An Allegheny Homecoming

by T. R. McClure

  As if her mouth wasn’t connected to her brain, she said instead, “Maybe a bigger bank in Kansas City would grant you a loan.”

  “Been there, done that. No deal.” He toyed with the fork again. “I think I’m a pretty good manager—better than that—or I was, until a few months ago. Then things started happening and keep on happening, and now this bank loan, and I can’t help wondering if my dad was right to leave Wilson Cattle in my hands, even on a trial basis...”

  “All is not lost,” she said and tilted her head to look into his troubled eyes. Grey cracked a faint smile, as if he couldn’t help himself. She’d always been able to talk him out of a bad mood after one of their many disagreements in the past. They’d been able to make each other laugh even at the worst times—until tragedy struck and they couldn’t laugh, or love, any more.

  “Now see what you’ve done.” He waggled his eyebrows. “We always did make a good pair, Shadow.”

  “We did not.” He gazed back at her, and her pulse skipped a beat. “Grey. If we were going to hitch ourselves together like a couple of oxen, we’d have done so long ago. You know why we didn’t.”

  Shifting her gaze, she stared at a point just over his shoulder. Maybe she shouldn’t have come back to Barren, or stayed, or even walked across the street today. Ten years hadn’t been long enough to quell her memories, including the good ones, and every time she saw him she also thought of what might have been. That is, before the other, worse memories flooded her mind.

  As if he’d thought the same thing, Grey stopped smiling. His eyes were the color of dark jade now. “We live in the same town, Shadow. We see each other now and then...when you aren’t trying to keep away from me like you did at my nephew’s birthday party a few weeks ago. Or when you’re not answering your phone. You knew I was going to call.” He glanced toward the street. “Why give people something more to talk about?”

  “I’m not the one who caused that—after what you did—”

  “What your brother did.”

  She lowered her voice. “Because of you, my brother will never have a ranch or anything else to lose.” She blinked back a sudden rush of tears. She hadn’t cried since she was seventeen—ten years ago. She wouldn’t cry now, but her voice trembled. “Jared doesn’t have a life. There’s nothing you could say, nothing you could do, to fix that. To bring him back,” she added.

  People were openly staring now. In one way, she and Grey were alike, the stars of Barren’s own reality show. Their waitress came to take their orders, but Grey waved her off. “Give us a minute. Thanks.” His voice stayed quiet, too, but his eyes were intense. He waited until they were alone again. “I didn’t...kill him, Shadow. You either believe me or you don’t, which you obviously still don’t.”

  “Neither does anyone else in this town.”

  Grey said, “If I had any way to prove myself to them, to you, I would.” He paused, watching her with those sharp blue-green eyes. “Come on,” he said. “You and I were a couple once. We even picked out baby names. I still remember your favorite.”

  Shadow felt herself turn pale.

  “Why did you come in here today, anyway?” Grey asked. “I doubt it was to have lunch with me.”

  “I—” She couldn’t find the words. Shadow caught the pointed gaze of a woman in the booth across the aisle who’d been trying to control her two young children, then had given up to focus on Shadow and Grey. “I have something to tell you. It’s—important.” Life-changing, really, she wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t come.

  “Fine. Let’s take this outside.”

  Yet, how would she phrase what she had to tell him after all these years? She hadn’t thought this through carefully enough, and Grey was already hurting, worried about the fate of his ranch. In a show of compassion she wouldn’t have considered last night, Shadow decided she couldn’t blindside him after he’d already suffered such a blow today.

  “I really can’t stay. I have appointments this afternoon, and if I don’t start now I’ll be late. I’ll be in my office all day tomorrow.” By then, she’d know exactly what to say. “Come see me anytime.”

  “Shadow—”

  She was already sliding toward the end of the booth when Grey said, “You’re...okay, aren’t you? Not sick or anything?”

  “No, not sick,” she said, standing to block the woman’s view from the opposite booth.

  “I’ll be there. Tomorrow.” Grey held up a hand. “Before you run off, I heard from Logan the other day. Did you get a call from Blossom?”

  At the mention of their mutual friends, who’d recently become engaged, she turned back. “No, why? Is something wrong?”

  Grey’s gaze held hers. “She’s going to ask you to be her maid of honor.”

  Shadow blinked. The change of topic had taken her by surprise and was almost welcome. “Really. I’ve never been in a wedding before.”

  He eyed her through those dark lashes, taking his time before he said, “You’d look real nice in a long white gown.”

  She swallowed. This hadn’t gone as she’d hoped, and neither would trying to talk about something else. “White is for the bride. More likely, I’d have to wear a dress I wouldn’t wear to my own funeral.”

  The last word hung in the air like a fresh reminder of everything that stood between them—a fresh reminder of Jared.

  “Blossom has better taste than that,” Grey said, and Shadow winced. She’d only heard secondhand about bridesmaids’ dresses.

  “I shouldn’t have said that. Blossom has every right to be happy without my mood spoiling things. She should pick somebody else.”

