Promise Canyon
Page 14
She laughed at him, knowing he loved all the attention. "Yes, Your Majesty."
"But see, I don't want to be king of the town purse."
"Well, you will. As soon as you're faced with six hundred wannabe kings and queens trying to jump on your throne with some far-out ideas of how to spend that money. Speaking of money, Hope very cleverly never told anyone how much there was. I'm sure it was so that she wasn't overwhelmed with requests. Are you planning to tell?"
"Don't I have to? If it's the town's money?"
"I'd talk to a lawyer with estate experience about that. Hey--Erin Foley! She's an estate attorney and the family has that renovated cabin now. Plus she's hooked up to Aiden Riordan, who has family nearby, so they'll be spending enough time here to have a vested interest!" She leaned toward him. "Jack, don't tell what the bottom line is before you know whether you absolutely have to. People get very strange when they think they have money burning a hole in their pockets."
"But it's not their money!" Jack insisted.
"That's not going to matter," said Preacher, who had been pretty quiet until now. "Haven't you ever read about those Lotto winners whose lives are destroyed by their windfall?"
"You really think that could happen here?" Jack asked. "This is a good little town!"
"Goodness and opportunity don't always meet on level ground," Mel said.
Both Jack and Preacher straightened suddenly. "Whoa," Jack said. "Is that like from the Dalai Lama or something?"
"No, that's an original Melinda Sheridan. Or, you could try this one on for size, since I bet it fits you to a T. No good deed shall go unpunished." She took a last sip of her diet cola. "I gotta go. We have patients this afternoon. Good luck with this." She whirled off her stool and headed out the door.
Jack stared after her. "Why didn't Hope make her the custodian?"
"Executor and administrator," Preacher corrected. "Personally, I think Hope's watching and getting a big laugh out of it." And with that, Preacher went back to the kitchen and Jack was left alone.
Alone with one final thought: We still haven't decided what to do with Hope's ashes. Don't we have to scatter her ashes before we start spending her money?
He thought he heard a distant, gravelly laugh.
Jack struggled with his dilemma for a few days. He tried not to talk about it too much, but if the bar was quiet and someone he knew to be a trusted friend happened upon his path, he was susceptible to spilling his guts. But the last person he expected walked in the door--Luke Riordan.
"Hey, there!" Jack said. "I've hardly seen you since Brett was born!"
Luke stuck out his hand across the bar. "Shelby sprung me loose for a beer break. Since she started back to school, I have so much quality time with Brett I guess I'm getting a little cranky."
"That a fact?" Jack asked with a laugh. "I can relate to that." He served him up a cold beer. In addition to managing six rental cabins on the river, Luke was taking care of their two-month-old son while Shelby went to college. "Cabins busy right now?" Jack asked.
"About half-full. The summer people have pretty much stopped coming through, but fishing is picking up and come next month when hunting season opens, we're booked solid. When it's groups of men making the reservations I assume fishing or hunting."
"How can you handle all that? With the baby?"
"For right now, Shelby's uncle Walt sticks pretty close. Art's a great help," Luke said. Art was a man in his early thirties with Down syndrome who lived on their property and worked under their supervision. "But there are a lot of things that are just beyond him--anything up a ladder, paperwork or accounting, driving for supplies, you know. But so far, we're managing just fine." He took a drink of his beer and said, "Ahhhh. Not like I don't have cold beer at home, but I needed to get out. I feel like a nanny."
"How are your brothers getting along?" Jack asked.
"Let's see--the youngest, Patrick, is sitting alert on an aircraft carrier, but it's a short three-month mission. Aiden and Erin are planning a small wedding for the spring. Sean is up to his eyeballs in Air Command and Staff College--boy's probably going to be an Air Force general. Now doesn't that make you laugh? Sean, the biggest screw-off I know. I guess he can get serious where the Air Force is concerned. And the only one we don't hear that much from is Colin, but that's always been the case. He's a loner."
"What's Colin doing these days?"
Luke took another swig of beer. "Black Hawk helicopters out of Fort Benning, Georgia."
