6 comments/ 23164 views/ 7 favorites I'm Not Lisa Ch. 07-09 By: coaster2 Chapter 7 Decision Time Tim was of two minds when we went to see him Tuesday morning. He was dealing with an old friend and two employees, and his needs were conflicted. He wished us happiness and jumped up the give me a hug and Rance a hearty handshake. But in truth, he was disappointed that he would lose his old army buddy and his head of security. He would need to find a competent replacement. Still, the two men had gone through a lot together, and whether Rance was here or in Colorado, they would remain close friends. Rance had contacted Brent "Buster" Rhimes, another army friend whom he had met in Landstuhl, also recovering from wounds. Brent had lost a leg, and wondered what he would do with himself when he was released. He had joined the army to learn a trade, but the only trade he learned was killing people. He was smart enough to take advantage of the rehab training programs offered, but he had yet to find something that satisfied him. Currently, he was a security guard at a shopping mall. "I called Buster today," Rance told me at lunch. We had resumed our noon hour habit, but with a totally different atmosphere. "He's got some time off comin', so I'm goin' to bring him up here for an interview. I'm hopin' he can do the job. I think he's got what it takes." "And if he can't?" "I guess I'll have to go the usual way ... search party." "That will take some time," I said. "Where is he?" "Reno, Nevada. Would you have someone get a plane ticket for him, please?" He passed me a single page with Mr. Rhimes' details on it. "He can get a couple of days off, so make whatever arrangements work for him. I don't want him havin' problems with his employer if it doesn't work out." This was another side of Rance I had seen before: the thoughtful man, looking at all eventualities. I had something else on my mind. "I think you should talk to Doreen. See if you're okay with her." "Yeah. Can you make an appointment? I'll make sure I'm available. Doreen jumped at the chance for my job, but she was just as full of questions about where I was going. I wasn't about to tell her everything, since it would be around the office in a flash. I needed Rance to give her the speech about security and what that means to her if she took the job. "I'm not interviewing you. Rance is." "Rance? Holy shit, Julie. Rance himself?" "Yes. So be prepared," I chuckled. "Oh ... I'd better take a Valium." "Relax, girl. He won't do you any harm ... physically anyway. But he will want to let you know just what the job is all about. I can fill you in on the details afterwards." "Okay, Julie. If you say so. And ... thanks for getting me this chance. It's the first time I've had an opportunity for a big promotion. I don't want to mess it up." "Relax ... you'll be fine. I know you can do the job. You covered for me when I was on vacation, so it's just a matter of understanding the security part. What you can and can't say." If I had any doubts about Doreen, it would be her ability to keep things to herself. It wasn't a job that allowed you to share information unless it was asked for by a person with the credentials warranting it. Like Tim, or Rance, for instance. She was visibly nervous when she showed up at three that afternoon for her interview. I showed her into Rance's office and closed the door, leaving them alone. It would be interesting to hear what he had to say when they were done. That turned out to be a half-hour later. "Well, what do you think?" I asked as I walked through Rance's open door. "I think she can do the job alright. She's pretty anxious to get it, that's for sure. Her file doesn't show any reason not to give her the chance. Can you think of anythin' that might cause a problem?" I hesitated. "I think she needs to hear the speech from you about loose lips sinking ships. She not a gossip, but just to be sure, she needs to know what's out of bounds when it comes to information. Especially considering how sensitive and personal some of it is." "Good thinkin'. I think we can get her started right away, then you can judge for yourself if anythin' we don't expect shows up. You certain she can run the database?" "Yes. Absolutely no problem. She was involved on the design team, remember. Why don't you call her? She'll be sitting on pins and needles waiting to hear." He smiled and picked up the phone. By the sound of it, Doreen had barely returned to her desk when she answered. By Rance's reaction, she was excited and couldn't wait to get started. Rance decided next Monday would be soon enough. We had other priorities this week. Buster Rhimes arrived on Thursday evening, and Rance and I met him at the airport. I wasn't prepared for the man that approached Rance with a giant smile and outstretched arms. He was big. Bigger than Rance both in height and weight. He was also black. He walked with a slight limp, but not with what I always thought of as the characteristic gait of a man with an artificial leg. The other thing I noticed was how he was dressed. Neat, pressed, almost military in his presence. I guess that shouldn't have been a surprise. When they had finished almost crushing each other in welcome, Rance turned to me. "Julie, I'd like you to meet my very good friend, Brent Rhimes. But almost everyone knows him as Buster. Named after a boxer, I'm told. Buster, this is my fiancée and partner, Julie Sanchez." "Fiancée!" the big man said in total surprise. Hell, he was no more surprised than I was. He approached me and for a moment I was worried I was about to be on the receiving end of one of his bear hugs. Fortunately, he had a sense of proportion, and gave me a gentle squeeze. "Well, well, someone finally got to the Stoneman. Congratulations, Julie." Stoneman? I wondered, looking at Rance. "I'll let him explain it to you," Buster said with a big grin. "I didn't know you served with Rance," I said, now confused. "I didn't. We were in different units, but in the same area. Everyone knew about Rance. Dragged two of his men to safety, took out a whole mess of Taliban by himself. Hell, they gave him a medal for it," Buster proclaimed. "I'd heard something about it, but ...." Rance cut the conversation off at that point. "Enough of that for now. Let's get you to your hotel and we can have a drink and talk." I had a couple of questions for Rance when we were alone. I ended up being a bystander at what could only be described as an informal but thorough interview. It was done on a friendly and familiar basis, but I could recognize what Rance was looking for. It was subtle, but it would get him information he wanted in a comfortable and non-confrontational way. Buster admitted he had a hard time after being released from the army. He wasn't prepared for anything particular in the real world. Rance already knew his skills, but what he was searching for was his attitude and just how dedicated he was to improving himself. I had to admire the skill with which he drew Buster out. We were in the bar for over two hours, and the whole time, the conversation seemed friendly and general. If Buster was aware of what Rance was doing, he didn't show it. To him, it was a conversation between friends. When we shook hands and agreed to meet him for breakfast Friday morning, I couldn't wait to quiz Rance. "I had no idea you were so good at that," I said as we walked to the truck. "Good at what?" "That interrogation. Did Buster know you were doing that?" "Yep. Part of trainin'. He knew." "Well?" "He'll be fine. I watched his eyes. He was honest. He wasn't hidin' anythin' ... leastways, nothin' important." "You got all that from just a conversation and his eyes?" He nodded. "Part of the specialist trainin' I got in Fort Benning. Very helpful when playin' cards," he chuckled. "I'll bet. And what was that about me being your fiancée? Jumping the gun a bit, aren't you?" "Are you upset?" It was a serious question. "No. But, I wish you had prepared me." "Sweetheart, I've been preparin' you all week. I don't know how many times I've asked you to marry me and you've never said 'No.' I figured I was entitled to make an assumption." "Oh ... so now I'm sweetheart, am I?" "You know it," he grinned. "When we get home I'll prove it to you." Doreen started with me on Monday morning, eager and excited at her new job. Rance had called her into his office just after his meeting with Tim and gave her the security speech all of us had heard at one time or another. Coming from Rance, there was no mistaking that he was deadly serious about security and would tolerate no lapses. At this stage, Doreen did not know that both Rance and I would be leaving. In fact, she didn't know that the big black man that visited the office on Friday would be her new boss. I didn't expect a problem. Buster was very laid-back, much like Rance. I think it must have come from all the nasty and ugly things they had seen in combat. Working in this environment wouldn't cause anywhere near the same amount of stress. Rance told me that Buster's interview with Tim went very well, and although the boss was unhappy to lose his head of security, he was pleased that Rance had found an able and likable replacement. Kleinhauser would not suffer in the exchange. The next three weeks seemed to drag on forever. Doreen, as predicted, picked up my job in no time at all. It once again confirmed that Rance had chosen me for the role because he wanted my nearby. A waste of training and talent, but when I thought back on it, I didn't mind as much as I thought I might. Maybe that year we had spent dancing around each other wasn't wasted after all. Maybe it was what I needed to be sure