Solomon's Decision (14 page)

Harry tapped his gavel. "That's enough, folks. Let's let Charlie have his say."

"Well, now, all I wanted to do was take some of the burden off you ladies,"
Charlie said, his tone appeasing. "As the elected officials of Sunset County, I felt we
commissioners ought to consider offering the county's resources to help you out."

"Exactly what resources are you thinking about?"

Madeline craned her neck to see who had sounded so skeptical, but there were too
many tall people between her and him.

"These fine folks don't have a stage, or much seating out there at the City Park,"
Charlie said, "so I thought we'd make the rodeo arena at the Fairgrounds available. Of
course, we'd have to charge a moderate rent, but I don't see why it couldn't be added onto
the concert tickets. And I'd be proud to open the old ore facility to parking, for a small use
fee. Now, if you ladies need more storage for your ice cream," he nodded at Amelia and
Madeline, in turn, "we've got a big walk-in freezer at the Conestoga House. And you're
welcome to use the kitchen, too, of course."

"How much do you think we should charge for the use of the grandstand,
Charlie?" Amelia sounded almost friendly. Madeline couldn't believe she was going along
with Charlie. The Wednesday Club provided more social and civic support to Sunset
County than any other organization. If the county couldn't donate the fairgrounds for
something as beneficial to as a Trace Pickett concert, she was going to vote for some new
commissioners, come election day.

"Oh now, let me figure." Charlie stroked his chin. "I'd guess about two dollars a
ticket would be about right."

"Ahuh." Harry nodded. "And parking on your property?"

"Well, I just couldn't afford to hire me one of those street sweepers and mend the
fence for less than about five dollars a car." He said it as if he were doing the county a
favor.

"For God's sake!" Open-mouthed, Bob Wolfe stared at Charlie.

"I suppose you'd charge for the storage space in your freezers?" Amelia said, still
mildly.

Charlie shook his head, looking as innocent as the day he was born. "Oh, I don't
think so. After all, it's for a good cause."

"Let me get something straight, Charlie," Harry said. "What exactly would be the
reason the county would need to charge for use of the Fairgrounds?"

"Upkeep, Harry. All those people, they'd be real hard on the facility. And
improvements. Why, if this is a success, we could look at doin' it again. Get us a famous
performer in here every summer. The ladies could go on with the ice cream part of the
Social, but we'd want to contract with a real carnival--rides and all--and probably some
more experienced caterers. After all, we can't expect our good ladies to feed ten thousand
people every summer, can we?"

Madeline sat open mouthed, not really believing what she'd been hearing. She was
conscious of a growing buzz of conversation all around her. Before she could tune in, the
gavel silenced everyone again.

"Mr. Chairman, may I speak?" Erik was standing in the front row, looking totally
at ease.

Harry waved permission.

"Thank you. I spoke to Commissioner Bittenbusch earlier and so I had an idea of
what he planned to propose. Right afterward I called Trace Pickett and asked for an
elaboration of the terms under which he will appear at the Social."

The silence was complete. "Trace will not perform if the tickets are priced higher
than ten dollars each, and he will not perform in a facility for which the sponsoring
agency--the Wednesday Club, in this case--is charged a fee. He prefers to perform in a
park or other open area." Madeline would swear he'd winked at her. "Furthermore, he will
not give interviews locally, but will allow an interview to be aired on Boise television as
part of the promotion for the concert."

"Well, I guess that settles the question of the fairgrounds," Harry said. "And I
don't think the question of how much help the Wednesday Club needs is the Commission's
business." He lifted the gavel.

"Just a minute, Harry," Bob said. "I'd like to suggest one condition. If, within a
year, NWT fails to raise the rest of the funds to purchase Wounded Bear Meadow, the
county receives twenty percent of the take from the concert, to be used for upgrading the
clinic."

Amelia waved her hand. "I'll second that motion."

"Is that gonna cause a problem, Erik?"

Erik shook his head. "It's not going to happen."

"Okay then. All in favor?" Harry silently counted his way around the table. "Four
in favor. You opposed, Charlie?"