"Shouldn't he be about ready to retire?" Jack asked. "Isn't he about forty?"
"About right, and already over twenty years in the Army--but they're going to have to throw him out. He'll never go quietly. He loves that helicopter and it loves him."
Jack poured himself a cup of coffee. "I never understood you flyboys. I never even liked riding in choppers."
Luke laughed at him. "All the boys fly except Aiden, and look what Aiden ended up doing--ob-gyn? Come on, that's weird if you ask me."
Jack took a sip. "Now, I think that makes sense. More sense than going up in the air in some kind of strange whirly machine. So, Luke, you and Shelby coming to the town meeting?"
Luke thought a moment before answering. He took a small taste of his beer for courage. "Hey, I'm real sorry, Jack, but that sounds like about the most boring thing I can think of and my fun meter is already way, way down."
"Mel thinks I shouldn't do it at all. She thinks everyone will have diverging ideas."
"No offense, Jack, but if you get ten people with enough time on their hands for a boring town meeting, you'll be lucky."
"Think so? You should come, Luke. Maybe you'll have some ideas for the town."
"Want to know what my best idea is? Sleeping through the night, that's the best idea I can come up with. I want that baby in his own room and me and Shelby sleeping straight through."
"It'll come," Jack said. "He's only a couple of months old."
"Yeah, a couple of months with a tapeworm. Kid eats nonstop. And he has the biggest feet I've ever seen. If babies grow into their feet like German shepherds, he's gonna be eight feet tall." He finished his beer slowly. "I'd like to stay longer, but I'm afraid if I do, you'll talk me into that meeting by calling in some marker or something."
"If you don't participate," Jack said solemnly, "no one will ever elect you mayor."
Luke stood up, tossed a couple of bills on the bar and said, "That works for me. You take care now." And he got out of there before it went any further.
While walking across the parking lot from the bar to the church for the town meeting, Jack asked Mel if she'd mind taking notes, just to have something to reference if he wanted to review the suggestions of what to do with their inheritance from Hope. "Notes? Like minutes?" she asked.
"Totally unofficial--but I'd like some kind of record of what was said. I don't know why or how I'll use it, but... You know--just jot down a name and a suggestion. That kind of thing."
"I guess so. Um, Jack--please play your cards close to your chest on this. Don't tell too much too fast. People never knew what Hope had and she was a cagey old broad--I suspect there was a reason for it. No one knew her town better than she did."
"I think you're selling this little town short, Melinda. I've always found most everyone to be responsible. Cautious, even. And certainly generous."
"Uh-huh," she said.
"Look, there are already cars and trucks parked outside." Jack smiled. "We're going to get a good turnout!"
"Uh-huh."
"Um, Jack?" a man's voice said.
Jack turned to find himself face-to-face with Hugh Givens, local apple orchard owner. He stuck out his hand. "Hey, Hugh, how's it going, man?"
"Good. Excellent. Listen, could I just have a quick word with you before the meeting starts?"
"You have ideas, Hugh? Because I'd prefer it if you'd--"
"No, sir, a question. If I could have a second... Alone?"
Mel's eyebrows lifted in surprise that anyone would ever question her discretion. She was probably the best secret keeper in the town. But she took the hint. Jack handed her the little notebook he'd been carrying and watched her go inside.
"What's up?" he said to Hugh.
"Well, I'm assuming Hope had her money mostly invested, and tied up in that big old house and stuff. And I'm wondering--you planning to invest? Make sure that money for the town keeps making money?"
"I guess," Jack said with a shrug. "Why?"
"Well, I have a proposition. Could work out for both of us. Remember I built that room on the house? Well, rooms. One downstairs, one up, and a freestanding garage--more for farm equipment than trucks, really. Things were real skippy when I built on, you know? But I kinda got caught in the economic downturn with an adjustable second mortgage so I was just wondering--how do you feel about making a loan out of that money? I'd pay decent interest, of course. Just not insane interest, if you get my meaning. Could make the town money go a little further and save my butt."
"Aw, Hugh, I'm not a banker. Just an executor, that's all."
