Truth or Consequences

Chapter 10: Don't Count Your Chickens

Do not count your chickens before they are hatched. -Aesop

Drake runs a hand through his thick curly hair.

Holy cow, he really has nice hair.

He rolls closer to me, grabbing the arms of my chair.

Attempting to scoot away, I glimpse between Mr. Crawford and Drake, shrinking back into the leather.

"If you leave, everything your grandfather worked for, that I've worked for, will have been for nothing. If I . . . if we lose the land, they'll sell the horses or slaughter them. The Algato ruins will go unprotected, leaving them vulnerable to robbery or leveling for development. There'll be no one left who cares about this piece of New Mexico heritage, your heritage, and mine. Do you understand?"

"Until yesterday, I didn't even know I had a family connection in New Mexico, much less a grandfather." His words strike a chord. "I'm sorry, but I don't belong here."

"I've lived at the ranch since I was a boy. It's my home."

"I have a life back in Texas you're asking me to give up."

"If you don't stay, then I lose everything. How the hell is that any different?"

"That's not fair, and you know it. Now, let go of my chair."

Gripping his right wrist, I push on his hand until my knuckles turn white. I let go and pry his index finger off the arm of the chair. The tip is rough and calloused.

He relinquishes his hold and encases my hand in his. His grip is firm but gentle.

"Wait, a minute. Isn't your major archeology?" Crawford thumbs through some papers.

"Yes. With an emphasis on the lost civilizations of Mesoamerica."

Drake raises a brow. "What, in college?"

I yank my hand free of his grasp. "Well. It sure as hell isn't high school." Who does he think he is? Oh, please, let this day end and soon.

"What're you, seventeen or eighteen?"

"No, I'm not. Can you be any more sexist? Wait. Don't respond. I'm sure I know the answer to that."

"You've got one hell of a smart mouth."

"Well, you know, I am in college!"

Mr. Crawford clears his throat. "May I have your attention, please, both of you?"

I stew over Drake's words and focus on regrouping my thoughts. "What's my major have to do with anything, Mr. Crawford?"

"I've connections at the local college."

"That's nice, but you're not listening to the words coming out of my mouth. I don't want to live here. You couldn't pay me enough."

"As I said, we can go back to Texas and file a motion." Stephen walks back into the room.

"Are you always this stubborn?" Drake's words are as soft as a whisper.

"We could fly back today, and you'd be in your own bed tonight." Stephen slips paperwork into his briefcase.

"Excuse me." I place a hand on Drake's chest and push him away. "I know you're not addressing me. But if you are, you're sure as hell one to talk."

"You could transfer and do your coursework on an unexcavated site," says Mr. Crawford. "Think about the benefits. The results could be profound."

"Oh, my God, have all of you lost your freaking mind? Wait. What site?"

"Damn it, Larry. You know the caves of Algato are no place for someone like her."

"What do you mean someone like me? You don't know me. Who do you think you are? In case you haven't noticed, I can and will decide for myself. I don't need you, Stephen, or anyone else telling me what I can or can't do. Actually, from what I'm hearing, you need me more than I need you." The images of the horses Mr. Crawford provided flood my thoughts and trample upon my heart. "After all, I have a home I can go back to that isn't contingent on the warped provisions of this will. What do you have if I leave?" God, if I leave, what'll become of the horses living in the sanctuary? What'll happen to the ranch - to the ruins? Plus, where would I live? With the Boyds?

"All right. Perhaps we're going about this all wrong." Drake's voice softens a bit.

"We - what? Do you have a mouse in your pocket?"

"I don't want to argue."

"Good, that makes two of us."

"I propose an observation period," says Mr. Crawford.

I lean forward. "An observation period?"

"I object." Stephen reaches for me, but I move out of his grasp. "We need to talk in private."

"We're not in court. So, object all you want. And for the record, we won't be talking in private." I roll my eyes out of frustration, then turn to Mr. Crawford. "What did you mean?"

"Before you decide, spend a bit of time out on the property? Then if you still want to leave, I'll drive you to the airport myself." Mr. Crawford clasps his hands together in front of him. "If it makes the decision any easier, Drake leaves for a two-week trip soon."

"Wait. Why does he get to leave? And I have to stay? How is that fair?"

