by Cora Seton
Noah fell silent as they finally pulled into town. For the first time, he thought Jed had hit on a kernel of truth. Despite what Jed might think, people still respected the Turners, and Noah had no doubt they could lean on their community for help in their time of need. What had kept him from even considering that option?
Honor? Integrity?
Pride?
Whatever. It was an idea to keep for the future—if things got worse.
Jed’s attitude didn’t improve during the appointment, but at least for the moment his ire was directed toward the nurses and doctor rather than Noah.
“I want a second opinion,” he snapped when the doctor told him they needed to start looking into surgery for his hip.
“You’re entitled to seek one out, naturally,” the doctor said, not rising to Jed’s bait. “But your hip joint is damaged. There’s not a pill for that. If we don’t replace it, it’s only going to get worse with time.”
“We don’t need a second opinion,” Noah cut in quickly. “I think my uncle’s just a little shocked—”
“Don’t talk about me like I’m some kind of child, boy. And what do you mean ‘we’? Since when are you my spokesman? Figures you’d be all for them putting machine parts in me—trying to turn me into one of those robots you’re so in love with, huh?”
The doctor raised his eyebrows.
“Don’t ask,” Noah mumbled.
The doctor bit back a smile. “I can’t make you go in for surgery, Jed, but I do strongly recommend it. You don’t have to schedule it right now, either—we can wait for the shock to wear off. It’s quite normal to experience anxiety about a procedure like this. If it helps, I can refer you to a counselor who can help you through the process. In fact, seeing as you’re a rancher at heart, I wonder if equine therapy might work well for you. There’s a woman in town—”
Jed shook his head emphatically. “I don’t need no counselor, and I don’t need no equine whatever-it-is.”
“It’s okay to need help, Jed,” Noah told him. “And it’s okay to be afraid.”
“Afraid?” Jed fumed. “To hell with that! What I am is brave enough to tell you I know what’s best for my own body, not like the rest of you cowards too scared to ever question authority.”
Noah took Jed’s arm to stop it from flailing. “Can we schedule another appointment to talk again?” he asked the doctor.
“Sure thing. Any time you’re ready.”
The moment they stepped out into the waiting area, Noah wished they’d stayed in the examining room. “You again!” Jed roared, catching sight of Virginia. “Did you follow me here so you could gloat over my afflictions?” He started toward her so quickly Noah wondered if the doctor had somehow fixed Jed’s hip when he wasn’t looking. “You’ll be sorry to hear I’m fit as a fiddle.”
“A fiddle that hasn’t been tuned in years.” Virginia swung her umbrella to keep him at bay. “I haven’t heard a racket like that since baby Steel tried to build a drum set out of the cookware.”
Despite himself, Noah chuckled. That vision just didn’t mesh with the secretive, intimidating Steel he knew.
“And you!” Jed wheeled on Olivia. “Don’t you have a clock to steal? Or is it too much to hope you came here to apologize?”
Olivia looked at him, slack-jawed. “I, uh, we’re really just here for an appoint—”
“You leave her out of this!” Virginia advanced on Jed and launched another attack with her umbrella.
Jed caught it in a strong, calloused hand. “You think you can tell me what to do? Ha!” He yanked the umbrella from Virginia’s grasp, gripped it in both hands—
And snapped it in half.
“You…you…” Virginia searched for words, and when they didn’t come, she bashed Jed with her pocketbook, staggered backward, caught her balance, lunged forward and bashed him again. Olivia thought she saw tears in her aunt’s eyes, though she couldn’t say if they were from hurt or anger. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. Virginia loved that old umbrella.
This wasn’t the place for a brawl, though. Virginia needed surgery on her ankle, and she couldn’t get it if she was kicked out of the doctor’s office the same way she’d been from the assisted living facility.
As the fight grew louder, she saw a doctor emerge from the back room to see what the ruckus was. He said something to the receptionist, who picked up the phone and dialed.