  “I’ll leave you two to settle that,” Grey said. “Fair warning, though—Logan’s already asked me to be his best man.” He held her gaze for another long moment, then added, “Which I am.”

  * * *

  MOST PEOPLE SAID he had too much pride, and it was never easy for Grey to lose at anything. Especially with Shadow. Seeing her hadn’t helped. That spill of jet-black hair, her dark brown eyes and chiseled cheekbones... He’d felt like the love-struck boy he’d been before everything fell apart. After her brother died, he’d come close to begging her to believe in him. But then, Grey had hesitated when he said, I didn’t...kill him. He had his doubts about Jared’s death. About himself.

  And today his luck wasn’t running very high. If he’d tried for more of their conversation in town, they might well have ended up in a nasty argument. Still wondering what she might say tomorrow, he drove home and down to the barn to find his new cowhand waiting for him, shifting his weight from one boot to the other in obvious impatience. Which came as no surprise.

  “Glad I caught you. I was just headin’ into town myself.” Somewhere in his mid-twenties, Cody Jones had a shock of wheat-colored hair, close cut on the sides but longer on top. He still looked like a kid to Grey, who’d turned thirty this year, but Cody stood inches taller than Grey did, even at six feet. He had to look up into Cody’s merry dark eyes, which never set well with Grey, who was now the sole person of authority at Wilson Cattle. “Thought I’d get my pay first.”

  “Sorry, you’ll have to wait.” After his morning appointment at the bank, he was sure about that. “We sold off those cattle last week, but the check hasn’t cleared.” He wouldn’t mention the loan.

  “Man, I thought trying to make a living on the circuit was tough. Five seasons as a bronc rider before I quit to hire on here, but winnin’ prize money was way easier than this.”

  “And how much did you win?”

  Cody flashed a grin. “Not enough.”

  “You know any riders who are earning good money?”

  “Just the top guys, and they really rake it in. Private planes and all.”

  “There you go. Most don’t ever reach that level. Being a top rodeo cowboy’s not that easy, either—it’
s like winning the lottery.”

  Grey had tried rodeo, too, for a couple of years after college, so he could empathize with Cody. Still, Grey viewed him almost as the younger brother he’d never had. He’d given him advice before, taught him quite a bit already and wanted to believe that Cody would, sooner or later, be of real value to Wilson Cattle. Which reminded him to ask, “You feed the horses this morning?”

  Cody had “forgotten” twice last week. He had a tendency to focus on himself instead of his work. Grey toyed with the idea of docking his pay for the double oversight, then discarded it. He lived up to his obligations.

  Too bad he couldn’t take that to the bank.

  Before seeing Shadow, he’d made a quick stop at the local tack store to order a new saddle and buy some lesser supplies, but he’d come out empty-handed. His credit had been declined. Grey had been having a hard time paying the bills lately, which only compounded his growing sense of failure. A best man. Was he, really? If only he could find some way to prove to her, to everyone else—maybe most of all, to himself—that he was innocent in the death of Jared Moran. But what if he discovered just the opposite?

  Cody’s grin had stuck to his face. “Guess I can wait to go into town. Maybe on Saturday night I’ll find a nice little buckle bunny to dance with. To be honest, that’s what I miss most about the rodeo circuit.”

  “Good luck finding one in Barren.” Grey noticed that halfway down the barn aisle, Cody had left a wheelbarrow full of steaming manure. The pungent aroma threatened to spread through the entire barn. Grey pointed. “Right now you’d better stop daydreaming and clean up that mess.”

  Cody’s expression fell. “Thought you wanted me to mend fence today near the boundary with Logan’s property. By the way, he’s got a hole there, too.”

  Grey frowned. Two sections of fence breached at the same time? He wondered if that could be a coincidence.

  “Can’t be in both places at once,” Cody added.

  “First things first. The manure won’t take long. Then get out there before those cows wander off the ranch.”

  Cody grumbled to himself but Grey had other things on his mind. He left Cody to the wheelbarrow and went on up to the house.

  He wouldn’t tell his dad about the loan just yet. A few years ago, after a long time spent as a single father, Everett Wilson had remarried, turned the operation over to Grey and moved to Dallas with his bride, as he still called Grey’s stepmom, Liza. Grey was fully responsible here. He had to protect their mutual heritage or they’d end up with nothing. Yet those new holes in the fence nagged at him.

  Maybe the loan he’d been denied, his cash flow issue and Shadow’s blame weren’t his only problems. He hoped tomorrow would be better.

  * * *

  AS THE SUN began to set, Shadow pulled into her driveway. The house she’d recently purchased in Barren was her pride and joy. For the first time in her life, she had something all her own. At least, in thirty years it would be, considering her new mortgage. The house was another, necessary part of her plans for the future. But Shadow was still angry with herself for chickening out on telling Grey what she’d decided to tell him. And just when she needed to be alone, to rehearse what to say tomorrow, her mother was waiting for her on her front steps.

