The Newest Writer's United Anthology Is Out.  "Dimensions of Love." 

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September 21, 2023

Once Upon a Time in The Desert
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​Saguaro cacti lined the old dirt road like skyscrapers lined the streets of New York. Any trace of previous travel down the road had long since been blown over by the winds of time. But he didn't need tracks to tell him where to go. 

Pausing just long enough to let his horse rest and get his bearings, he flipped the reins on the harness, and the horse slowly started moving between the cacti. The overcast skies didn’t bode well for his feeling of uneasiness.  As the afternoon became evening, the time for traveling was fast ending. He considered several places to set up camp for the night.

He located a small hollow off the side of the main path, close enough to see the main path. He built a small fire, big enough to warm the battered old coffee pot and a small skillet to heat some beans and sausages he’d packed. The bedroll was ancient, having been passed from one generation to another, but it kept him warm over the cold night.

The early morning sun found him rolling up his sleeping bag and packing it back on his horse while the last of the coffee had turned into a bitter swallow that he gulped down before tossing the remains in the weeds near his site. The horse snorted and shook his head as he swung back into the saddle. A glance back at the site as he passed the nearest cactus told him he’d cleaned up his site well enough that it didn’t look like he’d been there.

Rod had spent his entire life getting soft. His world had become insulated from doing hard physical labor for an extended period. His job as a computer programmer in the knowledge sector meant he spent long hours in front of a computer. Physical activity was something relegated to the weekends. Usually, it involves sitting in front of a TV, watching the latest sports event, and drinking too much beer.

He had friends who hit the gym several times a week, but he had never felt the need to do more than he had to. In Rodney’s world, physical work was reserved for tradespeople who came to fix broken water pipes or other jobs requiring specialized knowledge and tools. 

He’d ridden horses briefly as a young child, but his fascination with horses and other farm animals had quickly faded when he discovered girls. The idea of living outdoors and riding a horse for several days had never entered his mind. Rod was traveling for days in the desert to visit someone he thought was imaginary or from a distant past.

The story of his elusive great-aunt, living in a desert retreat somewhere in the Southwest, was family lore. No one had seen or talked to her in decades. It was assumed that she’d quietly passed away long ago, and no one had known about it. But that wasn’t the case. 

Not only was she still living in the desert, miles from any known town or civilization, but she had thrived, and at well over a hundred years old, she was as tough as they came. The family rumors were that there had been some bust-up between her folks and her as a teenager. No one would say exactly what happened, and the family had lost touch with her decades ago.

That was until several weeks ago when Rod got a very official-looking letter from Eugene Fairbanks Esquire, a lawyer in Arizona. Mr. Fairbanks indicated that his firm of Fairbanks and Son, of which he was the Son, was handling the estate and financial arrangements for one Ester Longwood, his great-aunt. The letter stated quite plainly that she had not passed yet but felt that her death was imminent.  She requested that her last living relative, Rodney “Rod” Longwood, visit her as soon as possible before she became too ill to see him. As she was no longer able to travel, she had provided all the necessary funds, directions, and connections he would need to get to her estate, including the rental of a horse and all the assorted gear that went with it and a map with exact directions for finding her place. The only stipulation was that Rod was to tell none of the family about her existence or his trip to see her.

After several phone calls and Zoom visits, Rodney confirmed that that letter was, in fact, the real deal. His great-aunt, Ester, was among the living but in very poor health and wanted to see him. Eugene said he was only following the wishes of his client and friend. His father, Lloyd Fairbanks, had been the original lawyer for Mrs. Longwood. Eugene now handled her affairs and indicated to Rod that she lived very simply and did not require a lot of money regularly. The exact dollar amount of money in her account was not to be revealed until after he had visited with her. If he failed to see her before she passed, other arrangements had been made to handle the funds.  
It had taken Rod a couple of days to set up the trip.  Booking the flight to Arizona had been easy, but the closest airport to where he needed to go was a long drive. He’d rented a car and drove to the desert town where he would pick up the horse and gear waiting for him. He located Old Man Roper, tall and bent, wearing a hat that looked older than Rodney. He spent the afternoon and night with Old Man Roper, getting to know the horse and a refresher course on riding. Old Man Roper kept talking to him about how to ride and survive in the desert. He even had a detailed map all drawn up, showing him exactly where to go and how long each stretch of the map should take to ride.