"Yeah, that means you can do pretty much whatever you want as long as you don't abuse the money, right? This ain't abuse! It's a good investment! No matter how bad things get, people still make apple cider and apple pie. And things are gonna swing back up. But that adjustable rate second could really kill me in the meantime."
"Hugh, I don't think Hope intended personal loans--"
"It's not exactly a loan. An investment! By the way, how much did she leave you?"
Jack was starting to doubt his wisdom on this matter. He put a strong hand on Hugh's shoulder. "She didn't leave me anything, Hugh. She left it to the town and put me in charge of making sure it's used responsibly. I'm obligated to look at the past use of her funds to get a clue about how she thinks that should be done. Now let's go inside and have a meeting with the town."
"Is that a no?" he asked.
"That is a no," Jack said. "I'm sorry you got stuck with a bad loan, but Hope's money wasn't meant for any one person. I'm sure of that."
"Don't know why not, if the return is good," he said in a pout. "The others might not agree with you, you know."
"Well, let's hear what they have to say." But he was already starting to regret this idea of a town meeting. And it pissed him off that Mel and Preacher were onto this ahead of him.
Jack left Hugh to find himself a seat and strode down the center aisle of the church. He got a prickly sensation up his spine when he noted there were more people packed into the church to divvy up the money than attended Sunday morning service.
"Evening," he said when he faced the crowd. "If it wasn't clear in the notice, let me explain why we're all gathering here tonight. Hope McCrea, who did so many generous things for Virgin River, left the town a trust in her will. And because she was a little daft and shortsighted, she decided to put me in charge. So, I thought it made sense to listen to your suggestions and ideas and--"
"How much did she leave you?" a man's voice rang out from the back.
"Okay, let's be clear, here--she didn't leave me anything. I have no intention of ever using or borrowing from her funds. But I have been given a responsibility that I take very seriously--to use what she left in a way that she would approve of. Now, if you knew Hope you knew she was pretty well fixed, but she didn't throw money around. Hell, I don't know if I ever saw her in a coat with all its buttons and God knows that old Suburban of hers had a couple hundred thousand miles on it. I take that as a clue about how careful she was with--"
"But see, I don't want to be king of the town purse."
"Well, you will. As soon as you're faced with six hundred wannabe kings and queens trying to jump on your throne with some far-out ideas of how to spend that money. Speaking of money, Hope very cleverly never told anyone how much there was. I'm sure it was so that she wasn't overwhelmed with requests. Are you planning to tell?"
"Don't I have to? If it's the town's money?"
"I'd talk to a lawyer with estate experience about that. Hey--Erin Foley! She's an estate attorney and the family has that renovated cabin now. Plus she's hooked up to Aiden Riordan, who has family nearby, so they'll be spending enough time here to have a vested interest!" She leaned toward him. "Jack, don't tell what the bottom line is before you know whether you absolutely have to. People get very strange when they think they have money burning a hole in their pockets."
"But it's not their money!" Jack insisted.
"That's not going to matter," said Preacher, who had been pretty quiet until now. "Haven't you ever read about those Lotto winners whose lives are destroyed by their windfall?"
"You really think that could happen here?" Jack asked. "This is a good little town!"
"Goodness and opportunity don't always meet on level ground," Mel said.
Both Jack and Preacher straightened suddenly. "Whoa," Jack said. "Is that like from the Dalai Lama or something?"
"No, that's an original Melinda Sheridan. Or, you could try this one on for size, since I bet it fits you to a T. No good deed shall go unpunished." She took a last sip of her diet cola. "I gotta go. We have patients this afternoon. Good luck with this." She whirled off her stool and headed out the door.
Jack stared after her. "Why didn't Hope make her the custodian?"
"Executor and administrator," Preacher corrected. "Personally, I think Hope's watching and getting a big laugh out of it." And with that, Preacher went back to the kitchen and Jack was left alone.
Alone with one final thought: We still haven't decided what to do with Hope's ashes. Don't we have to scatter her ashes before we start spending her money?
He thought he heard a distant, gravelly laugh.