  Shadow opened the garage door with her remote control, rolled inside then shut the door behind her. She went in through the kitchen and down the short hall to the entryway.

  “Mama. What are you doing out there?”

  Her mother blinked. “I came to see you. Didn’t know I needed an excuse.”

  “I didn’t say you did.” What was wrong now? Through the screen door Shadow could see that her mother, in her late forties, looked somewhat worn today. Her dark hair hung in dull hanks around her face. What was wrong now?

  Considering what had happened right after Jared died, she shouldn’t feel bad for her remaining parent. Yet she still loved her mother, who’d lost her husband—Shadow’s father—a year ago, who still looked lost herself, and showed up now and then to see Shadow as if she’d forgotten their rift. Shadow always had a hard time saying no to anything her mother needed and rarely did.

  “Come inside,” Shadow insisted.

  “I’m fine right here,” her mother said. “Actually, I came to tell you my water heater—yes, the one you bought me—leaked all over the floor last night.” She added, “I don’t know if it can be fixed, and I don’t get my government check for another ten days.”

  Shadow forced herself to gentle her tone. They’d had this discussion before, but to Shadow’s sorrow, nothing had changed. “Mama. How many times have I told you to sell that place?”

  “It’s my home.”

  Shadow suppressed a twinge of regret. Grey felt that way about his enormous ranch, which Shadow disliked as much as her family’s small farm, the modest house with its now-sagging roof, the cramped rooms where her parents had fought late into the night over every dime.

  She shook her head. “Five acres of dirt, a bunch of chickens and a house that’s been falling down around your ears since I was in diapers.” And someone in that house, she thought, had always been in diapers.

  “I own my house, free and clear. How many people can say that?”

  True enough. Shadow had her brand-new mortgage to pay, a strong motivation to succeed with Mother Comfort. She murmured, “At least Daddy left you something.” Other than six children. Well, five now. For a time it had seemed her mother was pregnant every year. As the second oldest girl after her sister Jenna, Shadow had often helped with the youngest ones, giving bottles to Tanya and Cherry, wiping her little brother Derek’s grimy hands and runny noses while her dad did...almost nothing to help.

  “He was a good man,” her mother said. “I loved your father.”

  Another casualty, Shadow thought, of a man who couldn’t be counted on.

  She took a deep breath. She didn’t want to hurt her mother, but she needed to get through to her somehow. “Obviously, you can’t keep that house up much longer, Mama. It’s become harder and harder since Daddy died. The house is old. It needs too much work. How about I come out soon? We can get it ready to sell. That property’s not worth much, but enough to give you a fresh start. Away from all those memories.” She didn’t have to mention Jared.

  “I’m staying.” Her mother looked away. “We always did the best we could.”

  “I guess.” But Shadow had gone to school with holes in her sneakers—they all had. The same shoes that pinched because they were two sizes too small. Shadow had felt like one of those women centuries ago with their feet bound till they couldn’t walk. Now she had a serious obsession with shoes. They were her one indulgence. Everything else went into her plans for the future. Shadow looked down at her newest pair of flats. “You don’t have to live that way now,” she said. “Did you never consider what Daddy was doing to us then?” And that didn’t come close to Shadow’s last memory of him.

  “He couldn’t get good work.”

  “No, or if he did, it was because Everett Wilson hired him back again.” She added, “I know you were in a difficult position, Mama.” Shadow had been in one, herself. She’d had to make hard decisions, which reminded her now of Grey and their meeting tomorrow. “But when I actually needed Daddy—”

  “He shouldn’t have done that, but honey, we’d just lost Jared! That was Grey Wilson’s doing. You can’t blame your father for feeling like he did. That boy killed our son and I’ll never forgive him.”

  Shadow couldn’t disagree. But this wasn’t about Grey. It was Shadow her father had hurt then. “Yes, and after that, Daddy wasn’t there for me.” She almost hadn’t come home for his funeral, yet she’d done so for her mother’s sake. And stayed.

  Her mother rose from the steps. “People make mistakes. Grey Wilson sure did, and you just ran off—”

 
“Because,” Shadow said, fighting the urge to push her mother away when she also wanted to take her in her arms and comfort them both, “I had to.” Because, like Daddy, you wouldn’t help me, either.

  As if she’d actually heard the unspoken words, her mother drew herself up. She stood barely over five feet, even when she squared her shoulders and stiffened her spine. Shadow had inherited her father’s height, but she had to give her mother credit for the courage that had failed Shadow earlier. Or was that her mother’s pride? Like Grey’s. “Forget I was here,” she said.

  “Mama—”

  She started down the steps. “I’ve made mistakes in my life, too. But at least,” she threw back over her shoulder, “I never abandoned my own baby.”

  Copyright © 2017 by Leigh Riker

  ISBN-13: 9781488012228

  An Allegheny Homecoming

  Copyright © 2017 by Tanya R. Schleiden

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