I'm Not Lisa Ch. 07-09

"I suppose that's so," he grinned. "You havin' second thoughts."

"No ... not really. Just trying to adjust to who you are and what to expect. Us Sanchez girls are used to old fashioned. I can handle it."

"I'm countin' on it."

Chapter 8 My New Life

My welcome at the ranch was warm and heartfelt. Marion embraced me and hugged me close, telling me how happy she was that I had come back with Rance. Angus was still in his wheelchair, but he too was pleased with my return and gave me a nice big kiss to prove it. Both of them knew about the misunderstanding and why I had left so suddenly. They thought it was a sign of how much their son meant to me and equally how much I meant to him. Apparently he hadn't been very pleasant to live with during the ten days following my departure.

His parents left it to us to decide where to put my bags, and Rance didn't waste any time with pretense. He put them in his room. I walked into it for the first time and saw that it was much like his apartment in Spokane. Simple, clean, very neat, without any decoration or personalization. I wondered if he would object if I changed things slightly. The room needed some warmth besides the warmth we would create for ourselves.

"This room is like what I imagine an army barracks would be," I said in passing.

"Yeah, I suppose it is. I haven't lived here much and I haven't really tried to make in my own. Maybe you can suggest some things?"

"I've got a family picture and I'd love to see a couple of yours too."

"Caroline took some sunset pictures a few years ago. We could probably frame one of those."

"May I see them?"

He went down the hall to the last door and opened it. A couple of minutes later, he returned with several eight-by-ten glossies in color. The sun had been setting on the mountains and cast a beautiful orange glow that she had captured perfectly.

"Your sister is a good photographer."

He nodded without comment.

I selected one of the photos and set it aside. I could go into town and ....

"I just thought of something. I don't have a car."

"We've got a couple of extra vehicles you can use. There's a Jeep Wrangler that should suit you, or an older Dodge Ram if you'd like somethin' bigger. Can you drive a stick shift?"

"Yes. I had a Mazda before the Malibu."

"I'd suggest the Jeep, then. We don't use it much 'cept when there's a cattle drive."

"Thanks. I'd like to go to town and get some things. Oh ... shit ... I just realized. I don't have a job any more. What am I going to do for money?" I was talking to myself rather than Rance.

"What's mine is yours," he said quietly, his arms circling me and pulling me close. "There's time enough to decide what you want from this life here on the ranch. Maybe a home business? In the meantime, I assume you've still got access to your bank in Spokane?"

"Actually, it's my bank in Salinas. I do everything electronically. I don't even write checks. I just charge things and pay off the card monthly."

"Smart girl. No point in changin' then, is there?"

"I guess not. I haven't spent much since I went to work, so I've got quite a bit in my savings and a 401K. I guess I'll survive for a while."

"You'll do more than survive, Sweetheart. The room and board here is next to nothin'. We have a big tank of gas around the back near the storage shed, so you don't have to worry about that. When you need some spendin' money, just ask me. As long as you don't have New York tastes, you don't have to worry about anythin'," he smiled.

"I guess I will be okay, won't I," I smiled.

"As long as you're with me, count on it."

I think that little conversation did more to relax me than anything. I was going to be okay. In a big rush to get here, the little details and longer term were not on my mind. Now, as I had time to think ahead, I could imagine that I might want to find something to do with my time if I wasn't needed to help run the ranch. Sitting around doing nothing was not in the plan.

I drove to town the next morning while Rance tended to his duties at the ranch. He'd said something about needing to catch up with both Charlie, the foreman, and his father. I wanted to wander around Trinidad at my own speed and see what there was to see.

When I got back later that afternoon, I had accomplished quite a bit. I tested a Wells Fargo ATM and confirmed I had complete access to my accounts. I printed out a current statement and took a hundred dollars out of my checking account. I found a couple of nice frames for eight-by-ten photos and bought them. I had a small digital camera and brought it with me, taking some pictures of the beautifully restored old west town and the nearby Sangre de Cristo mountain range.