When he asked Roper if he knew Ester, the old man answered that he’d known Ester for years and had been out there many times over the decades. He was going to miss the old gal when she passed. 
                                                                       ~~~
The sun rose to find Rodney and old Man Ropper out in the front yard, saddling the mare and loading the pack on the back of the saddle. Ropper had indicated it was a three-day ride out to Ester’s place. All this time, Rodney wondered how anyone could live this far out, especially an old lady.  With a compass and map, Rodney set off to see Ester. Hopefully, he won’t be too late. 

The first day had been spent getting used to the blinding sun while riding a horse for hours and concentrating on following the map closely. It didn't take long before his back and hips started to hurt, and every slight bounce in the saddle was a reminder of how out of shape he was. But he made the commitment to see his aunt, and he was going to follow it through even if it killed him. He reached the old path lined with cactus that Old Man Ropper had told him about, indicating that he was through the first leg of the ride. Rodney settled down for his first night alone in the desert. 

On the second morning, after following the path, he turned right at the fork as instructed. Getting down from the horse to stretch his legs and walk for a few minutes, he wondered why someone would choose to live in such a place. The wind cut across the sand, picking up a small dust devil and swirling it for a second before dropping the sand where it landed. Gulping from the canteen and wiping the dust off the top, he replaced it in the saddlebag and caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. He spun around just in time to see a tiny trail of dust settle as a critter of some kind disappeared into the sand. Rodney mounted the horse again and set off in the direction of the right fork in the trail.

The coolness he felt when he woke up earlier in the morning was quickly replaced by the heat and blinding sun of the early morning. Stretching and trying to move his legs and arms properly had become a regular thing as he got ready to ride into the morning. Swinging up into the saddle reminded him that he wasn’t a teenager. Familiar aches in his hips and back began almost as soon as he settled into the saddle. The last two days of continued riding on the horse had shown him how out of shape he was.  The map and compass told him he had several more miles before reaching his aunt’s farm.
The cactus gave way to dust and sand as far as he could see. The only break in the landscape was the occasional dust devil thrown up by the winds, and they rearranged the sand in intricate patterns according to the whim of the moment.
Rodney was down to his last couple of canteens of water, which now he measured out very carefully, trying to make it last until he got to the next watering hole, which had been marked on the map the Old Man had given him.
Within less than an hour of riding, Rodney was soaked in sweat.   He noticed, however, that his body had begun to complain less as he rode. His back and hips had started to get used to the saddle's feel and the horse's rhythmic movements as it trod along in the sand. The quiet of the desert was almost as stifling as the heat and sun.  Having never been so far out of contact with the world for an extended period, Rodney began to look back over his relatively short life. 

By the time he reached the watering hole, let the horse drink, refilled his canteens, and had a snack from his meager supplies in the saddlebags, he had decided that if he survived this ordeal, he would make some changes in his life when he returned to civilization.

The trek's final leg into the desert proved to be the longest. At least to Rodney, it seemed to go on much longer than it probably did. At first, he thought he saw a mirage in the distance. The trees surrounding a large body of water seemed out of place. But as he got closer, he realized he wasn’t seeing things. The water and the trees did indeed exist. 

For about a hundred feet or so, grass grew around the water. Beyond that, he could make out a low, flat building nestled in the trees.  As he approached the porch, he saw a figure on the porch. She appeared to be sitting in a chair with a book. The combination of movement and the horse whining made her look up as he dismounted from the horse.

“Rodney?” She called from the porch as she stood up and moved to the porch steps. She leaned against the pole of the porch and had a cane in her other hand.,

“Yes, ma’am. Rodney Longwood here. I came per your lawyer, Mr. Fairbanks, request.” He approached the porch, holding out his hand.

