Since it'll probably take time to cash in on my investment accounts, it's all I have left until I get back from California. I'm sure I have access to my checking account, but with no ID I'm stuck. I don't have time for this shit. I would have never imagined leaving the state would end up causing so much havoc on my life. How the hell do you reverse false death?
I'm just going to have to call Dad once I get to Pops' house. There are no other options. I have to have money. I have no cell, because I broke the one I had on the pavement, no wallet, and not much more than the clothes on my back unless I go in my room and wake everyone.
Walking to the door, I grab the first set of keys hanging on the hook beside it. I don't even look to see which vehicle it's for as I walk out the door in the direction of the garage.
When I get to the garage doors, I look down and notice the key ring. It’s Kinzleigh's set to my truck. I know this by the keychain she had made especially for it. It's a silver heart that looks similar to the charm on the anklet she gave me Homecoming night. One side is marked with diamond like crystals and the other side has our initials engraved in the middle with the phrase, two hearts beating wildly, flowing in a circle around them. She put her own spin on my idea. She had it made after I carved almost the same thing in that old Oak tree out at Pops' ranch, our Oak tree.
My heart starts beating harder and it becomes painful, as if someone is trying to rip it apart with the recognition of the words in my mind. I get a sinking feeling in my stomach. She really isn't okay. I can feel it. "Kinzleigh, why do you have to be so hard headed?" I rub over the etching in the metal, taking a deep breath.
So close, yet so far away...
I notice my truck in the driveway. Someone must have brought it home, because Mom said she left it. It's still so strange to have some of the things I thought I lost forever. I will rebuild my life one thing at a time, starting with the most important.
***
I sit in the driveway of Pops' house, nervous to go inside. My life has become the epitome of complicated. It feels like I don't exist. I'm just wandering around in a world that is going on without me, lost. When life is passing by around me, I'm at a standstill. I've never been one of those people that let complications stand in my way. There is no reason to start now.
I pull the door handle toward me and push open the door of my truck. I step out and immediately feel the breeze blowing across my face. It's nice out today. The sky is clear and the pallet consists of greens, with a fall mix of red, orange, and yellow. I miss the tranquility that I feel each time I'm here.
I look at the garage and see a head of teased curls walking beside the vehicle parked underneath. Immediately I smile. "Can I help you," she yells in question before my truck and I become visible to her. My heart always warms a little in the presence of Mims. She's one of those people known to have a pure heart.
"I don't know, can you?" I laugh at my sarcasm. One of the most common southern English mistakes is using can I instead of may I. It was always a problem for me, one in which she corrected constantly, which is why it's funny hearing it come from her.
She locks me in her sights and stops at the edge of the open garage. She places her hand over her mouth and begins to weep. I rush over to her, throwing my arms around her four foot eleven frame. I always did tower over her from the time I hit puberty. "Shh, don't cry, Mims. I didn't plan to barge in unexpected like this. I know I should've called to warn you, but the only phone I had is shattered in the parking lot of the hospital."
She locks her arms around my waist and squeezes tight. "Breyson, you have no idea how happy everyone is that you're alive." She pulls away and places her aged hands on my cheeks. "Let me look at you," she says as wet tears trail down her wrinkled skin. "Yep, it's you," she says in relief. "Come on, dear. There is someone waiting for you."
She grabs my hand and leads me inside. I close my eyes briefly as I take in the smell of her house. It's strange how each person's home has a distinct smell, unique to its owner. I come into the kitchen and Pops is sitting at the farm table by the windows. He's staring out at the barn, eating his breakfast in a mechanical rhythm as if he's lost in thought.
Mims clears her throat. "John Gavin. There is someone here you want to see." He sets down the piece of fried bacon he is holding and looks over to where we stand.
Immediately he stands, pushing his chair back across the tile floor. He brushes his hands over his Wrangler jeans, removing any grease or food particles that may be on the surface. Walking toward me, he grabs the back of my neck in one hand and lightly slaps my cheek with the other. His eyes look softer than the usual hardness they hold. He's a man that harnesses his emotions inside, only revealing them from time to time. "Son, it's good to have you home. This is the place where you belong."
I'm starting to get overwhelmed by the emotion in the room. "Pops, I need your help."
"Let's take this somewhere else. A man's business is better to be kept in private. Besides, I know someone else you need to see," he says, and winks before turning in the direction of the door, grabbing his cowboy hat off the table. I follow closely behind from the house to the opening of the barn. I now know exactly who we're going to see: Hendrix.
I come into view and immediately he begins to go crazy inside the stall, shoving the gate with his head. He wants to be freed. He wants to be ridden. "Hey boy. Not today, okay, but I promise I'll be back soon. I have someone I need to bring home first."
I pet his head and I can hear rhythmic exhales coming from behind me. It's too deep to be human. I know exactly who it is. I turn to the black mare, standing in the stall behind me. She's the most beautiful horse I've ever seen, fitting perfectly with the most beautiful girl. I walk over to her and begin rubbing up her nose, and between her eyes. She isn't making any great attempt to move. There is sadness in her dark eyes that I don't remember being present last time I saw her.
