"I dunno," I said, trying to make it sound like I was thinking about it. "I overheard that her apartment in New York is worth a lot more. I'm kinda thinking that maybe she just doesn't understand the value of things out here."
"She's got a place in New York?" he asked.
I nodded slowly. "Yep. It's where the other guy went. The pretty one. Guess they have a business up there too? I dunno. Just showed up when he was leaving and heard them talking a bit." All bullshit, but I was a little proud of it. "I know you shook her talking about the ag exemption, though."
He grunted. "They were cutting the back pasture today. Fucking bitch is going to make hay."
"Should be good stuff," I admitted. "Vera used to fertilize it good, and it's been fallow for a few years, so it'll probably test high."
Mr. Simmons glared at me with narrow eyes. "How would she know about that?"
"Um, from pretty much anyone in Cats Peak?" I shrugged. "Sounds like she also used to live there, so maybe Vera taught her about it? I'm just pissin' in the wind with that, sir. Wild guesses."
He turned on his seat to look right at me. "You aren't helping them, are you?"
"Not unless you consider sucker-punching the first guy helping." I let a little grin show. "Fucking idiot's a real prick. Thinks he's king shit. Dropped him pretty good. Not so sure I wanna try that with the new one, though."
Mr. Simmons just nodded. "You do know they're all delinquents up there, right? Vera Dawson was making those kids queer, and I know for a fact that Cy Marshall's a fag. Caught that boy on my land back then, and he was with another boy, had his hands down the poor kid's pants. Called the cops, but the other boy said it was consensual."
"Shit," I breathed, because I hadn't heard a thing about that. "I kinda thought she was banging both of 'em, truth be told."
"They're prolly banging each other. That place is a house of sin, Luke. You need to be real careful up there. I'm not gonna tell you to stay away, but just watch your back. You're a good boy, but I can't keep you outta shit unless you talk to me."
"My getting in shit years are long gone," I assured him. "I'm just trying to pay the bills, sir. Maybe get myself married one day."
"Speaking of that, how's Meredith?" he asked.
I kept from growling under my breath, but it wasn't easy. Mr. Simmons knew that things between myself and my ex weren't good. At the best of times, we basically ignored each other to make things with our daughter easier. On the bad days, however, she was more than willing to rip me a new asshole. With the wedding coming up, there were a lot more bad days than good.
"Faith says her mom's reached the panic point about the wedding. Sounds like Brody has a side job online, so he's told her to do whatever she wants, but Meredith can't figure out what she wants. Faith's getting the cutest little flower girl dress, though. She hates it, says she's too old to be a flower girl and wants to be a maid of honor, but you know how kids are."
"Don't I ever," Mr. Simmons agreed. "So, I guess you're not going to it, huh?"
"Kinda gotta," I told him.
"Taking a date?"
Oh, he was pushing that a little too hard. "Probably not, but might ask one of the girls from the grill." I grunted, making it clear how I felt about that. "Just don't want Meredith to think I'm hard up or anything, but I also don't wanna bring some date and have to explain that to Faith. Most of the girls I've met lately are good for a night at best. Maybe two."
The man smiled slyly. "Like Monday?"
Time to lie again. "Yep. She could suck a golf ball through a hose. Started getting clingy the next day, so I'm out. Fucking buckle bunnies, but that's about all there are up at Showdown, and with having to work in the mornings, going to Dallas is out."
"Trying to say you need a day off?" Mr. Simmons asked.
I chuckled. "Sure. You find someone who won't give the heifers the stock cubes and the steers the alfalfa cubes, and I'm all over it. Heard there's a new bar opening up in Sherman. Probably a few nice girls over there."
"Or you could date one of the nice girls from around here," he countered. "I can introduce you to a few at church if you want. Annie keeps asking about you, so I figure I'll finally be able to tell her something to get her off my ass."
Annie was his wife. She was a sweet woman, but about as spineless as every other girl from this town. Her worries were about finding a good wife for her son, hooking up her friends' daughters, and how many grandkids she was going to get to help raise. Well, that and Jesus. She was the head of the church bake sale and a few other fundraisers.
"No offense, Mr. Simmons," I said around a laugh, "but right now, I'm looking for a little more dancing under the stars and a lot less wedding bells."
"And you already know where sowing your wild oats got you," he countered. "I told you to keep your nose clean, boy. Don't screw it up now."
"No, sir," I agreed. "But unless you want me moving a wife into this trailer, I need to get my shit together a little more before thinking like that."
He nodded. "Ok. Well, I was just worried about you when you didn't come home for a couple of days. Wanted to make sure you weren't taking Meredith's wedding too hard." He turned back to the wheel as if he was going to drive away, then added, "And be careful with that Dawson woman. You already got yourself tangled up with her, and I don't want that mess over here. That girl's no good, Luke. Those men she hangs out with are even worse. We don't need that shit in Cats Peak, and while I can't do much about who lives there, I can certainly keep them off my land."
