Epilogue
“Campers,” I screamed into the megaphone. “I need all the theater kids over by the Birch building. All the painters by the Elk building. All the equestrian campers by the Myer’s building. We have to get through registration before the fun can begin.”
“Clyde, can you take this little girl over to the Birch building? She’s here for theater camp,” Kelsi said as she came up to Clyde and I as we looked out over the large group of kids.
“This is it. We are official,” I said to Kelsi. “Can you believe we sold out for our first official year?”
“I can believe it. Our camp is kick ass. Kids don’t have to choose between one thing or another; they get it all here. They get outdoor fun, theater, and art all in one location. When I was a kid, I would have begged my parents for the entire year to send me someplace like this.”
Kelsi was right. Her dream for the ranch had turned into a niche in the market that I couldn’t have seen. Kids did want it all. They wanted to do theater, but still canoe in a lake. They wanted to learn how to paint, but still ride horses. If our first camping season was any sign of what was to come, we were going to have one hell of a ride with our new camp.
“Guys, I was going to take the four-wheeler out to the Decker-end of the property to check on the theater and make sure it was finished. Is there anything else you need while I’m out there?” Hannah asked.
“Actually, I’d really like to take a look at it myself. Do you think you and the counselors could wrangle everyone up and Kelsi and I can meet you in a little bit?”
“Sure, it’s going to take a few hours to get everyone settled. You two have a fun ride; I’ll keep Clyde with me here.”
“Are you up for a ride?” Kelsi asked me as she tried to grab the keys from Hannah.
“Oh, no, I’m driving,” I said firmly as I took the keys before she could get to them. “We don’t have time to get coated in mud.”
“Fine, I’ll let you drive this time,” she said. “But I get to drive next time, without any arguments from you.”
“I’ll try not to argue with you, but you’re so adorable when you’re angry with me.”
“You know that is ridiculous that you actually like it when I’m angry. You know that’s weird, right?” She laughed.
“Yep, and you’ll just have to learn to live with it. Forever and ever,” I said as we climbed onto the four-wheeler to head over to the construction site. “No mud puddles this time. I don’t want to end up naked and in the river.”
“So many rules.” She laughed as we took off.
The Decker property was being turned into our huge theater performance area. The main theater was almost complete and would house up to 500 people. It was our hope that at the end of camp, families could come to see their children’s performances, but we also wanted kids to get to know the inner workings of a real theater. We had room for sets, dressing rooms, and even a building area for what we hoped would be a new woodworking part of our program.
I couldn’t take credit for much of the theater plans or programming, though; it was all Kelsi. She envisioned the kids getting to learn about everything from lighting to directing while they were at camp.
“Look at it, wow,” I said as we climbed off the four-wheeler and walked up to the main entrance. “It’s so professional. We might have to start doing some community theater shows out here.”
“That’s a great idea! We could do that during the winter months. Look who’s coming up with ideas now,” she teased me.
“I’m not just a handsome checkbook.”
“Nope, you’re much more than that. Can we go in and walk around? I’d like to see how close we are to being finished.”
“Crap, I forgot the keys.”
“We could drive back I guess. But we’d have to come back tomorrow because I need to be there for dinner to talk with the campers.”
“It’s an hour back home; I’m not waiting. Let’s just find a way in,” I said as I started jiggling the doors.
“Why do they even lock this thing? We are in the middle of the country; no one’s going to break in out here.”
“Like we didn’t break into a house out here once?” I teased her. “I think it’s a good idea we keep things locked up, especially with all the kids here. We don’t want them sneaking in and causing trouble.”
“It’s like we have hundreds of our own teenagers. That’s some serious parenting skills we need to have.” She laughed. “Don’t break a window please.”
“I wouldn’t do that. These windows were really expensive.”
We moved around to the back of the theater where there was a door cracked open a bit. It was the door I had instructed the workers to leave open because I had planned this visit out all along. Kelsi didn’t know it, but the theater was complete, and she and I were going to be the first official couple on the stage.
I had to take my time getting her up onto the stage, though. There was a big surprise that we were trying to arrange and they were going to need some time to make it happen. So, Kelsi and I walked through all the rooms backstage until I got a text message saying we were cleared to go onto the stage.
“It smells new in here,” she said as we walked through the backstage area toward the main stage.
“I’ve got a surprise for you. Close your eyes,” I said as I held onto her hands and walked with her onto the stage. “Kelsi Lynn Sullivan,” I said as I kneeled down. “Open your eyes, silly.”
“Oh, sorry, wait…what are you doing?”
“You know you’re the love of my life and this ranch isn’t just your dream, it’s become my dream, too. I love you. I love Clyde, and I think we should make this official. Will you marry me?”
