Page 101 of Grit
Ox said, “Eventually we’ll want more bedrooms.”
“Exactly.”
Melissa’s eyes went wide. “What? Really?”
Emmie held up her hands. “Not right now. Or even right away. You know… eventually.”
Melissa’s face was glowing. “I’m so excited for you guys.Soexcited.”
Cary’s heart lurched in his chest. They were talking about Ox and Emmie having kids. Did Melissa want more kids? She was young enough to have more. He’d always wanted children, but after his first marriage broke up, he figured it wasn’t in the cards. Could it be? His eyes must have given more away than he realized, because Melissa caught his gaze and looked away quickly.
Shit.
It wasn’t a deal breaker for him. Not even close. She might be happy with one kid and didn’t want more. Since Cary loved Abby like she was his own, that would be fine. It’d be great, in fact. But the idea of having more…
It would be like climbing El Capitan successfully and then coming down and finding out you’d won the lottery while you were on the side of the mountain.
But how did he bring it up? It was probably too soon. Wasn’t it?
He watched Ox and Emmie giddily making plans for the future and realized something surprising.
He was jealous as hell.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The October meetingof the Oakville town council was held at the Veterans Hall, just like it typically was, but the hall ran out of chairs fifteen minutes before the meeting was due to start.
That was not typical.
Instead of a scattering of residents, the hall was packed to the gills. There were people wearing bright yellow T-shirts in the back with banners sayingSave Jordan Valley. There was a contingent from the Yokuts tribal government sitting in the second row. There were residents and store owners, young parents and senior citizens.
And lots and lots of farmers.
The farmers, conventional and organic, ranchers and herders and tree growers, had all clustered on the right side of the hall. Melissa walked into the meeting with Cary and had to bite back a laugh.
He frowned. “What?”
She waved her right hand toward the farmers. “A sea. A veritable sea of plaid.”
Cary glanced down at the blue chambray shirt covering his national park T-shirt. Both were ripped up from citrus thorns, and the blue chambray had an old coffee stain on the sleeve. “I always did try to be different.”
“And that is only one of the reasons I love you.”
He smiled. “Come on. We may not be wearing plaid, but they are our people.”
Melissa and Cary moved to the right side of the hall, exchanging nods with all the farmers, growers, and ranchers they knew.
They were a solitary crowd by nature, but from the mutters and mumbles Melissa could hear, not a single one of them was a fan of the Allen Ranch project. Too many people. Too much water—water was a big issue. The farmers were worried about new people complaining about the dust and the smell of animals. About large equipment moving down the roads.
City people meant problems, even if they appreciated the scenery. That was the general consensus.
Cary found a clear spot of wall to lean against, and Melissa leaned against him. They got a few looks, but not many.
Had she really been that oblivious? Not a single person looked surprised to see them together.
She felt the atmosphere of the room change as soon as the representatives from JPR Holdings walked in. There was Kevin Fontaine, whom they’d met before; Devin Peres, Melissa’s brother-in-law; and a face she didn’t recognize, a middle-aged woman with a smartly cut blond bob.
“She looks like a lawyer on television,” Cary said. “Not like a cheesy injury lawyer, like one of those actressesplayinga really smart lawyer.”
