| Copyright © 2006, Star
Ferris Reviews For MENDING FENCES by Star Ferris "Star Ferris does a remarkable
job of combining two strong personalities of her main adult characters
and a very perceptive child with her quirky secondary characters and
a bit of mystery and suspense to boot." "The
main characters are written strongly, made [even] more believable by
the secondary characters." Rating *** Stars (out of four) Sample Chapter For MENDING
FENCES by Star Ferris
“Ms. Marless?” A thin Oklahoma drawl crackled over the line. “Jennifer Marless? Are you ready for an offer you can’t refuse?” Jennifer was weary. It had been another long day of dead end job interviews and she wasn’t up to another unwanted telephone solicitor’s call right after walking through the door. “I’m sorry, sir, I’m not interested in whatever you’re selling. Thank you for calling.” “Ms. Marless, I’m not selling anything. I’m Ben Reston. Have you received your letter of confirmation?” “Letter of confirmation?” She grabbed the mail off the kitchen counter and flipped through it, remembering her son Aaron had drawn her attention to an official looking envelope encrusted with a gold seal when she collected the mail from him earlier. “Oh, that letter.” She pulled out the buff colored envelope and tore it open. “Yes, I received it today, but I haven’t had time to look at it. I figured it was one of those fake sweepstakes. Courtesy of my dear old friend, Ed McMahon.” “Oh, no, Miss Marless, this is perfectly legitimate. I’m proud to announce you are the grand prize winner of Country Dreamin’ magazine ‘Win a Ranch’ essay contest.’ You’re now the proud owner of the Split Rail Ranch in Spayde, Oklahoma, population 5,000.” Jennifer hesitated. “Thank you for calling, Mr. Reston, but I’m no longer interested.” “No longer interested?” Reston’s voice teemed with pompous authority. “You don’t understand, Ms. Marless, I’m not asking you whether you’ll take the ranch. It’s yours whether you want it or not.” “Pardon me?” Jennifer switched the phone to her opposite ear as if she hadn’t heard him correctly. “The ranch, plus the surrounding land, is yours regardless of what you may or may not decide to do with it.” “But you don’t understand, Mr. Reston. I entered that contest on a whim several months ago. Back when…when things were different.” Tears welled in her eyes. Had it already been six months since Reece’s death? She swallowed hard and regained her composure. Something she’d had to do on many occasions since she’d opened her front door and come face to face with a police officer’s somber expression. “Pick someone else, okay?” Reston let out a laugh that was half bark, half wheeze. “We can’t do that, Ms. Marless. The owner of the property is deceased and my company is bound by the stipulations outlined in his will.” Jennifer glanced at her index finger, which she’d nicked while chopping onions for dinner when the phone rang. It had finally stopped bleeding, but still throbbed with pain. “Well then, just choose an alternate winner.” Reston’s voice grew taut and twangy as a high strung banjo string. “You don’t understand, ma’am. Reston and Associates have put forth a great deal of effort, not to mention money, in promoting this contest. We simply don’t have the time or desire to repeat the selection process.” Jennifer sighed. “I understand your predicament, Mr. Reston. But I have my own considerations to worry about. This is my home, not Oklahoma. My husband recently passed away and I’m not ready to pack up and drag my only son from a high rise apartment to some picturesque little house on the prairie.” “When may we expect to receive the completed papers?” Reston pushed for an answer, effectively ignoring Jennifer’s last statement. “Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said? I’m not interested in owning a ranch!” “I’m sorry, Ms. Marless, but you are the new owner of the Split Rail Ranch. There’s nothing to say that you have to remain the owner, however. You do have the option of putting the property up for sale at any time.” The idea wasn’t half bad. In fact, selling the ranch could be her ticket for paying off all the business debts Reece had incurred. With some luck, she could probably make enough profit to set aside a nest egg for her and Aaron. Jennifer sighed. “Fine, Mr. Reston. I’ll sign the papers and return them to you by express mail.” Reston let out a huge, irritating belly laugh. “Congratulations, Ms. Marless. Who knows, you might enjoy giving up the big city for country living.” “Living in the big city is something I’ll continue to do,” she said. “Because as soon as the ink dries on those papers of yours, that place is going on the market.” “That’s your option. But I think it’s only fair that you notify the caretaker of the ranch in advance.” “Caretaker? What caretaker?” “Mr. Jace