“They want to put a gas line through the mountains. It’ll save them millions of dollars to cut through rather than go around. My family’s company tried to stop the line from being settled though this town altogether, but our lawyer got us to compromise.”
“Was that your lawyer you were talking with?” I asked.
“Yep. I told him if we gave them an inch, they would take a mile. But he was certain that if we settled, they would leave us alone. So, my father and us all agreed to have them route the gas line through the valleys and around the mountains.”
“Which would still cost them millions more than just blasting them away,” I said.
“Exactly. Now, they want to buy the land from us for double what it's worth. But we aren’t selling. And now I’m having to investigate our options because this company’s getting serious about their accusations.”
“None of that seems legal. What did your lawyer say?” I asked.
“We can sue them for harassment and notify the U.S. government of the threats they are making, but beyond that there isn’t much we can do unless we can catch them doing something illegal.”
“That’s it?” I asked. “That’s all your lawyer had to say?”
“Hence why I’m frustrated. My family purchased this land a very long time ago simply to preserve it. We run some hunts and a couple of camps and give out hunting permits, but that’s about it. That money gives us the property taxes on the land and the property taxes on the cabins we’ve built in the area, and that’s it. It’s not some big money-making scheme for us. It’s just to preserve the beauty of this town.”
“I think that’s a very noble thing to do,” I said. “Kettle’s a beautiful place. I couldn’t imagine it without its mountains.”
“And running a gas line is never just a gas line. Then you need people to settle and work it, which means building more homes. Which means more grocery stores and more places for entertainment. It would bring the world into this small little town, and soon Kettle would be like every other industrial city in the nation.”
“That’s not okay. I have serious memories in this town that stem around how small and quaint it is,” I said.
“Our family single-handedly makes sure that stays intact. But this company that keeps reaming us is making it difficult.”
“Selfish assholes,” I said.
I could’ve sworn I saw Travis’ cheek twitch with a smile.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he said. “Just your enthusiasm.”
“It’s beautiful out here. Kettle’s like a second home to me, despite the fact that I’ve explored very little of it. Knowing someone’s attacking it like that makes me sick.”
“Don’t worry. We’re trying to get it settled,” he said.
“I don’t know what I can do, but if I can help just like me know. Okay?”
I could see him really taking my words to heart as he nodded his head. Silence fell between us as I sipped on my coffee. Simply being in his presence was enough to make me smile. Something inside me pulled toward him. My body gravitated in his direction. My foot slid toward his underneath the table and settled by his as my hand reached out for his fingertips. I waited for him to move. To shrug me off or get up from the table. I waited for the rejection I somehow assumed was coming.
But instead, he allowed our fingertips to tangle within one another’s and I felt a peace settle over my body.
“What are you doing for dinner tonight?” Travis asked.
“Sitting at a table with my head in my plate trying not to look at my father’s angry glare. Why?” I asked.
“I figured you might want to have steak stir fry and smile instead.”
“Uh huh. And who’s cooking up this stir fry?” I asked.
Travis scooted his hand closer to mine, threading our fingers deeper into each other’s grasp.
“Me,” he said. “If you’d let me.”
I smiled as I curled my lips around my straw. My eyes fluttered up to his as we sat in the corner of that coffeehouse. Part of me was worried about who saw us and who would report back to my father with it, but the other part of me was fine. I wanted to be with him. I wanted to be in Travis’ presence. I wanted to soak up his warmth and experience what it felt like to be safe in the presence of another human being.
“I think I’d like that option better,” I said.