And an hour later, when we’ve stumbled over enough fallen branches on my side of the stream and decided to putter back to her dirt road, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve just been on a first date.
Maybe the best I’ve ever had.
13
RYDER
After Eve shows me around her property, I struggle to get the thought of her out of my mind. She’s just so damnadorablewhen she geeks out over her water wheel charger and excitedly tells me snippets of her childhood on the farm.
Adorable. Pretty. Determined. Fierce.
I like her more than I should.
But rather than obsessing over her, I need to focus on my main goal: getting my proposal approved.
Eve was probably not suggesting I figure out a way to deal with Reed’s rooster problem. In fact, I have no doubt there’s someone else on that council who wants this development project to go through whocantake care of Reed’s rooster problem.
But I got caught in the crossfire, and I’m not particularly interested in waiting for someone else to deal with this problem.
So, I do a quick google search for property records with Reed’s name on them and plug the address into my GPS. It takes me to a small residential street just off the main roadwith cookie-cutter single homes on reasonably sized lots—not quite reasonableenough forroosters, though—with white picket fences and brick facades.
The perfect all-American street.
And it doesn’t take me long to deduce the offending neighbor is the one just to the right with an array of kids’ bikes scattered across a lawn that could use a good mow and the edge of a chicken coop sticking out from behind the house.
I park the car along the street and head to the front door, knocking lightly and being immediately greeted by what sounds like at least three rambunctious dogs screaming at the other side of the door, several children notifying the family that someone is at the door, and a woman screaming for someone else to answer it.
The man who finally answerslookslike he spends every day in a house of constant noise. Close haircut with bags under his eyes, dressed in sweatpants with a kid no more than three or four tugging on his leg.
“Can I help you?”
I nod. “I’m here to buy your rooster.”
And thanks to Eve’s double-entendres, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m propositioning this man.
“I’m sorry?”
“You have a rooster that crows very early, right? I’d like to buy your rooster and your agreement to not replace it with another.”
He shakes his head, moving like he’s going to close the door. “Look, my son’s class sent him home with a baby chick last year that turned into a rooster. It’s his pet. I’m perfectly within my right to own a rooster here.”
I hold up one hand. “Look, my name is Ryder Blackwell. I’m building a development next door to the sunflower farmand long story short, to get my development plans approved, I need you to sign an agreement to no longer own any roosters at this address,” I say.
He nods slowly, sizing me up. “I think I’ve seen you at town meetings.”
I nod. “I've been to far too many of them recently.”
He laughs. “Don’t I know it. I feel like I can’t get away from them with the asshole mayor next door,” he says, pointing with his thumb toward Mayor Reed’s house.
“Not exactly my favorite person, either."
He eyes me, undoubtedly wondering what his rooster has to do with my development plans. “Well, like I said, the rooster isn’t for sale. It’s my son’s pet.”
But he doesn’t close the door.
“You obviously care about your kids very much,” I say, nodding to the one still attached to his leg. “What if giving up the rooster ownership today means putting a dent in their college fund?”
He cocks his head to the side. “How much are you willing to pay for a rooster?”