Kelsi stood still for a moment and looked out over the empty seats of the theater. Her beautiful red hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her green eyes sparkled in the spotlight of the stage. She looked even more beautiful than the day I first met her.
“Yes,” she said as she flung her arms around me and knocked me to the ground. “Yes, yes, yes.”
It had been two long years of building the ranch and Kelsi putting off the idea of us getting married. Two years of us dedicating every last bit of energy to this dream we were developing together. But I had waited. I willingly waited for the moment when Kelsi and I could take the next big step in our life. It was finally here; we were finally going to be official.
“Did she say yes?” I heard Mike yell from up at the spotlight stand. “It’s scary up here. I need to come down.”
“I said yes, Mike,” Kelsi yelled up at him.
“Thank God. Okay, I’m coming down.”
“You got Mike to run the spotlight?” Kelsi laughed.
“He wanted to be part of it. There’s a little bit more of a surprise,” I said as Mike flipped the spotlight off and started to climb down. “Now, guys!” I yelled.
The auditorium erupted in applause as we looked out and saw all the kids from the ranch filing in through the doors at the back of the auditorium. Not only had I arranged to have Hannah and the team bring all the kids over, but our parents and family were out in the audience as well.
“Oh, wow,” Kelsi said as she grabbed her mouth and her eyes filled with tears.
“She said yes!” I screamed out to them so they could hear me over all the noise. “She’s going to marry me, finally!”
By Claire Adams
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Claire Adams
Chapter One
Archer
I woke up before the sun and immediately got down on my knees to make my bed. In the Army, they taught me how to smooth down the top and tuck the ends underneath the mattress so that the bed was perfectly flat and stiff. It was so tight I could’ve bounced a nickel off it. When I was done, I stood up to inspect my work. A fleck of lint remained at the foot of the bed, sitting there like a scar on a beautiful face. I snatched it up and threw it into the trash before I hopped into the shower.
Everything in my world had to be perfect. I couldn’t tolerate uncertainties, and I refused to wait and see how things turned out, not with two boys to raise and a business to run.
It wasn’t just any business, either. Sans Contracting was a multi-billion dollar contracting firm. We worked closely with the Navy, providing them a never-ending stream of technological advancements for their aircraft. That meant steady, well-thought-out research and a diligent staff who could work miracles on a daily basis.
If the company couldn’t deliver consistent results, it would collapse. The Navy would pull our contracts, and we’d be left with nothing but an empty warehouse and a worthless pile of stock. The only way to keep things afloat was to maintain a strict measure of discipline in my life.
I pulled on a crisp white button-up, a jacket, and black slacks. Then I checked myself in the mirror to make sure I looked presentable. This wasn’t vanity. I hated worrying about my appearance, but as the old saying goes, the clothes make the man. I had to look the part if I wanted to inspire confidence in my staff and in my clients.
Still, my focus on image extended only so far. I kept my black hair short, almost buzzed on the top with a fade on the sides. The last thing I wanted to do was go to the hairdresser once a week to get dolled up like royalty.
It didn’t matter. I left an impression on everyone I met, whether for good or for bad. It was my eyes that did it. People said they looked unnatural, like green fire set against my mocha-colored skin. I used to play with people whenever I first met them. I’d train my eyes on them with a serious look and watch as they shifted around uncomfortably or shut down altogether. That trick was partially responsible for my success. A man with the ability to disarm people with a single glance could easily get ahead.
When I was done getting dressed, I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and called my nanny, Mona.
“I’m downstairs,” she said. “I’ll be up in a moment.” She hung up. The woman was in her eighties and still managed to get up at four in the morning.
I was almost ready for work when I saw her walk up quietly to my bedroom door. She was short and round, her white hair in a bun. A scarlet broach held the collar of her black dress together.
“You can come in,” I said, once I’d finished tying my shoes.
“I checked on the boys. They’re still sleeping.”
“You didn’t wake them up?” I asked as I gathered my things.
“No, they’re fine.”
I began walking downstairs. “Was Abel’s forehead warm?”
She followed me. “Not that I could tell. I think he got over the worst of it yesterday afternoon.”
“Let me know if he gets a fever.”
“You don’t have anything to worry about,” she said as I walked out the front door.
I wasn’t the kind of man who just left his children with anybody—quite the opposite. An Olympic gold medalist wouldn’t meet my standards, but Mona did. She was the only person I’d ever trusted my children with, and I couldn’t imagine using anyone else.
A hulking black luxury sedan waited for me outside. I got in the back seat and motioned for the driver to get moving. The car had lots of room, so I wouldn’t have to feel claustrophobic and could move around comfortably.
I wanted to drive myself, but that was a silly dream. My life was too demanding. Usually, by the time I got to the car I was already swimming in emails and phone calls, all of them requiring my urgent attention. I could either work or drive. I chose work.