he was the right man for me. I began to daydream about what it would be like to be a rancher's wife. What would I do with my time? I'd been in school or competitive swimming when most young girls of my age might have been at home learning some of the domestic skills. I could cook and clean, but nothing special. I had some things to learn. Perhaps Marion would guide me. We seemed to get along well. I hoped she would teach me what I needed to know. At least I knew how to ride. One step at a time, I decided. Rance suggested I sell my car. We would pack all our possessions into his pickup truck and share the driving to Trinidad. It seemed like a practical idea, so I posted my car on Craig's List and took the first reasonable offer I got. I'd bought it used when I graduated, so it didn't owe me anything. I could replace it when I got to the ranch. The young man who bought it was tight for money, so I felt he was getting a reliable car for a very reasonable price. As the day we were to leave approached, I began to get nervous. I suppose it was fear of the unknown. I was leaving my job, my home base ... at least home in Spokane ... and running off with a fantasy cowboy I had created in my dreams. How crazy was this ... really? It could turn out badly so easily. Maybe he isn't the Superman I had constructed for myself. Maybe I'm making a huge mistake. I was having second thoughts. Buster arrived from Reno ten days before we were scheduled to leave. Doreen was surprised and maybe a bit disappointed that Rance wasn't going to be her boss, but got over it soon enough. She and Buster seemed to get along fine, so I knew she would be alright. I suspected Tim would keep an eye on things for a while, just to make sure everything was going smoothly. They held a going-away party for us at the nearby hotel and it was a lot of fun, despite the fact that both of us would be leaving good friends and workmates behind. I had really liked working at Kleinhauser, and wondered more than once what I would find to replace it in Trinidad. I was sitting at a table talking to some of the girls I had worked with when I first started at the company. Sandra Pullman joined us to say goodbye since she was leaving early. She was a special woman and someone who introduced me to critical thinking at the corporate level. Tim was very lucky to have her. I gave her a big hug as a thank you for all her help and friendship. The group started to break up and Rance came back to the table to sit with me. "I know it's traditional for people like us to go look for a ring, but I have somethin' special I'd like you to wear before we do that," he said quietly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, slim ring with a single stone in it. It might have been a diamond, but I couldn't tell. "This belonged to my Great-Great-Grandmother. I'm the last in line on her side of the family that bears the Cameron name. Maybe we're not officially engaged, but you'd make me proud if you'd wear it." I don't know if it was the tension, the alcohol, or the moment, but I was in tears in seconds. The little ring was so dainty and so very old that it was more special to me than the biggest diamond any girl could want. I held out my left hand and Rance slipped in on my third finger as if it was made especially for me. I could barely see him through my tears, but I felt his kiss and then the applause and cheers as I realized we were surrounded by our friends and fellow employees. It took me a while to recover from a very emotional moment. I had accepted the ring and that to everyone was a signal that Rance and I were formally engaged. I spent a while thanking everyone for their congratulations and happy comments. Even the guys seemed genuinely happy for me. Tim, of course, spent quite a bit of time trying to warn me about Rance's faults, but I knew he was kidding and I didn't take anything he said seriously. And then we were alone, driving back to the apartment for the last time. In the morning, we would put the last of our things in the crew cab of the truck and be on our way. I had given up my apartment almost immediately when we had decided to leave Spokane, and fortunately Buster was happy to assume the lease. It was furnished, so there was nothing to move out but my clothes and personal effects. Buster was in the same situation, so it was an easy transition. The sun had long since risen on that early June morning when we prepared to leave Rance's apartment for his home. I had to get my head around the idea that it was going to be my home too. When I awoke, my arm was draped across his abdomen, only inches above his groin. Only a single sheet covered our naked bodies, but I was warm and comfortable in the presence of my lover. I could feel the petite ring on my finger and trembled at the thought of its significance. By accepting it, I had made a commitment. A commitment just like the one Lisa had made before me. I would die before I would break that pledge. But then, why was I so nervous about our future? I had convinced myself that I was in love with Rance Cameron. I didn't allow myself any doubt about that. So what was gnawing at me? We made love before we rose and showered and made our last pot of coffee. We each had a cup, then poured the rest of the pot into Rance's thermos, packed up the final pieces of our belongings and took them to the truck. One last look around to make sure we hadn't forgotten anything, and we were on our way. We stopped in Laurel, Montana. Rance had reserved a room at the Great Northern Inn, a place he had previously stayed and liked. There was a nice restaurant nearby and the motel provided a continental breakfast each morning. I had shared a bit of the driving, and we weren't as tired as we might have been after getting a somewhat later start on the road. In our time together, there wasn't much that we hadn't talked about at one time or another. From time to time, Rance would take my hand when he was driving and hold it for a while. I don't think I could have been more comfortable or relaxed. If my worries about the future hadn't disappeared, they had certainly been suppressed. I found myself staring at the ring quite often, fingering it as I contemplated what was to come. We got a much earlier start on Sunday morning, and as you would expect, the traffic on I-90 was very light. We stopped at Buffalo, Wyoming, to stretch our legs and take a bathroom break before switching off to I-25 on our way south to Cheyenne. With both of us driving and the traffic being light, we decided to push on through to Denver, about five hours south of Buffalo, not counting a lunch stop. We stayed in a nice hotel on the south side of Denver, deciding to avoid the typical Monday morning traffic on the interstate before heading down to Trinidad. We were about four hours drive from the ranch now, and I could sense the anticipation in Rance. I felt it too. Not apprehension, just expectation. I wasn't worried about my reception with his parents. We had got that out of the way on my first visit and my phoned apology for running off the way I did had been accepted gracefully by Marion. We were fairly silent on the last leg of our journey. I suppose both of us were thinking about what was to come. Over the past two days, I had been able to pull more out of Rance through conversation. I deliberately avoided discussing Lisa. There was no point in opening old wounds. But I was interested in how the nickname "Stoneman" came about. "You don't need to know about that, Julie. Let's just say it was about my attitude after I got Lisa's letter. I just stuck to my job and didn't try to be everybody's buddy. Not the best time of my life, and not somethin' I can look back on with pride. That's somethin' you need to know about me. I can close up sometimes. I'm countin' on you to stop that from happenin'," he finished with a smile. "I'm not sure how I'll do that, but I'll try," I promised, wondering just how it might manifest itself. "With you around, I doubt it's goin' to be a problem." I could tell he was trying to reassure me, so I let it go. "Will I get to meet your sister?" "No doubt. I haven't told her about your misunderstandin' when she came out to see me that day. She doesn't need to know." I was fine with that. I didn't need any more embarrassment than I had already achieved. I had to hope neither of his parents would tell the story either. "What was the problem with her husband?" "Billy is an idiot. He wants to be a big time high roller, but he doesn't know how. He thinks by hitchin' his wagon to Dexter Prentice that he'll end up rich and respected. It ain't goin' to happen." "So ... what did he do?" "He tried to cut a deal with the gas company, CoalMeth, to pay him a finder's fee for any exploration agreements he could deliver. Apparently, he was tryin' to get paid for agreements he didn't have, includin' ours." "Yours?" "There are two old mines that have been shut down for over thirty years on the south-west edge of our property. They used to pay a small royalty when they were operatin', and that helped my great-grandparents expand and operate the ranch. Now, with gas exploration goin' on, a few of the speculators are seein' dollar signs again. Billy was tryin' to take advantage of that. Not everyone is happy to see this happenin'." "Do you think they'll want to explore on your property?" "Yeah. They've already approached Dad about it. It'll have to be a pretty good deal before we agree. But if we can cut one, it might allow us to keep the ranch as it is and make the change in stock." "That would be good, wouldn't it?" "Yeah. That would be good," he grinned. "Somehow I don't think you're cut out to