Page 137 of Maverick

"Fuck," I mutter, waving him in. I know exactly what ‘this’ is. He closes the door and drops into the chair on the other side of the desk.

"McKenna again?"

"Yes! That fucker is not going to sign those papers. And Ransom won't drop it. He's doubled the money. Then he doubled it again, and still nothing. And he keeps telling me notto go there in person. I'm fucking hobbled. I do my best work in person."

"I know you do. Ransom's been…off lately. Have you noticed?"

"Yeah man, I have. He's been quieter. It's not like him. And every time I mention McKenna, he gets all frosty."

"This is a fucking mess. McKenna is not going to sell. Every time we send a contract, it comes back fucked up. I mean, you gotta appreciate the guy's dedication."

"Yeah," Nick says glumly, propping his chin on his fist. "Though I still think the bag of dog shit was going a bit too far."

"Yeah, that one was gross. But I thought the dead fish was worse. I had to give my assistant a week off after that one."

Nick snorts then groans, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. "But, can you blame the guy? We've been bugging the fuck out of him. Yeah, we've been persistent in the past, but when an owner tells us no this many times, we move the fuck on. But Ran won't let us."

"I don't think Ransom's seeing any of this clearly. Maybe he hasn't from the beginning. Maybe it's time we step in."

Nick sits forward and plants his elbows on his knees. "You're talking about going there, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am. I think it's our only option. We have to talk to this guy face to face and figure out what the fuck is going on. And then whatever we find, we have to help Ransom. I don't have enough information right now to even begin to help him. He won't fucking talk, which is weird, because he talks about everything, all the time."

"True. He would never let us get away with this kind of secrecy. He'd haul us into a room and get us so drunk we'd spill the whole story."

"Exactly. So honestly, he has to expect that this was coming, right? He knows we wouldn't just respect his boundaries, right? I mean, we don't do that. Or at least we don't for very long."

"Agreed. So we're going to Badger Falls, and we're going to talk to McKenna?"

"Yeah, we are. Right now. Get your coat and I'll meet you downstairs."

"Fuck yes!” Nick says, heading for the door. He opens it, then shuts it right away. “Shit. Don't let Ransom see you leave."

"It's kind of pretty out here,"I say, staring out the passenger window. I don't know much about farming, but some of the grass is yellow, and there are big tractor thingys out in the fields. The countryside rolls past us, a patchwork quilt of golden wheat fields and lush green pastures. Weathered wooden fences zigzag along the roadside, separating plots of land that stretch into forever. In the distance, a herd of cattle grazes lazily, their black and white coats popping against the green grass. "I wonder what it would be like, to have so much space."

"It's a little too open, you know what I mean? Nice, but I'm used to buildings and noise. Do cows make much noise?"

"I have no idea."

"They don't look like they do. They seem pretty mellow. I wonder if farmers go out and like…pet them. Do you think they treat them like dogs?" he muses.

"Two thousand pound dogs? I don't know.

Nick hums, one elbow resting on the edge of his door, the other tapping his thigh. "We're coming up on the town. Look."

I focus back on the road as we crest a hill, and suddenly a little community is spread out below us. From this far away, I can't make out much detail, but something about it pulls you in. It looks like the cover of a picture book, or something from aChristmas movie. "What would it be like to live in a place like this?"

Something in Nick's face shifts. "Bree says it's pretty great. Everybody is in everybody else's business, but everyone takes care of each other too. Kinda like us I guess." He clears his throat. "She says it's pretty great to sit on your front porch and be able to watch the kids play. They'd spend the day wandering around with friends, exploring the woods, riding their bikes to the store. All things I don't think I'd ever be okay with my kids doing in the city."

The way he says it makes it feel like a pressing problem. "Are you thinking about kids?"

"Yeah, I can't seem to help it. I want to see Bree as a mother. She'd be so great at it."

"Yeah, she would be. And you would make a pretty great dad."

"I hope so," he says quietly. "I really hope so. Because I want it all with her. I want everything. And I need to make her happy."

I shift uncomfortably in my seat, turning to face him. "Why does it feel like we're saying goodbye?"

---