Arizona Homecoming (14 page)

Then, Tucker spent a full minute nodding while he listened. Finally, he got to talk again.

“There’s horseback riding and a museum. I think you could even go on a gold-panning expedition.”

This time Donovan could hear the excited female tone.

“I’ll book you a room and see you tomorrow.” Ending the call, Tucker looked across at Donovan and said, “Well, that was unexpected. My daughter wants to come stay with me for a few weeks.”

“You’ll be in Apache Creek that long?”

“I purchased a home here back when I bought the Majestic. Then, I had some dealings in Maine. I got back about two weeks ago. I intend to stay for a while.”

“How old is your daughter?” Donovan knew that Tucker was older. But that didn’t mean he didn’t have a ten-year-old who now needed watching. The museum and gold panning were usually “just once” activities.

“She’s twenty-one and about to be a senior in college. We go through this every summer. She finishes up a session of summer school, gets offered the beach or Europe, and chooses to come stay with me wherever I am.”

“What about her mother?” Donovan asked before he really thought about how much he actually wanted to know about the man.

“She died when Betsy was four. I hired a nanny, one who could travel, and up until Betsy was in high school, she lived in thirteen different states while I worked.”

“What happened in high school?”

“I asked her where her favorite place we’d lived was. She said San Diego. We moved there, she went to school and I took a much-needed break.”

It was a side to Tucker Donovan hadn’t found during his internet research. The true test, of course, would be when Donovan met the daughter. Would she be like Olivia or would she be like Emily?

Donovan ordered. For a while, the two men talked about Apache Creek and the Superstition Mountains. Then, once the waitress cleared their table, Tucker took a blueprint from the seat beside him.

“These are just preliminary sketches. I’ve indicated where homes could go. I’ve also allotted more square feet per home. I think if you were willing to design each home so it blended with the background of the Superstitions, we could raise the asking price and make even more than if we simply did a development with multiple, similar houses.”

“When were you thinking of going forward with this project?”

“In the next month.”

Donovan shook his head. “Karl just received devastating news. I’m not willing to add to his distress. He might agree to sell to you now, but I’m not sure he wouldn’t later come to regret it.”

“I agree,” Tucker said, surprising Donovan. “I intend to find another half parcel. I’ll limit the number of houses to eight an acre, unless you have something else to suggest.” He tapped on the blueprint.

Sure enough, a half parcel had been loosely designed.

“And this is going to be a retirement community?”

“Yes. You’ll see that I’ve paid attention to—”

“Apache Creek doesn’t have a hospital.”

Tucker nodded. “Yet, each winter over a thousand snowbirds occupy the RV parks. The lack of a hospital hasn’t deterred seniors from making this a part-time home.”

“Your development might not cater to snowbirds.”

“True. Phoenix is next door. It’s not that much of a drive. How far did you have to drive to the hospital when you were growing up in Mytal, Nebraska?”

The hospital was down the road from the high school, over an hour away.

“You’ve spent some time researching me,” Donovan said.

“And I liked everything I found. I like even more what I’ve personally watched. Instead of sulking when the Baer job came to a halt and old Tate didn’t send you anywhere else, you immediately got a job on your own. And, if I’m not mistaken, it’s not the job or the Superstition Mountains that draw you to this area.”

Donovan wanted to say that nothing drew him to an area. He wasn’t the kind of guy who wanted to stay anywhere. There was too much to see. He’d have loved following his family to thirteen different locations while growing up.

“Emily Hubrecht is a lovely young lady.”

“Emily doesn’t think much of you,” Donovan said honestly.

“No, she doesn’t. But first impressions can change. Look, you left our meeting on Sunday giving me an ‘I’ll think about it.’ We’re talking a job that might take up to five years because I’ll probably buy another parcel. That’s how much I believe in this area.” Tucker handed over the blueprint. “Take it, look at it, play with it, make it your own. This meeting today, well, I’m hoping I’ve given you more to think about.”

Five years near Emily, without his job affecting Karl or the land on Ancient Trails Road?

Donovan didn’t hesitate this time. “I’m definitely interested.”