"You miss her, don't you, girl?" Her head dips slightly as the words escape me. "Don't worry, I'll bring her home. I promise."
"She's been like that for a while. Kinzleigh stopped coming here after the news was released about the plane accident. I don't think she could bear being around this place. I can't say that I blame her. This was kind an escape for the two of you, wasn't it?" I continue petting Divinity, attempting to cheer her up. It doesn't seem to be working. If anyone can understand, it's me.
Kinzleigh leaves a mark on people. She's sweet and caring, but bashful. She's guarded, but when she lets you in, she's the most loving person you'll ever meet. Sometimes, it takes pushing her out of her shell, but when she moves into a comfort zone she's fun to be around. She inches into your heart and embeds herself without even trying. "Yeah, it was. It still is. That old Oak tree will always be ours."
"I talked with your daddy. I think I know why you're here. Saddle her up. There is something I want to show you. I'll ride Hendrix. They need to get out of here anyway." I turn around and he's already leading Hendrix out of the gate. When Pops wants to talk about something, it's usually for good reason. Right now, I need all the help I can get.
"Yes, Sir." I open the gate and lead the black beaut out of her stall in the direction of the tack room. I stop at the tie down post just outside of the barn entry and tie her to it with a lead rope to keep her from running off.
When I walk into the room with the saddles the first one I see is Kinzleigh's. I run the tips of my fingers over it, remembering Christmas Day when I gave it to her. I hope and pray she makes this easy, but I am willing to beg and persuade her. I need her, and if it takes living in California I'm prepared to do so, but this is where we belong.
I move on, grabbing my saddle from the stand and quickly saddle Divinity. Placing my left foot in the stirrup, I grab each end of the saddle and mount her. Pops is already seated on Hendrix and waiting for me. He takes off through the open field towards the back of the property lines. "Come on, girl," I say as I heel her, following behind. I know exactly where he's going: our spot. I d
idn't realize how much I've missed this, riding in the country with the breeze blowing across my face. It's peaceful.
It doesn't take long when we come out of the path that runs through a wooded area, opening into the back field. It's miles of open pasture with lush green grass. I can see our Oak tree and the pond. When Divinity catches it in her vision she takes off running at full speed. I bear down into the saddle and lean forward, allowing the wind to blow over me.
Divinity passes Hendrix as she rushes toward the tree and the pond. She didn't act like this last time Kinzleigh and I rode together. She continues running wide open, until she reaches the huge Oak and digs her hoofs into the grass, halting herself.
I have to firmly press my weight down into the stirrups to avoid flying head first over the horse. I get off once she stops. "Divinity, what the hell?" I place my hands on my hips as I work to catch my breath. She hangs her head slightly and moves past me as if I'm not even here. My brows furrow as I turn to watch her in confusion. She continues to the front of the tree where mine and Kinzleigh's names are carved into the bark. Am I really seeing what I think I'm seeing? How strange.
She places her nose against the hollowed lines in the wood, pressing directly in the middle of the circle. She begins to slow down her rhythm of breathing. A few seconds and she kneels then lies on the spot in front of the tree, in the same spot Kinzleigh and I have spent so many days and nights. You don't see a horse laying very often, especially fully saddled. It's as if she is mourning the loss of her owner, her best friend. "Well I'll be," Pops says from behind me.
I turn and he's already released Hendrix to get a drink of water at the pond. He's standing next to me, but slightly behind, watching the entire ordeal. "Have you ever seen anything like this," I ask, glancing back over to her.
"I've been ranching since I was just a boy. I've seen a fair share of things in my day, but this is a first. I don't have many of those anymore at my age, but one thing to always remember about an animal is that they're never predictable. They know a lot more than you will ever think." He closes in on me and puts his arm around me from behind, resting his hand on my opposite shoulder.
"Come on, Son. Let's give her some space. Miracles and things out of the ordinary happen everyday. One is standing right beside me. It's not our place to second guess the things that can happen at the hand of God and his creatures, but only to enjoy them and know that they are real. I'm sure stranger things have happened."
I allow him to lead me back towards the open pasture. It's just now that I notice wooden stakes in various places not far from the Oak tree. I look over at him as he stares out over the clearing. "What's this?"
He repositions the cowboy hat that is sitting on top of his head. "This is where your house will be in a few months." I stick my index finger in my ear like a cork and wiggle it around. Surely, I'm hearing things.
"What do you mean it's where my house will be? I don't know anything about a house." He looks at me as if I just asked the dumbest question on the planet.
"When Braxton came over yesterday he filled me in on everything that is going on. A man needs a place for his family to lay their heads at night. I called in a long overdue favor and the property lines have already been surveyed. The builders will start construction Monday. I had to pull a few strings on such short notice, but let's just say being a good doctor for over twenty years pays off."
I begin shaking my head as I look back and forth between him and the staked off area of florescent orange tags.
"You and Dad have always drilled it in my head to work for everything I have, and to never accept handouts. I can't accept this Pops. I will have to find another way. I have money, I just have to go through the necessary steps to get it." I squat down, placing my forearms on my thighs, playing with the longer strands of grass.
