In the days following Dexter’s fight outside the tavern, there had been a small but noticeable shift in the atmosphere in the town. He hadn’t been publicly seen since the fight, nor had either of his brothers. Even Stoddard’s men were less visible then they had been in past; while they had been on the streets, they weren’t directly interacting with the people. Rather, they were just staying as a looming, background presence.
The people themselves felt both more relaxed and more tense at the same time. They didn’t have Stoddard’s men menacing them or extorting payments, but many were wary of what would come next. Nobody expected that Stoddard would let this challenge go unanswered, but the question remained as to what he would do about it.
Despite being the cause of the situation, the old woman had gone about her business as she had on previous days. Her day started at the motel, then she headed to a diner for breakfast. On this morning, she was joined at her table.
Looking up, she took in the newcomer. He was immediately different in her eye to many of the others she’d dealt with in the town, both in attitude and stance. This wasn’t an immediately hostile visitor, with him seeming far more relaxed and affable than those who had come to pick fights with her before. She figured him to be about her age, with a weatherbeaten face only partially covered by a wiry beard.
“Any reason why you’re interrupting my breakfast,” she simply asked.
“Forgive the interruption,” her replied, his tone pleasant. “My name is Sam Thompson. I run one of the biggest farms around here.”
“And?”
“Look, many people may not show it, but you’ve done a lot for us so far. Nobody’s been able to stand up to the Stoddards in a long time.”
“Able or willing to?” She asked.
He gave a small nod, perhaps an admission of his own failings. “With that being said, I admit I interrupted your breakfast for a reason. I’ve come here to offer you a job.”
“I’m not here to be somebody’s enforcer, if that’s what you want.”
“Nothing of the sort,” he replied, shaking his head. “Look, I know that this is a longshot, but do you have any experience with AgroMechs?”
For the first time since she’d entered the town, the women seemed taken back, and at a loss for words. “Why would you ask?”
“The Stoddards ran off a number of my workers after I refused to play along with them,” he admitted. “Which has left me well short, including having nobody to run my AgroMech. And while this is a shot in the dark, I was wondering if you might know how to operate one yourself.”
She paused, clearly running thoughts through her head. “Why do you say that?”
He gave a small smile. “You’re a fighter, that much is obvious. I”m guessing that you also have some, ah, related skills.”
For a moment she tilted her head to one side, as if again listening to her unseen speaker while she considered her response. However, anything she was going to say was cut off by a third figure approaching the table.
This one was far less friendly. Tall and imposing with a shaved head and beard, he was wearing a functional suit, something that made him stand out from the rest of the town. She knew enough to be able to make out the shape of a pistol hidden under the suit, and that he likely wanted her to know of it as well. “And what do you want?” She glowered.
“Mister Stoddard wants to see you,” he simply replied. “I suggest you accept his invitation.”
The woman gave off a brief sigh, then looked to Sam. “Well, I know how this goes,” she simply sighed. “You’ll have to excuse me.” She stood and turned to the newcomer. “Let’s get this over with then.”
They rode out to Stoddard’s house in one of his pickup trucks. While the ride was in complete silence, she took the opportunity to examine the house and its grounds in detail, including the security arrangements. Men with rifles stood at key points around the garden and entrances, arranged around carefully concealed barricades within the grounds. His setup was far more professional than she had anticipated; certainly more than she had expected for a small-town thug.
As she was led inside, she continued her assessment. The interior of the house was more or less what she had anticipated; well decorated and appointed, clean and well maintained and not given to excess. And, of course, far better off than anything in the rest of the town.
She was led through to a study where two figures were waiting. The first was seated; a man who was maybe a few years older than she was, with a lined, rough face. And while seated in his home, he still was clearly alert and ready as if expecting trouble at a moment’s notice. Standing next to him was Dexter Stoddard, who was clearly uncomfortable with her being there judging from the way he was fidgeting.
“Buck Stoddard,” she simply began.
“I am indeed,” Buck nodded. “And it is a pleasure to finally meet you, Ms-”
“So what do you want?” She simply replied. “You didn’t bring me here to kill me, otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation now. And since you put me in the hands of somebody more competent then one of your sons, I figure this has to be important.”