Chapter Fourteen

E
mily knew the exact moment Donovan entered Eva’s hospital room. It was as if the air changed, got fuller, more buoyant. She made herself more comfortable in the faux-leather green chair and tried to act nonchalant as he made his way to her side.

“I finished my meeting early,” he said.

“Baer going to start building again?” Jacob asked.

“I’m not sure, but I’ll tell you the minute I know.”

Emily refused to let that declaration ruin the mood she was in. “Come look.” She led Donovan over to a tiny crib where Naomi, oblivious to her surroundings, lay sleeping. “Eva says we can’t hold her for another hour.”

“She needs to sleep without being held or we’ll be holding her for the next three years,” Eva protested.

“I volunteer,” said Jacob.

Emily thought she’d never been more in love with her own father. “Were you like this with us?”

“Yes, he was,” Eva said. “I remember when you were born. I was a little older than Timmy. Mom was always telling him to let you sleep in the crib. She kept telling me the same thing, too. I’m going to grab one of the nurses and see if I can’t talk her into letting Timmy see Naomi. There has to be a way. We’ll stand behind glass or something. You,” she said to Emily, “had no rules concerning respiratory viruses. I think they even let Elise hold you, and she picked her nose!”

“I did not!”

“You were a beautiful baby,” Jacob said to Emily.

“You probably said that about all your daughters.” Jilly tucked a corner of the baby’s blanket so it more firmly cocooned her.

“You have children?” Emily asked. Sometimes she forgot that it had only been a year since Jilly purchased the old house just a mile from the ranch. Plus, these past few days she’d been so focused on the baby, on the museum and on Donovan, that figuring out what was going on between her father and Jilly had been more or less second thought.

“Some fool nurse,” Jacob said, “tried to instruct me on proper infant holding.”

“My husband died just a few months after we married. I’ve—” she smiled Jacob’s way “—not found anyone to compare in a long, long time.”

There were no places to sit. When Emily moved from her chair, Elise snagged it.

“Where’s Cooper?” Donovan asked.

“Down with Karl,” Eva answered. “Timmy’s there, too.”

“I’m glad you saw the news,” Elise said. “I hurried to his room and changed the channel. He’s grumbling about not getting to see it, but I told him he needs cheering up.”

“What is he watching?” Jilly asked.

“
Scooby Doo
with Timmy.”

“We could go down there and visit,” Emily offered. “Karl’s awake. He’ll get out tomorrow.”

“I’d like that,” Donovan said.

“We’re taking him to stay with us. He’ll sleep in Eva’s old room.”

“Please,” Eva urged her dad, “call it the guest room. I’m not moving back.”

Jacob sat up straight. “No, when Karl gets better and returns home, I’m turning it into a children’s room. Naomi will spend the night often because I’ll put in a crib. And then when you have little Jacob...”

“Hmmph.” Jesse lifted his head and turned to face his father-in-law. “We’re not promising to name the next one Jacob.”

“Next one?” Eva said.

Elise spoke up, “Cooper and I will name a son after you, Dad.”

“There will be nothing left for me,” Emily protested.

“Better get her downstairs and visiting Karl,” Jesse advised Donovan. “Once this family starts planning, you just might find yourself part of the plan whether you want it or not.”

Eva proved that she’d not forgotten the pillow-throwing wars from childhood. Jesse merely took the extra pillow, stuffed it under his head and closed his eyes.

Elise wound up accompanying them. Karl’s room wasn’t as crowded. Timmy sat on the bed playing checkers with Karl. Garrett slouched in a chair texting on his phone.

“Girlfriend,” Cooper mouthed from the other chair, where he’d been reading a magazine but now stood to give Elise the seat. He shot a look at Garrett, who immediately stood for Emily’s benefit.

Cooper and Elise exchanged a look.

“Timmy, are you guys about done with the game?”

“Oh,” Karl said, “I beat him soundly a good five minutes ago. We’re just practicing moves now.”

Elise sat on the edge of the bed. Cooper motioned for Garrett to end the texting.

“Karl, there’s no way to avoid this. You’ll be watching the news sometime this week and they’ll probably show some photos of Billy.”

“I know,” Karl said sadly. “They were on earlier today. He looked a lot like me.”