Most of my company’s projects were done on the naval base. I hated the place. It felt like entering a fascist dictatorship, but there was an airstrip and a place for my research and testing departments to work. They were the most important departments. What they did could make or break the company, so I kept them close and did my best to keep tabs on what they were doing.
When we arrived at the base, we passed through a series of security gates where they checked our IDs before letting us in. To the east, I could see the yellow glare of the sun rising over the airplane graveyard, where they kept miles and miles of historic models, all of them rotting in the field. I would’ve killed to get a look at them and tinker around inside, but access was restricted.
It didn’t matter. I barely had time to see what my people were working on. I couldn’t spare a moment to indulge my interest in old planes, even if they would grant me access. Oddly enough, today was different. My phone hadn’t beeped once, so I had a few free moments of silence on the ride over.
A test was scheduled for today at the warehouse near the airstrip. I told my driver to drop me off there so I could take a look and keep an eye on things. When I walked into the warehouse, the supervisor, Rick, had a technician backed up against the wall near the office. The tech saw me come in. He was young, almost a kid. His eyes got wider and wider as I walked closer. It was bad to mess up in front of Rick. It was a newer employee’s nightmare to screw up in front of the head of the company.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Rick asked the tech. “Hold onto that sensor like it’s worth a few million dollars. Because it is.”
“Anything I should be interested in?” I watched the tech closely, forking him with my unnerving gaze. “What did you do?”
“N-nothing,” the tech said, shrinking away and folding his arms over his chest.
I turned to the supervisor and grinned at him evilly. “Do we have to fire another tech this week?”
The poor kid went a sickly shade of green. I thought he might actually be sick right there in the warehouse. Rick shot me a subtle smile before turning back to the tech.
“I don’t know, boss. I think we should give him another chance.”
I turned my gaze back on the tech and nodded slowly. “All right, Rick. But I’ll be keeping an eye on this one. He should probably get out of here before I change my mind.”
The tech practically squeaked in fear as he hurried away from us and out of the warehouse. I was able to hold in my laughter until he was gone. Rick joined in, shaking his head and chuckling.
“You’re pure evil,” he said.
“Oh, come on, Rick. Just having a little fun.”
“You just damaged that poor boy for life.”
“He won’t be making mistakes anytime soon, that’s for sure.” There was a plane sitting in the center of the warehouse. It was an old recreational model, the kind that amateur pilots might fly. I recognized it immediately. “Is Bessie ready to fly?”
“I think so.”
“What was wrong with her?”
“The fuel was contaminated, and the engine needed a bit of a tune up.”
I nodded. “Did you get that sorted out? I don’t want her crashing on her first flight.”
“Yeah. We’re going to try her out. She’s basic and easy to work with, perfect for testing out the new sensor prototype.”
“She’s a good choice,” I agreed.
“We’ll have her ready to go here in a second if you’d like to see the test,” Rick said.
“That’s why I’m here.”
“It’s boring, though.” Rick turned back to me with a hushed voice. “We went over that entire machine. It’s going to take off, go in a loop, and land. Then all of the technicians will clap and cry like this is NASA or something.”
“Let them have their moment.”
“It’s too dramatic. I can’t trust these men the way I used to. They’re pussies, every last one of them.”
I stifled a laugh. “That’s what you say about Army men, too.”
“Yeah, but y’all are different. At least you have muscle. Just not much going on up in here.” He playfully knocked on my skull. I grabbed him by the wrist, twisting it back.
“Ah, come on.” He tried to squirm away.
“Fine.” I let him go.
“The Navy can’t be all that bad. They got you making billions.”
“But the Army was what got me to the head of the pack,” I said.
“I don’t buy it.” Rick led me to the back wall where we could watch the takeoff. “You come for drinks tonight?” Rick handed me a pair of earmuffs to block out the sound of the plane taking off.
“I guess.” I put the earmuffs on and watched as the plane took off, looped around the airfield, and landed back down. The technicians all clapped and ran out toward the plane crying and taking pictures. Somebody had even brought a cake. I usually encouraged things like that. It helped keep their spirits up and made them feel like they were accomplishing something. Still, I had to agree with Rick; it was more than a little corny.
When the test was over, I excused myself and walked to the back of the warehouse to check my phone. There was a swarm of messages, and they just kept coming, more every second. It was Armageddon. The entire office was running around like chickens with their heads cut off because I was ten minutes late. I couldn’t avoid it any longer. I had to head to the office.
There were a million questions the second I walked in. After that, a never-ending wave of emails, voicemails, text messages, and, of course, an endless stream of people in and out of my office. Then, there was the paperwork. I could die happy if it meant never having to sign and date another form again. I was going to have to work twice as hard to make up for the time I lost at the warehouse. Otherwise, I wouldn’t get out in time to go to the bar, and I needed a drink—badly.