~ Chapter Four ~

Madison hopped into Blacky’s front seat.

Jimmy John lifted a smile a mile wide. “I guess you’re ready for the Mud Bogs? Perhaps a little more than usual?”

She laughed. “I am. Abbi texted me this morning, and she’s better. Swing by, and we’ll pick her up on our way.”

“Good.” He motioned a thumb behind him toward the truck’s bed. “I stopped by the sub shop and grabbed us lunch.”

“Did you bring sodas?” She peered through the back window into the pickup bed.

“You doubt me? Everything is in the cooler.”

“Thanks. You make things easy. Since you sprung for the food, it’ll be my treat later at the ice cream shop.”

Jimmy John patted his belly. “One...maybe two scoops?”

“As many as you like, my friend. Hey, the youth rally is coming up next month. Wanted to ask you if we ought to invite Jeanne and Roland to help?”

“Since you got a good vibe about Jeanne, I think it’d be a great idea. You’ve taken her friendship kinda slow, huh?” He glanced in her direction and turned back to focus on the road.

Madison knew exactly what Jimmy John meant. He’d made it clear for over a year that he’d like to confront those two women who used and hurt her last spring, but she asked him to drop the subject more than once. She’d already forgiven them and refused to have negative junk flowing through her life. After all, she’d struck a match on the preverbal bridge and washed her hands of the mess and the people. She’d often heard her parents say, Forgiving someone doesn’t mean you want them in your life. So knock the dust off your shoes and move ahead. The message Jesus gave His disciples.

“Can I ask you something, Jimmy John?” She fiddled with a button on her blouse, not wanting to meet his gaze, but she would if he said yes.

“Sure.”

“Why don’t you date?” Madison adjusted in her seat, trying to read his visage.

“Please, I’m not looking for a girlfriend. I don’t have time for one.”

“Okay, I’ll drop the subject. Yesterday, you never answered when I mentioned if you’d take some college classes. Have you given any thought to attending this fall?”

“Girlfriend or classes? No time for either. Besides, you said you’d drop the subject, and I’d like you to do that.” A scowl formed on his brow.

“Do you fear a girlfriend might be too smart for you?” She stared out the window as he turned into Abbi’s driveway. “Believe me, no one is smarter than you. How do you do it? You analyze the project and inform the client of the necessary materials. Not to mention the cost and if the job will require extras. Tell me, who else can do these things so fast? In my eyes, you are one smart man, Jimmy John Porter. Despite my math and algebra background, I can’t do what you do.”

The old friend she knew well emerged again. Jimmy John laughed. “Boy, your confidence in me is a lot more than I have in myself. I’ve done it so long it comes naturally.” He swung sideways on the seat. “Since I’d planned on taking off helping at the center the other day and couldn’t, my boss offered me all day Saturday in return. All I have to do is give him which Saturday I prefer to be off. Is the fish fry still on?”

Oh, he’s changing the subject kinda fast. Okay, my friend. “Boss? You mean your dad?” Madison laughed.

“When we’re on the job, he insists I call him boss or John. He wants to keep a professional relationship. I sometimes forget when I’m away from the job.”

“You’ve worked there since you were fourteen. Working at the family business must be tough.” Something flashed in his eyes. Finally, he shook his head.

A lopsided grin lifted, and he whispered. “Madi—”

Abbi tapped on Madison’s truck window. “I’m ready.”

Interrupted again. One day, you’ll tell me what’s on your heart, Jimmy John. Madison opened the door and slid into the middle space beside Jimmy John. “Glad you’re better.”

Jimmy John leaned forward. “If you get sick again, tell me, and I’ll bring you back home.” He nodded. “Madi is treating us with ice cream after the bog. Hope your tummy will agree.”

Abbi snapped her seatbelt into place and shut the door. “My friend took care of me yesterday, so I’m good. Thanks.”

Jimmy John laughed. “That’s what I like. She’s a loyal friend. Let’s hope you won’t have a relapse.”

Madison’s fishing line sliced across the placid water as she stood two feet from her dad on the banks of Lake Cimarron. She flicked the rod, waiting for a catfish to take the bait. How should she approach her dad with the question that had plagued her since she spotted her parents having a private conversation at the barn last week?

She sighed and reeled in the line. Whatever the answer, she’d have to accept the reason for the privacy. She cast the line into another area and eyed her fishing buddy. “Dad.”

“Yes.” Holding his gaze on his pole.

“What were you and Mom talking about the other day by the barn?”