Jack struggled with his dilemma for a few days. He tried not to talk about it too much, but if the bar was quiet and someone he knew to be a trusted friend happened upon his path, he was susceptible to spilling his guts. But the last person he expected walked in the door--Luke Riordan.
"Hey, there!" Jack said. "I've hardly seen you since Brett was born!"
Luke stuck out his hand across the bar. "Shelby sprung me loose for a beer break. Since she started back to school, I have so much quality time with Brett I guess I'm getting a little cranky."
"That a fact?" Jack asked with a laugh. "I can relate to that." He served him up a cold beer. In addition to managing six rental cabins on the river, Luke was taking care of their two-month-old son while Shelby went to college. "Cabins busy right now?" Jack asked.
"About half-full. The summer people have pretty much stopped coming through, but fishing is picking up and come next month when hunting season opens, we're booked solid. When it's groups of men making the reservations I assume fishing or hunting."
"How can you handle all that? With the baby?"
"For right now, Shelby's uncle Walt sticks pretty close. Art's a great help," Luke said. Art was a man in his early thirties with Down syndrome who lived on their property and worked under their supervision. "But there are a lot of things that are just beyond him--anything up a ladder, paperwork or accounting, driving for supplies, you know. But so far, we're managing just fine." He took a drink of his beer and said, "Ahhhh. Not like I don't have cold beer at home, but I needed to get out. I feel like a nanny."
"How are your brothers getting along?" Jack asked.
"Let's see--the youngest, Patrick, is sitting alert on an aircraft carrier, but it's a short three-month mission. Aiden and Erin are planning a small wedding for the spring. Sean is up to his eyeballs in Air Command and Staff College--boy's probably going to be an Air Force general. Now doesn't that make you laugh? Sean, the biggest screw-off I know. I guess he can get serious where the Air Force is concerned. And the only one we don't hear that much from is Colin, but that's always been the case. He's a loner."
"What's Colin doing these days?"
Luke took another swig of beer. "Black Hawk helicopters out of Fort Benning, Georgia."
"Shouldn't he be about ready to retire?" Jack asked. "Isn't he about forty?"
"About right, and already over twenty years in the Army--but they're going to have to throw him out. He'll never go quietly. He loves that helicopter and it loves him."
Jack poured himself a cup of coffee. "I never understood you flyboys. I never even liked riding in choppers."
Luke laughed at him. "All the boys fly except Aiden, and look what Aiden ended up doing--ob-gyn? Come on, that's weird if you ask me."
Jack took a sip. "Now, I think that makes sense. More sense than going up in the air in some kind of strange whirly machine. So, Luke, you and Shelby coming to the town meeting?"
Luke thought a moment before answering. He took a small taste of his beer for courage. "Hey, I'm real sorry, Jack, but that sounds like about the most boring thing I can think of and my fun meter is already way, way down."
"Mel thinks I shouldn't do it at all. She thinks everyone will have diverging ideas."
"No offense, Jack, but if you get ten people with enough time on their hands for a boring town meeting, you'll be lucky."
"Think so? You should come, Luke. Maybe you'll have some ideas for the town."
"Want to know what my best idea is? Sleeping through the night, that's the best idea I can come up with. I want that baby in his own room and me and Shelby sleeping straight through."
"It'll come," Jack said. "He's only a couple of months old."
"Yeah, a couple of months with a tapeworm. Kid eats nonstop. And he has the biggest feet I've ever seen. If babies grow into their feet like German shepherds, he's gonna be eight feet tall." He finished his beer slowly. "I'd like to stay longer, but I'm afraid if I do, you'll talk me into that meeting by calling in some marker or something."
"If you don't participate," Jack said solemnly, "no one will ever elect you mayor."
Luke stood up, tossed a couple of bills on the bar and said, "That works for me. You take care now." And he got out of there before it went any further.
While walking across the parking lot from the bar to the church for the town meeting, Jack asked Mel if she'd mind taking notes, just to have something to reference if he wanted to review the suggestions of what to do with their inheritance from Hope. "Notes? Like minutes?" she asked.
"Totally unofficial--but I'd like some kind of record of what was said. I don't know why or how I'll use it, but... You know--just jot down a name and a suggestion. That kind of thing."