run a dude ranch," I chuckled. "You're right about that. It'd take about two days of some flatlander comin' in here and givin' me orders before I did somethin' to piss them off." "Rance, I do believe I've gotten mixed up with a man living a hundred years in the past. You're a perfect piece of history. The last of the real cowboys." I'm Not Lisa Ch. 07-09 "I suppose that's so," he grinned. "You havin' second thoughts." "No ... not really. Just trying to adjust to who you are and what to expect. Us Sanchez girls are used to old fashioned. I can handle it." "I'm countin' on it." Chapter 8 My New Life My welcome at the ranch was warm and heartfelt. Marion embraced me and hugged me close, telling me how happy she was that I had come back with Rance. Angus was still in his wheelchair, but he too was pleased with my return and gave me a nice big kiss to prove it. Both of them knew about the misunderstanding and why I had left so suddenly. They thought it was a sign of how much their son meant to me and equally how much I meant to him. Apparently he hadn't been very pleasant to live with during the ten days following my departure. His parents left it to us to decide where to put my bags, and Rance didn't waste any time with pretense. He put them in his room. I walked into it for the first time and saw that it was much like his apartment in Spokane. Simple, clean, very neat, without any decoration or personalization. I wondered if he would object if I changed things slightly. The room needed some warmth besides the warmth we would create for ourselves. "This room is like what I imagine an army barracks would be," I said in passing. "Yeah, I suppose it is. I haven't lived here much and I haven't really tried to make in my own. Maybe you can suggest some things?" "I've got a family picture and I'd love to see a couple of yours too." "Caroline took some sunset pictures a few years ago. We could probably frame one of those." "May I see them?" He went down the hall to the last door and opened it. A couple of minutes later, he returned with several eight-by-ten glossies in color. The sun had been setting on the mountains and cast a beautiful orange glow that she had captured perfectly. "Your sister is a good photographer." He nodded without comment. I selected one of the photos and set it aside. I could go into town and .... "I just thought of something. I don't have a car." "We've got a couple of extra vehicles you can use. There's a Jeep Wrangler that should suit you, or an older Dodge Ram if you'd like somethin' bigger. Can you drive a stick shift?" "Yes. I had a Mazda before the Malibu." "I'd suggest the Jeep, then. We don't use it much 'cept when there's a cattle drive." "Thanks. I'd like to go to town and get some things. Oh ... shit ... I just realized. I don't have a job any more. What am I going to do for money?" I was talking to myself rather than Rance. "What's mine is yours," he said quietly, his arms circling me and pulling me close. "There's time enough to decide what you want from this life here on the ranch. Maybe a home business? In the meantime, I assume you've still got access to your bank in Spokane?" "Actually, it's my bank in Salinas. I do everything electronically. I don't even write checks. I just charge things and pay off the card monthly." "Smart girl. No point in changin' then, is there?" "I guess not. I haven't spent much since I went to work, so I've got quite a bit in my savings and a 401K. I guess I'll survive for a while." "You'll do more than survive, Sweetheart. The room and board here is next to nothin'. We have a big tank of gas around the back near the storage shed, so you don't have to worry about that. When you need some spendin' money, just ask me. As long as you don't have New York tastes, you don't have to worry about anythin'," he smiled. "I guess I will be okay, won't I," I smiled. "As long as you're with me, count on it." I think that little conversation did more to relax me than anything. I was going to be okay. In a big rush to get here, the little details and longer term were not on my mind. Now, as I had time to think ahead, I could imagine that I might want to find something to do with my time if I wasn't needed to help run the ranch. Sitting around doing nothing was not in the plan. I drove to town the next morning while Rance tended to his duties at the ranch. He'd said something about needing to catch up with both Charlie, the foreman, and his father. I wanted to wander around Trinidad at my own speed and see what there was to see. When I got back later that afternoon, I had accomplished quite a bit. I tested a Wells Fargo ATM and confirmed I had complete access to my accounts. I printed out a current statement and took a hundred dollars out of my checking account. I found a couple of nice frames for eight-by-ten photos and bought them. I had a small digital camera and brought it with me, taking some pictures of the beautifully restored old west town and the nearby Sangre de Cristo mountain range. I stopped in at a fabric shop and bought a couple of yards of a nice print to make some curtains, replacing the rather drab and uninteresting set that Rance had in our room. It wasn't a feminine pattern, so I was fairly confident Rance wouldn't object. I wasn't trying to take over or reform him, I just wanted to brighten our room up. I wandered into a women's clothing store and decided I'd better get some clothes more suitable to ranch life. Two pair of jeans, four cotton shirts, and a quilted vest. I put my purchases in the back of the Jeep and went looking for my final purchase. I intended to splurge. If I was going to live on a ranch and ride horses, I needed a good pair of riding boots. I have a wide foot (the better to paddle with), and finding a comfortable fit was going to be a challenge. But I had luck on my side. The woman who looked after me knew exactly what to suggest, and in the next fifteen minutes had five pair of boots for me to try on. In the end, I chose a beautiful tan inlaid pair that I could wear with anything. And ... they fit like a glove. Speaking of which, she recommended a pair of leather gloves to protect my hands. I thanked her for the suggestion. I had never in my life paid two hundred dollars for shoes or any other footwear, but it seemed like a bargain when I walked out of the store wearing them as if I'd had them for years. I felt like I was part of the environment now. If I was going to live here, I had to adapt both my clothes and my thinking. I hadn't picked up on it yet, but I'm sure the clerks who served me wondered who I was and where I was from. Despite my appearance, I wasn't talked down to or ignored at all. Apparently I was in a tolerant part of the world. Even in Salinas, spending this kind of money might raise eyebrows at some of the stores. Not here, though. If the credit card was accepted, that was good enough for them. Marion greeted me at the door as I struggled with my bags. She took several from me, not hesitating to peek inside to see what I had bought. Within a minute or so, I had most of my purchases spread out on the living room couch, explaining what the fabric was for and getting a big vote of approval for my choice. She was pleased that I had taken the time to explore the town and meet some of the merchants, and was surprised that no one had asked me where I was staying. It was a small town in most respects, and new faces were usually recognized almost right away. I told her about the woman who fitted me with my new boots and Marion knew her quite well. They were friends from high school, many years ago. Dinner that night was nothing like the previous times. There was plenty of table talk, especially about what was going on with the neighbors. Apparently, several of the ranchers had accepted cash payments from Dexter Prentice to sign over the exploration rights and future royalties to him. The payments were rumored to be in the one hundred thousand dollar range. To many of the small ranchers, that was lot of money up front. It was more enticing than hoping for future royalties that may or may not be forthcoming. As I listened to Angus and Rance talk, I realized just how deep their feelings for this place really were. While their finances were stretched pretty tightly, they had never missed a payment on their line of credit. They had paid the minimum more than a couple of times, but had never defaulted. It was like that for most of the other cattle ranchers. Raising cattle, feeding them, getting them to market once or twice a year at most, hoping for a decent price at auction to pay off the debts and then, start all over again. It must be in the blood, I thought. There was no reward at the end of the rainbow. Not any more. They could do well, but never be rich. It was a way of life that they fiercely protected. I didn't totally understand it, but I could certainly understand the passion that they felt for the land and the way of life. I began to settle into a routine as the days passed. I was happy because Rance was happy. I had gone into town to scout out the computer shops and see what services were offered and try and find an opportunity for myself. I would prefer to work out of the ranch, but that wasn't essential. The shop people were friendly, but at first there didn't appear to be any obvious gaps in the service. Qwest had a high speed internet service, as well as DirecTV satellite service like we had at the ranch. As I became more familiar with Trinidad, I realized it was a small town after all. Even though it was designated a city, and it had all the services that most cities had, it really wasn't that big. I had to reset my thinking about my