Chapter Two
Chance
I strummed along as the song played through the speakers. On the other side of the glass divide, inside the booth, Tina smiled at me. Well, grinned flirtatiously would be a more accurate way of putting it. I smiled back as I continued strumming on my guitar and mouthed the words, “great tune” at her, aware that she couldn't hear me at all while inside the soundproof booth.
At thirty, Tina Lafayette was just a year younger than me, but she looked like she'd just turned twenty-one. I had to admit, her looks had definitely given her the edge over several other aspiring DJs when I was hiring, but even then, she had pleasantly surprised me with her vast knowledge of country music and Southern rock. Also, her honey-sweet voice really resonated with the male listeners and, come to think of it, the female listenership had also gone up over the past five months since she'd joined us on Corral-FM, the country music station I owned and operated.
As I was strumming along to the tune, there was a knock on my door – a knock I'd been expecting. I set my baby down gently on her guitar stand and then kicked my feet up onto my desk and called out to the man behind the door. “Come on in; it's open.”
The door opened, and a tall, slim man with thinning, gray hair stepped in wearing a slick business suit and carrying a briefcase. He flashed a thin smile at me, and I nodded in response, pointing at a chair opposite me. I kept my feet up on the desk. I intended to be civil with this guy, but he didn't deserve my respect.
He set his briefcase down on the desk and leaned forward, offering me his hand to shake. I took it reluctantly, squeezing it firmly as a good Southern gentleman does when shaking hands, but I almost recoiled at how limp, clammy, and cool his hand felt.
“Mr. Chance Lawson, I'm pleased to finally make your acquaintance in person,” he said, still wearing his tight-lipped smile. His accent marked him as someone from the West Coast. He was far away from home out here in Nashville.
“Peter Duvalle, yeah?” I said, noticing how deep and gravelly my voice, with its slight Southern drawl, sounded in contrast to his smooth and slick manner of speech.
“That's correct.” He sat down, still smiling, and glanced through the glass at Tina as she spoke into the mic, taking a call from a listener.
“One of your DJs, I presume?” he asked.
“One of my finest, yeah. Miss Tina Lafayette.”
Another tight-lipped smile. “I've never heard of her.”
“I'm not surprised. I'm guessing you're not much of a country music fan.”
He chuckled dryly. “Not particularly. I prefer classical music, to be honest. Although this little radio station, I must say, does have a certain rustic charm to it, I suppose. Does it turn much of a profit, Mr. Lawson?”
He was trying to get under my skin, trying to push my buttons. I wasn't about to let this slick shark of a bastard play head games with me, though.
“Oh, hell yeah, Duvalle. Why do you think I keep it going? I mean, I love my country music and the good Lord above knows it’s always been one of the most stable pillars in my life, but I wouldn't be running this station if it weren't making me a decent amount a' greenbacks.”
He chuckled. “I suppose there must be money in advertising, hmm, trucks, shotguns, and agricultural equipment? And, presumably, cowboy boots like this pair you insist on waving in my face?”
He was definitely trying to dig his nails in and get under my skin. Clearly, he thought of me as just some country hick that he could outmaneuver with ease. Therefore, it was also clear that he didn't really know who he was actually dealing with, nor did he know much about the dangers of underestimating opponents.
“Those ain't the only things we get advertising revenue from on this station, Duvalle. Nor is advertising our only source of revenue. We turn some very healthy profits here on Corral FM, but I can't blame you for not understanding just how many layers there are to the radio business.”
He smiled again, and the smugness of his grin had me curling my hands into fists at my sides. He definitely had a “punch me” kinda face, and to tell the truth, I'd have been happy to oblige. Still, while this snake didn't deserve my respect, I was going to deal with him in a civil manner.