“Well, there, I wasn’t sure if you would make it. I'm glad you made it, and Old Mr. Roper set you up with a good horse. Ole Betsy here knows the way.  She’s been out here many times.” She had come down the steps, stood before Rodney, and reached to pet the horse on the head. 

“By the way, I’m Ester Longwood. Let's get old Betsy set up in the barn, then we’ll talk.” With that, she picked up the reins and led Rodney and the horse around the far end of the house to a small barn. Rodney watched in amazement as she quickly undid the chinch and bridle from Betsy and easily threw the heavy saddle onto a stand in the far corner of the small barn.  Betsy immediately started munching the feed that was waiting for her.

On the way back to the house, Rodney had a chance to look around a little closer. The house was low and flat with an angled roofline that let the rain run into the gutters and flow to large barrels at the bottoms of the downspouts. The building was made of adobe, stone, and ed bricks. All blended seamlessly into a smooth surface that repelled the sun's heat. Several rough-sawn timbers put in place decades ago held up the long porch roof and were worn smooth by many hands through the years.

Rodney followed Ester back to the house, not sure what to say. The old woman wasn’t what he’d expected. From what her lawyer had said and the way he’d talked, he expected her to be feeble and on her last legs. This wasn’t what he just saw. He knew how heavy that saddle was, and she tossed it around like it was nothing.

Stepping inside was like stepping into a cave of some sort. The building was dark except for several windows across the front and a row of high, narrow windows on the side that let in light.   He stood still just inside the back door, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. As he looked around, he spotted several things. A gun rack was built into the wall next to the front door. While he didn’t know guns much, he did recognize a shotgun, a long rifle, and a lever action. Across from that was a coat and hat rack covered in various coats and types of hats—a few pairs of boots on the floor below it.

Ester left him in the living room, headed for the kitchen, and returned with a pitcher of iced tea and a couple of glasses. 

“Help yourself. Want sugar for that?” She placed the tray down on the small table near the two chairs. 
He thanked her, declined the sugar, and looked around for a place to sit. She pointed to the old stuffed chair next to hers as she plopped down.  

Ester lay back in the chair and closed her eyes for several minutes. Not wanting to interpret her reprieve, Rodney sat, sipped his tea, and looked around. The furniture in the house appeared very old. None of it was probably collectible, but it had served her well over the years. 
After several minutes of silence, she spoke quietly, her voice tired. “Rodney, I expect that you have a lot of questions.” He nodded and let her continue. “I had Eugene send that letter to all your family. You were the only one who responded, much less came out.” 

“You know all about my family and where everyone is?”

She nodded. “Yes, I came out here when the family pushed me out and refused to accept me.”
“But why would they do that?” He leaned forward in the chair, balancing his iced tea on his knee.
Ester looked over at a faded picture on the far wall. It showed two young women together in an embrace. 
“Oh, I see.” That was the only comment Rodney could muster as what she inferred hit him.
“Yes, I was in love with a woman and didn’t hide it. But back then, you couldn’t do that in the open. You had to sneak around. We refused to, so both of our families threw us out.”

“What happened?”

“Fortunately. a few friends didn't care who I loved and let us stay with them. I got a job in a different town that didn’t know who I was. Eventually, I wound up in Los Angeles, working in the movies, I was a typist for a producer.  I was typing some letters for him when I overheard him talking to someone about a new technology or something or other. It looked interesting, so after work, I started asking around.
Eventually, I found out they were working on a new thing called television.”

“What happened?” He leaned forward, gripping his iced tea glass.

