by Robyn Carr
Another moment of silence. “This is a better place for you, I think,” Ursula said.
He grinned at his sister. “I agree. I’m very excited about Nathaniel’s plans. And it’s good to be near family.” He took a breath. “I have a favor to ask. Would you like to discuss it in private?”
“Is it obscene?” she countered.
He swallowed. “I want to bring Gabe out here. I wish I could have him live with me, but that’s not possible where I’m living right now. So I’m wondering if he could live with you. That way at least I could see him every day. I’d like him to do his last year of high school at your kids’ school. I want to start training him as a farrier, if he’s interested, but more important, I want him to live with two professionals, two college graduates who encouraged his cousins to go to college.” He looked away just briefly, then back at his sister and brother-in-law. “It’s time. It’s past time. I hope I haven’t waited too long.”
Ursula reached across the table and covered Clay’s hand with her own. “You know nothing could make me happier.”
Then Lincoln’s voice, loud and stern, boomed across the table. “The boy will thrive here, even though he’s Navajo.”
The entire family laughed softly, respectfully. There was no bad blood between Cherokee and Navajo, but they each thought themselves a bit more evolved, wiser, stronger.
“I agree, sir. Thank you for that welcoming remark. I know my parents, aunts and uncles have done a fine job raising him while I’ve been trying to set up a life, but I’m planning to be here for the long haul, and I’d love to finally have a normal father-son relationship with Gabe. I haven’t been with him enough.”
“You were young, Clay. And you did very well as a father. Gabe hasn’t suffered. He had good role models and he was raised with love and every advantage.”
Clay looked at his sister and whispered, “Thank you, Ursula.”
“No,” she said, “thank you! I love that boy.”
Much later, after coffee and some of the best pie imaginable, Ursula walked Clay out to his truck. “I meant what I said, you know. I’m so glad you’re here and I hope this works for you. I want you close and happy. And I want you to have the life you want with your son, finally.”
“I think that will be the case,” he said. But what he thought was, The life I really want is yours. The life I thought I’d have, filled with family and intimacy and friendship and trust. It happens around your table and I always dreamed my table would be the same.
He pushed the self-pitying thoughts from his mind. “I’m very glad to be near you and your family again,” he said. “But I don’t like your husband’s haircut.”
“I don’t know what possessed him,” she said, looking over her shoulder as if Tom might be there, listening. “He said he’s tired of it. Lincoln gave him a lot of shit.”
Clay lifted his dark brows. “Nice talk for the police chief’s wife.”
“Aw, cut me some slack—I’m not around the elders or children and I bet you’ve heard that word before.” Then she grinned. “Clay, you know I’ve wanted Gabe here with me since he was little. I know Father was right, that I should concentrate on my own children and I know Gabe did well with the Tahomas, but I want you to know, this is as happy a day for me as for you.”
“If he’ll come,” Clay said. “I won’t force him. He’s been on the reservation a long time and it’s a safe place for him.”
“He’ll come,” she said, giving him a reassuring smile. “He might be comfortable where he is, but when he’s with you he comes alive. He wants to be with his father. This is a very good thing—for all of us.”
Clay smiled. “I’m glad you’re happy about it, Ursula. Because I’ve heard Tom say that when you’re happy, everyone is happy.”
“It’s true,” she said, not embarrassed in the least by that comment. “How soon can he be here?”
“Let me call him tomorrow and let you know.”
“Thank you, Clay. Thank you for trusting me with your son.”
He felt a small surge in his breast; he was so proud of his sister. She was a good woman, a good wife, a good mother. He grabbed her to him, held her tight and said, “Thank you, Ursula. I love you like a sister.”
She laughed and hugged him. Hard.
Except for visiting his father out in L.A. a few times, Gabe’s home since his birth had been with his grandparents. Clay had hoped for this day for a very long time, the day he could offer his son a home at least close enough that they could see each other every day. It was tempting to head for the reservation, gather up his boy and bring him back to California. But Gabe was a young man now—a seventeen-year-old; it would be selfish of Clay to insist on this change if it wasn’t in his son’s best interest, if it wouldn’t make him happy. So rather than traveling out there, he called.