new home. Its population was creeping upward toward 10,000 people. In contrast, Salinas had a population of over 150,000, and that was the basis of my comparison. Whatever the size, I liked what I saw of Trinidad. I had a good feeling about this place. I was sure Rance and I could be happy here. I still wanted to contribute something to the household. I needed a job of some kind. I thought about it for a while, then put an ad in the local paper, The Chronicle-News. They had been around since 1877 serving the surrounding area, including northern New Mexico. It took me little time to come up with a simple advertisement that I could run two times a week for the next month. Computer Specialist available for consulting on networking, database development, security, home and business applications, etc. Contact J. Sanchez at cardinalswim06@qwest.com or call 719 555 0404. Visit our website at CardinalTechnology@CardTechServ.com I had easily found a free template at a website service provider and developed one extolling my skills and experience. I may have embellished it a bit, but not too much. In a couple of hours, Cardinal Technology Services was in business. I had permission to use the ranch home phone number temporarily. I didn't expect to be overwhelmed by calls. Angus had a separate line which he used for business only, so I wouldn't be interfering with that. In the meantime, I printed up a hundred copies of a small flyer advertising my services. I was hoping the computer shops would agree to pass them out if they had someone asking about specialist service. As far as I could tell, I wouldn't be competing with their services. I'd spent a bit of time talking to the four computer shop managers to get a feel for what was needed in the community. They had asked me a few questions about my qualifications and were suitably impressed with my Stanford and Kleinhauser credentials. I also let them know I was staying at the 3C Ranch with the Camerons. That seemed to generate some interest with them as well. I was surprised when the first call inquiring about my services came in early the following week. A Mr. Ryan Wishart had been referred to me by one of the small stores that I had visited. He was building a new house and wanted to set up a fairly sophisticated network between the house and his office. It required a number of protections; firewalls and encryption. He was vague about the reason, but I was interested in discussing it with him and we agreed to meet the next morning. "Do you know a Ryan Wishart, Marion?" "Yes, I do. He runs a home publishing business. He's also involved in the sex-change business. He's lived here for about ten years now, I think." "Sex-change business?" Marion laughed. "Yes. Trinidad has developed quite a reputation for bein' the Mecca for sex-change operations. Not somethin' you'd expect, is it? It's our only real claim to fame these days." "I never would have guessed. Gives me the creeps, actually," I admitted. "Well, it's been goin' on for quite a long time now. We've gotten used to it, I suppose." "Mr. Wishart wants to talk to me about setting up a network and security systems in the new house he's building." "Oh, that would be that big new house just on the other side of the rise headin' into town. Looks like it's goin' to be a real palace if size means anythin'." "Should I be careful around him?" I asked. "Oh, I don't think you need to worry. Everyone around here knows him. He seems like a nice fellow, despite the business he's in. Anyway, his wife would kill him if he didn't behave. She must be twice his size," Marion laughed again. "Good to know." I felt a little more confident with that comment. I met Ryan Wishart at his office in Trinidad at nine the next morning. He wasn't what I expected; a small man, impeccably dressed in a suit and tie. Our meeting lasted less than an hour as he explained what he wanted. "I'm in a very sensitive business, Ms. Sanchez. I need to protect the anonymity of my clients at all costs. I want to set up a system I can access from both my home and my office without fear of being hacked. Is that possible, and if so, can you help me accomplish that?" "Well, I can set you up with the latest in firewalls and other security programs, but no one can guarantee you'll be protected from a determined hacker. Just ask our federal government. I can make sure you get all the latest updates as a further protection. So that you know, I worked at Kleinhauser in some very sensitive areas. I had a full security clearance which you can check with them." "That's very comforting. Please include that information in your proposal." From there on it was attention to the details and just what type of security would be appropriate. Until the very end, the subject of cost wasn't even raised. "My fee is forty dollars an hour, plus expenses. I will also need to find an installer that we can trust and his costs will be additional. Is that agreeable?" "Yes ... indeed, I expected it would be costly, but it's that important and I can't afford to scrimp. Perhaps you can put all this down in your proposal and we can get started," he said. And that quickly, I had my first client. It would be an interesting project, but my main concern was finding an installer that could be trusted. I thought Rance could help me there. "Guess what!" I shouted as I bounced into the house. "I have my first customer. Cardinal Technology Services is in business!" I got a big hug, a kiss, and a "good goin'" from Rance. "Just one catch. I need to find an installer that can do the work and not be at risk to talk about the client. Any suggestions?" "Not off the top of my head, but let me think about it. I'm sure we can come up with someone," he said confidently. I spent a couple of hours in front of the computer typing up the proposal for Mr. Wishart, leaving out the name of the installer for the time being. I was about to e-mail it to the client when Rance walked in and placed a business card down in front of me. "You should contact this fellow, Julie. He does work for all sorts of people includin' the government. All his people are bonded, so you'd be safe with them." "Great! Thank you. I'll call him in the morning." I looked at the card and saw that the address was Fort Worth, Texas. Not that far away, luckily. That night, lying in bed, just holding hands quietly in the dark, I asked Rance a question I should have asked him earlier. "How do you feel about me starting my own business?" "Fine. I know you don't want to sit around here all day doin' nothin'. As long as it doesn't take all your time up and deprive me from bein' with you, I'm okay with it." "Good. I'm sorry I didn't ask you first. I should have. I seem to be taking a lot for granted. I'm not used to the idea that I'm going to be Mrs. Rance Cameron someday." "Now that's a first," he said rolling towards me. "That's the first time you told me that you'd marry me." "No it isn't. I've told you I would before now." "Nope. You've never said no, but even when I put that little ring on your finger, I don't remember hearin' a yes." "Really?" "Really. So, if I ask you again, Julianna Maria Sanchez, will you marry me ...?" "Yes, Rance Ian Cameron, I will marry you. Just pick the date and I'll be there," I whispered as I held him closely. "Tomorrow would be good, but I have a feelin' I'd better talk to Mom about this." "Good thinking," I chuckled. "I don't think it will come as any surprise. After all, you've been introducing me as your fiancée for a while now." "Yeah ... well ... I figured if I said it often enough, you'd get used to the idea. Looks like it worked." "I shouldn't tell you this, but it worked the first time you asked me. I just had to get my head around the idea that the man I lusted after really wanted me. These last few weeks have convinced me you're serious. So ... there's nothing to hold me back." "What about us goin' to town and pickin' out a ring?" "No!" I said quickly. "I have the ring I want. I know it isn't big, or fancy, or expensive, but it's very personal. It's a part of this family, and I want to wear it always." "I think you'll make Mom and Dad pretty proud and happy when you tell them that. I know you make me proud just sayin' you'll marry me. I don't know how things could get better than this?" "Well, there is one way." "What?" "I'm sure they expect to become grandparents. You have a duty to perpetuate the Cameron name if possible." "Yeah ... that would be great, wouldn't it? When do you think you'll be ready?" "About six hours after we're married," I giggled. "That sounds right and proper, Mrs. Cameron." "Not yet ... but soon," I whispered, nuzzling into his chest. I dropped the proposal off at Ryan Wishart's office the next morning, letting him know I had been in contact with a firm that could handle the installation with the utmost discretion. They too had security clearance with the federal government. He was satisfied when I told him their man would be out to estimate the job and give him a firm quotation. The flyers seemed to be working as I received another call from a potential client wanting to set up a database for his company. He was in the building materials distribution business and did work in several states, with a head office in Pueblo and three small warehouses outside of Colorado. How he chose me to contact I wasn't sure until I went to the office of Darren Fielder at Mountain Building Supplies. Several pictures of him and other men were prominent, all of them wearing Army camouflage. "I understand you're engaged to Rance Cameron," he said after our introductions. "Congratulations. He's quite a guy." "Thank you. I think so too. Did you serve with