BooksBarbecue
Back Legacy of Lies
Chapters (88)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. COPYRIGHT PAGE
  3. DEDICATION
  4. CONTENTS
  5. PART ONE
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. PART TWO
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. PART THREE
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. 44
  52. 45
  53. 46
  54. 47
  55. 48
  56. 49
  57. 50
  58. 51
  59. 52
  60. 53
  61. 54
  62. 55
  63. 56
  64. 57
  65. 58
  66. 59
  67. PART FOUR
  68. 60
  69. 61
  70. 62
  71. 63
  72. 64
  73. 65
  74. 66
  75. 67
  76. 68
  77. 69
  78. 70
  79. 71
  80. 72
  81. 73
  82. 74
  83. 75
  84. 76
  85. 77
  86. EPILOGUE
  87. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  88. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Booker T. guffawed. “Bo, I’m a farmer, not a developer. I think you’re already doing what you should do with this land. Besides, working your farm is the only job I have left, and I don’t want to lose it too.”

Bo ran a finger over his lips and then stuck his hands in his pockets. “Do you think the employees you lost would come back to work for you if you were able to pay them?”

“In a heartbeat,” Booker T. said. “They all hated to leave in the first place.”

“What about the farms you were leasing? Would the owners take you back and let you start farming their land again?”

Booker T. bit down on the fingernail of his thumb. “I think a few would.”

“Got any equipment left?”

Booker T. pointed out a hundred yards to the south. “A combine and two tractors that I’ve been keeping in your barn.”

Bo gripped his cousin’s arm. “Look, I wasn’t there to help you when everything went crazy, and I can’t help you get your farm back.” He paused and squeezed Booker T.’s arm. “But I want to help now. How much do you need to get operational?”

Booker T. blinked his eyes. “Bo, I can’t take your charity.”

“Not charity, cuz. I’m going to loan you some money. But the terms are going to be family friendly.” He smiled. “No interest, and you can pay me back when you can. Now, how much?”

Booker T. gazed down at the wooden floor and rubbed his chin. “Fifty thousand dollars?”

“That’s not near enough, and you know it.”

Booker T. bit on his thumbnail again. “A hundred fifty?”

“Done,” Bo said. “I’ll transfer the money tomorrow.”

Booker T.’s eyes had moistened. “Thank you, cousin.”

“You’re welcome,” Bo said. “I’m also going to pay you a fifty-thousand-dollar consultant’s fee for helping me with Walton Farm.” Bo gestured over the railing.

“You still call it that? Even though it’s yours now.”

Bo gripped the wooden railing and gazed out over the rows of corn. “Until we can do something else with it, that’s all this property will ever be to me.”

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A few minutes later, they stood by their respective vehicles. As Booker T. was opening the door to his pickup truck, he peered at Bo. “Thank you for coming last night, Bo. I . . . needed a wake-up call.”

“You almost got more than that. If it hadn’t been for . . .” Bo trailed off and looked past his Sequoia to the north and in the direction of Booker T.’s old farm.

“Any ideas on who our guardian angel is?” Booker T. asked.

“No. You?”