Treasured in Tennessee

by Kirsten Osbourne

  William was pretty beat, though—and Alec, too, though he’d never admit it—so they decided to drive home a couple hours early. He couldn’t wait to see if their plan worked and Brodie and Aunt Emily were kissing when he got there.

  Surprisingly, they pulled up right before Emily and Brodie did. They all got out of their cars at the same time, and it took only seconds for Alec’s stomachache to get worse.

  “I’m going to get some cleaning done, if you haven’t already called Becca,” Aunt Emily said in a mean, loud voice, her face all red.

  “Fine,” Brodie shot back. “I’ll be in the barn, with the horses. At least there’s one female there that won’t completely flip out on me for no reason at all!” And the two of them stalked in different directions, not even noticing that he and William were back. When Aunt Emily stomped past him, he saw there were tears on her cheeks.

  William sighed and laid a comforting hand on Alec’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, son. Sometimes married couples fight. We just gotta let them work things out on their own. You want to come up to my place and watch some baseball? I think the Giants are playing Detroit.”

  “No, thank you,” Alec muttered. “Thanks for taking me with you this weekend, though. It was really great while it lasted.” He headed for the house. The attic was sounding good right about now. And maybe Bandit would keep him company while he thought about how he was going to put Plan B in motion.

  Emily fumed all the way up to the bedroom. But at the sight of the four-poster bed where she and Brodie had spent so much time that weekend, her anger turned to tears. Instead of sitting down on it—she couldn’t have stood that—she sank down on the floor and pulled out her cellphone. Who to call, though? It wasn’t Becca’s fault that Brodie preferred her cooking, but still, how could she call her friend in this case? She scrolled through her phone.

  Dr. Lachele. The image of the motherly woman with her purple hair popped into her head. The calm, rational matchmaker would certainly have some advice for her.

  She dialed the number, wiping her eyes with the hem of her T-shirt as the phone rang.

  “Matchrimony, Lachele speaking.”

  At the sound of her familiar, perky voice, Emily lost it again. Sobbing, she said brokenly, “Dr. Lachele, this is Emily Murphy—Callahan. I think I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

  Alec knew it wasn’t right to eavesdrop, but as he fed Bandit a cracker, he couldn’t help but hear Aunt Emily in her room, telling someone all about how it was a mistake to have gotten married. She was crying, and he tried to choke back his own tears. There it was. How could he have gotten so comfortable here, knowing that nothing was ever permanent?

  “I’m going to do it,” Alec said decisively. Bandit’s bright eyes looked up at him, and her little nose twitched inquisitively. “No more depending on other people. I’m going out on my own.”

  He tiptoed down the attic stairs, careful of the third step from the bottom, which squeaked loudly if you stepped on it in the right place. He sidled past the closed door to Emily and Brodie’s room and quickly slipped into his own. A few minutes later, he had packed up a change of clothes, his sleeping bag, and a well-worn copy of one of his favorite books—about a boy who lived alone on his own mountain—along with a few other things, and then made his way down to the kitchen. It might have been a better idea to wait until nighttime fully fell, he thought nervously, peeking out the window to see if Brodie or William were around, but he couldn’t. He had to go now.

  Stuffing as many shelf-stable foods as he could find into his bag, he heard a scratching sound behind him and whirled around, expecting to see his aunt in the doorway. Instead, Bandit had crept up behind him, her claws clicking on the floor, probably wanting more crackers. He whispered, “Not now,” and finished loading the bag with bottles of water.

  Then, he was out the door and walking toward the woods, oh so casually, in case anyone saw him. He was mad at Brodie and Aunt Emily, but he wished he could have told William goodbye. But it was too late. Five minutes later, he couldn’t even see the house anymore through the thick trees. Alec was on his own.

  “You know men can be dummies sometimes,” Lachele said in a soothing voice, “But we women aren’t always so bright either.”

  “That’s true—wait, what?” Emily thought she’d heard wrong.

