I'm Not Lisa Ch. 07-09

Chapter 7 Decision Time

Tim was of two minds when we went to see him Tuesday morning. He was dealing with an old friend and two employees, and his needs were conflicted. He wished us happiness and jumped up the give me a hug and Rance a hearty handshake. But in truth, he was disappointed that he would lose his old army buddy and his head of security. He would need to find a competent replacement. Still, the two men had gone through a lot together, and whether Rance was here or in Colorado, they would remain close friends.

Rance had contacted Brent "Buster" Rhimes, another army friend whom he had met in Landstuhl, also recovering from wounds. Brent had lost a leg, and wondered what he would do with himself when he was released. He had joined the army to learn a trade, but the only trade he learned was killing people. He was smart enough to take advantage of the rehab training programs offered, but he had yet to find something that satisfied him. Currently, he was a security guard at a shopping mall.

"I called Buster today," Rance told me at lunch. We had resumed our noon hour habit, but with a totally different atmosphere.

"He's got some time off comin', so I'm goin' to bring him up here for an interview. I'm hopin' he can do the job. I think he's got what it takes."

"And if he can't?"

"I guess I'll have to go the usual way ... search party."

"That will take some time," I said. "Where is he?"

"Reno, Nevada. Would you have someone get a plane ticket for him, please?" He passed me a single page with Mr. Rhimes' details on it. "He can get a couple of days off, so make whatever arrangements work for him. I don't want him havin' problems with his employer if it doesn't work out."

This was another side of Rance I had seen before: the thoughtful man, looking at all eventualities.

I had something else on my mind. "I think you should talk to Doreen. See if you're okay with her."

"Yeah. Can you make an appointment? I'll make sure I'm available.

Doreen jumped at the chance for my job, but she was just as full of questions about where I was going. I wasn't about to tell her everything, since it would be around the office in a flash. I needed Rance to give her the speech about security and what that means to her if she took the job.

"I'm not interviewing you. Rance is."

"Rance? Holy shit, Julie. Rance himself?"

"Yes. So be prepared," I chuckled.

"Oh ... I'd better take a Valium."

"Relax, girl. He won't do you any harm ... physically anyway. But he will want to let you know just what the job is all about. I can fill you in on the details afterwards."

"Okay, Julie. If you say so. And ... thanks for getting me this chance. It's the first time I've had an opportunity for a big promotion. I don't want to mess it up."

"Relax ... you'll be fine. I know you can do the job. You covered for me when I was on vacation, so it's just a matter of understanding the security part. What you can and can't say."

If I had any doubts about Doreen, it would be her ability to keep things to herself. It wasn't a job that allowed you to share information unless it was asked for by a person with the credentials warranting it. Like Tim, or Rance, for instance.

She was visibly nervous when she showed up at three that afternoon for her interview. I showed her into Rance's office and closed the door, leaving them alone. It would be interesting to hear what he had to say when they were done. That turned out to be a half-hour later.

"Well, what do you think?" I asked as I walked through Rance's open door.

"I think she can do the job alright. She's pretty anxious to get it, that's for sure. Her file doesn't show any reason not to give her the chance. Can you think of anythin' that might cause a problem?"

I hesitated. "I think she needs to hear the speech from you about loose lips sinking ships. She not a gossip, but just to be sure, she needs to know what's out of bounds when it comes to information. Especially considering how sensitive and personal some of it is."

"Good thinkin'. I think we can get her started right away, then you can judge for yourself if anythin' we don't expect shows up. You certain she can run the database?"

"Yes. Absolutely no problem. She was involved on the design team, remember. Why don't you call her? She'll be sitting on pins and needles waiting to hear."

He smiled and picked up the phone. By the sound of it, Doreen had barely returned to her desk when she answered. By Rance's reaction, she was excited and couldn't wait to get started. Rance decided next Monday would be soon enough. We had other priorities this week.

Buster Rhimes arrived on Thursday evening, and Rance and I met him at the airport. I wasn't prepared for the man that approached Rance with a giant smile and outstretched arms. He was big. Bigger than Rance both in height and weight. He was also black. He walked with a slight limp, but not with what I always thought of as the characteristic gait of a man with an artificial leg.