Dexter was clearly riled at the comment, but a sideways glance from Dexter saw him back down. That bought a small smile to her face. “I just wanted to talk with you,” he explained. “Have a friendly little conversation, you and me.”
“So talk.”
That bought a chortle to his face. “See, I expected that from you,” he admitted. “I can tell one thing about you already. You’re a soldier, or at least you were one.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Takes one to know one,” Stoddard explained. “I was a mercenary for a number of years myself, before I decided on a change of careers into something more entrepreneurial.”
“Figures,” she accepted.
“You’re a fighter, and I don’t just mean that because of the way you’ve been handling my boys,” Stoddard continued. “I can tell that. You won’t back down, you won’t surrender. You started this fight, and you want to end it on your terms. I can respect that.”
She gave a derisive snort in return. “Ain’t like you have a lot of respect for anyone else around here.”
“And yet, you’re not respecting a proper business man just doing his job.”
“What I saw was a cowardly sack of crap who was stewing in his own inadequacy,” she stated. “Kid needed a lesson.”
“Are you going to-” Dexter spat, only to be cut off again by another glare.
Dexter clenched his fists, but again Stoddard shot him down with a glance. “So then what do you want?” he asked, his tone still calm as his son was fuming in the background.
“I just want to do my business and be left alone,” she finished.
“Well then,” Stoddard sat back in his chair. “You know, I have to admire your guts. You walked in here, you insult my boy to his face in my house and you have never flinched once.” He smiled. “So how about this? Rather than continue to fight, we come to an agreement.”
“You want to buy me off.”
“Consider this a job offer,” he continued. “I could use someone with your skills and drive. I’m willing to make you a very generous offer to come work for me instead.”
The woman paused, looking around the room, her head cocked to one side. “So what, you’d have someone more useful than your boy?” She asked. “Not that it’s hard or nothing.”
“You and Dexter have a history,” Stoddard agreed. “Hell, you coming to work for me could be good for him. Help toughen him up and all that” He shot another angry glare at his son that kept him in his corner.
“It’d take a lot more than more than me to sort him out.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, look at the three of them,” she commented. “You got Jerome there with his bad teeth and worse breath who goes around bothering people’s livestock because he can’t get a girlfriend otherwise. Or Buford, who’s such a fat sack of crap that he gets winded walking in a straight line on a flat floor and hasn’t seen his dick in years. Or maybe you mean your oldest boy here who, despite having all the looks in the family, is so fragile and full of unresolved daddy issues that he has to beat up a waitress for daring to turn him down on a date.”
“Now that’s not a very charitable thing to be saying about a man’s sons.”
“Mister Stoddart, I had two children of my own,” she continued, her gaze fixed on his. “I gave one of them every opportunity in the world. I taught them everything I know. I raised them with every advantage I could provide, and gave them every chance to succeed. And yet they still managed to disappoint me at every single step.”
Despite her words, her tone was more weary than angry. “The second of them spent their entire life being a whiny, entitled little bitch who managed to screw up everything they ever did and went crying to their daddy whenever things got tough,” she noted. “The only thing they didn’t mess up was stabbing me in the back the one time I needed them.”
Stoddart was about to speak, but she held up a hand. “I only say this because after all that, your sons ain’t even worth the dog crap on the undersides of their boots.”
Stoddard sat in stony silence, while Dexter fumed at his side, clearly furious at the insult.
“So no, I’m not interested in your job offer,” she finished, her tone tired.
Stoddard nodded. “It’s your decision, and I know that forcing you to change your mind is not going to work.” He indicated to the guard. “In that case, I want to offer another deal.”
“Go on.”
“You keep out of my business,” Stoddard simply stated. “And I will keep out of yours.”
She gave a small snort. “And by that you mean you’ll take it out on the town.”
Stoddard simply gave a small nod. “My man will see you out.”
He was surprisingly true to his word, with her being driven back to the town in a tense silence. All the while, thoughts ran through her head as she considered all that she had learned so far.
The driver dropped her back at the diner where she had been picked up from. To her surprise, Sam Thompson was still waiting there, having apparently taken the time for a full breakfast. She took a seat with him. “How did things go with your meeting?” He asked.
“I thought about your offer,” she simply replied. “Is it still on the table?”