Thompson. He’s been tending to the Split Rail Ranch for over ten years.” Reston cleared his throat. “And I’m sure Mr. Thompson will be none too happy to learn the Split Rail’s been passed over like a cold plate of chow.” He wheeze barked again. Jennifer was beyond mere irritation now. She was downright mad. This fellow was dancing on her last nerve. “How Mr. Thompson feels about whether I sell the property or not is none of my concern. If he’s been tending the Split Rail for as long as you say, I’m sure the person who purchases the ranch will have no qualms over keeping him.” “Hope you’re right. ’Cause when Jace hears about your intentions, he’ll be expecting the worst. There’s not a lot of job stability out in these parts, you know.” Jennifer sighed. “Come now, Mr. Reston. Mr. Thompson could have just as well have lost his job when I took over.” “That’s where you’re wrong, little miss.” Jennifer winced. She abhorred homegrown sexist expressions like ‘honey,’ ‘little miss,’ and ‘sugar pie.’ Which was probably another reason Reston’s manner grated on her nerves so much. “Take a closer look at those papers. You’ll notice Mr. Thompson is guaranteed full and gainful employment for as long as you continue to own the property.” Reston wheezed again. “With you out of the picture, he could end up at the tail of an unemployment line.” “I understand it may be a difficult decision, but I have to make the best choice for me and my son,” said Jennifer. “It’s not my problem.” “Maybe not, but I think it’s up to you to break the news to Jace personally.” “Fine, what’s his number?” Jennifer grabbed a pen and notepad sitting by the phone. “He has an unlisted number.” “What do you mean? Surely he won’t mind you giving me his number.” She doodled furiously on the paper, releasing her impatience. Reston cleared his throat. “Jace guards his privacy like a pit bull. I’d just as soon have him call you, if you don’t mind.” Jennifer dropped her pen on the pad. “I can’t believe this! You’d think I was trying to reach the President of the United States or something!” “Close, but not quite. Jace has a colorful reputation around Spayde.” He snickered. “Why, you might find the colors in his rainbow quite to your liking, too.” Jennifer burst out laughing. How ridiculous! Who was this Jace Thompson anyway? He sounded like a stubborn old mule, expecting others to bow to his convenience. “Sounds to me like Mr. Thompson is an eccentric old coot,” she remarked acidly. “Hardly that,” said Reston, a chuckle punctuating his remark. “Tell you what, I’ll make you an offer you can’t refuse.” “No thanks, I’ve had my fill of offers today,” Jennifer deadpanned. “This one you won’t be able to pass up, little lady. I’m gonna give you the opportunity to see the Split Rail Ranch before you jump to any conclusions. No cost, of course.” “Not interested,” said Jennifer, her suspicion aroused. “No obligation on your part, I assure you.” Reston’s words slithered through the phone line like an entrancing cobra’s dance. “I’ll pay for you and your son’s airfare and expenses.” “That’s gracious of you, Mr. Reston, but a trip to the Split Rail would be a waste of your money — and my time.” “Boy, you sure are a tough little missy, aren’t you?” He lowered his voice confidentially. “Ms. Marless, I’m going to be upfront with you. The previous owner, Dr. Rufus Kincaid, was quite a bigwig around these parts. Heck, I wouldn’t be where I was today without old Rufus. Before he died, I promised I’d do anything I could to save the Split Rail from collapsing into a heap of useless property. That’s why I ran the contest. Because chances were good that the person who won the contest would be sincere about keeping the ranch.” Reston’s voice took on an air of urgency. “I promised Rufus I’d find a trustworthy successor to run his ranch, and I promised Jace I’d protect his job. If you sell this ranch, I will have failed Rufus.” Jennifer’s heart sank. This man was serious. For the first time in the conversation she believed he was being sincere. “I know you’ve got a job to do, Mr. Reston. And I know you have an obligation to see that your friend’s property is passed on to a caring individual. But my son and I are just now getting back to normal after his father’s death, and I don’t want to do anything to upset the balance.” “That’s understandable. But maybe both of you could use a change of scenery,” he suggested. “I don’t know. This has come as a huge surprise, and one that’s not particularly wanted right now.” “Tell you what, Ms. Marless. I’m going to send you the airplane tickets anyway. What can it hurt? After all, you can’t sell the Split Rail without seeing her first.” Reston chuckled. “Who knows? She just might grow on you!” Jennifer hesitated. Maybe he was right. After what she and Aaron had been through, they both needed a short vacation to mend their emotions. “Oh, all right, send the tickets.” Reston clapped his hands together in victory. “It’s a deal, Ms. Marless. You’ll have the tickets in the mail in a few days. I thank you, Jace thanks you, and my ole buddy Rufus is smilin’ in his grave.” Jennifer winced. This guy was something else! “Just because I’m agreeing to visit doesn’t mean I’m keeping the ranch.” Reston cackled. “Well little missy, it looks like we have a deal.” Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. Oh and Mr. Reston?” “Hmmm?” he drawled, the sound exiting his mouth and cutting an irritating, twangy question mark in Jennifer’s ear. “My name is Jennifer, not little missy.” Before he could wheeze laugh in her ear for the hundredth time, Jennifer offered a crisp goodbye and hung up. Jennifer busied herself with completing the dinner she’d started. She whipped up a simple tomato basil pasta sauce and tossed a salad. Finally, she spread some French bread with garlic butter. While it toasted, she set the table and called Aaron to dinner. Aaron attacked his dinner like he’d been starving for a week. At last, he came up for air. “Who was on the phone?” Jennifer shot him a disapproving look. “You sure are nosy,” she chided him. “First you peek into my mail, now you’re monitoring the phone.” “Aw come on, Mom, it’s my job. I’m the man of the house now, remember?” “You’re right, I did say that.” She grinned, unable to pretend she was angry with him. “But even mothers need privacy.” Jennifer twirled another glob of spaghetti around her fork. “It was about the ranch in Oklahoma, wasn’t it?” “You were listening, weren’t you?” Aaron shook his head, a sheepish grin covering his face. “Really, I didn’t mean to, Mom. Then I heard you talking about the ranch and I couldn’t help but listen.” Jennifer could tell he was about to burst with anticipation. “So, are we getting the ranch?” “Not so fast,” she cautioned him. “I’m not promising anything but a brief visit to Spayde, Oklahoma. The only reason I agreed was so I could get him off my back.” “If we like it, can we stay?” Aaron’ s eyes lit up. “Please?” He drew the word out like he was stretching a wad of gum into a fine, thready line. Jennifer sighed. “Aaron, I just don’t know about all of this.” She got up and began clearing the table, motioning for him to help her. “We’ve lived here ever since you were born. What about your friends? Your classmates? Your teachers? You love your school, wouldn’t you miss it?” Aaron hesitated, then conceded. “Yeah, maybe a little.” Then he speeded up his pace, trying to correct himself. “But that’s just it, Mom. I need a change, a chance to explore other horizons.” He fanned his arms out, making the point. “I’m almost a man, you know.” Jennifer giggled, mussing his hair. “You’re a nut, kiddo. Any other kid would be dragged kicking and screaming from his hometown. But you? You’re anxious to get away from here.” She shot him a questioning glance. “Now why is that?” Aaron straightened himself. “I’m tired of living here. I know we’ve got the beach just a few blocks away, but you can’t go there for the tourist crowds. I want to live in the wide open country.” He took over the sink, nudging her aside. She obliged, wondering what had really gotten into her son. This was definitely a side of him she hadn’t seen before. Maybe he was growing up, after all. “What are you going to do when you can’t just rush down to the corner convenience store, hmmm?” “I’ll get used to it,” he assured her. “Heck, I’ll even milk cows if I have to.” Jennifer shuddered at the thought of grabbing an udder in her manicured hands. “Really Aaron, you and me living on a farm would be like the three stooges, minus the guidance of Curly.” Aaron laughed. “So when are we leaving?” “The tickets will be here in a couple of days.” “If we like it, can we stay?” he pleaded. “Aaron, all of our things are here.” She grabbed a towel and dried the plates he had stacked in the drainer. “Besides, it’s not just the problem of getting all our stuff out there, there happens to be someone living at the ranch already.” “Was that the guy you were talking about to Mr. Reston?” She nodded. “Um hmm. Some man named Jace Thompson. He’s the caretaker of the ranch.” “Cool! Bet he looks just like the cowboys in those commercials!” Jennifer groaned. “I doubt it. He sounds like the stubborn type, probably a cross between Festus from Gunsmoke and the hunchback of Notre Dame.” She shivered, conjuring up pictures of a man who looked like a half crazed gold miner with bug eyes and green, grimy teeth. Aaron screwed up his face. “That’s gross, Mom.” The phone rang. Aaron dried his hands and answered it. “Hello?” He glanced at Jennifer. “Yeah, she’s here. Just a minute.” Aaron passed her the receiver. “Who is it?’ she mouthed.
