Page 11 of When It Reins (Three Rivers Trevors Ranch #5)

juniper

It’s funny how you think life is going so well, and then you find out that your boyfriend is a dirty, rotten liar.

After I left the clubhouse, I went straight home and ignored David’s phone calls. It’s not that I’m scared to talk to him. I just don’t know what I want to say yet, and the fact that this whole town seems to know more about him than I do just solidifies that I never really knew him at all.

It hurts.

Maybe we’ve only been together for a few months, maybe I never even really felt that deeply for him, but it still hurts to know he lied. And if I am being honest, it hurts to know that I fell for it so easily.

Which was why, first thing the next morning, here I am, stalking the neighborhood that is supposedly being sold off to some big company and evicting its residents with no notice.

I don’t know exactly what I am going to do here, other than see it for myself.

It is an older place, with cracked asphalt roads, overgrown weeds in areas, and broken-down chain-link fenced yards.

But then there are trees that look sixty or more years old.

There are the painted mailboxes with little handprints, the kids that are playing street hockey down the road.

This is a community. Whether it is sparkly and shiny or not, it is a home for a lot of people.

My stomach churns as I park and get out, looking up and down the road. I pull my coat tighter and look to the first house I see, walking to the front door, and knocking.

An older man who looks like he’s seen better days answers the door, looking me up and down in a way I don’t feel great about, but I smile and give him my best professional voice.

“Good morning, sir. How are you doing?”

“What do you want?” His voice is rough with age and judgment passing, probably years of smoking.

“I’m here to inquire about a certain company coming through this community, offering to buy out houses?”

“Yeah, what about it?” He shakes his finger at me. “I’m not giving the money back.”

“Money?” I ask, a furrow to my brow.

“Yeah, money. Company came and gave me a check, bought my house outright.” He scratches his chest, and I keep my eyes trained on his. “Says I can live here for free.”

My weird, twisted heart springs with some kind of hope. “Really? So they don’t want to keep the house for themselves?”

“What would they do with this piece of shit?” he asks, as if not expecting an answer, then says, “If you work for them, tell them I’m not giving it back, and I’m not going anywhere.”

He steps back without waiting for a reply from me and slams the door in my face.

Pleasant. I take the rough and broken steps back down the long path and stand on the sidewalk, my gaze roaming from house to house. So their company was buying the houses and…leaving them alone?

It is a selfless thing to do if that is true, just taking care of people who probably have a hard time taking care of themselves.

But something in my gut said that isn’t what is going on here, as much as I would like to believe it.

Movement out of the corner of my eye catches my attention, and I turn to see someone sweeping their porch. It is one of the nicer homes on the street, with a well-manicured lawn, some potted flowers on either side of her driveway, and a newly painted house.

I feel my feet take me in that direction before I can fully decide to and notice the woman’s head turn away from me before our eyes connect.

Something tells me she knows what was going on, what is happening to this community, and I know I’m not getting any more answers out of Belly-Scratch.

She seems to hurry her movements the closer I get, and I increase my steps, wanting to speak to her before she can slam a door in my face.

Her hand grasps the handle as I get closer, and I call out a friendly, “Hello!”

Her movements pause, and if I’m not mistaken, her shoulders dip in defeat. Turning to me, her shrewd, powerful blue eyes latch on mine. “What do you want?”

“I’m not here to sell you anything.” I swallow, holding out my hand and giving her a kind smile. “I’m Juniper. I live in Acton.”

Her eyes take me in and recognition sparks. “You’re that singer.”

I feel a blush working its way over my cheeks but nod, taking the comment. “Yes. I sing at mine and my sisters’ bar sometimes.”

The woman’s tense posture seems to ease, and I decide to forge on. Maybe I could get along with her because she knows I am local. “What are you doing here?”

“Well…” I lick my lips and look over her house. “I heard some rumors about houses getting sold here.”

“And?”

Boy, she wasn’t going to give me anything without me having to straight up ask it.

“Well…” I decide honesty is the only way to get her to trust me, so I just go for it. “The rumors kind of involve the man I was seeing—well, am seeing.” I swallow, feeling the bitter taste of the truth slide down my throat. I know the feeling in my gut isn’t wrong, but I really would like it to be.

“I’m trying to see if there’s truth to what I’m hearing. That he may not be who I think he is…” I trail off, hating the look of pity that fills the woman’s eyes.

She lets out a sigh and her entire demeanor shifts. Maybe recognizing that she can trust me and what I’m saying is true. “Come on in, Juniper. I’m Rosemary.”

Rosemary’s home is clean and neat. Very tidy with limited knickknacks and things on the walls. Normally, when I picture older ladies’ homes, I think of things like figurines and wallpaper, but not this home.

Her walls are bare of any family photos, which I found odd, but I didn’t want to pry into her personal business.

