Finding Justice

by Ciana Stone

  "They need some help, Bryson and we owe them."

  "Hey, I wasn't gonna complain. We're gonna take care of it and get this, that lady that Riley Morgan took up with, Annie Becke? She's paying for the whole thing and said money wasn't a problem. Billy told me to call her to talk money, and she offered twenty-five percent more than what I quoted if we could get it done next week."

  "Yeah, we scored on that one, bro." Jayce rose and followed Bryson to the door, slapping JD on the shoulder. The two other brothers, Jasper and Bronson followed suit as the kids bounded up and out the door. "You kids are eating with Eloise in the kitchen." JD yelled after them.

  "We have to eat with the kids?" His son, Briggs asked.

  "No, Pop said for you and Dawson to join us at the big table."

  "Yes." Briggs bumped fists with Dawson.

  By the time they made it to the dining room, Eloise had the food on the table; glasses of iced tea poured for everyone and was in the kitchen with the kids. JD smiled at the sound of laughter coming from the kitchen. Eloise might be getting on up in her sixties, but she had more life than three folks combined, and always knew how to bring light and laughter into the day.

  He took a seat beside his father, who sat at the head of the table. As had been their habit since they were kids, the brothers took seats in rank of age. Across from JD sat Bronson who was two years younger. Beside him sat Jayce the third in line at age thirty-eight. Jasper, age thirty-six and Bryson the baby of the family at age thirty-four filled in the rest of seats across from JD.

  That left Briggs and Dawson to sit next to him.

  During dinner the conversation revolved around the ranch, tasks completed, those needing to be done and what Jason would like to see accomplished when time permitted. JD listened, commented when necessary, and wondered about the topic Pop wanted to keep from the kids.

  Pop waited until everyone finished. The twins cleared the table.

  "Tell the kids to help Eloise with the dishes." Pop called after them as they headed for the kitchen laden with plates and serving dishes.

  "So?" JD asked.

  "So we'll wait on the twins, son."

  "Okay."

  "Wait on the twins for what?" Bryson asked.

  "Something Pop wants to talk to us about."

  "What is it?" Jayce asked.

  "I'll tell you when I'm ready, son."

  No one made another comment after that. They all sat and waited. JD hid a smile. Not a man among them showed anything but respect to their Pop. Jason Weathers might be well into his sixties, but he was still strong as a bull with a mind razor sharp.

  He'd raised all five of them pretty much on his own when their mother announced she wanted a divorce. She planned to move to New York and marry some man she met on a cruise. Pop pleaded with her to stay, but Alice wouldn't give in. She wasn't happy, hadn't been happy most of their married life and she would not spend the rest of her life being miserable.

  JD was almost thirteen at the time, the oldest, and while it upset him, it hadn't surprised him. Alice had never seemed happy. She didn't show any interest in the ranch. She complained incessantly about all the cooking she had to do, even though Eloise, who worked for them part-time, did most of it. Alice spent her time shopping, visiting friends, taking cruises and trips and talking on the phone.

  The twins returned and took a seat, looking expectantly at Pop. Pop looked around at everyone. "I've never talked much to you boys about my childhood, but tonight I'm going to. I grew up in North Carolina. My family had a spread up there, passed down through many generations.

  "I had four brothers, Jacob, Jonas, Joshua, and James. Our ma passed on when we were little and our pa, Jeremiah raised us. He had some brothers, but they all died young so he was the only one left of his people."

  Pop cleared his throat and looked first at the twins. "What you boys don't know, and saints be praised, you never had to experience, is that our family was cursed."

  "Cursed?" Briggs blurted.

  "Yes, cursed. Since the 1800's there hasn't been a girl born to my family. Nor has there been a man born to the family who has ever lived a happy married life. Wives die, kill themselves, kill their men or run off, but they don't stick."

  "Whoa, Pop." Dawson said. "Back up the truck. How do you know the family was cursed?"

  "I didn't know the whole story until recently. Back in the 1800's one of our ancestors lived out west, during the big silver strikes. He met a woman, Sara Whitestone and they had a fling. Her parents found out and shipped her back east to be married. It was an arranged marriage. She became a preacher's wife.