He hooks his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans, still staring out in front of him. "Breyson, no one said anything about a handout. If I did that it would show you that I don't care about you, because then I wouldn't be teaching you ways to become a man of worth and value. In order to become a decent man, you have to know the quality of working by the sweat of your brow. This is simply a loan. It's just coming from me instead of a bank."
He starts stomping the grass under his feet with the bottom of his boot. "You will work to provide for your family and you will make your mortgage payments to me and Mims. You've always loved this place, and Mims and I are getting older. We won't be around forever. This land needs to belong to someone with the heart that understands its beauty for the way God made it, and not someone just interested in subdivisions and shopping malls. It would be also be nice to have your help around here from time to time, but I don't want you giving up school and football. Where there is a will there is a way, Son. I will continue to pay you to work for me while you're in school as I always have."
He turns toward me and squats so that we're eye level. "Family helps family when they're in need. I have instilled that in your father and I've instilled it in all of you boys. There is no shame in asking for help when you need it as long as you accept it and strive to stand back up on your own two feet. Then, you pay it forward to someone else. I have lived that way all my life and look how much I've been blessed. Just look around you. You worry about your family first and everything else will work itself out. When your priorities are right, Son, God will help you with the rest."
I begin shaking my head again. "I have to have somewhere to bring them now. I can't wait months. I have to be able to afford a place now."
He cups his callused hand around the back of my neck, drawing my attention. "You want to know the beauty of always doing business with the same person?"
I nod. "After the news of the accident went viral, I received a call from our attorney. He said you called him about transferring the primary recipient on all of your accounts from your dad to Kinzleigh, but you never made it in to sign the paperwork before the accident. Since you were just a kid that basically lived with me in the summer when the accounts were opened, I was the joint account holder. I've already had everything processed. Most of the money is sitting in an account set up for Kinzleigh and Bryce, and the rest is sitting in cash inside the safe."
He looks me in the eyes to make sure I'm listening. "I wasn't going to keep the full amount in cash. Both of you are too young to have easy access to that amount of money, and are both still learning the responsibility of managing it. Your parents have always paid the way for both of you. I wasn't going to give her the rest until she turned twenty-one. What's in cash is enough to live luxuriously for any person for that amount of time. Neither will do without. No eighteen year old needs access to that kind of money in a lump some, because once it's gone there is no way to get it back. Mims and I were already planning a trip to California to take her the cash when the baby arrived, but the plans have clearly changed. Take what you need to get by for now, and then we will figure out everything else when you're not in a panic and your family is standing next to you, so you can think without your head being in a fog."
It seems too good to be true. I'm so used to everything going badly I'm almost afraid to hope that I could finally be getting a break. It makes me want to look over my shoulder in expectation that I'm about to get smoked upside the head by a ball soaring through the air.
As if he can see the thoughts running wild in my mind, he saves me from having to respond. "As far as living arrangements until the house is built, coincidentally, I had a tenant move out of my rental property down the road. You can stay there until the house is finished, and then I'll list it for rental. It'll give you some time to get all of the finances organized, develop a routine, and to get your identity back. You need to figure out school. There has to be some kind of option, because of your special circumstances. This ranch will be yours one day, but never do I want you to feel pressured to follow in your father’s footsteps or mine. Follow your heart where it leads you. If it's football, play football, but either way a man needs an ed
ucation. I want you to stop worrying until you bring your family home. Am I clear?"
My eyes begin to blur and I quickly turn away. Pops is the last person I want to cry in front of. He's a hard man; always has been. "Son, look at me." I do as he says, trying to blink the moisture away. "Even the strongest of men have to break down occasionally. It's the only way to cleanse the soul and keep moving forward. As long as you do it in the company of yourself or to the woman God put by your side, there is no reason to be embarrassed."
He stands and I do the same. "Thanks, Pops. I won't let you down."
One side of his mouth pulls up into a half smile and he lightly smacks my back. "I know you won't, Son, and that's why I'm helping you. Come on, you have a family to bring home. There’s no reason to wait longer than you have to."
It finally feels like some of that darkness is being broken with a ray of sunshine. I hope it lasts, because I'm tired of living and breathing under constant rain and thunder, a blackened sky. I'm ready to prosper in the heightened state of the day. When the sun goes down at the day's end, I want to know I have the woman I love to accompany me through each night and the beautiful son we created. That is the only thing in life that I care about from now through the rest of my life.
Chapter 4
Preston
I stand in the doorway with my hands in my pockets, watching her sleep. According to Macie that's all she does. I haven't been home long, but I can't move from the location I'm standing in. My time with her has come to an end and I feel like I'm holding on by a thread. "Breyson," she mumbles in her sleep and turns over, kicking under the covers while clenching the comforter. "Don't leave me."
A drop of moisture trickles down the line of my nose and settles on my bottom lip. I know I've made the right decision for her, but the pain in my chest causes me to second guess myself. My heart wants to murder me by surrendering itself to the other side and my brain is screaming asshole. I need to talk to her, to tell her everything is okay, but I can't bear to wake her, so I do the next best thing.
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