him?" "No ... but if you were in Kandahar in 2005, you knew about Rance. He pretty much made himself a legend in a matter of a week," the man smiled. "How did you hear about me?" "I didn't ... not directly. I'd been moaning about getting our business better organized and one of my sales guys brought in a flyer from a place that was fixing his laptop. Apparently, you made an impression on the owner, and he mentioned it to my guy. I called the fellow to talk to him and that's when I found out you were living out at the Cameron ranch." "I'll have to remember to thank my friend at the store. Do you have his name?" I'm Not Lisa Ch. 07-09 "Sure," he said, looking through some papers. "Tanner ... David Tanner at Valley Computers." "Great. I'll be sure to thank him. In the meantime, we should talk about what you need done." We spent a couple of hours going over what was, to my mind, a primitive set of inventory and sales records. There was some computerization, but none of if was coordinated or linked. He needed more than just a database. He needed a system. When we finished reviewing what he was trying to accomplish, I gave him the bad news. "Darren, this isn't a small problem. This is a major challenge. To get what you want, all of these pieces have to work together. Sales, accounting, inventory, purchasing; the whole works. Fortunately, most of this can be bought off the shelf. You don't need an exotic custom-built system, but you do need a complete one that can be updated. "I'll write up a proposal with software costs included, but I have to tell you there will be additional costs to bring your people on line. Learning is always the most demanding and time consuming part. It never goes smoothly, but if we do it right, we can reduce the pain fairly substantially. You'll need a trainer and someone to administer the system." "That has the sound of something really expensive," he said, looking unhappy. "It can be if it's not the right system and it isn't implemented properly. Your best cost is your first cost. Do it right the first time and you get the reward. Try and do it half-way, and your end cost is almost always far higher. Trust me, this I know. I've done this type of project in a private business a couple of years ago." "I think you must be the tenth person to tell me that. Now I have to decide which one to go with." "Well, as I said, you don't need a customized design. There are several off-the-shelf systems for business that are integrated and expandable. I don't think that's where the cost will be. Training will be the unknown. In any event, I'll make sure my quote spells out the software costs, any hardware required, and if I'm able, I'll recommend someone for implementation. You should look internally for someone to ramrod the project, no matter which proposal you chose. Make sure you select a person who really wants to do it, not someone who gets stuck with it." "Good advice. I've got a nephew who is supposed to be a hotshot in computers. I'll talk to him after I get all the proposals together. He's pretty level-headed and has a degree something like yours from Colorado Tech here in Pueblo. Maybe you should talk to him. I don't want to put him in over his head." "Sure. I'd be happy to. If he's got the qualifications and he's someone you know and trust, that might make your job a lot easier," I said optimistically. "I'll have him call you. He's working at a shop here in town, but I know he wants to find something more along the lines of what he studied." We parted with me being on a high from getting an opportunity at what would be a fairly large project. Besides their headquarters in Pueblo, they had satellite operations at Santa Fe in New Mexico, Colby across in Kansas, and up north in Cheyenne, Wyoming. The satellites were generally three man operations with a pair of guys to load and unload, as well as a driver for the one on-site truck. Hand-written orders were faxed to the branch and load sheets were faxed back to the main office. Simple, but not free of problems. I was really looking forward to this proposal. When I got back to the ranch, I could tell something had happened in my absence. Marion was in the kitchen and I could hear Rance and his father in the office. I walked into the kitchen. "What's up?" I asked her. "We had a visit from Dexter Prentice. He wants to buy the rights to the coal gas that might be on the ranch. He offered a lot of money, but Rance and his father don't want to take it. Rance says he doesn't trust Dexter, and I can't say I blame him. Several of the people in town have had dealin's with him and say they got taken in one way or another. Nothin' illegal I guess, but left them with a bad feelin' about doin' business with him. I'm sure Rance will tell you all about it." I decided to let Rance and Angus have their private discussion. In the meantime, I could peel some potatoes and carrots for the supper. Marion and I had developed a routine in the kitchen that kept us from getting in each other's way. It was something I had learned as a young girl in our home and didn't forget. I was also watching her prepare meals, trying to learn what and why she was doing what she was doing. Marion wasn't a fancy cook, but she was a good one. Our evening meal was quiet that night. It seemed Rance and his father had a lot on their minds and they were trying to decide what to do. We made a bit of small talk about my trip to Pueblo, but I could see they were both distracted. I could tell him about my new project at another time. After supper, Rance and his father adjourned to the office once more while Marion and I did the dishes. I set up my laptop on the dining room table and began to outline the proposal for Darren Fielder. I'd only just got started when the phone rang. Marion answered it, then turned to me. "It's for you. Someone named Stuart Fielder." It took me a moment to connect the dots, then I smiled and nodded as I walked to the phone. "Hello, Mr. Fielder." "Hi. My uncle suggested I call you. He's getting ready to put in a proper computer system at long last. He said it was something you and I should talk about." "Yes. I met with your uncle this morning. We discussed a complete system to bring him up to date. I asked him if he knew anyone in his company that could supervise the installation and even maybe teach the employees how to use it. He said you had a degree at Colorado Tech." "Yes. I graduated last year in computer science. I've been looking for a meaningful job, but so far no luck. What kind of system are you proposing for him?" "Off the shelf, upgradable, comprehensive business set. It's almost starting from scratch from what I can see." "No doubt about it. I think I'm the one who put the bug in his ear about getting something that was at least developed in this century. I couldn't believe how far out of touch they were," he said. "Well, it looks like it's caught up to him now. There are about a dozen different software vendors that could qualify. It's a matter of finding the right one that will be around when the dust settles and it's time for an upgrade or expansion." "No kidding," he said. "That evaluation will be tough. A lot of these people make big promises, but in the end, you're constantly messing with their system to make it do what you want. My uncle's business is pretty simple, really. They buy stuff and then they sell it. Sometimes it comes into inventory, and sometimes it goes directly to the customer. That's about it." "Yes," I agreed. "That's why I think simple is better, but we need a system that's reliable and proven too. I'm leaning toward something like Praxis has, or maybe ConFlex," I tested, wondering if he was familiar with them. "Praxis would be good. They're solid as far as I can tell. I don't have any experience with ConFlex, but maybe we can find someone who does." "Yes. When I approach a new vendor, I always ask for references. Anyway, sounds like we agree on what your uncle needs. What about the implementation and training. Do you think you might be interested in that?" "As a long term thing, no. I'd like to be the system administrator if I can handle it. As far as training goes, I might have a problem. I'm far more experienced than the average user, so it's going to be hard to relate to their understanding of what's going on. I guess I'd have to try it to find out." "Well, that's an honest answer. But, it does sound like you're interested and I'm going to suggest that if I'm awarded the contract, I'd want you to be included as an assistant and in training to be the administrator. Do you have a problem with that?" "Not at all. Hell, that's more than I could expect. No one else has even talked to me besides you. I know Uncle Darren has talked to several vendors, but I don't know any more than that. I hope you get this contract. It could be great for both of us, as well as his business." "Okay, Stuart. Thanks for calling and I'll stay in touch with you. Leave me your phone number and e-mail address. I'll let you know what I decide before I make the proposal. If you see anything that bothers you, say so. I don't know everything about the business and I don't want to make a mistake." "Great," he said enthusiastically. I got his phone number and e-mail address before we hung up. I was about to turn around and tell Marion about the call when I felt to big, warm hands on my shoulders. I jumped for a second before realizing it was Rance. "You sound like you've been busy," he said in his low growl. "Yes. That was the nephew of one of your old soldier mates in Afghanistan. I'm putting a proposal together for a complete business system. It could be a really big step for me," I