Deal of a Lifetime

by T. R. McClure

  Alex looked through the window. Aunt Hope was rubbing off each of the dogs with towels.

  Cy still thought he could get away with giving orders. But they were no longer children. Alex headed down the steps and followed his cousin. Sera was in no shape for Cy’s strong-arm tactics. For some reason, Alex felt the need to protect her. He walked up the incline and peeked through the open doors of the barn. Empty. The barn had been power washed multiple times in preparation for the wedding. There was neither a cobweb nor a piece of hay to be seen. Round tables and chairs filled the space to the left. But all wedding preparation had been halted. Kristen was back in the city.

  Alex was about to go down the small set of stairs to see if Cy and Sera were in the lower part of the barn when something caught the corner of his eye.

  He turned. And there they were. Not fifty feet away. Sera was crying, the tears mixing with the rain on her face. Cy stood like a tree, watching her.

  “Hold her, man. What’s wrong with you?” The words came out of Alex’s mouth before he knew what he was saying. But he needn’t have worried he would be overheard. His words were drowned out by the thunder of the hailstones pounding the metal roof of the barn. All he could do was stare. But what he saw next felt like one of the hailstones had flown down his throat and spread its iciness through his stomach.

  Cy knelt on one knee in the mud at the edge of the cornfield.

  “No. No, Cyrus.” Alex leaned back against the barn, but he couldn’t tear his gaze from the scene in front of him. Cy on bended knee, taking Sera’s hand. Sera crying.

  He stepped into the barn, out of the icy rain and out of sight of Cy and Sera. And just in time. Sera ran past the barn, followed closely by Cy. Alex tipped his face up to the sky, shivering. How could Cy ask Sera to marry him, especially when Alex himself was in love with the woman?

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  SERA SAT AT the head of the kitchen table, a towel looped around her neck, warming icy fingers by wrapping her hands around the brown mug with the yellow flower. In the air the rich scent of coffee mixed with the heavy odor of wet dog. Lucky and Rocky lay on their beds, each dog with his own beach towel.

  “You should take a hot shower.” Aunt Hope sat in the rocker, Bella asleep in her arms. “This baby’s tuckered out. She’ll sleep until you get back.”

  Sera twisted in her chair, her body felt as if it were weighed down with bricks. “Don’t try to carry her, okay?”

  “I’ll be fine. You go take a hot shower. You’ll feel better.”

  Passing through the hall, Sera stopped and addressed the eighteen-year-old girl in the graduation picture on the wall. “I doubt it.” She stood at the bottom of the carpeted stairs. Never had they looked so steep and so long.

  Thirty minutes later she stood in the same spot, still with wet hair but at least shampooed and combed. She tightened the belt around the flannel robe and shuffled down the hall toward the kitchen. Her eighteen-year-old self still smiled. “You don’t have a clue,” she muttered.

  Two empty soup cans sat next to the stove, where Hope stirred a pot. Expecting to see Bella in the high chair and preparing to chastise her great-aunt for lifting the baby, she stopped when she spied Alex in the rocking chair, Bella asleep in his arms.

  No one spoke as Sera got bowls from the cupboard. While Hope filled the bowls, Sera took Bella from Alex and carried her into the den, settling her in the crib. The child moved her lips in and out and then sighed softly.

  Returning to the kitchen, she sat with Hope and Alex. The only sound was the clinking of spoons against china and the pounding of rain on the roof. Sera scraped the last bit of soup from her bowl. “Has anybody heard from Cy?” At Alex’s startled glance she added, “About Bob.”

  Alex nodded. “He drove back to the hospital. Bob has two cracked ribs and a mild concussion. They’re keeping him overnight for observation.”

  “Thank goodness.”

  “It could’ve been much worse.” A box of homemade chocolate chip cookies lay on the counter. Taking one for herself, she set the box in the middle of the table. “Where did these come from?”

  “Sue Campbell gave them to me. She said you were interested in their house. Where would she get an idea like that?” Hope got up and put the teakettle on the stove.