"I guess so. Um, Jack--please play your cards close to your chest on this. Don't tell too much too fast. People never knew what Hope had and she was a cagey old broad--I suspect there was a reason for it. No one knew her town better than she did."
"I think you're selling this little town short, Melinda. I've always found most everyone to be responsible. Cautious, even. And certainly generous."
"Uh-huh," she said.
"Look, there are already cars and trucks parked outside." Jack smiled. "We're going to get a good turnout!"
"Uh-huh."
"Um, Jack?" a man's voice said.
Jack turned to find himself face-to-face with Hugh Givens, local apple orchard owner. He stuck out his hand. "Hey, Hugh, how's it going, man?"
"Good. Excellent. Listen, could I just have a quick word with you before the meeting starts?"
"You have ideas, Hugh? Because I'd prefer it if you'd--"
"No, sir, a question. If I could have a second... Alone?"
Mel's eyebrows lifted in surprise that anyone would ever question her discretion. She was probably the best secret keeper in the town. But she took the hint. Jack handed her the little notebook he'd been carrying and watched her go inside.
"What's up?" he said to Hugh.
"Well, I'm assuming Hope had her money mostly invested, and tied up in that big old house and stuff. And I'm wondering--you planning to invest? Make sure that money for the town keeps making money?"
"I guess," Jack said with a shrug. "Why?"
"Well, I have a proposition. Could work out for both of us. Remember I built that room on the house? Well, rooms. One downstairs, one up, and a freestanding garage--more for farm equipment than trucks, really. Things were real skippy when I built on, you know? But I kinda got caught in the economic downturn with an adjustable second mortgage so I was just wondering--how do you feel about making a loan out of that money? I'd pay decent interest, of course. Just not insane interest, if you get my meaning. Could make the town money go a little further and save my butt."
"Aw, Hugh, I'm not a banker. Just an executor, that's all."
"Yeah, that means you can do pretty much whatever you want as long as you don't abuse the money, right? This ain't abuse! It's a good investment! No matter how bad things get, people still make apple cider and apple pie. And things are gonna swing back up. But that adjustable rate second could really kill me in the meantime."
"Hugh, I don't think Hope intended personal loans--"
"It's not exactly a loan. An investment! By the way, how much did she leave you?"
Jack was starting to doubt his wisdom on this matter. He put a strong hand on Hugh's shoulder. "She didn't leave me anything, Hugh. She left it to the town and put me in charge of making sure it's used responsibly. I'm obligated to look at the past use of her funds to get a clue about how she thinks that should be done. Now let's go inside and have a meeting with the town."
"Is that a no?" he asked.
"That is a no," Jack said. "I'm sorry you got stuck with a bad loan, but Hope's money wasn't meant for any one person. I'm sure of that."
"Don't know why not, if the return is good," he said in a pout. "The others might not agree with you, you know."
"Well, let's hear what they have to say." But he was already starting to regret this idea of a town meeting. And it pissed him off that Mel and Preacher were onto this ahead of him.
Jack left Hugh to find himself a seat and strode down the center aisle of the church. He got a prickly sensation up his spine when he noted there were more people packed into the church to divvy up the money than attended Sunday morning service.
"Evening," he said when he faced the crowd. "If it wasn't clear in the notice, let me explain why we're all gathering here tonight. Hope McCrea, who did so many generous things for Virgin River, left the town a trust in her will. And because she was a little daft and shortsighted, she decided to put me in charge. So, I thought it made sense to listen to your suggestions and ideas and--"
"How much did she leave you?" a man's voice rang out from the back.
"Okay, let's be clear, here--she didn't leave me anything. I have no intention of ever using or borrowing from her funds. But I have been given a responsibility that I take very seriously--to use what she left in a way that she would approve of. Now, if you knew Hope you knew she was pretty well fixed, but she didn't throw money around. Hell, I don't know if I ever saw her in a coat with all its buttons and God knows that old Suburban of hers had a couple hundred thousand miles on it. I take that as a clue about how careful she was with--"
