Chapter One

 

     As they drove into the main compound, Marge could see why John had been telling her for several weeks that he had to return.             Things were generally the same as they had been when he had been here four years earlier. He had submitted the final five-year plan to Pendergast Construction, and there were 3 new buildings completed, five remodeled and expanded, with one new building in process.  It would become the seventh bunkhouse, a quad layout with 160 bunks, bringing the potential occupancy to over 400 people. One of the bunkhouses had been turned into a PX.

     John drove straight to the main house, where five people were waiting on the porch.  As soon as John parked the car, two people appeared and took their bags. Marge didn't know where they came from.  They were definitely not standing on the porch. 

     They were escorted to the front room of the house, and everyone was introduced.  Marge caught a few names, but knew she would not remember any of them.  Marge did notice one of the names included "Doctor".  Was it because of her pregnancy? Marge didn't know.

     Marge's thought was interrupted.   Had John just had asked a question?  "I'm sorry. My mind was somewhere else."

     John smiled, and pointed.  "Dr. Adams is a GP; he's only here for general emergencies.  He's on the local hospital staff, so I had your doctor send your files to the hospital pediatrics people.  He'll give you an idea of who to talk to."

     Dr. Adams tapped John on the shoulder and said something.  John laughed.

     "When you mention who you are, you might see a slight uptick in the service you get.  Pendergast Construction built the hospital. About half of the buildings are named after Pendergasts, although you will have to look really carefully for the John Pendergast Physical and Maintenance Facility."  

     That statement brought out chuckles from everyone in the room except Marge, who was still looking perplexed.  

     Dr. Adams walked over, and whispered in her ear, “The sign on the building is six inches tall, impossible to read more than two feet away.” 

     Someone walked in from the dining room, and announced that the meal was served.  John checked his watch and saw it was almost 6:00 PM. All except one of the initial groups waved goodbye and left.       Only three walked to the dining room, where three places were set. John held a chair for Marge, then sat down himself.  He looked at the third person at the table, and waited until the serving staff had completed placing platters and bowls on the table.

     John looked again at the person sitting to his right, who smiled, and said,  "Well, little brother, you did as good the second time as you did the first."  

     John looked back at Marge.  "You might have missed the initial introduction.  He only said his name was Andrew. However, it's Andrew Pendergast.  Our mother says he is eleven months older than I am.  Our father says he was found under a rock, and it is therefore impossible to establish his age."  

     Andrew almost fell off his chair, although it wasn't the first he had heard that.  

     John looked at Marge and continued, “AP took over running the Idaho property four years after Jill and I got married.  We had been here for our honeymoon in the homestead cabin near the lake. We almost went back to the motel.  The roof leaked, there were critters living with us, and the wood stove had a smoking problem.”

     John ate a few bites and then said, “The worst problem was the generator wasn’t working.  It’s used to pump water into the storage tank on the rook. Then, when water is needed, it’s gravity fed from the tank.  We spent a week carrying water from the lake. 

     "I looked around for a property manager, someone who would live here twelves months a year, but it was still mostly remote and primitive. On a business trip to Chicago, I had stopped in to see my younger sister, Matty, who was running Pendergast Holdings.  When I explained the situation, she said I should pull AP out of Seattle and send him to Idaho."

     AP chuckled.  "When John dropped a four-inch roll of blueprints on my desk, I pushed them over the side. But you know John.  He doesn't give up.  It took two hours for him to convince me to move here.  And it's the best decision John has ever made."

     John smiled.  "We  formulated one ten-year plan, and two five-year plans.  We are now in the last year of the ten-year plan, and the last year of the second five-year plan.

     "Normally, this is the week of our yearly planning meeting.  I'm here to plan, but not about the ten year plan.  Let's finish eating and I'll explain why we are here."

     Marge smiled and said, "I think this is the best food I've ever eaten.  The prime rib is to die for."

     AP waved his hand around the table and said, "Everything on this table was locally grown, right here on the ranch.  In fact, tomorrow you can visit some of the relatives of the animal that donated his ribs.  This ranch specialized in Black Angus."

     John chuckled again.  "When I was here four years ago, the five year plan included making this ranch self-sufficient in ten years.  Excluding the construction projects, this place has been out of the red for the past two years. If construction is included, the ranch goes black in the next fourteen months."

     AP cleared his throat.  "And you may chalk that up, my dear lady, to your husband.  Who is wrong. Thirteen months."

     The next hour was composed of chitchat, eating, more chitchat, and more eating.  The arrival of a cake with candles announced dinner was almost done.  

     They took their cake and ice cream into the living room.  

     AP caught her questioning look.  "We decided that we've missed so many birthdays, we’d just have one to include everyone."

     Marge looked at the cake.  Andrew was listed with his age, John was listed with his, and hers was two question marks.  

     She laughed.  "Nice diplomacy, Andrew."

     With a smile, AP finally asked the million-dollar question, “OK, John, what do you have planned?”