said, turning to him. "Old soldier mate?" "Did you know a Darren Fielder?" "No ... but that's not surprisin'. There were three thousand of us in that one district. I barely knew all the men in my platoon. Anyway, you sound excited about what's happenin'." "Well, it isn't mine yet, but I'm hopeful. I think I know the way I want to go with this, and on top of that his nephew is very supportive and wants to help. I feel like I'm heading in the right direction." "Well, that's good. I'm happy for you," he smiled genuinely. "I hear Dexter Prentice paid you a visit." "Yeah. He came out to make us an offer we couldn't refuse. Unfortunately for him, we did refuse it." "How'd he take it?" "Not very well. He suggested we'd regret turnin' him down. Didn't sound like he was talkin' about just the money, either. Not sure what to expect from him, but I'm guessin' we'll know soon enough." "What can he do?" "Nothin' that Dad or I can think of. It's up to us to decide what to do about the coal-gas leases. I just wish we had a better handle on what the likelihood of them comin' through was. I'd hate to find out we turned down two hundred thousand dollars cash money for nothin' in return. It's just a matter that we don't trust that man." I thought for a moment on what Rance had said. "Didn't you tell me that he offered the other ranchers about one hundred thousand?" "Yeah. That's been botherin' me too. Why so much for ours? What does he know that we don't know?" "Can you go directly to the coal-gas company and find out?" "I'm tryin' that. They're bein' pretty tight-lipped. Don't want to weaken their hand too much, I guess. Right now, we're playin' poker, but we don't know if we've seen all the cards. Guess we'll find out soon enough." I knew the ranch finances were stretched at this time of year. It operated on a line of credit that had been established at the local bank many years ago. The cattle wouldn't be ready for market until the end of summer when they were at their prime. It would be September or even October before any money would be coming in from the sales. It was late June now and another draw would be made in July or early August to tide the ranch over until the sales. "Rance, I have some money that's doing nothing right now. I can contribute to the expenses if you need anything." "I know that, Sweetheart. But we're not hurtin' that much. You need that money to get your business started. We're goin' to be fine. It's just a matter of waitin' until the cattle are ready for market at their top weight. That's how we get paid. Dexter has just thrown some confusion into the mix. Don't you start worryin' about it, hear me." "All right," I agreed reluctantly. I had a feeling there was more to the story than this, but I would just have to wait and see how everything played out in the next while. Chapter 9 Tricky Business The next two months seemed to fly by. The Wishart project went quicker and easier than I expected and he was very pleased that it cost a lot less than he expected. I put a lot of effort into making sure it went well and that he would be satisfied with my efforts. That paid off in one way; I had a satisfied customer. In another way, I think I undervalued my services. When I calculated my actual hours and divided them into my fee, I was really working for twenty dollars an hour. Not as much as I was hoping for. I'd have to be more careful in the future. The good news was that I received the contract for Mountain Building Supplies and I contacted Stuart Fielder right away. He was excited to join me on the project and turned in his notice at the computer shop. Darren made it clear that he was counting on Stuart's ability to manage the system once it was up and running. I made no promises about his training ability. After all, he was very young and inexperienced. We (Stuart and I) had chosen the Praxis system for the software after much discussion. We then handed out tender applications for hardware to several of the computer suppliers in Pueblo, and of course, Valley Computers in Trinidad. I wanted David Tanner to know I was grateful for his initial referral. I was hoping it would pay dividends in the future. One of our potential hardware suppliers recommended a man for training that they thought would be ideal. He was a retired teacher who had a good working knowledge of computers. Stuart and I interviewed him and decided he would be good at what we needed. Very even-tempered, used to teaching older students, and patient. By the middle of August, the project was well underway and I was very pleased with Stuart's input and effort. Since it was all in the family, Darren was equally happy that things were going well. As it turned out, we weren't going to be breaking the bank with this implementation. Our bid was easily the lowest of the five bidders, and the only one that included the development of a system administrator who just happened to be the boss's nephew. I had been commuting to Pueblo almost daily to stay on top of the project. I made a trip to Cheyenne with Stuart to set up the first satellite station, then looked after the Santa Fe installation myself. Stuart would do the Colby installation and training. The system was that simple that we produced a laminated card with operating instructions for each of the satellites. We made several to make sure they didn't accidentally disappear. Our instructor/trainer, Edward Meehan, was just what the doctor ordered. He was calm, easygoing, didn't ruffle any feathers, and seemed to get along with everyone. Most importantly, he was getting the message across to the people who were using the system. We patted ourselves on the back for being smart enough to hire him. I would keep him in mind for future jobs if the need arose. It was a Wednesday evening when I pulled up to the ranch house after a long, tiring day in Pueblo. I wouldn't miss that trip when the project was completed. I was getting to know every inch of I-25 between the two cities. When I walked into the house, I couldn't hear anything going on in the kitchen. That was unusual. Perhaps someone had decided to use the barbeque tonight. I walked out on the back deck and found Marion, Angus, and Rance all sitting around the circular table, nursing a drink. There wasn't any conversation going on. "Hi, everybody," I said in greeting. "Hi, Julie," Marion replied quietly. Rance and Angus just sat and stared at their drinks. That was definitely not normal. "So ... what's happening?" "We had a phone call from Melvin Crenshaw, our bank manager," Rance rumbled. "He's decided we aren't a good credit risk any more and is callin' in our line of credit. We have until our next payment to clean it off his books." "Oh ... oh my. When is the next payment due?" "Four days from now. Three if you're countin' bankin' days," Angus snarled. "What can we do? What will happen if we don't make the payment?" I asked. "Crenshaw made it plain that if we were in default, he would take action against the ranch. There's a grace period, but he could make our life very difficult and make it hard for us to get another line of credit at another bank," Marion explained. "That son-of-a-bitch Prentice put him up to this," Angus swore. "It's got his fingerprints all over it. It's his way of pressurin' us to sell him the rights to the coal-gas." "You want to bet the price he's willin' to give us for those rights has dropped a whole hell-of-a-lot?" Rance suggested. "This is a classic squeeze play, and I'll be damned if I'm goin' to let him get away with it." "What can we do?" I asked, worried that this looked very bad. "I've got an ace up my sleeve that Dexter doesn't know anythin' about," Rance replied. "I'm just wonderin' whether to play it." "What are you thinking, Rance," I asked again. "We need about forty thousand dollars to get us through to the sales," Angus said. "That will pay off the outstandin' line-of-credit and look after our expenses until we get paid for our cattle. In the meantime, we can get ourselves set up with another bank and hopefully establish a line of credit with them." "So, where do we find the forty-thousand?" I asked. "I've got more than ten thousand in my savings, plus my 401K. I can help." "Sweetheart, that's wonderful and I'm grateful that you want to help, but I can't let you do that even if we can't find the whole amount," Rance said kindly. "I've got another idea that I'm reluctant to use, but we may just have to." "Spit it out, Son," Angus said. "Tim is now a multi-millionaire. I'm pretty sure he'd loan us some money on the promise that we'd pay it back in a month or two. I hate to do it, but I can't let that bastard Prentice mess with us like this. If Crenshaw badmouths us around the town, we could have a hell of a time gettin' a new line of credit." "Let's deal with Crenshaw and Prentice after we get this loan thing looked after," Marion said. She got a nod from both men almost immediately. Thursday morning Rance called Tim on his private line. He explained what was happening and how it could affect the future of the ranch. I could only hear one side of the conversation, but I got the impression Tim was very unhappy with how his friend was being treated. "I appreciate your being willin' to help, Tim," Rance said. "You know I'm good for it as soon as the cattle are sold." I heard the sound of Tim's voice on the phone, but couldn't make out what he was saying until Rance put him on speakerphone. "You there, Julie?" I heard the familiar voice. "Yes, Tim." "You still have the same bank account as when you worked here?" "Yes, I do." "Good. Here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to wire fifty thousand dollars to that account this morning. I