Ester looked up at the ceiling. “I don’t remember who it was, but they invested in RCA stock, which, as you know, was the record company, but RCA wanted in on the television thing. Anyway, I had a couple of hundred bucks, I was still staying at my friends who weren’t charging me rent, and Lois,” she nodded to the picture, “was making good money in the factories, so after I talked it over with her, we decided to risk the money.  I bought some stock in RCA.  It wasn’t much, but we decided to let it ride. Eventually, we pretty much forgot about it. Until I decided to move out here. Lois had passed, and I needed a change, and the dry heat of the desert seemed to suit my system. I breathed better and generally felt better out here. Anyway, when I wanted to buy this place, I was talking to my lawyer, the original Fairbanks, and I mentioned I thought I still owned some stock. He went and checked. Turns out my investment in RCA stock back during the war had paid off.”

She sipped her tea. Rodney sipped his and tried to think of something that wasn’t stupid to say.
“I’m sorry to hear about Lois. I’d liked to have met her.”

“It's okay. I didn’t expect you to know about her.”

“So, you never made up with the family?”

She looked at him and smiled. “Well, yes and no. I’ve talked to some of your cousins, but as for my parents and their kids, I’m a persona non grata. They barely acknowledge me.”

“But it's been what fifty years, and Lois isn’t around, and they still won’t talk to you?”

“Some will, but most of the old ones still don’t get it. Now most of them are gone, I’ve outlived almost all of them.  Serves them right!”

He nodded in agreement. Rodney found himself liking the old lady.
Ester glanced at the old clock on the wall. “My goodness, it's late. You must be famished.”

Rodney had to admit the last few days, he hadn’t been eating his best. 
Instantly, Ester found new energy and propelled her small frame back into the kitchen, telling him to sit tight. She’d have a meal ready for them soon.

Soon became thirty minutes, which was fine with Rodney. He wandered around the small living room. The fireplace in the corner looked like it had seen a lot of use.  The remains of a pile of logs and bark and a few stray small branches lay in the firewood cradle.  Long stemmed matches lay on the mantel.  The poker and shovel still stood on the rack on the other side of the fireplace. Aside from the matches, there were several framed pictures on the mantle. He recognized several men in the pictures as being movie and television stars of the golden age of television and movies. She had indeed walked among royalty in the day. 

The old sideboard under the front window held several tall colored glass vases and other ornamental glass. The sun reflecting through the colored glass cast interesting lights and shadows on the side of the room.
He noticed a large flat-screen television hung on the wall directly from her favorite chair. Below that was an old turntable, a receiver, and a couple of old speakers. He was flipping through her collection of records when she came in and told him dinner was ready.

The kitchen was a small area off to one end of the house. A small metal table sat against the wall in front of the big window. Its bright yellow marbleized Formica tabletop was framed by a band of chrome that ran along the edge of the table, supported by stainless steel legs. The matching chairs were covered in bright yellow plastic fabric that matched the top of the table. Two large plates sat on the table.

‘I haven’t cooked for anyone in years. I don’t know if I remember how.’ Ester warned as they sat a large pot on the table between the plates. 
“You like some coffee?” He nodded yes as he sat down. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure it's fine. I’m so hungry I could eat a bear.”
 
He sipped the coffee. It was much better than he had in a very long time.

“Well, we don’t get bears around here, but I could fix you up with some coyote.”

Rodney grinned at the idea but wondered what was in the big pot still steaming from the oven.

“Oh, it's leftovers and potluck, whatever I still had in the fridge and freezer. I usually don’t cook a lot these days. But I knew you were on your way, so looked around this morning to see what I had. I figured you’d be hungry.”

“You’d be right, mam.”  

She dished him out a huge helping of stew and slices of bread. They didn’t say much while they ate. Each lost in their thoughts, trying to figure out how to begin the conversation they knew was coming. Rodney had already decided he liked the old lady and would agree to whatever she had in mind.

After clearing the dishes and making more coffee, they moved to the front porch to watch the sunset over the desert. Sipping his coffee, Rodney leaned back in the old porch chair and sighed as the last rays of sun disappeared over the horizon, letting the desert take a break from the oppressive heat for a few hours.  A chill ran down his back as he felt the cool breeze come up from nowhere.  Neither spoke for some time.

“I suppose we have to talk about why you came all this way out here,” Ester spoke quietly so as not to disturb the night.
He muttered a low yes.