“Well, since you're doing so well with Corral FM, then you don't really need to worry about the ranch, do you?” he asked. “In fact, from what you've told me, it sounds like owning and running this radio station is pretty complicated business, isn't it? Why, then, burden yourself with the owning and running of a ranch on top of that? Just think about it, Mr. Lawson, just think about it – you take our offer for your land, plow all that money into this radio station. After all, we're planning on making you a very generous offer for the ranch, and you'll have killed two birds with one stone. You'll be less stressed, you'll have plenty of free time to concentrate on your radio station, plus you'll be swimming in money.”
I shook my head and crossed my arms across my chest. “Not gonna happen, Duvalle. That land has been in my family for five generations now. Five generations. You understand? My blood is in that dirt. My blood is that dirt. And that land is worth more to me than whatever amount you and that damned beef corporation are prepared to offer me. See these boots, Duvalle? These boots in your face? They're made from cowhide from one of my own steers. We raise 'em right, the old-fashioned way – and the quality is so far above what you corporate types can achieve with your feedlots and factory farms, that it's as if the product is from a different damned planet. And contrary to what you suits sit around and discuss in your boardrooms in LA and New York, there are still a lot of people around who are prepared to pay top dollar for top quality – and they do. Lawson cattle are famous across the length and breadth of this glorious country, Duvalle, and all your damned feedlots will never change that.”
“You haven't even heard how much we're prepared to offer you for the land, Lawson. I assure you, it's an extremely generous—”
I held up a hand to silence him and shook my head slowly. “Your offer is of little relevance, Duvalle. I've already been generous enough with my time, and I don't think I want to give you any more of it. I'm a busy man, as you well know. You know where the door is, so I'd appreciate it if you went ahead and let yourself out.”
“Mr. Lawson, please, you haven't even let me present—”
“I'm not selling the land, Duvalle.” I cut him off again. “Not now, not ever. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a business to run.”
The thin smile vanished from his face, replaced with a scowl. He stood up curtly and glared at me.
“Well will get that land from you eventually, Lawson. Mark my words. We can do it the easy way, or the hard way – and I implore you, for the sake of yourself and your daughter—”
I stood from my chair in one swift motion, my blood boiling and his implied threat to my family. I leaned forward, placing my hands on my desk and towering over the puny man. “Do not mention my daughter, you pencil-necked scumbag. Ever!”
“I was simply—”
“I don't give a shit what you were trying to do – you don't ever mention my child. Now get the hell out of here before I kick your ass out of the door and all the way down the steps.”
“Mr. Lawson, please—”
“Out. Now.”
There was no mistaking the tone of my voice, so he nodded, still scowling, then got up and left. He passed Tina as he exited my office. She had just finished her shift. Tina stepped into the office, swaying her generous hips and looking at me with a flirtatious look in her big green eyes. Her red hair flowed loosely over her shoulders, complemented by the bright shade of red that stained her lips.
“What was that suit wanting?” she asked. “You two looked as if you were about to tangle.”
I sighed. “He's from that cattle corporation that wants to buy the ranch, Circle B.”
“I see. He looked like some corporate type.”
“Oh, he was. And I'll tell you straight, the longer he was here, the more I felt like kickin' his damn ass.”
She chuckled.
“And you would've handed it to him. He was half your size. Especially with those guns of yours.”
“Oh, come off it, Tina, not now.”
She immediately recognized I wasn't in the mood for her games, so she dialed the flirting back. Tina had been after me for a long time, and while I did find her attractive, I didn't want to get into a relationship. I hadn't wanted that for a long time.
And while I liked my women, I've always been a firm proponent of the “don't shit where you eat” principle. My relationship with Tina was, first and foremost, a professional one, and I aimed to keep it that way, even if she had other ideas.
Tina was about to continue the conversation when my phone started buzzing in my pocket, cutting her short. I pulled it out and saw that the call was from Andy, the foreman at my ranch.
“Sorry, Tina, but Andy's calling. I have to take this. I'll catch you tomorrow, all right?”
Tina nodded. “See ya tomorrow, Chance; have a good evening.”
She turned and left the office, and I answered the call.
“Hey, Andy, what's up?”
“There's trouble at the ranch, Chance. You better get over here pronto.”
“Damn. What's going on?”