He shrugged and went back to finish the last of the dishes. “Ms. Jennifer Marless?” The voice was deep, male and smooth as homemade honey dripping from a honeycomb. There was a slight drawl, just enough so it reverberated through Jennifer’s fingertips and sent a surge of tickles down her spine. “Yes, this is Ms. Marless.” “Jace Thompson here.” He said it matter of factly, almost in a way that made him sound distracted. Like he was talking to her and doing a million other things at the same time. “Got a call a few minutes ago. Ben tells me you’re the new owner of the Split Rail.” Jennifer sat down on a barstool by the kitchen counter. “That’s correct. How may I help you?” She was stunned by the richness of his voice, its velvety smooth texture lighting a fire hidden in her soul. “Hear you’re visiting the Split Rail next week. I’ll be picking you up at the airport.” She began talking fast, wanting to get the words out before her tongue tripped and stumbled on them. “Thanks for the offer, Mr. Thompson, but I think I can find Spayde myself.” She paused. “My son and I can rent a car and find it on a state map. It is on the map, isn’t it?” “Yes it is, Ma’am.” An impatient edge rimmed his words. “You’ll probably have no trouble finding the town of Spayde, but locating the Split Rail might cause you a mess of trouble.” Jace Thompson rolled the words out like he was spitting a wad of tobacco. It was clear he was a no-nonsense type of guy, and one who was used to setting the schedule and making the rules. “Unless you have a compass and know north from south.” Jennifer became indignant. This man, this Jace Thompson, was speaking to her as if she had no brain and hadn’t the foggiest idea how to read directions. She glanced at Aaron, but he was busy sticking his hands in the freezer retrieving ice cream for dessert. “Beg your pardon, Mr. Thompson, I may live in the city, but I am a college graduate. Just give me the directions and I’ll find the Split Rail.” “Suit yourself,” he drawled. “Come down I 35, split off to county road 13, go a mile southeast till you see the Johnson farm…” “Wait a minute, wait!” Jennifer yelled, making a mad dash for the pad and pen that normally sat by the phone. The one she’d used earlier. The pen and pad that had disappeared suddenly. Jace chuckled. “Never mind, Ms. Marless. Just get yourself on the right flight to Oklahoma, and I’ll pick you up at Will Rogers airport.” The plan was set. She finally located the pad and pen, just in time to throw it down in frustration. “But I don’t even know if I’m coming, Mr. Thompson. My son and I are still entertaining the idea.” She noticed she sounded stuffy and city like. “You’re the boss,” he said, the honey texture of his voice becoming thick with annoyance. “Mr. Reston will verify my itinerary with you sometime the end of this week. If I haven’t changed my mind by then.” “Suit yourself.” Jennifer heard the phone disconnect. He hung up! Anger flared through her. “He hung up on me!” She flung a surprised look in Aaron’s direction. “Can you believe the nerve of him?” “What a jerk,” said Aaron. “Guess he’s as old and grouchy as you figured, huh?” Aaron paused in between shoving heaped spoonfuls of vanilla ice cream into his mouth. “Hardly.” She recalled how her body reacted when she first heard Jace’s voice. The way its smoothness charmed its way into her, the way he sounded so much like Reece. “Actually, he was nothing like I expected.” “Worse?” asked Aaron. Jennifer headed for the freezer, thinking some ice cream might cool her nerves. “Let me put it this way: I’ve seen Festus on Gunsmoke; I know how Festus acted and Jace Thompson ain’t no Festus.” Aaron paused mid spoonful and cocked his head in confusion. It was apparent he had no idea what she was talking about. And by the puzzled look on his face, he looked like he wasn’t about to ask. |