  Lachele laughed, the sound tinkling over the scratchy cell phone connection. “Hon, if my man offered me a full-time housekeeper, especially someone I already knew and liked? I’d be all over that idea before he changed his mind.”

  “But—”

  Lachelle kept talking. “Do you like to cook?”

  “No, but—”

  “Does cleaning floors make your heart go pitty pat?”

  “No—”

  “Then what’s the problem? Your pride? Girlfriend, if there’s something else you really want to be doing with your life, you need to talk to Brodie about it.”

  Emily explained her interior decorating idea, and she could hear Dr. Lachele clapping on her side of the line.

  “That’s perfect!” she crowed. “Not only will you be doing something you love, but you’ll be contributing to the family income. That’s important to an independent woman like you.”

  “But what if we can’t afford it?”

  “Sweetie, you’re asking the wrong person. You need to get off this phone and go talk to your husband. Sit him down and hash things out. It’s not just the two of you that are affected when you fight, you know. Many newlyweds have the luxury of scrapping together with only themselves to worry about. You two have that handsome boy of yours.”

  After Emily said her goodbyes and hung up, guilt was eating her up. She pictured Alec’s face when they’d pulled up behind him and William. How it had gone from complete joy to fear in a split second. She and Brodie had been selfish. It was time to figure things out and then make it up to Alec.

  Ten

  “Brodie Callahan! Come out here.”

  Brodie winced and wished he could crawl into a pile of hay. He’d made such a mess of things, and now, his wife, who he had hoped to avoid for the rest of the day, was outside the barn hollering for him before he’d even had a chance to figure out how to fix everything.

  Not that this was all his fault. Not by a long shot. He narrowed his eyes and leaned back against the stall door behind him. If she wanted to fight, she could come to him.

  Sure enough, after yelling twice more without managing to make her husband appear, Emily had to get over her anxiety and go in the barn. Where the horses were. Sucking in a breath, she stepped into the shadowy interior of the building, where the not-unpleasant smell of horse and straw surrounded her. Her eyes were still adjusting to the dim light when she heard a snuffling sound and almost screamed.

  “Brodie?” She tried to keep it steady, but her voice still shook.

  “Right here, darlin’,” came his voice just ahead. Brodie didn’t sound affectionate. He sounded grumpy enough to be ready for another round. Well, Emily could help him out with that.

  To her left, suddenly a huge black shape materialized, close enough that she could see the whites of its eyes and the huge yellowed teeth it showed, just before it whinnied piercingly. Instead of screaming, Emily crumpled to the ground in a dead faint.

  Brodie saw Emily coming, her lush curves and curly hair illuminated by the afternoon sunlight. She looked almost nervous, he thought, losing some of his irritation to curiosity. When Bella, the mare, popped her head over the stall in her usual friendly way to greet their visitor, Emily simply fell. Without sparing another thought for their argument, he ran to his wife, who was so pale, a few freckles stood out on her pert nose that he’d never even noticed before. He scooped her up in his arms and took her back out into the sunshine and fresh air.

  “Sweetheart,” he said roughly, setting her down, “Come on. Wake up.” He rubbed her chilled hands and, in a moment, her eyes popped open.

  “Did it bite me?” she gasped immediately, trying to sit up
.

  “No, Bella didn’t bite you. Calm down,” he said softly, rubbing her arms to try and calm her panic. “Why didn’t you tell me you were afraid of horses?”

  Emily shuddered and glared at him like he had asked a dumb question. “Country wives are supposed to love horses.”

  “Not if they’re scared to death of them,” Brodie retorted. Then, the lightbulb finally went on. He sank down cross-legged in the deep grass beside her. “There’s a lot of other things that ‘country wives’ are supposed to like, too, aren’t there? Things like cooking and cleaning up after a few sloppy guys?”

  Emily looked back at him challengingly. “Okay, so I’m not the typical farmer’s wife. Is that any reason to suggest that I would leave my family? Or to hire a full-time housekeeper when we can’t afford it?”

