Black Single Dad Went Looking for Work on a Farm — He Didn't Know a Millionaire Would Make Him Rich
Chapter 4
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She was in her early 30s, with golden blonde hair tied back in a loose knot. She wore a faded cream henley with the sleeves pushed up, and her jeans were dusted with dried grass and barn dirt. A smear of grease ran along one forearm. She looked like someone who had been working since sunrise, because she had. Her amber-brown eyes moved over him quickly and sharply. In less than three seconds, she took in his dusty boots, his worn shirt, his empty hands, and the old pickup sitting crooked by the gate."Can I help you?" she asked. Her voice was smooth and clear, with the crisp cadence of someone educated in the city, but there was steel underneath it."Afternoon, ma'am," Luke said, keeping his chin level. "I'm looking for the farm manager."Something flickered across her face. It was there and gone so fast that Luke could not have named it."I handle the hiring around here," she said.Luke nodded. In his experience, a big operation like this had an owner who lived in the city and a manager who did the real work. The owner wore pressed slacks and drove in on weekends; the manager wore grease on her arm and opened the barn door herself. He decided she was the manager.She did not correct him.Her name was Clare Vance, and every acre Luke could see belonged to her. Nine months earlier, her father, Marcus Vance, had died in his sleep without warning. He had left her sole trustee of an agricultural estate worth more than $30 million. Since the funeral, Clare had dealt with bankers who talked down to her, lawyers who billed her for nothing, and neighbors who smiled at church and then called developers on Monday morning. She had learned that the moment people heard the word owner, they started performing.Her father had taught her a lesson when she was a girl sitting on a hay wagon beside him:If you want to know who a man really is, Marcus used to say,watch how he treats the people he thinks can't do a thing for him.So Clare let the stranger believe she was just the woman who did the hiring. She wanted to see what he would do with that."Word down at the feed co-op," Luke said, "is that you've got 60 acres of orchard grass on the ground and you lost two hands this week."Clare crossed her arms. A faint, humorless smile touched one corner of her mouth.