Wide-eyed, he turned and faced his daughter. “We’re going to have to sell some of the land. Our finances took a bump with the economic downturn.”

Relief washed through her, somewhat glad to discover no one was ill. “Do I need to find a job and drop Tech?” Madison reeled in her line. “I want to help so we don’t have to sell any of our great-grandparents’ land.”

Her father stepped closer and draped his arm over her shoulder. “No. You stay focused on your education and the dream you and Gramps comprised together. Your mother and I will handle this issue. It’s not your concern. We’re only selling a few acres along the back strip by the creek. The couple we’ve agreed to sell to is building a house. They have assured us they won’t put in a puppy mill, rooster fights, or something else to disturb the other neighbors—they’re building their retirement home. We feel these folks will take good care of the property we love.”

“Okay Dad. You and Mom shouldn’t be so mysterious. I would’ve figured it out when trucks and workers drove up and down the road.” Madison laughed.

“You’re right.”

“Dad, do you think Jimmy John enjoys his job with his father—well, I mean working at the family business? I think he’s holding something inside about not having a choice.” She glanced at her dad.

A far-off look crossed his face as if pondering her question. Finally, he nodded like he decided how to answer. “I can relate to Jimmy John’s situation and not settling on one’s future or how it would’ve unfolded with his choice of a career. I never could choose either. When I married your mother, the land was already in her family. We married while enrolled in A&M, so I took some agriculture classes because Gramps pulled me aside and shared his future plans of becoming an architectural engineer. And he did, and it was decided that I’d take over the farm. I didn’t mind, but it’d be nice if I also chose. Don’t get me wrong, I love the land. Have you asked him how he feels?”

“Yes. He sidestepped my question, so I have to leave it alone, at least for now. What will happen to our land? I mean, I’m not a farmer or rancher. You guys didn’t raise me to do anything like that.”

“Since you’re our only child, we’ll sell it after we retire. By then, that big house will be too much for your mother to take care of alone. And the yard too. Our retirement years are far off into the future, and we have planned nothing yet—just talk between a husband and wife. Don’t give up on Jimmy John, Madi. Just be a friend. He’ll confide in you one day. Let’s catch enough fish to fill a frying pan.”

Madison’s pole tugged against her hand. She gave the rod a little jerk and yanked it harder. Then she reeled in a four-pound catfish. “Help, Dad.”

He hurried over with a net and scooped up the fish before it jumped back into the lake. “Good job. How many do we have?”

She gripped the wiggly fish and pulled out the hook. “Seven, I think. He has to go in your bucket. Do you have another hook? That big guy chewed this one to pieces.”

Her father lifted the cooler’s lid, and she dropped the fish inside. “I should have a few left. Look in my tackle box.”

Great-grandpa Dunbar had purchased the hundred-acre farm the family called home. Before her birth, the economy took a downturn, and they leased the land to a nearby rancher who used it for grazing cattle. Then, her parents took jobs in town.

Madison never met her great-grandpa Dunbar, but his son, Gramps, had regaled her with stories since her birth, including his own adventures. But what intrigued Madison most were his stories about how he designed and built structures of all kinds around the world. From the age of eight, Madison wanted to take up Gramps’ same profession. Although he’d passed away three years earlier, his dream for his granddaughter to follow as an architectural engineer remained in her heart. Her determination never faltered about the promise she made him.

“Whoa.” Her father’s exclamation drew her out of her reverie. “Grab the net. I got a big one on the line.”

Madison scooped up the net and stepped to the lake’s edge, ready to gather her father’s catch. The fish jumped out of the water and dove back in. “Wow. Do I have enough net? This guy is huge.”

Her father struggled to keep the line from breaking or the catch scurrying away with his reel. “We’ll find out in a minute ‘cause here he comes.” The fish landed on the bank, flipping and flopping.

She fell on her knees and covered the catch with the net. “Help Dad.”

He dropped his pole and landed beside Madison. “Got it. Quick, open the bucket.”

“You need help to pull the hook out of his mouth?”

“Nope. Be ready to shut the lid after I get him in. He’ll try to escape.”

As soon as he put the fish in the bucket, Madison closed the lid and sat on top. “Boy, he’ll feed at least three people. Did you bring your portable scale today? I bet he’s the biggest either of us ever caught.”

“I did. With this guy, we should have enough for our fish fry. I’ll get the folding table and ice to clean these beauties.” Her father headed to the truck.

Madison called out. “Don’t forget the scale.”