  “We can’t afford it?” Brodie asked, genuinely puzzled. “And no, I don’t believe you would leave us. I’m sorry that I ever said that. It’s just so frustrating, trying to figure out what you really want when you won’t tell me. All I want is for you to be as happy as I am in this marriage.”

  Emily plucked a long blade of grass and stared at it, spinning it between her fingers. “I guess that when you said that, it hit me in a sore spot. I’ve never been able to see anything through, but I’ve also never done anything as important as becoming a wife and mom. I could never leave you or Alec. I love you both too much.”

  Brodie couldn’t stand it anymore. She looked so sad, and his heart was definitely not in the fight anymore. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her, running a big hand down her back. “I love you, too,” he murmured into her springy red curls. “I think I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you at the church.”

  “How did we get so off track?” she whispered into his shirt.

  “Maybe by being busier trying to build a life than we were building a functioning marriage?” He grinned, to take any sting out of the words. “And, for the record, we’re not poor by any standards.”

  “What do you mean?” She leaned back to look up at him warily.

  “Darlin’, I’m not just good with horses. I’m good with investments. I saved just about every penny I made for ten years, and in my downtime, instead of going to the bars in Deadwood with the other ranch hands, I booted up my old laptop and played the stock market. Even after paying for this place and all the repairs so far, I figure we’ve got about five million or so left.”

  Emily looked so cute with her mouth hanging open that Brodie just had to laugh, closing it with a kiss.

  “Hey!” William’s voice, sounding urgent, interrupted them. He was heading down the driveway toward them at a pace much faster than his usual hitching gait. “Either of you seen Alec anywhere?”

  Emily pulled back from Brodie’s embrace and jumped to her feet. “He’s not in the house? His door was closed. I thought he was in his room.”

  William reached them, out of breath, and gave the Emily and Brodie a shaming look. “The boy did go to the house, all upset when you two came home fighting like a pair of cats. I just went there to check on him, but he’s gone.”

  Alec heard Brodie calling for him an hour or two before, but he didn’t answer. He just kept climbing farther into the mountain, figuring he needed to put some distance between him and Brodie and Aunt Emily before he tried to find a place to set up camp for the night. Part of him wanted to answer Brodie, just give up and go back, no matter what happened, but he didn’t want to spend every day wondering if that would be the one that saw his current family fall apart. So, he kept climbing.

  He slipped at one point, crossing a stream, and his feet got wet, which made walking uncomfortable. Alec wished he had grabbed another pair of shoes. And the woods were getting more shadowy with each passing hour. He couldn’t even see how high the sun was in the sky because the canopy of trees was so thick, and the sky had gotten gray above them. He’d forgotten his watch, so he couldn’t tell if it was because night was coming or if it was going to rain. Finally, he decided that it was going to be too dark to see if he went on much longer and found a small clearing that looked good enough to stay in for the night.

  In the book he’d read, the boy had used a flint and steel to start his fire, but Alec only had a box of matches. He gave up after using half of them, deciding that it was a good thing the wet kindling wouldn’t light. He didn’t want to be found if the fire gave him away. He pulled out his sleeping bag and set it up next to a fallen log, so he’d have something at his back at least, but the moisture from the ground soon soaked into the bag, making it feel damp and uncomfortable. Pine boughs for a bed next time, he remembered.

  He lay in the bag anyway as it got darker and darker around him, and a rustling sound gave him the shivers before he realized it was just rain. Rain that soon picked up speed with a grumble of distant thunder. Why couldn’t he have found a handy hollowed-out tree or something?

  Hours later, it was fully dark, and Alec couldn’t sleep. Rain dripped off his cold nose. He kept hearing noises and thinking about Aunt Emily’s not-so-secret fears of bears in the woods. Those fears didn’t seem so silly now.

