Flint Mesa

By Donna Bender Hood

Cody Lynch is not looking for love, but if it should come his way, he wants what he sees shared by his grandparents. Never would he expect to have to delve into dark family secrets to get what he wants.

Ruth Dunmore would also like real honest love, but the Rev. Isaiah Dunmore's newest heavenly calling seems to make that impossible.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 23, 2015
• ISBN: 9781503551800

Donna Bender Hood

Donna Bender Hood is the author of nine other books, all of which are light fiction, romance, and evildoings. Besides writing, she enjoys gardening. Donna is also a twenty-year quilter and is active in a local quilt group that raises funds for their volunteer fire department by hosting a quality outdoor quilt show every September.

Book preview

Copyright © 2015 by Donna Bender Hood.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 03/12/2015

Xlibris

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

706968

CONTENTS

Chapter 1    The Lynch Family

Chapter 2    Susie

Chapter 3    Revelations

Chapter 4    July Fourth

Chapter 5    The Cabin

Chapter 6    Business Dealings

Chapter 7    The Proposition

Chapter 8    The Vision

Chapter 9    Howdy Pard

Chapter 10    Matters Settled

Chapter 11    Truths

Chapter 12    The Quest

Chapter 13    Change in Directions

Chapter 14    Time

Chapter 15    Endings

Chapter 16    Chance

Chapter 17    The Elements

Chapter 18    The Rings

Chapter 19    BJ

Chapter 20    The Box

Chapter 21    The Pistol

Other Books

by

Donna Bender Hood

The Bennington Trilogy:

Asa

The Double B

Bennington House

Women from Silver Bend

The Anna Quilt

A little larger than the size of two football fields, Flint Mesa was an empty, wind-swept piece of dry ground jutting out of the Wyoming landscape where the Great Plains collided with the Rocky Mountains. Behind the mesa were lonely, rocky crags, which were mostly empty except during hunting season.

Below the mesa, the Copper River wandered east through cattle country, alfalfa fields, small second- and third-generation farms and ranches, and a few very upscale summer homes, which belonged to the rich and sometimes famous.

Often late in the afternoon when after a storm the light was just right, an occasional tourist headed for Yellowstone would stop to take a photo of the mesa. Today, there was more traffic because the whole area, including the little community of Meridian, Wyoming, was getting ready to celebrate another July Fourth.

There was no reason for any of the Lynch family to think that their traditional celebration would open a door to a long-buried family secret.

CHAPTER 1

The Lynch Family

W hen the phone rang, Cody Virgil Lynch recognized the ranch number so he was not surprised to be speaking with his grandmother except that he would be seeing her tonight, so he wondered why she was calling now. Tomorrow was the Fourth of July, and he would make the three-hour drive to the Lynch ranch for the holiday weekend as soon as he could leave his office.

While she talked, he continued to study the house plan he was working on then absentmindedly sketched a different back deck design on a large art pad he kept on his drafting table just for the purpose of doodling new ideas. He was still really listening to everything his grandmother Abigail was saying.

Your grandfather was helping me unload the groceries, and one of the watermelons rolled out of the back of the car. Could you stop on your way up here and bring me another one? She was talking in a rush, and he could visualize her standing by the kitchen wall phone. Over the years, from that very vantage point, she had been able to keep an eye on her kids and now grandkids in the backyard and at the same time watch whatever she had baking in the oven.

Cody’s grandparents, Abigail and Virgil Lynch, had also been his parents from the time he was about two months old. Their oldest daughter, Connie, Cody’s mother, had brought him home, dumped the baby in her mother’s lap, and said, I can’t take care of him. Connie Lynch had disappeared from of all their lives.

Besides Connie, Abigail and Virgil had three other daughters, Carole, Fay, and Jean. They raised little Cody right along with the three girls. Cody grew up thinking of them as big sisters, and they thought of him more of a baby brother than a nephew.

Because he was so loved, Cody never felt there was anything odd about his life until about the fifth grade when he began to hear the words illegitimate and bastard. The words were directed toward him. He did not understand, and he had no ill feelings toward the mother who had abandoned him. The house still contained photos of Connie growing up right along with her little sisters. There was never a word of anger or hatred directed toward his missing mother.

During his teen years, he worried and wondered about both of his parents and especially his father. That particular line that should have shown the father’s name on his birth certificate said unknown.