"The will allows the heirs to travel for work-related business."

"Well, I don't see how attending school outside of the state is any different from him conducting business."

"Attending your current school requires you to reside outside of the state for most of the year and is not one of the exemptions covered under the will." Mr. Crawford takes a sip of water. "Think of it this way. You'd have time out on the ranch alone to decide."

"That's a bad idea." Stephen places a hand on my shoulder. "Thanks for the offer, Mr. Crawford, but we'll be leaving today. My office will be in touch with you. Come on, Danny." He stands and buckles his briefcase.

"That's not advisable," says Mr. Crawford. "If you leave New Mexico soil, you'll forfeit not only your claim to the property but everything Drake and your grandfather worked for, too."

Drake scoots forward, sitting on the edge of his chair. His leg brushes against mine. The warmth of his body permeates through the denim he's wearing. "Danny, please," he whispers the words. "I'm asking you to give it a try, please."

Closing my eyes, I bite down on my lip. When my grandmother said not to be afraid of change, is this what she meant? Is this the door that will open a new chapter in my life?

I cradle my head. Warm hands encase my wrists.

A small sob escapes my lips. Opening my eyes, I come face to face with Drake.

"Larry is right," Drake says. "I'll be leaving soon, and I've more than enough work to keep me busy until then. You won't even know I'm there."

"I can leave at any time, right?" My heart pounds in my chest.

"Yes." Drake releases my hands, then leans back. "No one will stop you if you choose to leave. I give you my word."

"Does that mean you're staying?" Mr. Crawford cracks a wide smile.

"Yes." The single word rattles around in my head.

Oh, my God, I can't believe I just agreed to stay. What the hell am I saying, much less thinking?

"Danny, this is not advisable. We need to talk about this in private."

"No, Stephen, that's where you're wrong. We don't need to talk, especially not in private. The land doesn't only affect me. There're other factors to take into consideration."

Stephen clenches his jaws. "This isn't a good idea. We can take this to the courts."

"Miss Herrington," Mr. Crawford interrupts, "I'd be more than happy to arrange for your belongings at the hotel to deliver to the ranch."

"Danny, as your attorney and close friend, I feel you need to stop and think about what you're saying."

I bite back a scoffing laugh. "Close friend." Who does he think he is? "Okay, Mr. Crawford, I'll stay, but under one condition."

"Which is?" Drake and Mr. Crawford ask at the same time.

"Neither of you will pressure me any further. I need the time and space to form my own opinion. Are you good with that?"

Drake nods.

"Fair enough. Shall we have your items picked up from the hotel and delivered?" Mr. Crawford asks.

"No. I can pack up my stuff if we swing by there."

I can't believe I agreed to stay.

The words are foreign to my ears. All I can think is, what kind of mess have I gotten myself into this time? I can't help feeling that I'm exchanging one crazy lunatic for another. But, at least, he'll be leaving, and I'll have time to myself.

That's something I don't even have back home. Not even in my dorm room. Plus, it would be nice to find out something about my family. I pull my chair closer to the table and listen to Mr. Crawford and Drake talk.

"I must object. You don't know these people. I'm your attorney, and I've got your best interest at heart. If you're going to stay, and honestly, I think that would be the wrong decision, I'd feel better if you had someone with you, someone you could count on. Someone you can trust."

Stephen slides his hand over my knee, then down my bare leg.

The contact makes me jump. Pushing away from the table, I collide with Drake's chair.

"Stop it." I pull my legs up sideways to avoid Stephen's touch.

"Someone she can count on. You mean someone like you." Drake stops the momentum of my chair.

"I'm worried about your safety. I want what's best for you." Stephen hovers.

Drake leans back in his chair. "You're full of shit."

"Things could get rough out there," says Stephen. "Plus, you're used to much better."

"Stop it." I raise my hands. "Please, just stop it."

"Stop what, caring about you?" He takes my hand in his. "I can't do that."

I recoil from his touch and stand. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. I've had enough."

Stephen narrows his eyes. "I'm only trying to look out for your . . ."

"For my best interest, yes, you've already said that." A tremor makes my shoulders shake.

"Her interest, or your own?" Drake swivels around, keeping his eyes locked on Stephen.