Elise and Cooper exchanged looks Emily interpreted as
all that worry for nothing
.

“You’re all right, then?”

“It was just the shock the first time. I just wasn’t expecting it. I guess I thought I’d never know. And to think, he was twenty-four and trying to come home. I hope they find whoever did this.”

Elise took his hand. “Me, too, Karl.”

“Let’s pray,” Cooper suggested.

Emily noted that Donovan looked a little surprised when she reached for one of his hands and Garrett reached for the other. But he bowed his head and seemed to listen intently as Cooper prayed for everyone involved, including whoever had buried Billy Wilcox.

“You hungry?” Emily asked Donovan after the prayer.

“I could eat.”

“Good.” Emily didn’t invite anyone else. It seemed sometimes as if she and Donovan were rarely alone. She wanted to be. If this thing with Karl and Billy was solved, her life would be back to perfect.

The hospital cafeteria was closed to a hot-meal option. There was, however, a convenience section. Emily chose bottled water, a packet of cookies, plus a salad and packet of ranch dressing.

“You didn’t take anything?” she accused. “You were hungry.”

“Maybe I was hungry for good company.”

She ate in silence, just enjoying his presence across from her. Others came in and sat at the tables nearby. Some were families with fear on their faces; others had joy. Now and then a single person came and sat. The doctors and nurses always seemed in a hurry.

“I like your family,” Donovan said when she’d finished the last bite.

“I like them, too.”

“I can see why you don’t want to work anywhere else.”

“I had a job offer a week ago,” she shared. “It was perfect. It was for the Native American Heritage Museum. I wouldn’t be curator, but I’d be an assistant.”

“You turned it down,” he guessed.

“Without hesitation. You saw my family. Not a chance do I want to live three states away next time Eva has a baby.”

“What if the person you loved lived three states away? I mean, would Eva follow Jesse if he asked her to?”

“You need to ask Jesse about his family. You’d need a crowbar to get him to move.”

“And that’s probably a good analogy for you, a crowbar to get you to move even if you fall in love with someone who couldn’t live in Apache Creek.”

“There’s a difference between couldn’t and wouldn’t,” Emily said. “It would depend a lot on who is giving up what and why.”

* * *

Donovan wanted to think he could live in Apache Creek forever. What he couldn’t share with Emily, though he wanted to, was that thinking about staying here for just five years felt restricting.

Yet he was absolutely willing to do it for her. He’d just like the reassurance that if an opportunity of a lifetime arose for him, she’d be willing to compromise.

But she owed him nothing and maybe didn’t have a clue how much he liked her.

“You know,” he said, “this past week has been pretty amazing.”

“Amazing,” she agreed.

“I’m just wondering if, maybe, you’d like to go out on a date, a real date. Dinner and a movie. This Friday?”

She opened her bag of cookies, divided them evenly between them and said, “I think I’d like that.”

He took a cookie, bit into it and said, “Chocolate chip, my favorite.”

“I didn’t know that. In fact, there’s a lot about you I don’t know. It’s really not fair. You know everything about me.”

He wasn’t ready to tell her about the debt he owed to Olivia’s father. Though, if he and Emily did go out a few more times, he’d need to tell her. Tucker’s offer sounded good, but Donovan couldn’t chance not paying Nolan Tate off.

“What do you want to know?” He hoped she’d ask something easy.

“Tell me more about your parents. I know you grew up on a dairy farm and never go back. Did you have any brothers or sisters? Why did you leave?”

“I left because I felt stifled. Except for school and an occasional night in town, my world began and ended on the farm. My mom and dad loved me, but there was just the three of us. They’d both been only children, too. My mom was in her early forties when I was born, so I had no grandparents or cousins or siblings.”

She smiled. “Just wait until you meet my family in the Kykotsmovi Village. I’ve known them forever but there are so many, I sometimes say the wrong name.”

“Your family is like a whole different world to me.”

“Tell me about your dad,” she suggested.