“You see, Rodney, I didn’t tell you everything.  I had you come over to the desert for a reason. I wanted to make it hard enough, so whoever did come really wanted to.”

“You mean I didn't have to spend three days on a horse getting here.’

She smiled wryly and shook her head no.

He sat up straighter in his chair and looked at her, almost spilling his coffee.

“Rodney, I’m old and eccentric but not a fool. There's no way I could live this far out, at least not anymore. This place used to be further out than it is now, but civilization worked its way to almost being here. It's a twenty-minute drive to the nearest town. If it were too easy to get here, everyone would have come. I didn’t want just anyone to come, if anyone came at all.”

 “It was a test?”

“Yes, and you passed with flying colors. You see, Rodney, I told you I sent the same letters to everyone, all your cousins and uncles, anyone in the family who might want to come and see me before….”
“And I was the only one?”
She nodded yes. “The rest just ignored the letters. I expect when they read that they would have to spend three days on a horse, they decided it wasn’t worth it, which is fine.

Ester leaned back in the chair and gently rocked it. The subtle squeak of the rocker seemed to echo in the silence of the night.

“Ester, maybe you should start at the beginning. When and why did you move here?”

The old lady stared off into the night stars and tried to push her mind back over the decades.

“Let's see, it was back in the early 60’s, I think. Me and Lois were having a hard time in LA. Eventually, Lois got ill from the asbestos in the insulation in the factories—lung cancer and emphysema.  It killed her. After that, I couldn’t stay in LA anymore. It was too much, too many memories, and many of the people we’d known were leaving and headed to San Francisco. Without Lois, I didn’t feel right staying. I tried to go home. But that didn’t go well. My folks still didn’t want anything to do with me. So….”

“So?”

“I moved around some and stayed in different places. It wasn’t until I landed in the Arizona desert that I felt at home. I did some odd jobs, cleaned house, and tended a bar, stayed at a friend's house for a while Until his wife started getting jealous, thinking there was something between us, which there wasn’t. I lit out in a hurry, had some cash, saw the sign for a lot for sale, and had a look. I liked it, so I looked into it. That's when I met Lloyd Fairbanks, the lawyer. He helped me buy the place and get started. I’d forgotten about the stocks I owned, and he chased them down. Come to find out, they were worth quite a bit, which set me up pretty good here once it was all said and done. Lloyd and I became friends, and he helped me manage the money from the stocks and made a few investments that have paid off nicely. His son Eugene took over after Lloyd retired a few years ago.”

Rodney thought for a minute. By now, his coffee was cold, so he tossed the rest in the weeds at the end of the porch. 

Sitting back down, he tried to think of a question that wasn’t insulting or stupid. “The initial letter said you were ill.”

“Yes, I am.  Aside from being older than the trees I planted here when I moved in, my old bones aren’t happy. They haven’t been for a lot of years, but the docs now tell me my ticker isn’t right. I have a pacemaker and have had one for decades. But now they’re saying it's not helping. At my age, there's not a lot they can do. Sooner rather than later, it's going play out one too many times, and I’m done for good.” She sat back in her chair and stared at the stars.

Rodney leaned back in his chair. He’d only met Ester a few hours ago and knew he’d miss her.

“That's why the horse ride through the desert? To prove I had the guts to deal with your estate?” 

“Yes. You see, I have a substantial estate. Much more than I ever thought I would. I own a couple of companies, and I don’t run them. Obviously, I have people for that, and most of them don’t know who I am. If they knew a 100-year-old woman who was never married and had no kids owned them, they’d have a fit. By rights, I can come in tomorrow and fire every one of them. So, when you take over, you’ll upset some big apple carts.” 

“Take over?”

She nodded. “I’m ancient but not stupid.  I had you checked out long before I sent any letters. I know your background, work ethic, and experience. If I didn’t think you had the balls for the job, I wouldn’t have sent you the letter, and when Eugene said you had agreed to the horse ride, I knew I was right.” She grinned.
Rodney grinned back at her. “So, the big question is…?”