  "Sara went insane. She killed her husband and fled back west with their son. Once she found her lover she tried to convince him to take her back. He laughed at her and called her a fool. Sara tried to kill him but succeeded in killing a young maid that worked in the man's house.

  "She was arrested, tried, and hanged for murder. With her dying breath, she cursed her lover and all his family. Said they'd never know the peace and love of hearth and home, that they would be denied the happy home she was denied."

  He looked around the table at his sons. "You boys know what I'm talking about. You've had the dream. It's her, Sara." Pop paused and took a sip of tea. "From that day to now, there's never been a man in the Nash family who has had a lifelong marriage. Every wife of a Nash man has either killed herself, killed him, gone insane or run away."

  "Nash?" JD asked.

  "Nash is my family name son and I'm getting to that. I was three days past my eighteenth birthday when I got into a scuffle with another fella, Donny Miller. Donny was a lot bigger and a whole lot meaner. Back then I was a string bean, maybe a buck forty soaking wet. Anyway, we were in Rufus William’s barn and Donny was wailing on me pretty good.

  "My brother Jacob tried to stop him and Donny clocked him with an ax handle. Another fella, Claude Jones also tried to help but Donny knocked him clean out. Donny came at me and I shoved him. He tripped and fell back. Right into a hay rake.

  "That thing came right through his body. Blood bubbled out of his nose and mouth and I saw his eyes roll up in his head before his body hit the floor. I don't mind telling you I was scared shitless. Donny's pa was the town lawyer and I was pretty sure I was going to go to prison.

  "Me and Jacob run like jackrabbits. When I got home and told the rest of my brothers what happened, they said I should run. They all threw in every nickel they had and gave me an old nag that was no longer any use for hauling or pulling. That night I left home.

  "I made it to Georgia before my money and my horse gave out. I found work on a farm and stayed there a year, saving my money. Then I headed south again. I ended up in Florida and got a job running cattle. That's where I met your grandmother. She was there with her family. As you know, her father was in the cattle business. When she headed back home to Texas, I headed there with her.

  "Her father gave me a job working on their ranch. Paid me a decent wage. I told them my name was Jason Weathers, and they never questioned that. Two years later, I had enough saved to change my name legally. Got myself a social security card and a driver's license and I was officially Jason Weathers."

  "So who were you before?" Briggs asked.

  "Jedidiah Nash."

  JD stared at his father for a long time before speaking. "Why now, Pop? If you've kept that secret this long, why tell it now?"

  "Because I've been hiding son, thinking if anyone ever found Jedidiah Nash, I'd go to prison."

  "And you don't anymore?"

  "No. Those papers you saw me reading? Country Western Life is doing a piece on the Nash family in North Carolina and sent them to me. There's proof that Donny Miller's death was ruled an accident. My brother Jacob swore he got into the fight and our friend Claude backed him up.

  "I've been hiding for over forty years when I didn't have to. Now all my brothers are gone, but we still have family. Jacob's sons still live on the ranch – Jed, Jake and Jesse. Jed was named after me. Jed's wi
fe –"

  "Jesse Nash from the Rocky River Ranch?" Dawson interrupted. "He's four-time world champion all-around cowboy."

  "Yes he is. And Jed's wife, Mik Morgan is—"

  "Three-time world champion barrel racer." Briggs finished the sentence. "Holy shit! They're our kin?"

  "Yes, they are. First cousins to your daddy and uncles."

  "And?" JD asked.

  "Pardon?"

  "There's more to this than just a family history lesson isn't there, Pop?"

  "Yeah there is. This producer – I've been talking to her and she wants to do a piece on us for the television show."

  "Country Western Life?" Briggs asked.

  "Yep."

  "Holy shit, that's huge!" Dawson said. "They want to do something on us?"

  "Yep."

  "Why?" JD asked.

  "Because we're family and they want to tie things up."