Frowning, Charlie shook his head. "What about next year?"

"Let's get through this year's Social first," Harry said. "Any other business?"

No one spoke.

"Okay. We're adjourned. Let's get back to work." Harry pushed back from the
table and picked up his crutches. "Linnie, I'd like to talk to you." He gestured her ahead of
him and followed her to her office.

Once the door was closed, he said, "I'm going to exceed my authority, girl. But
you'll thank me for it."

"I will?"

"You sure will. I want you to take from now until after the Social off."

"Harry, I can't." She really couldn't. Just last week she'd learned that the roof on
her house wasn't good for another winter. "I can't afford to take unpaid leave, and the twins
and I--"

"Yes, you can. I'm gonna put you on my own payroll. Call it my contribution to
the Social." He reached out and rumpled her hair, just as he'd often done when she tagged
along with Steve and Jesse. "You know Amelia can't do it alone. There's a whale of a lot of
work to do between now and then, Linnie, and I don't want you wearin' yourself out."

"Thanks, Harry. I'll do it." Madeline enveloped him in a big hug. "You're a pretty
nice man, you know that?"

"And you're a nice little lady." He dropped his crutches to squeeze back. "Let me
know if there's anything else you need. I always have a man or two I can spare in a
pinch."

Madeline spent the rest of the day briefing Eddie and her secretary on what had to
be done while she was off work. Fortunately, except for dealing with the consultants
investigating the Styx Valley mine property, there was nothing they couldn't cope with or
postpone until her return. And the consultants could be put off too. She'd spent enough of
her time at their beck and call lately.

* * * *

It was a good thing Harry had told her to take time off, because otherwise she'd
have found precious little time for sleep. Ever since Erik's announcement that Trace Pickett
would perform at the Fourth of July Social in Garnet Falls, she'd done nothing but talk,
talk, talk. To committee chairs, to suppliers, to people whose help they desperately needed,
to local merchants, most of whom were concerned that their stocks were too low to supply
the thousands of tourists who would arrive next Saturday, while at the same time being
certain that all those outsiders would create chaos in their sleepy little town.

The best and worst part of the past few days had been working closely with Erik.
She didn't know what she would have done without him, despite Amelia's sudden
competence and willingness to do her share. He'd thought of a million things she would
never have dreamed of, kept her calm in the face of uncooperative suppliers, and made her
laugh when the whole world seemed determined to frustrate her.

The novelty supplier had called the day the shipment was due to arrive, with the
unpleasant new that they would be closed the week of the Fourth and would be unable to
put together a shipment of the size the Women's Club needed. "Someone's just going to
have to go get them," she'd said calmly, wanting to scream instead.

"I'll take care of it," Erik said.

She knew he would.

When a usually dependable club member called to say she wouldn't be able to
freeze the four gallons of ice cream she'd volunteered to do, Erik picked the phone out of
Madeline's hand before she could explode. She didn't know how he'd done it, but he'd
managed to talk the woman into making the ice cream anyway, before she went off on an
unplanned visit to her sister in Seattle.

But the best of all had been the way he'd handled Charlie.

"Charlie, I've got a great deal for you," Erik said, leaning back in the plush booth
and turning on his charm full power. "The Social Committee will guarantee cleanup of
your ore facility before and after the Fourth, if you'll agree to waive any charge for
parking."

Madeline hadn't been down to the old ore facility since she was a kid, not until
that morning, when she and Erik had slipped through the break in the fence and walked
around. Other than the abandoned tipple, looming near the equally abandoned railroad
tracks, it was a vast, empty space, level and covered with an inches-deep layer of crushed
copper ore. Litter had blown against the chain link fence and empty beer and pop cans lay
here and there across its emptiness. It would make an ideal parking lot. She had no idea of
how to judge capacity, but it looked bigger than any supermarket lot she'd seen
anywhere.

"I don't rightly see how I can do that. It just ain't good business," Charlie opined,
finally.

Erik sat relaxed, but she felt his contained energy. It was as if he had enough to
sweep the whole world along in his wake, leading them to new places and new
experiences. Did he affect everyone this way, or was she the only one?