The other thing I noticed was how he was dressed. Neat, pressed, almost military in his presence. I guess that shouldn't have been a surprise. When they had finished almost crushing each other in welcome, Rance turned to me.

"Julie, I'd like you to meet my very good friend, Brent Rhimes. But almost everyone knows him as Buster. Named after a boxer, I'm told. Buster, this is my fiancée and partner, Julie Sanchez."

"Fiancée!" the big man said in total surprise. Hell, he was no more surprised than I was.

He approached me and for a moment I was worried I was about to be on the receiving end of one of his bear hugs. Fortunately, he had a sense of proportion, and gave me a gentle squeeze.

"Well, well, someone finally got to the Stoneman. Congratulations, Julie."

Stoneman? I wondered, looking at Rance.

"I'll let him explain it to you," Buster said with a big grin.

"I didn't know you served with Rance," I said, now confused.

"I didn't. We were in different units, but in the same area. Everyone knew about Rance. Dragged two of his men to safety, took out a whole mess of Taliban by himself. Hell, they gave him a medal for it," Buster proclaimed.

"I'd heard something about it, but ...."

Rance cut the conversation off at that point.

"Enough of that for now. Let's get you to your hotel and we can have a drink and talk."

I had a couple of questions for Rance when we were alone.

I ended up being a bystander at what could only be described as an informal but thorough interview. It was done on a friendly and familiar basis, but I could recognize what Rance was looking for. It was subtle, but it would get him information he wanted in a comfortable and non-confrontational way.

Buster admitted he had a hard time after being released from the army. He wasn't prepared for anything particular in the real world. Rance already knew his skills, but what he was searching for was his attitude and just how dedicated he was to improving himself. I had to admire the skill with which he drew Buster out.

We were in the bar for over two hours, and the whole time, the conversation seemed friendly and general. If Buster was aware of what Rance was doing, he didn't show it. To him, it was a conversation between friends. When we shook hands and agreed to meet him for breakfast Friday morning, I couldn't wait to quiz Rance.

"I had no idea you were so good at that," I said as we walked to the truck.

"Good at what?"

"That interrogation. Did Buster know you were doing that?"

"Yep. Part of trainin'. He knew."

"Well?"

"He'll be fine. I watched his eyes. He was honest. He wasn't hidin' anythin' ... leastways, nothin' important."

"You got all that from just a conversation and his eyes?"

He nodded. "Part of the specialist trainin' I got in Fort Benning. Very helpful when playin' cards," he chuckled.

"I'll bet. And what was that about me being your fiancée? Jumping the gun a bit, aren't you?"

"Are you upset?" It was a serious question.

"No. But, I wish you had prepared me."

"Sweetheart, I've been preparin' you all week. I don't know how many times I've asked you to marry me and you've never said 'No.' I figured I was entitled to make an assumption."

"Oh ... so now I'm sweetheart, am I?"

"You know it," he grinned. "When we get home I'll prove it to you."

Doreen started with me on Monday morning, eager and excited at her new job. Rance had called her into his office just after his meeting with Tim and gave her the security speech all of us had heard at one time or another. Coming from Rance, there was no mistaking that he was deadly serious about security and would tolerate no lapses.

At this stage, Doreen did not know that both Rance and I would be leaving. In fact, she didn't know that the big black man that visited the office on Friday would be her new boss. I didn't expect a problem. Buster was very laid-back, much like Rance. I think it must have come from all the nasty and ugly things they had seen in combat. Working in this environment wouldn't cause anywhere near the same amount of stress.

Rance told me that Buster's interview with Tim went very well, and although the boss was unhappy to lose his head of security, he was pleased that Rance had found an able and likable replacement. Kleinhauser would not suffer in the exchange.

The next three weeks seemed to drag on forever. Doreen, as predicted, picked up my job in no time at all. It once again confirmed that Rance had chosen me for the role because he wanted my nearby. A waste of training and talent, but when I thought back on it, I didn't mind as much as I thought I might. Maybe that year we had spent dancing around each other wasn't wasted after all. Maybe it was what I needed to be sure he was the right man for me.