Out of respect, Clay spoke first to his father about bringing Gabe to California. He then spoke to his mother. Their response was as expected—Gabe was past the age of having such decisions made for him and if he chose to leave their house to be closer to his father and aunt, they would respect his decision. Likewise, Clay would have to respect Gabe’s decision if he chose to stay with his grandparents.
It was only after introducing the idea to the elder Tahomas that Clay talked about it with Gabe.
“But I have friends here,” was Gabe’s response. “And my cousins…”
“I’m not going to force the issue, son,” Clay said. “If you’d rather stay with your grandparents, that’s what you should do. Just keep a couple of things in mind before you make a final decision—I would have brought you with me a long time ago if I’d been in a position to do it, but my life was unstable in too many ways until now, until I moved to your aunt Ursula’s part of the world. You’re getting to that age where you have to make some future plans, and I’d like those plans to include more education. And before you strike out on your own, I want a little time with you.”
“You could come home,” Gabe said. “There’s room for you here. There’s work here, too.”
Although they’d been over this before, Clay answered patiently, “As the family grows, the potential for success is spread over more and more people. The company you’ll keep is excellent, but opportunity is limited. And if everything goes as planned here, I may be able to settle in permanently. And you have cousins here, as well. We could work together. Nathaniel has asked me to do some hiring, and I’m going to need a part-timer. It could be ideal if you want to go to school out here, too. But this is up to you. You might try it, son. Give it six months and see how it goes.”
There was only silence on the phone.
“Take some time to think it over, Gabe,” Clay said. “I don’t want you to have regrets.”
“I need to be with my father,” the boy finally said. “Grandfather says you need looking after.”
Clay let out a bark of laughter. “Does he, now? I’ll have to thank him for the confidence he shows in me. School starts out here very soon, Gabe. I’ll come and get you….”
“No, let me come on my own. I’m not a kid. I want you to show some confidence in me.”
It was settled that Gabe would drive himself from Flagstaff; he was adamant. He owned a little green truck that Clay had helped him buy last year and he saw himself as a man capable of traveling alone. He wanted a couple of weeks to say his goodbyes, then he would be on his way.
Clay wanted to make the trip with him, but he had to remind himself that when he was Gabe’s age, he was already a father. They may have lived with the family, but that didn’t mean Clay wasn’t up through the night when Gabe was hungry, teething, sick or just asserting himself. Clay hadn’t left the boy to seek a better life for them until Gabe was eleven, and even then he was back home often to be sure he was not forgotten.
“I’ve hoped for this day to come for a very long time, Gabe,” Clay said.
Clay wasted no time in speaking with Nathaniel about Gabe. “He won’t be staying with me, though I w
ouldn’t be surprised if he camped the occasional night. He’s going to stay with my sister and her family in Grace Valley. It’s close so I’ll be able to see him all the time, but the most important reason is that Ursula is a gifted teacher and her children have all been great students. She gets very involved in their homework, she knows all the teachers, and she’s devoted to Gabe, who is far smarter than he realizes. She’ll coach him in the SATs—he needs to retake the tests for college. But I want to bring him on as a hand, Nathaniel. Given that my father and uncles have raised him, he knows about horses and—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Nate said, holding up a hand. “Wait a minute here. Isn’t he just a little kid?”
“He’s seventeen. Ready for his last year of high school.”
Nathaniel rubbed the top of his head. “When you mentioned that you had a son, I assumed… Clay, you’re not that old yourself.”
Clay grinned. “I was seventeen when he was born. His mother was a teenager, also, and wanted to give him up, but I couldn’t. I brought him home to the family.”
“How is it I’ve known you so long and didn’t know the details about your son?”