Quietly, Abigail had wondered how that entry could have been allowed, but it was there just the same. Until Cody matured, he did not comprehend the pain Abigail and Virgil must have felt over the years. He only knew they loved him. And he loved them deeply in return.

By junior high, he was known as the boy who usually didn’t start the fights but sure as hell could finish them. By the time he reached high school, too many other students had worries, and nobody cared that his grandparents had raised him. By then, none of it made any difference to anyone.

None of his three aunts particularly liked the little ranch. It had been home and a great place to grow up, but now as adults, they did not want to live on it. They and their families never missed a chance to come back for holidays and celebrations. Cody felt differently. Despite all the work, Cody loved the place.

Today as an adult, Cody also realized that the ranch was probably going to become a problem as both his grandparents were aged and his aunts had to decide how best to care for them. He drove out of the ranch to help his grandpa whenever he could, but that did not necessarily mean he had much say in what would become of the property when the time came.

His aunts also had never desired to go to college. They married and moved into the nearby town of Meridian. Cody, on the other hand, wanted to go to college. After four daughters, Cody was the son Abigail and Virgil never had, and they were more than happy to help him with his education. He graduated with a degree in architecture, paid back every dime of his education, and was now a partner in a successful architectural firm also located in Meridian. He went home to the ranch several weekends a month to help Virgil, who was getting close to eighty.

Cody was almost thirty-three and unmarried, a fact that had bothered Grandma Abigail for a while. Three years ago, Cody had come home for a week to help Grandpa split winter firewood. Abigail watched the two of them out the kitchen window. Cody was shirtless and wearing old low-hanging jeans as he hefted the big log rounds onto the splitter for his grandpa to split into stove wood.

Cody was a well-built and handsome man in his grandmother’s opinion. In fact, Abigail thought that Cody was built just like her Virgil had been forty years ago. Virgil, in his prime, had been quite a man and, she remembered, quite a lover. They had enjoyed each other physically, and it was something she had wished for her daughters and now her grandson.

For the first time, she wondered if Cody was normal. Maybe his mother’s abandoning him had somehow affected him when it came to women. At the end of the week, when Cody had departed, she asked her husband. Virgil, I know you and Cody talk about things men talk about, but has he ever mentioned how he thinks or feels about women?

Virgil put his arm around her now rather ample middle and asked, Are you asking me if Cody has normal sexual desires just because he has not found the right woman yet?

Abigail leaned in to him. Yes, I guess I am.

In the old days, her leaning into him that way would usually mean they would go upstairs and enjoy the four-poster bed or, when they were really young, the hayloft. Now after his prostate cancer, hugging and cuddling her a lot meant that he missed the old days.

He answered her question. We don’t talk about sex all that much, but I’d say Cody has a very normal, healthy desire when it comes to the opposite sex. He once said that when he has children, he wants to raise them just like we raised him. Just as Virgil expected, Abigail began to sniff.

What Virgil said next was unexpected. I believe that Cody has probably hired an investigator to try to find his mother. This was news to Abigail and she was surprised, but before she could say anything, Virgil went on. Either he found out nothing or what he found was something he did not want to share with us. I only say this because of a couple of remarks he made. When I gave him the opportunity to elaborate, he changed the subject and it had never come up again. I never pushed it.

Virgil had been correct. When Cody turned twenty-seven, he quietly hired an investigator who discovered that Connie Lynch, the mother he did not remember, moved around a lot after she left home right after high school. She had met the man who was probably Cody’s father at a Woodstock-type music festival in Colorado. After the music was over, so was the affair. The young man when home, and a few months later, Connie could not ignore the fact she was pregnant.

By that time, she was living with a group of hippies. Little Cody was born on the front steps of a small rural Colorado fire department after which mother and child spent a few days in the county hospital.

When the baby was about two months old, Connie Lynch brought Cody Virgil Lynch home to her parents and then disappeared from their lives a second time. According to the investigator, he could not find much more than that; she was living with people who traveled around a great deal.

Cody’s probable father was now in his fifties and lived back east somewhere. He most likely didn’t even know he had a son. Cody was saddened by the whole thing and had elected to have the investigator end his search.

Virgil also remembered that when Cody was perhaps thirteen, he was preoccupied with worry, curiosity, and at times even anger, especially about his father. Cody had blurted out, I don’t look like you. I don’t look like Grandma. I must look like my son-of-a-bitching father.