I stopped in at a fabric shop and bought a couple of yards of a nice print to make some curtains, replacing the rather drab and uninteresting set that Rance had in our room. It wasn't a feminine pattern, so I was fairly confident Rance wouldn't object. I wasn't trying to take over or reform him, I just wanted to brighten our room up.

I wandered into a women's clothing store and decided I'd better get some clothes more suitable to ranch life. Two pair of jeans, four cotton shirts, and a quilted vest. I put my purchases in the back of the Jeep and went looking for my final purchase. I intended to splurge.

If I was going to live on a ranch and ride horses, I needed a good pair of riding boots. I have a wide foot (the better to paddle with), and finding a comfortable fit was going to be a challenge. But I had luck on my side. The woman who looked after me knew exactly what to suggest, and in the next fifteen minutes had five pair of boots for me to try on. In the end, I chose a beautiful tan inlaid pair that I could wear with anything. And ... they fit like a glove. Speaking of which, she recommended a pair of leather gloves to protect my hands. I thanked her for the suggestion.

I had never in my life paid two hundred dollars for shoes or any other footwear, but it seemed like a bargain when I walked out of the store wearing them as if I'd had them for years. I felt like I was part of the environment now. If I was going to live here, I had to adapt both my clothes and my thinking.

I hadn't picked up on it yet, but I'm sure the clerks who served me wondered who I was and where I was from. Despite my appearance, I wasn't talked down to or ignored at all. Apparently I was in a tolerant part of the world. Even in Salinas, spending this kind of money might raise eyebrows at some of the stores. Not here, though. If the credit card was accepted, that was good enough for them.

Marion greeted me at the door as I struggled with my bags. She took several from me, not hesitating to peek inside to see what I had bought. Within a minute or so, I had most of my purchases spread out on the living room couch, explaining what the fabric was for and getting a big vote of approval for my choice.

She was pleased that I had taken the time to explore the town and meet some of the merchants, and was surprised that no one had asked me where I was staying. It was a small town in most respects, and new faces were usually recognized almost right away. I told her about the woman who fitted me with my new boots and Marion knew her quite well. They were friends from high school, many years ago.

Dinner that night was nothing like the previous times. There was plenty of table talk, especially about what was going on with the neighbors. Apparently, several of the ranchers had accepted cash payments from Dexter Prentice to sign over the exploration rights and future royalties to him. The payments were rumored to be in the one hundred thousand dollar range. To many of the small ranchers, that was lot of money up front. It was more enticing than hoping for future royalties that may or may not be forthcoming.

As I listened to Angus and Rance talk, I realized just how deep their feelings for this place really were. While their finances were stretched pretty tightly, they had never missed a payment on their line of credit. They had paid the minimum more than a couple of times, but had never defaulted. It was like that for most of the other cattle ranchers. Raising cattle, feeding them, getting them to market once or twice a year at most, hoping for a decent price at auction to pay off the debts and then, start all over again.

It must be in the blood, I thought. There was no reward at the end of the rainbow. Not any more. They could do well, but never be rich. It was a way of life that they fiercely protected. I didn't totally understand it, but I could certainly understand the passion that they felt for the land and the way of life.

I began to settle into a routine as the days passed. I was happy because Rance was happy. I had gone into town to scout out the computer shops and see what services were offered and try and find an opportunity for myself. I would prefer to work out of the ranch, but that wasn't essential. The shop people were friendly, but at first there didn't appear to be any obvious gaps in the service. Qwest had a high speed internet service, as well as DirecTV satellite service like we had at the ranch.

As I became more familiar with Trinidad, I realized it was a small town after all. Even though it was designated a city, and it had all the services that most cities had, it really wasn't that big. I had to reset my thinking about my new home. Its population was creeping upward toward 10,000 people. In contrast, Salinas had a population of over 150,000, and that was the basis of my comparison. Whatever the size, I liked what I saw of Trinidad. I had a good feeling about this place. I was sure Rance and I could be happy here.

I still wanted to contribute something to the household. I needed a job of some kind. I thought about it for a while, then put an ad in the local paper, The Chronicle-News. They had been around since 1877 serving the surrounding area, including northern New Mexico. It took me little time to come up with a simple advertisement that I could run two times a week for the next month.