  Something made a loud noise in the underbrush nearby, and Alec froze, too afraid to cry out. If it was a bear, he was going to get eaten. He didn’t have anything to fight it off with. He pulled his small penlight out of his shirt, where he’d put it in hopes of saving the battery and keeping it dry, and held it in front of his face with a shaking hand. Rustling noises came closer, and his only hope was to blind whatever it was that was coming up to him.

  At the last second, he turned on the light. The thin, wavering beam revealed a pair of shining eyes and a small hunched shape that had him sucking in his breath to scream. But a familiar chittering noise stopped him, and he let out his breath in a gasping laugh. It was Bandit.

  Emily had never been so scared in her life.

  She sat with Becca in the kitchen, clutching a cup of coffee to warm her hands. She couldn’t drink it. She’d already had countless cups. Outside, lightning flashed starkly, followed only a second later by a crash of thunder. Alec was out in that. And so was Brodie.

  Becca’s face was drawn with worry, but she tried to sound reassuring. “He’ll be fine. My brothers know these mountains like the back of their hands. They’ve been running around in all the nooks and hollows since they were younger than Alec.”

  “It’s after two in the morning,” Emily said bleakly. “It’s been storming for hours. Alec’s probably so miserable right now.”

  “That’ll teach him not to do it again,” William said brusquely from the doorway of the dining room. He’d said he was going to nap in the parlor until they heard something, but he hadn’t been able to sleep yet. He kept popping back into the kitchen restlessly. William’s words were tough, but his face was etched with strain. He gave a half-smile. “They’ll be pulling up on those noisy four-wheelers any time now, and you mark my words: this will all be just an exciting adventure to share with his new friends at school in a few weeks.”

  As if his words were prophetic, the three of them heard a roar of engines in the distance that slowly grew louder. Emily threw open the kitchen doors to the wind and rain and saw headlights cutting through the fog. The two four-wheelers pulled up, and Emily made out four figures, shrouded in rain slickers. One of the figures was short and slim.

  Heedless of her bare feet, she ran out into the rain and pulled Alec into her arms. She pushed back his slicker and glared into his pale face. “Alec Christopher Murphy, I don’t care if you don’t like hugs.” She proceeded to wrap him so tightly in her arms so tightly, Alec thought she’d never let go. He let the tears fall, finally, hoping she wouldn’t.

  After Becca’s brothers, grinning bearded twins in their late thirties, were plied with hot coffee and thanked profusely, the three of them left. Becca promised to swing by late in the morning to check on them and said she’d bring coffee cake. William just shook one gnarled finger in Alec’s face and grabbed him tight in a one-armed hug.
“We’re going to talk about the proper things you need to take with you next time you plan on living in the woods, you little city slicker,” he warned before heading back to his apartment.

  Dressed in warm pajamas, clutching a mug of hot cocoa, Alec was left with Brodie and Aunt Emily. He looked up at them nervously.

  “Don’t ever do that again, you hear me?” Brodie said roughly, his hair still wet from the rain and sticking up in spikes in some places. “Do you know what could have happened to you out there?”

  Alec flinched at the tone and ducked his head.

  He jumped when big, strong arms came around him and held him tight. Peeking up at Brodie, he was surprised to see tears in the man’s eyes. In his experience, men never cried, and he felt his own throat tightening. To keep Brodie from seeing him lose it, Alec pushed his face into his flannel shirt. Smaller arms came around both of them, and he heard his Aunt Emily crying, too.

  “Alec,” she said thickly, tightening her hold, “No matter how Brodie and I fight, we will never leave you, never stop loving you, and never stop loving one another. This family is going to stick.”

  “Ditto,” rumbled Brodie.

  Alec felt something that had been like a tight knot loosen in his chest. He believed them. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he was home.

  “Em, Brodie, I’m home!” Alec raced into the house, dropping his backpack on the floor and grabbing a cookie out of the flowery antique jar on the counter. He squinted at it for a sec. Not too hard or black on the bottom. Looked like one of Becca’s. Biting into it, he ran through the frou frou dining room and parlor and thudded up the stairs.