That couldn’t be good.
“Virginia, please—” she started, but Virginia swung her purse at her before she could continue. Olivia stepped back and looked to Noah. “Help,” she mouthed.
Noah jumped into the middle of the fray and fended off swipes from both Jed and Virginia. “Jed just received some bad news,” he told Virginia, as if that would settle her down.
“Did they explain to him there’s no cure for his personality?”
“What are you here for? An infusion of common sense?” Jed retaliated.
Noah grabbed Jed by the arm and forcibly removed him from Virginia’s vicinity. “We’ll be happy to reimburse you for the umbrella or buy you a new one,” he called back over his shoulder.
Virginia humphed. “Trust a Turner to think everything’s so easily replaceable. That parasol belonged to my grandmother. You want to make it up to me, you can start by returning something else irreplaceable: my clock.”
Jed dropped the broken halves of the umbrella to the floor. “Why, I ought to—”
“Respect the peace and your fellow citizens? Good,” Cab Johnson, the local sheriff, said. “That’s exactly what I hoped you’d say.”
Noah was the first to break the awkward silence that followed his interruption. The sheriff must have been nearby to get here so fast. “Sorry, Cab. This is all a misunderstanding—”
Jed cut him off. “What did I tell you? All you’re good for is sucking up to authority.”
Noah turned on him. “There’s a difference between sucking up and being a responsible—”
“All right, that’s enough out of everyone.” Cab turned his back on Olivia and Virginia, and focused on Noah and Jed. “You know, I might have expected this from the Coopers, but I thought you lot were supposed to be above all this.”
Ouch. Olivia’s first instinct was to give the sheriff a piece of her mind, but that would just prove his point. With great difficulty she bit her tongue and held back. She really needed to rehabilitate her family’s image, which meant she needed to get the school upgrade done. Better talk to the Hall women soon about the gala.
She focused on Cab again.
“You don’t have to like each other,” he was saying. “Don’t even have to pretend to get along. Just stay out of each other’s way, and I think we’ll be fine.”
“Good,” Jed muttered. “Not even Shakespeare could act like he liked that old biddy.”
Virginia rolled her eyes. “Shakespeare wrote the plays; he didn’t act in them, you bitter old coot.”
“Are you or are you not going to keep the peace?” Cab demanded, looking at first one and then the other of them. “Well?”
“We were just leaving.” Noah took Jed’s arm.
“As soon as he’s gone, I’ll be fine.” Virginia nodded toward Jed.
“Then my work here is done.” Cab left with a tip of his hat to no one in particular. Olivia thought Noah would follow, but he lingered.
“I bet Virginia isn’t afraid of surgery,” he said dryly to Jed.
Jed flushed with anger. “What the hell is that supposed to mean, you little ingrate? Ain’t got no problem with surgery.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Would you like to schedule an appointment now?” a doctor said, approaching from one of the nearby offices. He must have listened to the whole fight, Olivia realized.
Jed froze, then nodded stiffly.
“You’ll be called in a just a few minutes,” the doctor told Olivia and Virginia. He turned back to Noah. “This shouldn’t take long. I’ve got some reading material to send home with you. Yo
u should read through it together, as soon as possible,” he added to Noah.
Virginia went to gather up the broken pieces of her umbrella, sat down hard in one of the chairs lined up against one wall and smoothed her skirt, looking worn out despite the show she’d just put on. Olivia took the pieces from her hands. “After this we’ll find someone who can fix your umbrella.”
“Humph.” Virginia turned away, and Olivia’s stomach sank. Her aunt wasn’t just tired; she was sad. That umbrella had really meant a lot to her.
Noah and Jed reappeared a few moments later. Jed kept walking, never once glancing their way.
But Noah did. He winked at Olivia, and a private smile curved his lips.
She had no doubt what he was thinking about, and her heart skipped a beat. He still meant to go through with their date, if they ever had a chance.
Good.