Computer Specialist available for consulting on networking, database development, security, home and business applications, etc. Contact J. Sanchez at cardinalswim06@qwest.com or call 719 555 0404. Visit our website at CardinalTechnology@CardTechServ.com

I had easily found a free template at a website service provider and developed one extolling my skills and experience. I may have embellished it a bit, but not too much. In a couple of hours, Cardinal Technology Services was in business.

I had permission to use the ranch home phone number temporarily. I didn't expect to be overwhelmed by calls. Angus had a separate line which he used for business only, so I wouldn't be interfering with that. In the meantime, I printed up a hundred copies of a small flyer advertising my services. I was hoping the computer shops would agree to pass them out if they had someone asking about specialist service. As far as I could tell, I wouldn't be competing with their services.

I'd spent a bit of time talking to the four computer shop managers to get a feel for what was needed in the community. They had asked me a few questions about my qualifications and were suitably impressed with my Stanford and Kleinhauser credentials. I also let them know I was staying at the 3C Ranch with the Camerons. That seemed to generate some interest with them as well.

I was surprised when the first call inquiring about my services came in early the following week. A Mr. Ryan Wishart had been referred to me by one of the small stores that I had visited. He was building a new house and wanted to set up a fairly sophisticated network between the house and his office. It required a number of protections; firewalls and encryption. He was vague about the reason, but I was interested in discussing it with him and we agreed to meet the next morning.

"Do you know a Ryan Wishart, Marion?"

"Yes, I do. He runs a home publishing business. He's also involved in the sex-change business. He's lived here for about ten years now, I think."

"Sex-change business?"

Marion laughed. "Yes. Trinidad has developed quite a reputation for bein' the Mecca for sex-change operations. Not somethin' you'd expect, is it? It's our only real claim to fame these days."

"I never would have guessed. Gives me the creeps, actually," I admitted.

"Well, it's been goin' on for quite a long time now. We've gotten used to it, I suppose."

"Mr. Wishart wants to talk to me about setting up a network and security systems in the new house he's building."

"Oh, that would be that big new house just on the other side of the rise headin' into town. Looks like it's goin' to be a real palace if size means anythin'."

"Should I be careful around him?" I asked.

"Oh, I don't think you need to worry. Everyone around here knows him. He seems like a nice fellow, despite the business he's in. Anyway, his wife would kill him if he didn't behave. She must be twice his size," Marion laughed again.

"Good to know." I felt a little more confident with that comment.

I met Ryan Wishart at his office in Trinidad at nine the next morning. He wasn't what I expected; a small man, impeccably dressed in a suit and tie. Our meeting lasted less than an hour as he explained what he wanted.

"I'm in a very sensitive business, Ms. Sanchez. I need to protect the anonymity of my clients at all costs. I want to set up a system I can access from both my home and my office without fear of being hacked. Is that possible, and if so, can you help me accomplish that?"

"Well, I can set you up with the latest in firewalls and other security programs, but no one can guarantee you'll be protected from a determined hacker. Just ask our federal government. I can make sure you get all the latest updates as a further protection. So that you know, I worked at Kleinhauser in some very sensitive areas. I had a full security clearance which you can check with them."

"That's very comforting. Please include that information in your proposal."

From there on it was attention to the details and just what type of security would be appropriate. Until the very end, the subject of cost wasn't even raised.

"My fee is forty dollars an hour, plus expenses. I will also need to find an installer that we can trust and his costs will be additional. Is that agreeable?"

"Yes ... indeed, I expected it would be costly, but it's that important and I can't afford to scrimp. Perhaps you can put all this down in your proposal and we can get started," he said.

And that quickly, I had my first client. It would be an interesting project, but my main concern was finding an installer that could be trusted. I thought Rance could help me there.

"Guess what!" I shouted as I bounced into the house. "I have my first customer. Cardinal Technology Services is in business!"

I got a big hug, a kiss, and a "good goin'" from Rance.

"Just one catch. I need to find an installer that can do the work and not be at risk to talk about the client. Any suggestions?"