  “I talked to her before Chance came home. I thought her house would be a good location for us. It’s only a short distance from Mrs. Hershberger and the church.”

  “That’s true.” The teakettle whistled and then quieted as soon as her great-aunt lifted it off the burner. She added the hot water to her cup. “Someone should tell her things have changed. We’re not selling.”

  At her words Sera’s shoulders slumped. She looked across the table at Alex. He only shook his head.

  It was now or never. “You know, of course, the corn is ruined.” Somehow saying the words released the tension in her gut. This was the moment. Letting the air out of the balloon. Let the air out or break, right?

  Hope brought her cup to the table, dabbing the tea bag up and down, up and down. She reached for a cookie. “Are you sure? A couple days of sun might bring them right back.” Her attention was focused on squeezing the tea bag, adding sugar.

  Sera winced. No amount of positive thinking was going to help. “Maybe for the field corn. It still has a month to go. But the sweet corn? I already had orders for next week. It’s gone. Ruined.”

  Hope carried her bowl to the sink and proceeded to run water for dishes. “You have other produce. And the apples.”

  “The apples are probably on the ground, Hope. Ruined, as well. I have no produce. And if I have no produce, I have nothing to sell and no income. The taxes are past due. It’s over.”

  Hope turned from the sink. For the first time Sera saw her as she truly was. A woman in her nineties. Lines fanned out across her pale cheeks. Her tiny figure was bent. “You’re not selling Last Chance Farm.”

  Tension made her body stiff as Sera stood. “I can’t do it anymore, Hope. You and Shawn should be enjoying retirement, relaxing, going on vacations. We just keep plowing the soil, planting, reaping the harvest. Every year it’s the same thing. Backbreaking work. And now we lost the harvest.” The tightness in her chest was back. She knew she was raising her voice to the older woman but if she didn’t, Hope wouldn’t hear. “And we never get ahead. Never. The money from the wedding was going to cover the insurance, but now that’s gone, too. We’re finished.” By now she was shrieking at the top of her lungs, something she had never before done. She wondered if perhaps she, too, was finished. A wail came from the den. Aunt Hope started toward the hall.

  “Stop. I’ll get her.” Sera left Alex and her great-aunt in the kitchen and went to soothe the crying baby. She picked up Bella and settled onto the couch, rocking her back and forth. “I’m not sure your father did you any favors bringing you back to Bear Meadows, little girl. You might’ve been better off in Kentucky.”

  * * *

  ALEX STARTED TO follow Sera, but Hope laid a hand on his arm. “Give her a minute. Sit down. I want to talk with you.”

  Alex took his seat. From the den they heard Sera’s murmurs and the occasional protest from Bella. Soon everything was quiet.

  “Tea?”

  Alex nodded. He sat while the woman prepared his tea and set the cup before him. Then she joined him. “Your cousin wants this farm in the worst way.”

  “He’s just trying to expand, Hope. Can you blame him?”

  She stirred her tea, the spoon’s clinking against the cup was the only sound in the house. “Did you know my father won this farm in a horse race?”

  “Sera mentioned it.”

  “I wasn’t born yet. My parents were married and living in Philadelphia. Remember, this is almost one hundred years ago, just at the end of the First World War. My father fought in Germany
, and when he came back he was a little reckless. He would get a job for a while and then get into trouble and lose it.

  “My mother told me this story. I was her firstborn. A little bit like Sera, I took responsibility for everyone and everything.

  “Divorce wasn’t common in those days, of course, but my mother wasn’t about to have a family with a man who couldn’t keep a job and gambled away anything he did make. She threatened to go back home. To leave him.

  “My father loved her. More than anything. And more than gambling. He had nothing. So he took one last gamble. He bet ten years of labor working in a factory against a small farm in the Allegheny foothills, sight unseen. He knew if he lost this bet, he lost my mother, too. But his horse won.