Virgil had stopped the truck right in the middle of the cow pasture and sternly reminded Cody about the use of profanity then surprised the boy by saying, You look just like my great-grandmother. Her name was Luisa Romero. There is a little photo of her on the wall in the upstairs hall. Next time you are up there, take a good look. The photo is small and only black-and-white, but you will see that I am correct.

Over and over again, Cody would secretly examine the face in the small photo; his big dark eyes and his thick black hair came from a great-great-grandmother he had never known or paid any attention to until now. Somehow, as he studied the photo, he felt better. He felt connected.

Cody was still listening to his grandmother talk about tomorrow’s traditional BBQ, and he was still drawing different deck ideas when he heard a knock on his open office door. Looking up, Cody saw his partner, Bill Thornton, wave a coffee mug in the direction of their break room. Cody managed to nod without dropping the receiver.

His grandmother was still talking. Carole and Sam and the boys are driving up tomorrow morning. Cody liked Carole’s husband, Sam, and the boys were OK, but they were loud. At least they were old enough to swim in the pond and no one would worry. If they decided to go riding Blue Bell and Clyde, the two old horses Grandpa kept for just that purpose, Cody would remind them that the horses were old and should be ridden with care.

Fay and Mark are coming up tonight also. Mark is bringing the little girls, and Fay is driving her own car and—here Grandma Abigail took a deep breath—she is bringing a guest and that is why you are sleeping in the barn. Cody could not help but laugh. His grandma did not mean he was sleeping in the barn but that he would be in the studio apartment over the barn, which was fine with him. It had been his bedroom getaway during a couple of his teen years.

However, the reason he laughed was that Fay had always been one to bring home someone or something she had rescued. It was part of the Lynch family history. To start with, it had been birds with broken wings and baby jackrabbits. Then came puppies and kittens followed by bigger dogs and cats and other animals, which really didn’t always want to be rescued, but she brought them home anyway. Her first car had been a VW bug into which she had managed to load two baby lambs because she thought they were abandoned.

Her father was impressed with her effort, but not happy with the damage done to the interior of the car. The owner of the lambs had a hard time keeping a straight face when Fay, under her father’s direction, returned the animals and apologized for stealing his livestock.

Once, she even brought home a drifter who stopped her on the street and asked for money. Fay brought him home, sure that her father could give him some work and her mother would feed him. He ate the meal and departed, taking a few tools from the barn as he left. That earned Fay a long lecture from her father. Even young Cody thought that Fay should have known better.

Now that Fay was married and had two daughters of her own, she still occasionally brought people home, but only from where she worked and usually only when they had nowhere to spend a holiday.

Who is she bringing home this time? chuckled Cody.

A lady friend who also works for the city but in a different department. The lady’s name is Lynette Forrest or maybe Forrester. Oh, I don’t remember. He thought his grandmother sounded flustered.

How about Jean? he inquired.

As usual, I haven’t heard from her, but then since the Fourth is on a Friday, I suppose Dirky will have to work. Grandma Abigail sounded sad, and Cody knew the reason. Jean was a beautician and a good one, which was her salvation because her husband, Dirky Smitts, thought the way to earn a living was to play guitar with a country western band at the Sage Club just outside the city limits of Meridian.

The sad thing was that Dirky was a good musician, but he just couldn’t leave the booze alone. Because of his drinking, he had ruined his possible one and only chance to be part of a band that had some promise.

Cody thought the conversation was about to come to an end so he said, In answer to your original question, I will pick a watermelon. Do you want anything else?

No, just the melon. Your grandfather felt bad about the other one.

Are you baking a peach cobbler? he asked hopefully.

What time do you expect to arrive? his grandmother asked in return.

Eight thirty or, if the traffic is bad, maybe nine o’clock.

The cobbler will still be hot when you arrive, and I have ice cream in the freezer.

Thank you, Mom. Cody often called Abigail and Virgil Mom and Dad because that was how he thought of them. He called his aunts sis too. And no one thought a thing about that either except perhaps Dirky, but he knew to keep his feelings to himself.

CHAPTER 2

Susie

A fter saying good-bye, Cody worked the kink out of his shoulder, drew a circle around the deck sketch he liked best, and headed for the break room. He could smell the fresh coffee. The office of High Country Architects was not in a real commercial building but rather in an old craftsman’s style house, one block off Meridian’s main street.