He thought back to all the years he’d worked alongside his dad to keep the farm going. He remembered early mornings when he’d bring the cows into the holding area and guide them to the right stall. Next, he helped with prepping the udder before putting the milkers on. His dad had often reminisced about when he did the milking by hand. The only thing Donovan remembered was attaching the metal pipes to the teats, over and over, one cow to the next, in an assembly line.

“My dad listened to classical music while we milked the cows.”

“That’s a start,” Emily encouraged.

Olivia had once asked about his family, but within minutes he’d lost her.

“At the peak of my father’s career, we had almost a thousand Holsteins, and we employed five. The most important time of day is morning milking, followed by afternoon milking.”

To Donovan’s surprise, Emily listened intently, interrupting only twice to question him. She liked that he called the cows “girls” and scolded him for appreciating school only because it meant he didn’t have to help with the cleanup after morning milking.

“How many Holsteins does your dad have now?”

“I think—” it pained him to admit he wasn’t sure “—that he’s down to about forty-two.”

Now, Donovan sent money to his parents so they could pay someone to work the farm. The first check he’d sent six years ago came back inside a folded piece of notebook paper with the words, scrawled by his father’s hand, “The farm has been in the family for almost seventy years and was meant for you to work it.” His mother, however, had sent a note thanking him for thinking of them, telling him how the tomato plants were doing and sharing a few stories about one of the new calves.

Four years ago, Donovan’s dad, Raymond Russell, stopped returning the checks and cashed them. Plus, his handwritten scrawls turned to “Call your mother once in a while.”

Two years ago, engaged to Olivia, Donovan had been sending quite a bit. Now, not so much. His debt to Nolan Tate interfered.

“What does the farm look like?”

That he could answer without feeling like a heel. He loved the home he’d grown up in. “My family’s only the second owner of a 1906 structure with a double winged-gable roof and original hardwood floors. It has personality. Some of my favorite moments growing up involved working alongside my dad doing restoration. Only, he called it repairs.”

And with that the good memories tumbled forward. “I was itching to ride the hay wagon with your dad this past Saturday. I used to love to ride ours during baling.” Emily didn’t seem too impressed with that one, but her eyes lit up when he talked about sledding.

“Problem was,” he ended, “I did all those things alone. When I went off to college, I think my biggest dream was to never be alone again.”

“But you travel from place to place alone and live in a small camper alone.”

“Yes, but until recently, it didn’t feel lonely.”

* * *

Looking around the cabin the next morning, Donovan came to the conclusion that he was already moved in. Clothes were strewed across chairs. Tucker’s blueprints were on the kitchen table. All his electronics, phone and iPad were plugged in. Change, gum wrappers, keys and a few paper clips were on the nightstand.

Today he needed to work on Tinytown. He had quite a few ideas, already expanding from the quick outline he’d shared with Jacob more than a week ago.

If—and it was a really big if—he decided to work for Randall Tucker, he needed to figure in time to work on Tinytown, or Timmy and Emily might never forgive him.

Sitting at the table, he turned Tucker’s blueprints over. He’d not be using them. If the man did hire him, Donovan had his own ideas about what a community here should look like. Quickly, he arranged Tinytown, thinking about what would make Timmy happy and what extras would be affordable and unique. Before Donovan knew it, he was in danger of missing breakfast. He rolled the blueprint up, tucked it under his arm and took a slow, meandering walk to the dining room.

So much potential.

He filled his plate before he sat down. Emily waved at him from across the room, where she was giving advice to a couple he’d not seen before. They must have arrived yesterday. Then, she came over and handed him a big glass of milk before he even ordered it.

“I head off to work after I finish serving breakfast. I’ll be back about four thirty. Tonight’s church. Why don’t you come with me?”

A million reasons why he shouldn’t went through his head. Followed by a single thought of why he should.

Emily invited him.

“I’ll think about it.”

“That’s a better answer than last time I asked.”

Timmy came in, sat down next to him and nodded at the blueprints. “Can I see?”

Emily brought over a glass of milk for Timmy and said, “Get breakfast first. When you’re done, Grandpa says he needs some help down at the barn.”

Timmy sighed. “I wish Dad would come home. Grandpa keeps putting me to work. I never get to play video games except at night when I’m in Karl’s room.”

“Karl getting out today?” Donovan asked.