  The bad feeling that had been threatening now bloomed out. Something clawed at his brain making his heart rate speed up and his palms feel damp. JD pushed back from the table. "I don't think we need television people nosing around into our family business."

  "Well, with my name cleared, it's not like we have anything to hide."

  "Don't we?" JD looked at his father. "Really? Think this over real good, Pop."

  "Well, she don't have to bring out the part about the accident and all that. Folks change their names after all, for whatever reason."

  "And some who do are people who have something to hide. Like I said, give it some thought."

  With that, he rose and left the room. He didn't stop until he stood in his own home, gripping the back of a chair so hard his knuckles turned white. The last thing on earth the family needed was a nosey reporter poking around in family business.

  It would not profit anyone for the truth about his wife to come out. His boys thought their mother suffered a heart attack and went off the road. The truth of her death would only bring them pain.

  They didn't need to know that the night she killed herself he could have been there. Nothing prevented him from leaving that auction in Cuero after the second day. Nothing except being a fool and hooking up with that young hottie Jo. Damn if that gal hadn't thrown him completely off his stride – and out of his mind. He couldn't think of anything but the next time he could get his hands on her.

  Shame flooded him at the memories that surfaced. The sex was mind-blowing. He couldn't lie and say that the sex wasn't the primary reason he'd stayed. It had been. But there was also something else. It was like sometimes she would look into his eyes and he'd feel like she understood. That she could see he wasn't trying to be a heartless man, or a man who would use a woman.

  He was just a man with no hope for happiness. It ate at him every day. JD accepted his share of the blame for that. He hadn't been a good enough husband, hadn't loved his wife enough or paid enough attention to her needs. He'd failed, and she turned from him to alcohol and he didn’t know how to make things right or stop her from hating him and blaming him with her unhappiness.

  Failure, fear for the future and anger had him tied in such a knot, he didn't know his ass from a hole in the ground most of the time. But that girl, Jo, she'd looked right into his soul. It scared the holy hell out of him, so much that he left her bed while she slept. If he stayed one hour longer, he'd not be able to leave because he feared she might be the one to save him and he couldn't allow that.

  He'd pay for his sins.

  Now all of that might come out. A reporter would not simply ask questions but dig around. If the one that Pop talked to had dug up information from forty years ago, then what happened in the last five would be a walk in the park.

  JD wanted to hit something. He had to find a way to talk Pop out of this. He knew it in his gut. If they let those people on the ranch, it would ruin them.

  Chapter Four

  Jolene slowed to make the turn off the highway, checking to make sure the rig following her also made the turn. When Jason Weathers said that Cotton Creek was off the beaten path, he wasn't kidding. She pulled out her phone and called the driver of the oversized RV that followed.

  The town was pretty much what she had expected. Small, quaint, clean and old. A lot of it was under construction, which made her wonder what had happened. She followed the directions on her GPS and spotted the address of the house the network had rented. It was two blocks off the main street, three houses down from a church.

  It was a large house, two stories, with enough space to park the RV beside it. She parked the Mustang, got out, went to the front door and knocked. A minute passed before the door opened.

  The lady framed in the doorway was about four feet tall with hair that reminded Jolene of the country-western singing stars of the past. In other words, big. On such a short and round elderly woman, it was almost comical. Dressed in pink Capri pants splashed with big white daisies, a pink long-sleeved top with a huge applique daisy in the center of the chest with sequins for the center, she presented quite the picture.

  Her lips were as pink as her shirt and dangling daisy earrings decorated her ears. Completing her ensemble was a pair of pink bedroom slippers with big floppy daisies on the top.

  "Hello there, can I help you?"

  Jolene couldn't stop the grin from claiming a stake on her face. The lady's voice was the equivalent of a cartoon character, high pitched almost like a small child's.

  "Mrs. Baker?"

  "Yes."

  "Hi. My name is Jolene Windwalker. I believe my assistant contacted you about renting your home?"

  "Oh my yes. She said you wanted the entire bottom floor?"

  "Yes, ma'am. She should have sent a deposit."

  "Oh yes, she did. But why do you need the whole floor? There's five bedrooms and two baths."