Clay chuckled with some embarrassment. “I didn’t throw that around a lot, but one of the reasons I traveled back to the reservation so often was more because of Gabe than other family. Since I was never married to the boy’s mother, it was important that I be there for him. With your permission, if he proves competent—which he will—I’ll give him some work around the barn after school and on weekends. It’s important he work, earn a little money. And frankly, we need good help.”
“Sure, I don’t have a problem with that,” Nate said.
Clay grinned and stood a little taller. “I’ll see if I can refine the boy’s farrier skills and train him on our digital equipment so he has a trade, but I want my son to go further in his life than I have.”
“Shew,” Nate said. “Didn’t he live with you and Isabel?”
“It was complicated. Her family wasn’t exactly into my bringing a kid along into our marriage. And besides, I was raised a certain way, a traditional way, surrounded by family who all took a role. In our community it really does take a village. Despite the fact that I grew up to make some stupid mistakes, I know it wasn’t really the fault of my teachers. Gabe visited me in Los Angeles, but for all kinds of reasons it wasn’t the right place for him to stay. The only person invested in him was me and I had too much responsibility. It prevented me from keeping a close hand on him. And Isabel’s father…he never seemed to warm up to Gabe. For that matter, he never really warmed up to me. And Isabel had trouble, as well—she’s not very maternal.” He shook his head. “Gabe had fun there on visits, but it wasn’t a good place for a young boy. Gabe was at that age. He needed a lot of positive reinforcement and a firm hand.”
“Bring him on,” Nate said. “I can’t wait to meet him. Why did I think your life was uncomplicated?”
“I have no idea, Nathaniel.”
Five
Clay had stocked his small refrigerator and a cupboard with a few items for quick, easy meals, and he’d had dinner with Nate and Annie a couple of times, but by far the best tip he’d gotten since arriving in the area was about Jack’s Bar. Nathaniel mentioned that he and Annie met at Jack’s in Virgin River and enjoyed some of the most delectable dinners they’d ever had while taking care of a boxful of puppies…and falling in love. Since Clay had met Jack on his way into town, watching that group of men as they pulled the old pickup up the hill, he was anxious to give the bar a try. Clay wasted no time in getting over there to see what was on the menu.
The first revelation—there was no menu. Preacher served up one dinner item daily and decided what it would be based on whatever suited him that day. It was whispered to Clay that there were sometimes leftovers from previous nights, and nobody would take offense if he preferred those to the special of the day. But Clay was more than satisfied with any of Preacher’s dinners—the man knew what to do with a piece of meat. Jack proved a pleasant dinner companion, making introductions as people wandered into the bar, then standing on the other side of the bar with his coffee while Clay ate.
By his third visit to Jack’s bar, Clay knew all the regulars. The local constable and Jack’s brother-in-law, Mike Valenzuela, dropped by frequently. Jack’s wife, the local midwife, Mel, would take a swing through before heading home from work. If she had a house call, she’d drop off their small children for Jack to tend, or she’d drop them at Preacher’s house to be tended by a sitter or Preacher’s wife, Paige. He saw the town minister again; Noah Kincaid made it a point to drop by and visit with folks. And there was Hope McCrea, town busybody, who stopped by almost daily for her shot of Jack Daniel’s.
“Do anything special?” Hope asked him right off.
“Special?” he asked, picking up his coffee. “I shoe horses. And do some other stable chores.”
She snorted, held up a finger to order her drink and shook a cigarette out of her pack. “Haven’t got any use for that,” she informed him.
“Lucky for me, Nathaniel Jensen does.”
“That who brought you to town? The vet?”
“Yes, ma’am. We go way back. And I have a sister in Grace Valley—Ursula Toopeek.”
“Is that a fact? I don’t know Mrs. Toopeek, but I’ve had a little traffic with the police chief.”
“Have a little trouble with the law?” he asked, the corners of his mouth twitching.
She grinned at him and pushed her heavy black-framed glasses up the bridge of her nose. “You should fit in around here. Just another smart-ass.”