“The new foal, Starlight, she's got herself stuck in mud at the edge of the creek, and I can't get her out on my own. You know all the other hands are out tonight. I'm stuck here on my own.”
Starlight was going to be my daughter's horse one day, and I sure as hell wasn't going to let anything happen to her.
“How the hell did she get out of the stables at this hour?” I asked.
“That's what's buggin' the hell outta me, Chance. I think someone let her out.”
I was about to ask who the hell would do that, but I already had my suspicions, after the visit I'd just had from the Circle B man.
“Dammit. Look, just hold tight, keep her head above water, and I'll get there as fast as I can.”
“Thanks. But please, hurry; this foal is freaking out and she's strong. I'm already waist-deep in here trying to help her.”
“I'm on my way.”
I waved goodbye to Terry, my best friend and the current DJ on duty, through the glass and then ran out of the station to my truck. Since I'd only just picked it up from the dealership a few days ago, I fumbled with the keys trying to hit the right button. It was time to see how fast this turbocharged beast could go. I hopped in, cranked the motor, and then gave it a few revs. The deep, throaty note from the motor assured me the beast would be up to the task at hand. I threw it into gear and then roared down the road.
I reached my ranch in record time – just over half an hour for a journey that usually took nearly twice that time. It was a miracle I hadn’t been pulled over for speeding along the way. I knew where Starlight would be stuck, as we'd just had some heavy rains and down near the creek there were a number of big patches of mud. I raced down there and found Andy standing waist-deep in mud, trying to calm the struggling foal. I stripped off anything I didn’t want wet and ruined and waded in.
“Thank goodness you got here so soon,” Andy said, his weathered face looking particularly red from the effort of trying to hold Starlight still. He had worked for my father, and had spent his whole life on this ranch — all fifty-eight years of it — and was as much a part of the place as any of the buildings or barns. He was more than a ranch hand, he was family.
I pushed through the thick mud to Starlight and stroked her head and whispered reassuringly into her ears. Immediately, her wild eyes took on a calmer look, and her struggling subsided a bit.
“You always did have a way with animals, 'specially horses,” remarked Andy with a grin.
“You know how much I love my horses,” I responded. “All right, c'mon, let's get her outta this muck.”
We each wrapped our arms around her body and with a lot of effort and struggling, we managed to haul her out of the mud to the point where she was able to get a foothold on solid ground. Then, with a little more assistance, we got her out. Andy and I looked at each other, as we were both totally brown with mud, and we chuckled despite the intensity of what we'd just been through.
“Whew, that was something, wasn't it?” he remarked.
“Sure was, Andy; sure was. Good thing you found her when you did.”
“I was just out doing one of my night patrols, and I heard her crying. Good thing I did, yeah, good thing I did.”
“Let's get her cleaned up and back in the stables, and then we'll get ourselves cleaned up – and I think after that we're gonna need a bourbon or two.”
He chuckled.
“I ain't gonna say no to that. A bourbon or three, or four, maybe even five...”
“We'll see, old friend, we'll see. But on a serious note, we're gonna have to find out who let her out. If Circle B is behind this...”
Andy nodded his head.
“Things could get worse. They're snakes, the lot of 'em. And they ain't got no conscience, none at all. They'll force you off the land if they can, Chance. They want this land, an' they want it bad.”
I sighed and shook my head.
“I know Andy, I know. But you know how it is – this land was my father's, and his father's before him, down to the first of my ancestors who set foot on American soil – and I sure as hell ain't gonna let this ranch go without a fight. And one day this will all be Cassie's. It's her birthright, and I ain't gonna let nobody take that away from her.”
“And I've got your back, son; whatever those bastards try.., I've got your back.”
“Thanks, Andy. If there's one person I always knew I could count on, it's you. You know that.”
“I do, son, I do.”
“All right. Let's get Starlight and ourselves cleaned up and then we can get onto that bourbon we've been talkin' bout.”
“Bourbon! Hell yeah! Let's go Chance, let's go...”