I began to daydream about what it would be like to be a rancher's wife. What would I do with my time? I'd been in school or competitive swimming when most young girls of my age might have been at home learning some of the domestic skills. I could cook and clean, but nothing special. I had some things to learn. Perhaps Marion would guide me. We seemed to get along well. I hoped she would teach me what I needed to know. At least I knew how to ride. One step at a time, I decided.

Rance suggested I sell my car. We would pack all our possessions into his pickup truck and share the driving to Trinidad. It seemed like a practical idea, so I posted my car on Craig's List and took the first reasonable offer I got. I'd bought it used when I graduated, so it didn't owe me anything. I could replace it when I got to the ranch. The young man who bought it was tight for money, so I felt he was getting a reliable car for a very reasonable price.

As the day we were to leave approached, I began to get nervous. I suppose it was fear of the unknown. I was leaving my job, my home base ... at least home in Spokane ... and running off with a fantasy cowboy I had created in my dreams. How crazy was this ... really? It could turn out badly so easily. Maybe he isn't the Superman I had constructed for myself. Maybe I'm making a huge mistake. I was having second thoughts.

Buster arrived from Reno ten days before we were scheduled to leave. Doreen was surprised and maybe a bit disappointed that Rance wasn't going to be her boss, but got over it soon enough. She and Buster seemed to get along fine, so I knew she would be alright. I suspected Tim would keep an eye on things for a while, just to make sure everything was going smoothly.

They held a going-away party for us at the nearby hotel and it was a lot of fun, despite the fact that both of us would be leaving good friends and workmates behind. I had really liked working at Kleinhauser, and wondered more than once what I would find to replace it in Trinidad.

I was sitting at a table talking to some of the girls I had worked with when I first started at the company. Sandra Pullman joined us to say goodbye since she was leaving early. She was a special woman and someone who introduced me to critical thinking at the corporate level. Tim was very lucky to have her. I gave her a big hug as a thank you for all her help and friendship.

The group started to break up and Rance came back to the table to sit with me.

"I know it's traditional for people like us to go look for a ring, but I have somethin' special I'd like you to wear before we do that," he said quietly.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, slim ring with a single stone in it. It might have been a diamond, but I couldn't tell.

"This belonged to my Great-Great-Grandmother. I'm the last in line on her side of the family that bears the Cameron name. Maybe we're not officially engaged, but you'd make me proud if you'd wear it."

I don't know if it was the tension, the alcohol, or the moment, but I was in tears in seconds. The little ring was so dainty and so very old that it was more special to me than the biggest diamond any girl could want. I held out my left hand and Rance slipped in on my third finger as if it was made especially for me. I could barely see him through my tears, but I felt his kiss and then the applause and cheers as I realized we were surrounded by our friends and fellow employees.

It took me a while to recover from a very emotional moment. I had accepted the ring and that to everyone was a signal that Rance and I were formally engaged. I spent a while thanking everyone for their congratulations and happy comments. Even the guys seemed genuinely happy for me. Tim, of course, spent quite a bit of time trying to warn me about Rance's faults, but I knew he was kidding and I didn't take anything he said seriously.

And then we were alone, driving back to the apartment for the last time. In the morning, we would put the last of our things in the crew cab of the truck and be on our way. I had given up my apartment almost immediately when we had decided to leave Spokane, and fortunately Buster was happy to assume the lease. It was furnished, so there was nothing to move out but my clothes and personal effects. Buster was in the same situation, so it was an easy transition.

The sun had long since risen on that early June morning when we prepared to leave Rance's apartment for his home. I had to get my head around the idea that it was going to be my home too. When I awoke, my arm was draped across his abdomen, only inches above his groin. Only a single sheet covered our naked bodies, but I was warm and comfortable in the presence of my lover.

I could feel the petite ring on my finger and trembled at the thought of its significance. By accepting it, I had made a commitment. A commitment just like the one Lisa had made before me. I would die before I would break that pledge. But then, why was I so nervous about our future? I had convinced myself that I was in love with Rance Cameron. I didn't allow myself any doubt about that. So what was gnawing at me?