“How much am I worth?” She finished for him. He nodded yes.

“Not exactly sure. Eugene can tell you better when you see him tomorrow, but it's several million dollars. He tried to explain it to me a while back, but I didn’t understand all of it.  Let's just say it's enough to keep us in coffee forever.”  

She stood up, tossed the remains of her coffee out, and headed back to the front door. Taking the hint, he got up and followed her inside.

“You can sleep in the spare room.” She pointed to a door at the far end of the living room. He hadn’t noticed it as the door blended into the dark walls.

                                                                                     ~~~
The morning chill surprised Rodney when he stepped out onto the porch in the early hours—stretching and looking around as the sun worked its way over the mountains surrounding the desert. He slowly realized that he hadn’t felt as at home as he did right now in a very long time.  The quiet of the desert seemed to talk to him. The wind blew slightly as he walked back to the barn. Inside, Betsy was still in her stall. Most of her hay and feed were gone. 

Looking around, he spotted the big bags of feed and the other implements used to tend horses. The barn was old, the walls needed repairs, and the roof didn’t look too good either. But it seemed solid for that it was.
Ester was in the kitchen when he came back into the house a little while later. She poured him a cup of coffee as he sat down at the same spot he’d sat last night.

“Betsy’s been fed and watered, and I cleaned out her stall. I didn’t know if you wanted to put her out in the pen for a while this morning.” 

Ester turned from the stove and grinned again. Her yellow teeth were framed by wrinkles and a tuff of white hair that still refused to say put no matter how she combed it. Her old bathrobe was pulled tight around her and tied together with an old sash cord from a curtain.

“I knew I got it right when I picked you. Thank You. Yeah, let's put her out before it gets too hot. Here’s some eggs and bacon and toast. “She passed him a full plate, took hers, and sat back down in her regular chair at the table.

In between bites, she told him that Eugene had called while he was in the barn and would be out later that morning with all the official documents and records.

With the breakfast dishes done and put away, he waited while Ester retired to her room to get dressed for the day. The living room fascinated him. The more he looked, the more he found. The walls were covered with shelves, knick-knacks, and collections of glass neatly arranged to catch the sun as it came in the big picture window. He wandered to the gun case to look over the guns. None of them looked like they had been touched in years. Other than a couple of hats and a pair of rubber boots, most of the coats looked untouched for a long time. Rodney was flipping through her record collection when she came out of the bedroom.

“You see anything you like? We can play it later if you like. I don’t play them much anymore because I can’t put the needle down without scratching the record and…” She paused for a second to catch her wind. “They bring back too many memories.” She pointed to the record he was holding. “And some belonged to Lois.”
“I’d like that, but only if you’re up to it.” She smiled and led him back into the kitchen. They sat and talked over more coffee.

At about ten a.m., the sound of a car coming up the driveway got their attention. Rodney recognized the car as an old Cadillac, probably late nineteen fifties, judging by the tail fins that graced the back fenders coming to a sharp point at the top.  The rest of the car was well-worn but taken care of. The paint faded, and signs of everyday use around the door handles.  

Eugene’s tall, skinny frame emerged from the car like Jack-in-the-Box, unfolding in slow motion. Eventually, he stood next to the black Cadillac with a leather briefcase, wearing a straw cowboy hat and a two-piece suit almost as faded as the paint on the car.

“Ester, you’re looking good.” He grinned as he came onto the porch and planted a kiss on her cheek and a slight hug with his free hand. 

“Well, Rodney, he's been taking good care of me.” She nodded towards him. Eugene turned to face Rodney. 
“Howdy, I’m Eugene Fairbanks, Mss. Ester’s friend and lawyer.” He stuck out a hand, which Rodney automatically shook as he introduced himself.

“Truth of the matter is Ester’s been taking care of me.  I’m still getting used to this sun and heat.”