Chapter Four
“I can’t find a job,” Brandon said when he met up with Noah at Linda’s Diner the following day. “It’s impossible.”
“Nothing’s impossible,” Noah assured him. “You have to work at it, but you’ll get there if it’s what you really want.”
“Easy for you to say. The whole system’s rigged to help people like you succeed, whereas it’s all stacked against me.”
That caught Noah off guard. “People like me?”
“Born rich, from a respected family. Probably never had the chance to slip up even if you wanted to.”
Noah frowned, but not because Brandon thought he had it easy. It was to be expected for a parolee to lash out, blaming an unfair system rather than taking responsibility for his actions. What bothered Noah was that the accusation brought him back to the day before, when Jed had busted him for sucking up to Cab. He didn’t care what Jed said; Jed criticized everything he did anyway. What bothered him was that he’d said it in front of Olivia. Was that how she saw him? As a spineless goody-goody looking for a pat on the head?
He sure hoped not.
“I’m not rich,” he told Brandon evenly. “And even if I was, that wouldn’t mean I didn’t have my own challenges.”
Brandon shrugged. “Maybe. And maybe if I could go back I’d do things better. But seems to me you get one chance, and if you screw it up there’s no hope of fixing it.”
“You’re right.” Noah was satisfied when Brandon straightened in surprise. “It is harder to rebuild once you’ve broken the law. It’s harder to do most things, I’d imagine, including getting a job. The lesson here is that actions have consequences. It’s probably difficult to see right now, but in a way that’s a good thing.”
Brandon let out a bitter laugh. “Oh yeah? How do you figure?”
“Dealing with the pain of those consequences now will help you make better decisions in the future. Not only better for society, but better for yourself. It’s understandable that in certain situations you might be tempted to cut corners. This gives you a reason not to. In fact, in sticking to stricter rules than most people have to deal with, and overcoming more difficult obstacles, you’re going to build a lot of discipline, perseverance and integrity. Those values will serve you well, not just through this process but the rest of your life. You might feel impossibly behind right now, but if you take this chance to develop a strong character, you’ll be ahead of the average person in the long run.”
Brandon made a noncommittal noise. Noah obviously wasn’t getting through to him. And he really needed to get through to him. His parolee was disenfranchised, running out of hope and more concerned with the present moment than his future.
In other words, he was dangerously close to reoffending. Noah couldn’t bear to see Brandon throw it all away now, and he’d do whatever he could to keep that from happening.
“Okay,” he went on, “maybe you’re not in the mood to think about the future right now. I get it. So let’s talk about your current—”
“You boys doing all right?”
Noah nearly groaned when Christie appeared, her gaze fixed on Brandon. Why on earth had he brought Brandon back here? Caught up in his longing for Olivia, the escalating feud between Jed and Virginia, and Jed’s constant, irritating presence around the Flying W, he’d forgotten all about the flirtatious waitress.
“We’re good,” he said firmly.
“Actually—” Brandon caught Christie’s hand when she started to turn away. “I could use a glass of water.”
Funny how he hadn’t mentioned being thirsty when their original waiter took their orders, Noah thought.
Brandon held on to Christie’s hand far too long until Noah cleared his throat. By the time he let go, Christie’s color was high.
“I’ll be right back,” she said breathlessly.
“What I was saying,” Noah continued when she was gone, “is that you don’t have to wait for your situation to get better. There are things you can do right now that can improve your quality of life.”
“Like what?” Brandon’s eyes traced Christie’s path through the restaurant.
“Building your community would be a great first step. Like we talked about before, the more people you know and who trust you, the more opportunities will naturally come your way. But it goes way beyond that. Once you get used to feeling ostracized by society, it’s easy to forget what it feels like to have a strong support system. You might not even realize how much you miss—”
“Here you go, honey.” Christie was back. She leaned across Brandon to place his water on the table, the position leading to a lot more body contact than seemed necessary. She caught Noah glowering at her and winked at him. “Okay then, I’ll get out of your hair, let you get back to your serious business.”