want you to get a certified check for exactly what the outstanding is on the line of credit and march into that assholes office and slam it on his desk. Then, close out all the accounts in that branch. I'll get on the phone and find you someone you can trust. Now ... are there any questions." The tone of his voice suggested there shouldn't be any. "Thank you, Tim," Rance said softly. I'll make sure you don't regret this. But fifty thousand is more than we need. We just need forty." "Always good to have a contingency, Rance. Besides, if they want that lease that bad, I suspect they know more than they're telling about what's at stake. Hang tough, my friend." "I will, Tim. And thank you from my whole family. This means a lot to us." "I know that, man. I'm just happy that you came to me for help. I feel good about that." "Yeah ... well ... thanks again. I'll keep in touch." We hung up shortly after that. I'm Not Lisa Ch. 07-09 I was trembling in anticipation when Rance pushed Angus into the Central Bank of Trinidad on Friday morning. Marion and I accompanied them, of course. This was a family affair, even if I wasn't yet family. I wasn't prepared for what happened next as we marched up to the reception desk. "Angus Cameron to see Melvin Crenshaw," he announced loudly. "I'm sorry sir, Mr. Crenshaw is busy. Do you have an appointment?" "Now you listen to me, young lady," Angus continued in a voice that couldn't possibly go unheard in the bank. "You get that fat-assed president of yours out here now. I've got a check for him and once he has it in his slimy little hands, I'm going to close out every account we have in this bank and never do business here again. Do I make myself clear?" He was almost shouting at the end of his tirade. The young woman was trembling as she picked up the phone and called Crenshaw's office. "Mr. Crenshaw, there's a Mr. Cameron out here with a check for you. He insists on giving it to you personally." I had to admire the young woman. She hadn't lost her cool and gave Crenshaw a reason to want to come out and face the Camerons. In less than a minute, a very fat man in an ill-fitting three piece suit emerged from the corner office and strode red-faced toward us. "What do you want, Angus? I told you what was going to happen. Your credit is no good here any more," he blustered. "Here's your god-damned check for the outstandin' amount on our line of credit," Angus shouted back at him. "Now, I want every trace that me and my family ever did business in this bank erased, so I'm closing out our other accounts and taking them elsewhere." "Where did you get this money?" the fat man stammered. "None of your god-damned business, Crenshaw. That's a certified check drawn on the Wells Fargo Bank. Are you goin' to accept that and clear out our accounts?" Crenshaw looked at the check, then at us, then back at the check. "I'll have to confirm that this is the correct amount," he grumbled, turning and walking back to a desk in the rear of the building. I saw the man he talked to look something up on his computer, look at the check, then nod at Crenshaw. The fat man was turning redder by the moment. "Very well, Cameron. We're though with you it seems. Don't come back here looking for credit any time in the future." "Let me give you a word of warnin', Mr. Crenshaw," Rance said in a low voice that spoke of deadly peril. "Don't you dare badmouth my family to anyone in this town or anywhere else ... or I'll come lookin' for you. Do you understand me?" "You can't threaten me," he attempted in a pathetic version of bluster. "It's a warnin', fat man. And tell your pal Dexter, that his plan didn't work. I'll be lookin' for him too if anythin' untoward happens. Make sure you understand that." I'd never heard quite the menace in a man's voice like the words that Rance spoke. It gave me chills. I began to understand how the Stoneman came about. When I looked around, I could see several people staring at us, and the bank seemed unusually quiet. I was happy to follow Angus, Rance, and Marion out of the bank. I almost expected to hear shots as we left. We sat in the truck, catching our breath. Angus was now able to bend his leg and sit up front. Marion and I were in the back. "I felt like I was in some kind of movie," I said at length. "I'm sorry about the language," Angus said quietly. "I pretty much lost my temper in there. I'm not proud of that." "Well ... I didn't do any better," Rance admitted. I could hear something rumbling beside me and it was Marion. She was making a vain attempt to stop from laughing, and when it came, it came big-time. I thought she was going to have a fit laughing as hard as she was. Tears streamed down her face as she struggled to control herself. "What's so damned funny?" Angus snarled. "You," Marion finally managed. "You and your son. You sounded like somethin' out of a bad movie. That poor little man didn't know what to do or say when you went all macho on him." She was wiping her face with her hands as she tried to get ahold of herself. I saw the grin on Rance's face, then the same on Angus. I knew then that they'd put on an act for the poor man, but I couldn't blame them. He was just a pawn in Prentice's scheme, and he'd been caught. Better than that, it had been a public humiliation that brought him down. It couldn't have been any better, I thought. We headed down to the local steak house to celebrate our vanquishing of The Central Bank of Trinidad. Rance phoned Tim to tell him how it went down and how much the whole family had enjoyed the experience. I began to recognize the sense of relief that the three of them felt. The ranch had been at risk and they couldn't allow it to be taken from them. I was marrying into a way of life that I was only just beginning to understand. Just before lunch Monday morning, Tim called Rance back and they spoke for several minutes. Rance was making some notes, so I assumed it was about where we would arrange the future financing of the ranch. I heard Rance chuckle a couple of times, so I knew there wasn't any more bad news coming. When he hung up, we walked into the kitchen. "That was Tim. He's sayin' we can get the financin' we need at Valley Savings and Loan. They are small, but well financed and a FDIC member. We don't need to worry about them bein' around for the long haul. He's contacted the principals and told them to expect a call from us." "That friend of yours is somethin' else," Angus said, shaking his head. "Is there anythin' he can't do?" "Yeah ... I'm sure there is, but in this case, he's done everythin' we could ever hope for. The people we're supposed to see are Ronald Staley and Sam Velasquez. Staley is the president and Velasquez is the vice-president. He would like all of us to be there when it's convenient." "Sounds good to me," Angus said nodding. "Why don't I phone after lunch and see if I can get an appointment fairly soon?" Rance suggested. It met with unanimous agreement. I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised that Rance was granted an appointment at ten the next morning; Tuesday. We would meet in their board room and all four of us were expected to attend. "I guess Tim did a number on them," Rance chuckled. "They seemed happy to meet with us. Maybe we'll know more tomorrow, but for today, I'm just happy things are movin' in the right direction." "I'd like to meet Tim some day, Rance," Angus said. "Do you suppose he'd come down here?" "I wouldn't be surprised. Maybe when all this money thing is settled, we can invite him down for a weekend or somethin'. He has his own plane, so he can be here in three or four hours. His wife would probably be along as well." "Well, considerin' all he's done for us, I reckon we can show him a good time and thank him for all his help." "I think that's a fine idea," Marion said. When the four of us trooped into the modern, one story building on the north edge of town, we were immediately welcomed by a young woman receptionist. When we identified ourselves, she stood and led us to a brightly lit room near the entrance. She pointed out the coffee machine and supplies, along with a tray of pastries that looked very inviting. She left us, but left the door open. The table was large enough for at least ten people, so we wouldn't be crowded. The chairs were modern, adjustable for height, and very comfortable. I was impressed with how bright and clean everything was. For whatever reason, it gave me a feeling of confidence that this would be a good place to do business. I sat beside Marion, while Rance and Angus were looking at some items posted on the bulletin board on the far wall. We were only there for three or four minutes when two men walked into the room. "Good morning," the elder man said genially. "I'm Ronald Staley, but most people call me Ron. This is Sam Velasquez, my right arm. Welcome to Valley Savings and Loan. Please make yourselves comfortable. If you'd like a coffee or a pastry, please feel free to help yourselves at any time. I can assure you they were baked fresh this morning." "Thank you," Angus replied. "And thank you for seein' us on such short notice. I'm Angus Cameron, my wife Marion, my future daughter Julie Sanchez, and my son Rance," he said gesturing toward each of us in turn. "I'm very pleased to meet you," Staley smiled. "I understand you are looking for a new firm to look after your family and business finances. I hope you find what you are looking for here at Valley Savings and Loan. Why don't we spend a few minutes getting to know each other? I'll tell you about Valley S & L, and you can tell me about the Camerons and your ranch." It was that easy. I could see by the look in Rance