  Jolene gestured to the people standing beside the RV. "There are six of us."

  "Oh, well come in, come in. I was just about to put on a pot of tea. Do you like tea?"

  "No, but thank you." Jolene turned to call out to her crew. "Grab your stuff and come in."

  "More a coffee drinker?" Mrs. Baker asked.

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "Well I make a hell of a cup of coffee. Come on back to the kitchen. Oh!" She stopped dead in her tracks and Jolene almost ran into her.

  "Where are my manners? I'm Nellie Mae Baker."

  "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Baker."

  "Pleasure is mine." Nellie Mae resumed her trek to the kitchen. "And call me Nellie Mae."

  The house was as neat as a pin with old but well cared for furniture in the front room, and the dining room that they crossed through. There was also another large sitting area, a parlor, along with what looked like a study, all equally maintained. The kitchen was immaculate as well. Nellie Mae gestured to the small table by the window. "Have a seat."

  Jolene took a seat, glancing out at the back yard. Roses grew along the fence, full and in many hues. Beneath an old tree sat lawn furniture with cushions that matched the palette of the roses. It was a pretty and peaceful setting and she wondered how much time Mrs. Nellie Mae must spend keeping it that way. "If it's not a problem, we'd like to rent the place for a month, just in case it takes longer than expected."

  "An entire month? That's a long vacation and why in the world do you want to be here? Now don't get me wrong, honey. Cotton Creek is a fine place. Been here my whole life. Raised my family and buried two husbands here, but it's not exactly the vacation capital of the world."

  "Oh, it's not a vacation. We're here from Country Western Life Network to film for an upcoming show."

  "CWL?" Nellie Mae stopped scooping coffee into the old-fashioned peculator pot and hurried to the table to sit across from Jolene. "You work for a CWL?"

  "Yes, ma'am."

  Just then, one of her crew, a camera operator, Mickey, stopped at the kitchen door. "You have a preference in rooms, Jo?"

  "No. I'll take whatever is the smallest. There are five, so two of you will have to bunk together."
>
  "No problem."

  "Which show are you doing the film for?” Nellie Mae scooted forward in her seat a little, her expression eager

  "Country Western Real Life."

  "Oh, oh, my god, it's you – that girl. I've seen you on the television."

  Jolene almost laughed at the expression on Nellie Mae's face. "Yes, ma'am. I'm the on-screen host so to speak and the producer."

  "Oh, oh my. And you're here in Cotton Creek to do a story?"

  "Yes ma'am."

  Just then, her audio man, Malachi, stuck his head in the door. "Which room you want, Jo?”

  "Like I told Mickey, just put me in the smallest. There are supposed to be two doubles, so have the guys decide who's doing to bunk with who and make sure you get a room to yourself."

  "Ok."

  Jolene turned her attention to Mrs. Baker, to find her watching wide-eyed. "I'm sorry, where were we?"

  "On who?"

  "Pardon?"

  "Who are you here to do a story about?"

  "Well, I'm not at liberty—"

  "Oh you can tell me. People tell me their secrets all day long. I'm like the secret vault around these parts."

  Jolene smiled. It wasn't a secret. She just didn't like discussing her business. Still, Nellie Mae seemed like a sweet old lady, so what could it hurt?

  "The Weathers family."

  "Jason Weathers?"

  "Yes ma'am."

  "Well, it's a good thing you stopped here first. The things I can tell you about those people."

  "Oh?"

  "Oh my yes. You know I was friends with the wife, Alice since we were girls. She was a bit younger, but we were quite close."

  "Are you still?" The research listed Jason as divorced and his ex-wife remarried and living in New York.

  "Well, no, not since she high-tailed it to New York City with that slicker she took up with. Could have brushed me over with a feather, I tell you. She gave up the whole place to that man. Her family's place, mind you. I bet her daddy is still rolling over in his grave."

  "I thought Mr. Weathers bought his own place when he moved here?"

  "With what?" Nellie Mae snorted and got up to return to her task. "Boy was poor as a church mouse when he showed up."