  “So they took the train to Bear Meadows, not knowing what they were getting into. On the way there my mother told my father this was his last chance. That if he gambled again she was gone, back to Philadelphia. And he never did. Once I was born, he started raising racehorses, although he never again bet on a single race.

  “This is why it’s so important to keep this farm in the family. The Callahan family. This is our last chance. If Chance stays in Nashville and Sera goes to New York, they won’t have anyplace to come home to.”

  Alex thought of his dream. This is your last chance, son.

  Was the dream a warning about the evicted couple back east? He had found a nursing home the husband and wife could both be in and had put the couple on a waiting list. But maybe the dream was about finding out whether or not he had a home.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “SO, NOW WHAT?” Alex picked up a stick and tossed it ahead in the lane. Lucky raced after it.

  “I have nothing to sell and therefore no income.” Sera reached down and ruffled the fur of the animated dog walking between them. “You and Rocky have come to terms, eh?”

  Alex gave her a sideways glance that generated goose bumps. “Big, mean dog, eh?”

  She laughed. “I couldn’t help giving you a hard time that night. You were so arrogant.”

  “Me? Arrogant?” He slapped his hand to his chest in disbelief.

  She reflected on all that had happened since the night she gave Alex a ride. “It feels strange not to have anything to do.”

  “I never realized how much weather affects a farmer’s livelihood.”

  “Everything. The corn, tomatoes, peppers. Everything was beaten to a pulp last week.” When they reached the top of the hill and the apple orchard, Sera was not surprised. The ground was littered with apples. “Apples, too. It just wasn’t meant to be, Alex.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “Sell to your cousin. What choice do I have?” When Alex didn’t answer, she tore her gaze from the shredded leaves of the apple trees to Alex’s thoughtful face. “Well?”

  He finally looked at her. “You could marry him.”

  A jolt went through her at his suggestion. “What good would that do? Chance still owns half.”

  “I don’t think it would take much to persuade Chance to stay in Nashville. Aunt Hope would get the Century Farm designation like she wanted.” He avoided her gaze, instead looking across the creek at Cy’s American flag whipping in the breeze. “After all, he did ask you, didn’t he?”

  Shock tore through her system. “How do you know about that? Did he tell you?”

  Alex shook his head. “I was spying. During the storm. I saw him get down on one knee and I kind of figured that’s what was going on.”

  Laughing, Sera relaxed. “There’s a proposal for the record books. In the middle of a hailstorm.” Kicking apples aside, she continued strolling through the orchard.

  “I gather you didn’t give him an answer.” Alex followed a step behind.

  “No, I didn’t. Really, Alex, how could I accept? We don’t love each other. What kind of marriage would it be?”

  Alex shrugged. “I suppose you know the story of Last Chance Farm?”

  The reminder caused her heart to twist. “I do. But it can’t be helped. Even if I were willing to marry him for the sake of keeping the farm in the family, how could that be fair to Cy? Besides, I think he likes Dr. Hannah.”

  “He likes you, too.”

  They stopped at the crest of the hill. Down below, the log cabin sat quietly next to the other orchard, the one with the apples that were of no use. “I’m not sure Cy is capable of love, except for his business. Every move he makes always comes back to how it impacts the farm.”

  “What about those apples?” Alex pointed to the orchard Sera’s mother had planted ten years earlier. “They have to be good for something.”

  Sera stopped thinking about marrying Cy and followed his line of sight. “They were protected from the wind. They’re still on the trees. Figures. But I told you. They’re not good eating apples.” Sera marveled at the crop below. Too bad. So why did her mother plant them if they weren’t good for anything?

  * * *

  ALEX SAT AT the rolltop desk. Cy and Sera occupied the two wing chairs. Despondent at the recent turn of events, Hope was nowhere to be seen. The piles of paper on the desk had been replaced with a neat stack of folders. Busy making contacts in Nashville, Chance had agreed to the sale. He was talking about taking Bella south.

  “I compared the sale of other properties in the area, and this is the figure I came up with.” Alex wrote the number on a piece of paper and placed it in the middle of the desk so both parties could see the sum.