"You know," he said, as if it didn't matter either way to him, "up at the Kingdome
in Seattle, people might be willing to pay five dollars to park. I don't think they'd like it too
well here in Garnet Falls."

After thought, Charlie said, "I could go as low as two and a half. But that's my
best offer. I've got a right to make a decent profit from the use of my land." He had that
mulish expression on his face that meant he was finished talking. Madeline had seen it
enough times when he'd stonewalled commission decisions.

"Oh, come on, Charlie. You're not making any profit on the lot as it sits." Erik sat
back while the waitress refilled his cup. Charlie waited, too. Madeline just watched.

Erik sipped.

Charlie fidgeted.

Finally, setting his cup down, Erik leaned forward. "We've talked to the school
district and they'll lease us their busses next week."

"What are you gonna do with them?"

"We sort of thought we'd route people up to Backwater Creek to park, then bus
them down here for the concert." It was the first she'd heard of such a far-fetched plan.
Backwater Creek, an abandoned mining town, didn't have an acre of level ground
anywhere around. Erik's hand squeezed hers under the table and Madeline bit back her
astonishment.

"But that's ten miles!" Charlie looked as astonished as she felt.

"Well, yes, we know that. But we figure people would rather park free up there
and be bussed down than pay five dollars to park at the ore facility."

Charlie hemmed and hawed. "I was just trying to recover my expenses of cleaning
up the place."

"Of course you were," Erik agreed. "But if the Committee sees that it's returned to
its pre-Social state, you won't have to worry about that." He smiled, and Madeline
wondered if even Charlie could resist.

He couldn't. After a suitable wait, so as not to seem too easy, Charlie said. "Oh,
hell. You win. Use it for nothin'." He stood and looked down at Erik, his expression sour.
"But there'd better not be so much as one beer can in there come July fifth, or I'm gonna
have me some words with the Commission about a license fee for the Social next
year."

"Make that the sixth. You don't want the volunteers out there in the dark, trying to
clean up, do you?"

Charlie snorted, but his nod was all the agreement Erik seemed to need. As soon
as he was out of earshot, Madeline turned to Erik. "How could you tell all those lies? The
Committee didn't...."

He put one finger against her lips and again Madeline had the insane urge to kiss
it, or maybe nibble it. "Later," he said, in a voice so full of promise she almost melted,
right there in a red plush booth.

Later, Madeline challenged him about his lies again.

"Lies? I'd prefer to say I anticipated the Committee's actions." He smiled at her
this time, and she was ready to follow him anywhere--as usual.

"What do you mean?"

"If the Committee had acted on the problem, wouldn't they have refused to allow
Charlie to extort five dollars a car for parking."

"Well, yes. We've never had anyone charge for parking at the Social before."
They'd never needed to. The Fairgrounds had accommodated all the cars in the past.

"Well, then, I merely took a shortcut. Nobody on the Committee has time to meet
about something so minor as parking, and I saved them the inconvenience."

She had to look twice to make sure there weren't canary feathers all around his
mouth. "And the school busses?"

"That was legitimate. I had breakfast with the principal of the high school. He
mentioned that the school district would be amenable to renting their busses, if we needed
them."

Madeline gave up. The bottom line was that he'd outwitted Charlie in a matter of
money. Not many people in Sunset County managed to do that.

* * * *

The last weekend before the Social was too full, too busy. Madeline went out to
the ranch and helped Janine make six batches of ice cream. "Only one more week," she
promised Abby and Ginger as she tucked them into their beds Sunday night. "And yes, you
can eat all the ice cream you can hold." Abby had been disappointed when Janine had
refused to let her have thirds this evening. Madeline was certain that her niece could eat a
whole quart of home made ice cream if allowed to. Ginger was almost as bad.

"Mama, can we come to town the night before?" Ginger's drowsy voice had a
lonely sound to it.

Madeline was immediately overcome with guilt. "No, honey," she said, smoothing
the child's black hair from her forehead. "I'll be as busy as a one-armed paper hanger all
day."