Eugene took off his hat for a second, whipped what was left of his blond hair around his nearly bald head, and looked at the sun as he put it back on.
“Yeah, it's a hot one today,”

“Come on, let's get out of the sun and into the cool.” Ester pulled the screen door open and waited. Taking the hint, Rodney leads the way, followed by Eugene and Esther. Five minutes later, they were all seated around the kitchen table with cold drinks, and Eugene's briefcase opened, off to one side, and a couple of piles of papers stacked between them.

“The long and short of it is, Ester, this property alone is worth about a half million. It was always worth way more than you paid for it. The original owners you bought from needed cash badly and let it go for less than it was worth even back then. With the new zoning laws coming into effect and the water source, the property is now worth a lot more.

As for your two businesses, they're doing okay.  The hotel you own in Phoenix is doing well.  The addition of the spaces to host conventions and shows has paid off. They brought in several new specialty shows, like the fountain pen show, which are getting a good draw. People are spending money.”

“It was your idea.”

Eugene blushed and glanced down at his Mont Blanc Fountain Pen in his jacket. He explained to Rodney that he had a collection and was always looking for more.

“As soon as we added the convention space, they held a fountain pen show, which was quite a success. We got people in from all over the States,” Ester piped excitedly.

“Anyway, here's the gist of it, Rodney.” He turned very serious and sat up a little straighter in the chair.
“Miss Ester has made some very good investments from the money from the RCA stock, which she still holds, although it fluctuates a lot and is a bit down right now, but overall has done well. The other business isn’t doing as well. The construction business isn’t losing money but is more dependent on outside influences such as interest rates and suppliers.  We’re thinking of selling that one, but we haven’t made up our mind yet.”
This was all new to Rodney, who had only used hotels and never actually thought about what went into running one.  His construction experience was almost as limited.

“How does all of this impact me?”

“As sole heir and benefactor of her estate, it all goes to you. You will own the hotel, the construction company, this property, and another small property in town.”

“Aren’t there shareholders or boards to run these?”

“They’re both privately owned by her. We never went public and sold stock. There was no reason to. So no, other than a board that runs the hotel and mostly oversees daily operations, there's no one to answer to.”
Now he understood her comment about being able to fire everyone if she wanted. 


Ester started to decline quickly not long after he arrived. It seemed that she willed herself to stay around long enough to make sure her estate was in good hands, and once she knew Rodney was the right one to take over, she let herself leave. 

Over the next several months, Rodney discovered he liked living in the desert. His chronic weather-related health issues subsided, and he generally felt better the longer he stayed in the desert. The laid-back pace of life suited him, and he easily adapted to living in the country. He began to feel at home. 

He had become good friends with the Longwoods and eventually married Elmore, Eugene's daughter. With their help, he introduced several new ideas to the hotel, increasing profitability. The construction company was revamped to become more specialized, in line with what the head contractors were most interested in and best at doing. In the long run, it will increase its market share in a specific type of construction.
​
Rodney woke up one morning to find that twenty years had passed, and he was happier and more relaxed than he ever remembered before he came to the desert. He walked out to the barn and saddled up Becky, the granddaughter of Betsy, the horse he had ridden to his future. They rode down the road the way he had ridden to the house so many years ago. He wanted to see the saguaro again.

Dimensions Of Love Vol 2

Dimensions of Love Vol 1

Dimensions of Fantasy Vol 2

Dimensions of Fantasy Vol. 1

Dimensions of the Wild west Vol. 1

Dimensions of the Wild West Vol. 2

Dimensions of Mystery

Dimensions of Science Fiction: Volume One

Dimensions of Science Fiction: Volume Two

Dimensions of Paranormal Volume One

Dimensions of Paranormal Volume Two

Writers United !   
"​Dimensions of " Anthologies Series


​A series of anthologies with stories written by members of the Writers United Facebook group from around the world.
​Each book contains selection of stories relating to the genre. Mystery, Science Fiction, Paranormal, with more  genres to come. 
 Inside you'll find stories written by me.


​Please support theses fine authors and explore brave new Worlds