that had carried him to the upper ranks of the business world so fast, and the sharks were beginning to circle. He needed a big killing to get back on top of his game, and this was it. He couldn’t afford to blow it. He might even have said he was desperate not to blow it, but the difference between him and Gardner was that he wouldn’t let desperation drive him. “If that isn’t enough—”

“I thought you had to have this property,” Gardner said, looking up at him with suddenly shrewd eyes.

“I’d prefer this property.”

Gardner took a moment to consider the difference.

It was a moment too long. Noah rose. “Thanks for meeting with me,” he said, reaching for the purchase agreement.

Mr. Gardner snatched it from him. “I ain’t said no yet.”

“You haven’t said yes, either.”

“It’s not as easy as yes or no, son. Like this bit about keeping it a secret. Why is that, exactly?”

Noah had already explained it as best he could without revealing too much, but he swallowed his impatience. “Like I said before, Mr. Gardner. There’s nothing illegal or unethical about this deal. We’re not building something that’s harmful to the environment.”

“If there isn’t anything cagey about this deal, why the need to keep it from other folks?”