and Angus's faces that they were comfortable and attentive. Both Staley and Velasquez went over the short history of their institution, including the acquisition of several other small S & L's. They emphasized the soundness of their institution and care with which they handled their clients' money. Angus spent a few minutes giving them the history of the 3C, going back into the late 19th Century when the ranch was originally founded. He stressed that they had been a customer of the Central Bank since its inception in 1905, never having defaulted on any loan. It was a point of pride with Angus that wasn't lost on either banker. "That's pretty much what we've been told, Mr. Cameron. Your ranch is an important part of the history of the Purgatoire Valley, and your name is pretty much golden in this city. Can you tell me a little more about why you're looking for a new place to do business?" Rance covered the basics of the Prentice-Crenshaw strategy, noting that while they intended to discuss the possibility of exploration on their land with CoalMeth, they wanted no part of doing business with Dexter Prentice. To the Camerons, it was transparent that Melvin Crenshaw had called in their line of credit for no identifiable reason, and they were certain it was at the request of Prentice. As Rance identified it, it was a pressure play to force them to settle on the coal gas rights offer by Prentice since they knew they couldn't take the ranch from them, even if it was in temporary default on the loan. The state had a provision to protect them from that. As Rance told the story, I could see the stern, but focused looks on the two men as they listened. An occasional nod told me they weren't in dispute with Rance's version of the facts. I had the feeling that they knew more than they were letting on at this point. "Would you be uncomfortable if I called you by your first names?" a smiling Ron Staley asked. "No ... in fact, I'd be more comfortable if you did," Angus quickly replied. "Very well then, please feel free to use ours as well." He paused for a moment, then continued. "Tim Kleinhauser called me yesterday to ask me to talk to you about setting up a line of credit. I was happy to do so, but not just because Tim called me. I know the Cameron name in this valley is good. I know if you called out Melvin Crenshaw in front of his staff and customers you had a darn good reason to do so. Now that you've explained what happened, I can see why. I don't think I'd have acted any differently under the same circumstances. So let's get that out of the way and talk business," he smiled. "How do you know Tim?" Rance asked. "He and I belong to the Young Presidents Club," Sam Velasquez said quietly. It was the first time he had spoken. "I was president of a small savings and loan in Coeur d' Alene, Idaho. I'd inherited it when my father died prematurely. I really wasn't ready for the job, and when Ron approached me about putting a number of small S & L's together to make them stronger, I was quick to accept. I'm here in Trinidad to learn." "It's a bit more than that," Ron said with a smile. "He's my protégé, and when I retire in the next five years, he'll be president in my place. It's important that Sam gets to know our key customers, so that's why he's here today." As I listened to the men talk, I got the distinct impression that the decision was already made and that this meeting was a way of cementing the relationship, even before it was formalized. I wondered just what hand Tim might have had in all this. It was so much more relaxed and informal that I had expected. When I looked up at the clock, it was almost eleven, and the discussion had become technical. The world of finance was not my strong point. I had lost the thread a few minutes earlier, and I'm sure Marion had before that. "I wonder, gentlemen, if Marion and I could be excused for a few minutes. I'm afraid this conversation is beyond my experience, and I think we could use some fresh air. I hope you aren't offended," I offered. "No, of course not," Ron said immediately. "I've arrange for lunch to be brought in at noon. Why don't you rejoin the meeting then? I'm sure we'll have gotten the nitty-gritty out of the way by then." "Thank you," Marion said on our behalf. "We'll return at noon." The men stood and Marion and I left the room, walking to the reception desk. I told the young woman that we'd be back before noon, and she nodded and made a note. "I hope you feel as good as I do about that meeting," I said. "Yes. The atmosphere is so different than it ever was with the other bank. Much less formal and more friendly. They don't act like they're doin' us a favor just talkin' to us. I never did like that Melvin Crenshaw. He was the original stuffed shirt." "Well, if I'm reading it right, I'd say our money problems are going to be over with, at least for the time being. In the meantime, we've got about forty-five minutes to shop. Let's make the most of it," I chuckled. When we returned to the board room, the men were gathered around the bulletin board looking at a map that had been pinned up over the items that were already on it. "Ah, welcome back, ladies," Sam said. "We were just going over this geological map of the area and showing the men where the exploration zones for coal gas are located." We stepped a little closer and I could see areas shaded in purple that ringed the southern and western part of the valley. One of the larger areas was what appeared to be on the southern edge of the 3C. "Does that imply that the field is likely bigger on our property that some of the others?" I asked. "That's exactly right, Julie," Sam replied. "That's probably the reason Prentice was so hot to get his hands on the rights. The chances are better there than anywhere else in the valley." "How did you get this map?" "When CoalMeth applied for their permits, they had to file on the prospects," Sam replied. "Freedom of Information Act got us the map and the document outlining the prospects. I'm pretty sure Prentice has a copy of it also, although I don't know that for sure." "It was that simple?" I asked. "Pretty much. I went after it when I started to have some of our ranch clients approach us about what Prentice was offering. I figured he wasn't doing this blind, and I was pretty sure he didn't have an 'in' with CoalMeth, so it was logical it was something he could get himself legally." He turned back to the map. "These red areas are ranches that Prentice approached and was able to buy the rights. There are four of them. The green areas are likely a poor bet, and as far as we know, Prentice hasn't approached any of them. The blue areas are our clients that have been approached but have turned him down. The purple, of course, is the 3C, the biggest and best bet of them all. I guess we can color it blue now," he grinned. "You sure as hell can," Angus said vehemently. "Sorry folks, guess I got a little carried away." "Understandable, Angus. No wonder if you think about what he tried to pull off," Ron said. At that point, the lunch arrived and two women carried in two platters of sandwiches and snacks, while the receptionist brought in a carton of soft drinks, milk, and juice. When the covers were removed, I was impressed with the quality of the food. "This is very nice, Ron and Sam. We weren't expectin' this," Marion said. "It's policy here, Marion. We don't keep our key clients tied up in a stuffy boardroom all morning and then let them go without at least feeding them," Ron said. "It's a very nice policy," Marion replied. As we sat around the table, enjoying the food, the conversation split up into two groups. Sam sat between Marion and me, and we talked about life on the ranch, his background and origin; mine as well. We had a lot in common, although Sam was a Washington State grad in Business. He was on the Cougar football team, but not a starter. We talked about the life of a student athlete and compared notes. Marion asked him about his family. His wife was from Coeur d' Alene, and their three children were born there. They'd only moved to Trinidad three years ago, but he assured me that his wife and children loved it here. They had no plans to move on, especially if he was going to become president of the company. I took a chance as asked him if his wife was Hispanic. He wasn't offended and said no, she was a local Idaho girl with a German heritage many years in the past. He must have guessed the reason for my question, because he said he'd never had a moment of discomfort here over his race. I knew he was telling me not to worry about it, and I also knew Marion understood the reason for my interest. The meeting was over and when the lunch was finished and our conversations petered out, Angus had some final words. "I'd like to thank you, Ron and Sam, for the welcome and hospitality you've shown my family. I think we're goin' to have a very good relationship, both business and personal. Once the paperwork is done, all our accounts, business and personal, will be in your care. I thank you for lookin' after our needs and I'm sure this association will be a long and prosperous one." He pushed back his chair and moved toward Sam, shaking his hand firmly, then to Ron, repeating the action. The rest of us stood and followed his lead. We had solved a very important problem and thwarted the actions of an unscrupulous man in Dexter Prentice. There were some suggestions that Mr. Melvin Crenshaw might be in some trouble for acting as he had, but I didn't hear all of that conversation and I would leave it to Rance or Angus to mention it. To Be Continued ted by ErikThread and DaveT with my thanks. Any errors are mine.