She went about making us tea. Even though tea is my least favorite drink, I would drink every drop if she was doing me a kindness by humoring my questions. I listen to her humming in the kitchen and smile, taking a look out her back door and seeing a small but up kept lawn.

“You really take nice care of your home,” I say, settling into the seat she gestures toward and accepting the tea.

“If I don’t take pride in where I live, then why live at all,” is her reply. Not a question, but a statement.

“That’s fair,” I reply, going for light and easy. Rosemary doesn’t strike me as the light and easy type. She looks like someone who doesn’t want to be crossed and would take you out with her needlepoint if you did cross her.

Not that I know if she does needlepoint or not, but still, I wasn’t about to try to trick this woman.

“So, this guy you were seeing…” She raises a brow. “Or are seeing. He not giving you any answers?”

“If I’m honest.” I bite my lip, the tip of my finger running over the rim of my teacup. “I haven’t gained the courage to ask.”

She eyes me, and I’m once again struck by her blue eyes. They complement her blonde hair that is turning gray perfectly, and I have a thought that she must have been a stunner when she was young. Heck, she is one right now.

A hum escapes her throat, and she gives a little nod of her head. “I see. Scared to lose your boyfriend?”

I tilt my head, wondering about that myself.

I don’t like that the feelings I am having don’t point toward that, but more of what an idiot I am for believing him in the first place.

How I could have placed trust in him, let him hold and touch me and be with him, and not know what kind of man he truly is?

“I don’t know.” I shrug, being far more vulnerable with this woman, a mere stranger, than I am with my own family. “I guess I need the answers to my questions before I can worry about any of that.”

Rosemary takes a sip of her tea and sighs.

“Well, then I’ll tell you. Some company by the name of Biller Holdings wants to come in here and buy houses.

They’re telling residents that they’re doing it for the good of the community, kind of taking over the loans for the bank, is what they’re saying.

” Rosemary shakes her head. “Except, I know that the Rawlings didn’t leave of their own accord.

Those are the neighbors down the road,” she explains when she sees my confusion.

“They got a lien bought out and got evicted. Wanna guess who paid their unpaid taxes?”

“Biller Holdings,” I murmur, and somehow, hearing the words I knew were going to come from her didn’t lessen the sting.

“Yes, honey. Biller Holdings has a contract with one of those big box stores, and they want to put it right here.” She points to her kitchen table. “I won’t let them.”

I frown. “But how would you even go about stopping that?”

“What are they going to do? Demolish an old lady?” She waves a hand.

“I’m trying to get the community together and get them to not sell out.

They don’t all understand what’s happening.

Some have already signed off on things, being told it’s for something else and not reading the fine print.

Then there are the ones that didn’t get around to paying those taxes and now are being evicted. ”

“Those poor families,” I say, running a finger over my brow. I can’t imagine just trying to live life and then getting the rug pulled out from under you because you didn’t pay a tax.

“Yup. Some have family they left to live with, but I know one family’s over at the shelter, trying to figure it out.”

My heart breaks hearing the words, and my eyes fill with tears. I have no right to feel this way, but how could I have not known this is what David’s company is doing?

“Honey, tears won’t fix it.” Rosemary pats my hand, and I feel another wave of sadness hit me. My mom used to say the same thing whenever us girls would get upset over something.

“I’m sorry. I just feel awful.”

“Well…” Rosemary sits back in her chair and lets out a great sigh. “There’s not much us civilians can do.” Something passes over her expression, but I don’t stop to wonder what she’s thinking because my brain’s already rapidly firing.

“What if the owners could pay the lien off first?” My brain starts to come up with ideas, and I feel my first bit of hope rise to the surface.

“If they could afford it, they would have already.” Rosemary shakes her head and takes a sip of tea. “They just can’t afford it.”

“But we could help them, couldn’t we?” I stand, starting to pace the little area in her house as I think. “We could hold some sort of charity function, proceeds go to paying off the liens so these people can get their homes back.”

Rosemary frowns at me. “And why would you do that? Because you feel guilty?”

I stop, turning to the woman, and sigh. “Yes. I do. I feel guilty that I had no idea what he was doing, but you’re right. Tears don’t help. We need a plan of action.”

“I don’t know why people would donate funds.”

“They wouldn’t have to be donating anything,” I say, my brain clicking with ideas. “They would pay for something great and the proceeds of that would go toward the lien. They’d be helping out their neighbors but not losing anything in the process.”

Rosemary sits back and looks at me, a confused but intrigued look on her face. “Why would you do all of this?”

“Because,” I say, grabbing my coat. “I’m responsible for some of this, and now that I know the truth, I’m going to help get these people their homes back.”

“And what about the boyfriend?”

I pause, unsure of what to say. I couldn’t be with someone like that, couldn’t stand living with the way he made his money, by kicking people out of their homes and buying the liens they couldn’t afford.

No, David and I are done. I just have to find the right time to end it.

“I’ll think of something.”