  Cy coughed and cleared his throat. “Are you kidding?”

  “Comparable properties.” Alex leaned back in the chair and waited for his cousin to digest the number which, as far as he was concerned, was fair to both parties.

  His heart ached when he saw the sadness in Sera’s eyes. The number could have been in the millions and the look would’ve been the same. “If you need a moment...”

  Alex looked up at the sound of a knock. Shawn stood in the doorway.

  Sera paused and turned around. “Shawn, do you need something? We’re kind of busy right now.”

  “I’m here to stop you from doing something you’ll regret, Sera.” Green cap in hand, the slight man stepped farther into the room.

  Alex’s chest seized when he saw who stood behind Shawn.

  “Hello, son.” Max Kimmel followed Shawn into the den.

  “Dad, what’s going on?”

  Taking Shawn by the elbow, the two men approached the desk. “It seems the document search on the property wasn’t complete.”

  Alex bristled. Leave it to his father to question his abilities. But Alex knew the law. “The title search was done properly. I did it myself. I went through the deeds here at the farm and at the courthouse.”

  “Oh, I’m not talking about deeds, son. Mind if we sit down?”

  “Have a seat on the couch.” Hope entered the room. Alex looked from Hope to his father to Shawn and wondered what the three were up to. There was no doubt Hope and Shawn didn’t want the farm sold. “Sera has Chance’s power of attorney. Hope signed over her share to the kids when Sera’s parents died. There’s nothing more to be done, Dad.”

  “Oh, but there is. Hope, care to explain?”

  Hope sat between the two men on the couch and, her eyes on Sera, squared her shoulders. “Your grandfather, my brother and the original Chance, knew that the Callahan men had a propensity for gambling, Sera. He didn’t want to take any chances on the farm being lost to the family. When the farm was left to the two of us, we promised our mother the farm would never leave the family.”

  “Aunt Hope, please, we’ve been over this. That was a hundred years ago. Times change.” Sera ran her hands through her hair.

  “When Shawn showed up here looking for work after his tour in Vietnam, he and your grandfather became friends.” Hope placed a hand on
Shawn’s shoulder. “But they were more than friends, Sera. Your grandfather Chance was Shawn’s uncle.”

  Sera couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Two red spots colored Aunt Hope’s pale cheeks, and one corner of her mouth drooped. For a minute Sera feared the woman was having a stroke. As she watched, her great-aunt and the man who had lived on the farm ever since she could remember shared a glance. And that’s when she saw it. “You have the same eyes.”

  Hope nodded and sighed. Her shoulders relaxed, as if a weight had been lifted from them. “Shawn is my son, Sera. His father and I were planning to be married when Pearl Harbor was bombed. We didn’t think he would be gone long, so we postponed the wedding. Only Seamus Campbell didn’t come back. If he had, we would’ve married and Shawn—” She twisted the tiny emerald ring on her finger. Shawn reached for her hand.

  Sera met Shawn’s gaze. “You’re my—”

  “First cousin once removed.” His eyes twinkled and for the first time Sera recognized her father’s twinkle.

  “When I found out I was pregnant, I went to Georgia and stayed with friends of the family, the Murphys. Back in those days, having a baby out of wedlock was just not done. I didn’t want to bring shame on the family. I thought Seamus would be back before I showed. Then we found out he had been killed in action. I had no choice. I was twenty. The Murphys adopted Shawn and raised him as their own.”

  “How did he end up here?”

  Shawn explained. “My parents told me the truth when I was a child. After I came back from ’nam, I hitchhiked north. I wanted to see my home. And I never left.”

  She took a breath yet her lungs felt empty, as if a weight sat on her chest. She tried again but still couldn’t get air.

  Asleep upstairs, Bella chose that moment to let out a lusty cry. Still taking care of her husband, Jean hadn’t yet returned to babysitting. As Sera rose to respond to the crying child, she was brought full circle to the present. The reason they were all in the room. “Be right back.”