Galen knew he was in over his head. That when he rented the farm to the Connors, he should have hadthemsign a contract. Rather than trusting their smiles and pretty faces and earnest promises about their creative plans for the place.
Galen also knew that even if he had months of work to get the farm back to its former glory, though he’d rather work his ass off than see the Conners on the property even one more day.
“You’re required to vacate by tomorrow,” he said.
“We don’t have to do that,” replied Dana. “We have till the end of the month. We agreed when we talked on the phone earlier.”
“You’ve destroyed all the hard work my dad and I put into the farm,” said Galen. “And now you’re leaving earlier than we originally agreed, which alleviates you of any rights.” He felt ice cold all over again. “I can have the sheriff here in ten minutes, and he’d drag you right off my property. And I’m keeping your deposit.”
He was so angry, and he wasn’t even breathing hard.
He could almost hear Bede whispering in his ear, saying,Give ‘em hell, Galen. Because now he had someone in his corner. Not a dying father. Not a ranch foreman who followed all the rules. He had Bede, tough, experienced Bede, and Bede would want him to look out for himself.
He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the sheriff’s number.
It was answered in two rings by Deputy Munroe. Galen would rather have spoken to the head guy, Sheriff Lamont, but this would do.
Galen explained the situation and how he wanted the Conners to vacate. He didn’t bother to lower his voice so that the Conners heard every single word. Standing there all in a row, their eyes were wide with shock, as if they’d never been told no in their entire lives.
“They didwhatto the lavender?” asked Deputy Munroe, sounding as horrified as if the lavender had been growing in his own garden.
“They’ve not watered it. Not all summer. Or weeded. It’s about to go brown and that’s my whole crop ruined.”
“You don’t say,” said Deputy Munroe, in a slow, cold way.
It was then that Galen remembered that even though Munroe wasn’t from the area, being a transplant from Colorado, he was fiercely loyal to the citizens in his district. That, in fact, he might express more urgency about the matter than even the sheriff would.
“I’ll be out there in ten,” said Deputy Munroe.
“I’ve given them till tomorrow at five,” said Galen, a little unsettled by the low growl that hunkered beneath Munroe’s response.
“I’ll be out there in ten,” said Deputy Munroe again, and then he hung up the phone. “And they leave today.”
“Better start packing,” said Galen as he looked at the Instagram couple and their little girl. “He did not sound pleased.”
Maybe the Conners didn’t know how far the range of a sheriff’s deputy went. Maybe they only knew county sheriffs from their movies and TV shows. Maybe they were hoping torecord a story that would justify their next reel being entitledScary Sheriff Ran Us Out of Our Rental - We Are Shocked!
Galen was sick of it. Sick of the whole thing. He didn’t want to stick around for the deputy, but he’d call, and then he’d come back later that week, in the evening, to take stock of the place.
He might have to hire someone to make sure of the lavender and get a beekeeper out to make sure of the bees. Everything could wait, because now he needed to get back to the valley. Back to Bede.
Once in the truck, it took everything he had not to gun his engine and spray gravel all over the place. He even left the gate open, not stopping to shut it, because the Conners were, very likely, just going to leave it open again when they left, anyway.
It took too long to get back to the valley, in the heat that simmered over everything, making the grass shimmer and the gravel reflect up hot silver.
When he got to the valley, he probably drove too fast down the switchbacks, and yes, he spun some gravel, but he was so grateful to arrive in the parking lot that after he turned off the engine, he sat there with his fingers clawed around the steering wheel, his whole body vibrating.
There was a light tap at his window. Bede. Standing in the long shadows of pine trees, waiting like a sentinel. Waiting for Galen.
Without preamble, Galen tumbled out of the truck and into Bede’s arms, who held him tightly. There were soft whispers in his ear. The words he could not recognize, but the intention he could. Bede meant to soothe him.
He wanted to spill the whole sordid tale, but there wasn’t anything Bede could do about it. So he described it as briefly as he could so Bede wouldn’t worry.
“They were horrible tenants, but I got rid of them,” said Galen. “I have to figure out how to pay those bills, but at least I kept their deposit, so that’s something.”
“We’ll figure something out,” Bede said, hooking his arm around Galen’s neck. “Don’t you worry. Now, let’s get you something to eat.”
The last thing Galen wanted to do was eat, but he knew he should, so he let Bede pull him to the mess tent. Let himself be guided to stand in the buffet line. Filled his plate with chicken and waffles, cornbread pudding, green beans and walnuts. It was one of his favorite meals, but he could barely stand to eat a bite. Only Bede’s watchful gaze and the gentle push of Bede’s thigh against his got him in motion.