We made love before we rose and showered and made our last pot of coffee. We each had a cup, then poured the rest of the pot into Rance's thermos, packed up the final pieces of our belongings and took them to the truck. One last look around to make sure we hadn't forgotten anything, and we were on our way.

We stopped in Laurel, Montana. Rance had reserved a room at the Great Northern Inn, a place he had previously stayed and liked. There was a nice restaurant nearby and the motel provided a continental breakfast each morning. I had shared a bit of the driving, and we weren't as tired as we might have been after getting a somewhat later start on the road.

In our time together, there wasn't much that we hadn't talked about at one time or another. From time to time, Rance would take my hand when he was driving and hold it for a while. I don't think I could have been more comfortable or relaxed. If my worries about the future hadn't disappeared, they had certainly been suppressed. I found myself staring at the ring quite often, fingering it as I contemplated what was to come.

We got a much earlier start on Sunday morning, and as you would expect, the traffic on I-90 was very light. We stopped at Buffalo, Wyoming, to stretch our legs and take a bathroom break before switching off to I-25 on our way south to Cheyenne. With both of us driving and the traffic being light, we decided to push on through to Denver, about five hours south of Buffalo, not counting a lunch stop.

We stayed in a nice hotel on the south side of Denver, deciding to avoid the typical Monday morning traffic on the interstate before heading down to Trinidad. We were about four hours drive from the ranch now, and I could sense the anticipation in Rance. I felt it too. Not apprehension, just expectation. I wasn't worried about my reception with his parents. We had got that out of the way on my first visit and my phoned apology for running off the way I did had been accepted gracefully by Marion.

We were fairly silent on the last leg of our journey. I suppose both of us were thinking about what was to come. Over the past two days, I had been able to pull more out of Rance through conversation. I deliberately avoided discussing Lisa. There was no point in opening old wounds. But I was interested in how the nickname "Stoneman" came about.

"You don't need to know about that, Julie. Let's just say it was about my attitude after I got Lisa's letter. I just stuck to my job and didn't try to be everybody's buddy. Not the best time of my life, and not somethin' I can look back on with pride. That's somethin' you need to know about me. I can close up sometimes. I'm countin' on you to stop that from happenin'," he finished with a smile.

"I'm not sure how I'll do that, but I'll try," I promised, wondering just how it might manifest itself.

"With you around, I doubt it's goin' to be a problem."

I could tell he was trying to reassure me, so I let it go.

"Will I get to meet your sister?"

"No doubt. I haven't told her about your misunderstandin' when she came out to see me that day. She doesn't need to know."

I was fine with that. I didn't need any more embarrassment than I had already achieved. I had to hope neither of his parents would tell the story either.

"What was the problem with her husband?"

"Billy is an idiot. He wants to be a big time high roller, but he doesn't know how. He thinks by hitchin' his wagon to Dexter Prentice that he'll end up rich and respected. It ain't goin' to happen."

"So ... what did he do?"

"He tried to cut a deal with the gas company, CoalMeth, to pay him a finder's fee for any exploration agreements he could deliver. Apparently, he was tryin' to get paid for agreements he didn't have, includin' ours."

"Yours?"

"There are two old mines that have been shut down for over thirty years on the south-west edge of our property. They used to pay a small royalty when they were operatin', and that helped my great-grandparents expand and operate the ranch. Now, with gas exploration goin' on, a few of the speculators are seein' dollar signs again. Billy was tryin' to take advantage of that. Not everyone is happy to see this happenin'."

"Do you think they'll want to explore on your property?"

"Yeah. They've already approached Dad about it. It'll have to be a pretty good deal before we agree. But if we can cut one, it might allow us to keep the ranch as it is and make the change in stock."

"That would be good, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah. That would be good," he grinned.

"Somehow I don't think you're cut out to run a dude ranch," I chuckled.

"You're right about that. It'd take about two days of some flatlander comin' in here and givin' me orders before I did somethin' to piss them off."

"Rance, I do believe I've gotten mixed up with a man living a hundred years in the past. You're a perfect piece of history. The last of the real cowboys."