F ord had debated long and hard about wearing the tie.
In the end, he left it off. He actually remembered Mr. Beacon from his high school years. The man was a BLM manager now, but he’d been a conservation guy back in Ford’s day, visiting schools with the Colorado State extension service.
He wasn’t a formal type, and the tie would set the wrong tone. Ford went with a button-down shirt with subtle Western styling and gray dress pants over cowboy boots.
His good felt hat completed the look, and damn, he looked good if he did say so himself. People he knew now teased him about being a Coca-Cola cowboy, but he had grown up on a ranch, after all. He could go rodeo any day.
Mr. Beacon met him at the door, wrinkled face wreathed in a smile. “Ford Nixel! I’ll be damned!”
“Mr. Beacon. How are you, sir?” He shook hands, feeling better already.
“I’m good. Good. Come on in and have a seat. Get yourself a cup of coffee. I know Aaron Harris was handling this with Ty, but I wanted to hear the new plans when I got your petition.”
“Thank you.” Beacon had one of those cup-by-cup makers, so Ford popped in a caramel latte cup and ran water through. “Wow, so how long have you been here?”
“Six years? Seven? It’s a good job. I feel like it’s a good place to retire. What are you up to these days?”
“Mineral and water rights mostly. I have an office down in Santa Fe.” He didn’t mention Aspen.
“Nice. I like it down there. Some neat architecture.”
“I work a lot on the Four Corners reservation areas and the Pueblos.” He loved helping the different tribes keep control of what little they’d been able to carve out for themselves.
“Good on you. Public service is fulfilling as hell.” Beacon leaned back, shot him a look. “So, why are you in my office instead of Stoney?”
“The lease is coming up at the Leanin’ N. I know it’s been tough for Ty and Stoney the last few years, but they did manage to solicit a good many of the public comments and get you the references they need.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I hate that Tyson is so ill and leaving the ranch. That’s been Nixel land for generations.”
“I know.” Ford paused to gather his thoughts. “Stoney is a good manager, but I feel as though the land-use plan needs a review. I have some ideas.”
Beacon’s eyebrow went up. “So, you did do the petition. You’re coming back home?”
“Well, I’m going to be spending a good bit of time here. I’ll have to go to Santa Fe at least a week a month, but I’ve promised Ty I would help out.”
“That’s good news. It’s good to have a local there.”
Because even after more than ten years, Stoney was still just a Texan. Coloradans often said if Texans would just go home, they’d gain a thousand feet in elevation….
“I hope so.” Ford had no intention of living at the ranch, did he? “At any rate, I don’t intend to change the grazing lease, but the hunting and forest permits I have some great thoughts about.”
“Well, I’m willing to cut you some slack, since Ty’s so ill, but we’re coming on short days, so we need some movement.”
“We do.” He nodded decisively, taking a deep breath before he launched into his well-ordered spiel. He’d surprised himself with the idea that had popped into his head last night.
At the end, Beacon was leaning back and grinning. “No shit? Well, it’s unique and, I got to tell you, timely.”
“That’s what I thought. Aspen has always been progressive, and Glenwood has the hot springs. I think it will be a draw.”
“I assume this is all in the paperwork I got?”
“I have an initial proposal. I can have a notarized application to you by the end of business today.” Ford almost held his breath. No approval would come for at least a month. There were hoops to jump through, but it sounded as if Beacon didn’t intend to put him at the end of the line.
“Good deal. Ty’s a good man, respected around here.”
“Yessir.” He wanted to ask what Beacon thought of Stoney, but he was pretty sure the omission told him something. To be fair, he would bet a lot of folks knew Stoney by name only.
If nothing else, Stoney was just Quartz’s daddy, and it was pretty obvious the boy adored his dad. He sighed. Ford thought of himself as a fair man. Automatically thinking ill of Stoney didn’t suit him.
Still, he was tender on the edges, and who could blame him? Thrown over for his family and his family’s land? Ford still had more than his share of rage.
“I think you may have a workable plan, Ford. We can possibly make this work.”
“That’s great news.” He stood when Beacon did. “Thank you.”
“Get that paperwork over here, and we’ll make things move.”
“I will. Thank you.” He shook hands one more time before Beacon walked him to the door.
“Holler when you’re ready, and we’ll grab lunch.” Beacon nodded and smiled.
Ford headed out. Okay. Meeting one, down. Check.
Ty was going to be pleased as hell, and Ford couldn’t help but feel smug. He allowed himself a grin on the way out to the truck.
There was nothing like being superefficient to make a man feel ten feet tall.
Now he just needed to get the rest of his shit finished so he could go have a steak.