The original living room was for waiting guests and clients and was furnished with comfortable furniture that fit the style of the house. The dining room was the office where three days a week, Marilyn Frosh came in and took care of the office needs. To Bill, she was their girl Friday, and to Cody, she was the office manager and worth everything they paid her.

Marilyn made sure that at Halloween, there were a couple of pumpkins on the porch railing followed by a harvest banner for November and a proper wreath on the door for Christmas. She tactfully supported all the seasons and holidays and community events in such a manner that any client who did not observe or care for the occasion would not be offended. She also kept a Cracker Jack office, which both Bill and Cody fully appreciated.

Besides all that, she spoiled both Bill and Cody with things like hot apple cider or home-made soup in the winter and lemonade and fresh-baked cookies in the summer. She felt sorry for Bill because of his wife, Susie. Marilyn also thought that any woman who might wear Cody Lynch’s ring would be lucky. Today, she was not in the office and Bill and Cody had the break room to themselves.

Cody and Bill had gone all through school together with Bill being two years ahead of Cody. Bill’s given name was William Robert Thornton. Some school chum figured that Bill’s nickname could be Billy Bob Thornton, just like the movie actor of the same name.

In a way, it was a joke because Bill had been short, rather pudgy, with a shock of curly blond hair that made adult women envious. He was good-natured about the ribbing, but in truth, he didn’t like it much. That had been Cody’s opinion, and he had been right.

Bill never played sports. Cody did. They met when they were both in the same drafting classes and competing in drafting competitions. They never would have guessed that they would both go off to different schools, each returning home with degrees in architecture and going into business together. They called their firm High Country Architects.

High Country Architects specialized in homes, which fit the rural landscape. They had been steadily busy since many of the old smaller family farms and ranches were being sold and turned into parcels for gentlemen farmers and summer homes or winter retreats for families with money. They both understood that the boom would not last forever so they managed the business and their clients with care, and that included leasing the old house they used for their office. It was not a prime location, but it was classy and suited the image they wanted to present.

The old home’s two smaller bedrooms served as Bill and Cody’s offices. What had originally been the master bedroom was a private meeting room, and the kitchen was their break room. It all worked well. If they worked late, they could cook and eat in the kitchen. In the loft, there were two cots, blankets, and pillows. Once last year, there had been so much snow that Cody had spent the night. Last week, Bill had suffered two migraines and had slept them off in the loft. Cody suspected that Bill was suffering migraines because of his ongoing divorce from Susie, his wife of five years.

Cody was wearing athletic shoes today, and he made no noise as he approached the kitchen. When he reached the kitchen door, he stopped. He did not like what he saw. Bill sat at the table with his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. Bill’s shoulders were slumped. There was an untouched apple fritter on a paper towel in front of him.

Cody scuffed his feet and walked to the counter and the mug rack, but before he poured coffee, he changed his mind and moved to the refrigerator where he selected a soft drink instead. Too hot for coffee, he remarked.

Bill straightened up, pushed away the untouched fritter and his coffee, and said, Yeah, hand me one of those too, please. After a long swallow of the icy-cold beverage, he brightened up a little. Going up to the ranch for the holiday?

Cody smiled. I am. Come with me. There are plenty of beds and always more than enough food. The folks would be pleased to see you.

Bill took a long time to answer. No, I guess not. I actually have to meet with my lawyer tomorrow.

On the Fourth of July?

Yes. Susie has asked for some more things, and the lawyer wants to go on vacation next week so he would like to talk about our answer to her requests. Suddenly, Bill looked really glum.

What’s she asking for this time? They had discussed Susie and her unrealistic demands before, and Cody didn’t feel out of place asking.

Well, you should know. She wants a percentage of what High Country earned right off the top for the five years we were married.

Shit, Bill!

Bill held up his hands. I know. I know. The lawyer says the way we set up the partnership, she can’t have any of your money unless you just want to do that out of the goodness of your heart. I told him no to the whole thing. I assured him I was talking for both of us.

Bill went on. "I explained to him that both of us only took what we needed, sure, to be comfortable and to live a nice life, but everything else went straight into separate and private investments because we know the real estate bubble and therefore building will not last forever. That’s the trouble, Susie knows how much I have or rather we have.

You will be OK, but I will probably lose half of everything I have saved. He swished the remainder of his soft drink around in the can and then shoved it away next to the cold coffee. I guess it is worth it if I