"Not off the top of my head, but let me think about it. I'm sure we can come up with someone," he said confidently.

I spent a couple of hours in front of the computer typing up the proposal for Mr. Wishart, leaving out the name of the installer for the time being. I was about to e-mail it to the client when Rance walked in and placed a business card down in front of me.

"You should contact this fellow, Julie. He does work for all sorts of people includin' the government. All his people are bonded, so you'd be safe with them."

"Great! Thank you. I'll call him in the morning." I looked at the card and saw that the address was Fort Worth, Texas. Not that far away, luckily.

That night, lying in bed, just holding hands quietly in the dark, I asked Rance a question I should have asked him earlier.

"How do you feel about me starting my own business?"

"Fine. I know you don't want to sit around here all day doin' nothin'. As long as it doesn't take all your time up and deprive me from bein' with you, I'm okay with it."

"Good. I'm sorry I didn't ask you first. I should have. I seem to be taking a lot for granted. I'm not used to the idea that I'm going to be Mrs. Rance Cameron someday."

"Now that's a first," he said rolling towards me. "That's the first time you told me that you'd marry me."

"No it isn't. I've told you I would before now."

"Nope. You've never said no, but even when I put that little ring on your finger, I don't remember hearin' a yes."

"Really?"

"Really. So, if I ask you again, Julianna Maria Sanchez, will you marry me ...?"

"Yes, Rance Ian Cameron, I will marry you. Just pick the date and I'll be there," I whispered as I held him closely.

"Tomorrow would be good, but I have a feelin' I'd better talk to Mom about this."

"Good thinking," I chuckled. "I don't think it will come as any surprise. After all, you've been introducing me as your fiancée for a while now."

"Yeah ... well ... I figured if I said it often enough, you'd get used to the idea. Looks like it worked."

"I shouldn't tell you this, but it worked the first time you asked me. I just had to get my head around the idea that the man I lusted after really wanted me. These last few weeks have convinced me you're serious. So ... there's nothing to hold me back."

"What about us goin' to town and pickin' out a ring?"

"No!" I said quickly. "I have the ring I want. I know it isn't big, or fancy, or expensive, but it's very personal. It's a part of this family, and I want to wear it always."

"I think you'll make Mom and Dad pretty proud and happy when you tell them that. I know you make me proud just sayin' you'll marry me. I don't know how things could get better than this?"

"Well, there is one way."

"What?"

"I'm sure they expect to become grandparents. You have a duty to perpetuate the Cameron name if possible."

"Yeah ... that would be great, wouldn't it? When do you think you'll be ready?"

"About six hours after we're married," I giggled.

"That sounds right and proper, Mrs. Cameron."

"Not yet ... but soon," I whispered, nuzzling into his chest.

I dropped the proposal off at Ryan Wishart's office the next morning, letting him know I had been in contact with a firm that could handle the installation with the utmost discretion. They too had security clearance with the federal government. He was satisfied when I told him their man would be out to estimate the job and give him a firm quotation.

The flyers seemed to be working as I received another call from a potential client wanting to set up a database for his company. He was in the building materials distribution business and did work in several states, with a head office in Pueblo and three small warehouses outside of Colorado. How he chose me to contact I wasn't sure until I went to the office of Darren Fielder at Mountain Building Supplies. Several pictures of him and other men were prominent, all of them wearing Army camouflage.

"I understand you're engaged to Rance Cameron," he said after our introductions. "Congratulations. He's quite a guy."

"Thank you. I think so too. Did you serve with him?"

"No ... but if you were in Kandahar in 2005, you knew about Rance. He pretty much made himself a legend in a matter of a week," the man smiled.

"How did you hear about me?"

"I didn't ... not directly. I'd been moaning about getting our business better organized and one of my sales guys brought in a flyer from a place that was fixing his laptop. Apparently, you made an impression on the owner, and he mentioned it to my guy. I called the fellow to talk to him and that's when I found out you were living out at the Cameron ranch."

"I'll have to remember to thank my friend at the store. Do you have his name?"