“Wait,” Brandon said before Christie even began to move away. He touched the brim of the glass. “I was actually hoping to get water with ice in it.”
“My bad.” She leaned in again to retrieve the glass. “Be back before you know it.”
Noah ran a hand through his hair and watched Brandon in silence. The parolee didn’t seem to notice at first, his gaze focused on the waitress as she walked away, but when he glanced back, he caught Noah looking and shifted uncomfortably. “So, uh, you were saying about a support system?”
Noah said nothing. This time when Christie came back, she took one look at Noah’s face, set the ice water on the table without fanfare and scurried back to the kitchen.
“Are you two dating?” Noah asked when the kitchen door swung shut behind her.
Brandon eyed him. “What’s it to you?”
“I’m your parole officer. It’s my job.”
“To meddle in my love life? I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“It’s my business if I think you’re building a destructive relationship.”
Brandon set his hands on the table and leaned toward Noah. “Weren’t you just telling me I should build my community? You don’t know what it’s like to be in prison. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a woman.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
“You keep telling me I need to connect with people.” Brandon cut him off. “But the first time I try to, you give me hell. What makes you think she’s going to be a bad influence on me, anyway? She seems nice.”
Noah cleared his throat. “She does, actually. Seems like a good woman.”
Brandon’s eyes widened as he finally understood. “Wait—you’re saying I’ll be a bad influence on her? Fuck you, man—you’re supposed to be on my side.” He stood up, bumping the table in his haste to get away. His water sloshed in its glass.
“Hold on, there.” Noah got up, too, but he had to collect his jacket and wallet. By the time he managed it, Brandon was already at the door. “You’re twisting my words. Hey!” He rushed to catch Brandon and bumped into two people coming in.
“Noah! Perfect.” Liam waved something in his hand at Noah. “Check out—”
Noah forced his way around him and Jed, but by the time he poked his head out the door he couldn’t see which way
Brandon had gone. Besides, he couldn’t just leave without paying.
He crossed paths with Christie on his way back in. “Brandon had to go,” he told her curtly and led his brother and uncle back to his table. Christie took their orders, and Liam laid a stack of papers before him. Noah struggled to get his irritation under control.
“Look at these,” Liam said. “First batch of nostalgia letters for the school. Some of them are gold.”
“Others are from people who clearly never graduated,” Jed muttered.
Liam waved him off. “Seriously, give them a read.”
Noah picked up one at random and skimmed it. It could use a little cleanup, for sure. There was a lot of rambling in the beginning about the author’s childhood that had nothing to do with the school, but there was heart to it, too, a simple, honest account that made Noah wish he’d been around for a time when he hadn’t even been alive. When it got to the point and talked about good times at Chance Creek High, it was touching.
“These… these could actually work.” He started on a second letter.
“What, you didn’t think I’d pull it off?” Liam demanded, but beneath his sour expression, Noah could tell he was proud.
“You’re right. I should never have doubted you.” Noah didn’t want to alienate his brother, but he was still torn about delaying the renovation and tech upgrade project at the high school. “Let’s keep it positive, though. Some of these letters are a little… rough.”
“As well they should be,” Jed said. “I say we focus on those, let everyone know how the Coopers are trying to ruin our town.”
“A majority of the teachers had to vote for the renovation to go through,” Noah reminded him. “If we publish letters that call them stupid—or malicious—for supporting the renovation, all we’ll do is make them close ranks against us and double down.” He picked up and waved the first letter he’d read. Knowing Jed never was much for tact, he appealed directly to Liam. “You were right, man, letters like this are gold. This guy talks about how incredible his teachers were, then goes on to argue that all this technology will keep the next generation of students from building those close personal relationships with them. The Board will be a lot more inclined to listen to letters that start out by praising the school.” He clapped Liam on the shoulder. “Look for more like this one. Great work, man.”