Clay liked the cranky old woman. But theirs was not to be a lengthy relationship, it turned out. On his fourth visit to Jack’s for dinner, Jack’s wife came into the bar. She jumped up on a bar stool without saying hello to anyone and, looking grimly serious, she said, “I have some sad news, Jack. Bruce was delivering mail to Hope McCrea and noticed some had piled up in her box. He walked around the house to see if anything seemed out of order…. He found her on the back porch.” A tear slid down Mel’s cheek. “She’s dead, Jack.”
He looked thunderstruck. “I wondered if she was okay—she hasn’t come by for a couple of days. Not that it’s totally unusual—sometimes days go by before we see her—especially when she’s got some project going on. But, man… Natural causes?”
“I guess you could say so,” Mel said with a sniff. She pulled a tissue out of her pocket. “It wasn’t a homicide, but she was sitting in her porch chair, her cigarette burned down to her fingertips. She was eighty, Jack. Bruce called the county coroner to pick her up, but I can’t think of any reason there would be an investigation.”
“Damn,” Clay said. “I liked her. She reminded me of some of my family.” They turned and looked at him. He shrugged. “I’d have taken her for at least ninety-five.” He turned to Mel and touched her arm gently. “You gonna be all right?”
“She brought me to Virgin River,” Mel informed him. “Well, she tricked me, but she got me here and for that I owe her a lot. If it wasn’t for Hope, I wouldn’t know my husband, wouldn’t have had my children.” She looked back at Jack. “I have even worse news. You’re going to have to go in that house. You’re probably the closest thing to family she’s got and someone has to go in, look around, figure out what’s to be done next. Hope would spin in her grave if that house was taken by the bank or state for unpaid taxes. There must be a bankbook or will or something in there somewhere. If you can’t find anything, we should keep up the bills until we can figure something out.”
“Awww, Mel…” he said.
Clay shot him a look. “Did you just whine?”
“You gotta understand, Clay. I’m pretty sure that house is something out of a nightmare. I don’t think Hope threw anything away in at least fifty years.”
“When I got here and asked her if there was a better place to stay than the falling-down, leaky cabin she had arranged for me,” Mel said, “she said it would
take her all night to clear a space on her couch for me. Jack’s right—it can’t be good. But she looked after this town. Likely she had some kind of plan. Maybe Jack can unearth a deed or strongbox or something. Or, like with old Doc Mullins when he went, at least a scrawled-out note of intentions.”
“Can’t the police go in there?” Jack asked.
“I think you should take the police, by all means. Your brother-in-law, Mike—local police. Take Preacher, too. I think Clay here might like to go along—Hope reminds him of family members.”
“Not enough for that,” Clay said.
“Gather your troops, Jack,” Mel said. “Go tell Preacher. Call Mike and Paul Haggerty. It wouldn’t hurt to have a minister along—give Noah a call—he’ll go with you. The house will keep till morning. It might scare the liver out of you at night.”
“Are you coming with me?”
She shook her head. “Not a chance. That place is bound to give us all bad dreams.”
Five men stood in the doorway of Hope’s house, which had not been locked. Mike Valenzuela, Paul Haggerty, Noah Kincaid, Preacher and Jack.
“Holy Mother of God,” Preacher said. “She really didn’t throw anything away.”
“I bet she could have been on that TV show,” Noah said. “You know the one—about the hoarders. Ellie loves that show.”
It turned out to be the predictable truth that Hope was a pack rat, but although her house—every single room of it—was stacked with things she’d saved, she had somehow never crossed the line into saving newspapers or empty cans and bottles. She might have saved a lot of useless stuff but at first glance it didn’t appear she’d saved garbage. And, to Hope’s credit, may she rest in peace, the house could be navigated easily enough. She’d made definite paths through the clutter.
“I’m just trying to figure out when she had the time to buy any of this stuff,” Jack said. “She was always working on a project, getting in people’s business or gardening. Anyone have any idea how many rooms we got here?”
