No More Tears

by Sandy Appleyard

  The kitchen is very large, and appears to encompass the whole back of the house. There is a table for eight in the eat-in kitchen. Glossy, cream, polished tile flooring, juxtaposed by honey brown wooden cabinetry and countertops make the kitchen the perfect balance of modern yet classic. A long, wooden staircase is leading to bedrooms upstairs, I’m guessing, behind the wall off the foyer. There is a small powder room between the kitchen and living room.

  “Beautiful house you have here.” I comment, taking a quick look around.

  “Oh, thank you. If you want, I can show you around when we’re finished.” She offers. I’m guessing that this is more of a good sign. If she was bringing me here to say adios, she wouldn’t have offered to give me the grand tour.

  She closes the study door, and gestures for me to have a seat, and she starts. “Thank you again for lending a hand the other night. I know that that wasn’t easy.”

  “It was no trouble at all, ma’am. I was happy to do it.” I say honestly. “Err…how is…the widow doing?”

  With a slight nod, Laura answers. “She’s doing well. I hired a nanny that I know personally, to lend a hand. And as I said before, I’ve given her some money to help with finances. After her back surgery, she should be doing well.”

  “That’s good to hear. When is the funeral?”

  “It was yesterday.” She explains. “That’s why I haven’t called you back until now. I was a little preoccupied helping Myrtle with funeral arrangements.”

  “That’s quite noble of you.” I state. Feeling awkward.

  Her long, sandy blonde hair is French braided down her back, and the body of the braid is laying on her shoulder, flowing down almost to her waist. There is no indentation on her bare forehead from a hat, so I’ll assume she’s been indoors today. “So, you run all the books and take care of the administrative part of the ranch, I take it.”

  “Yes, that’s correct.” She confirms. “Ten years ago, I ran things on my own with my husband. But things changed, and it was necessary to hire help.”

  “I suppose so.” I purse my lips into a smile.

  “Yes.” She sighs, and I can sense that she feels awkward, as do I. I get the feeling that the mention of her husband causes anxiety. It’s hard to tell if her husband is still around, but I’m guessing that he’s not, since her brother was present when I was here last.

  I watch her refer to a sheaf of paper in front of her on the desk. The window coverings are open, and one of the ranch hands walks by, carrying a shovel. His grimy t-shirt is covered in beads of sweat front and back. The dark hair at the back of his neck is dampening his tilly hat.

  “Mister Thomas—”

  “Please call me Grayson.”

  “Yes, of course.” She licks her lips. “Grayson.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Laura,” she says.

  “Laura.” I repeat.

  I feel hesitation in her voice, and I almost fess up. But I wait. Hope is not lost. There are other opportunities here, and if not in Huttonville, as much as I’m disinclined to head to a bigger city, I can always bite the bullet and head to Dallas. Heck, at least I can bunk in with Tyson, and please Kurt.

  “I noticed that the ranch that you claimed to have worked for does not exist.” She looks at me speculatively. “I do not work well with people who fabricate things or lie. Or steal, as you know.”

  “I would never steal, Laura, for one, and I can promise you that as sure as the nose on my face, I have plenty of ranch experience. I told you I grew up on one, and that’s the truth.”

  “Why did you make up the story about the ranch then? And why, pray tell, did you have three other people make up the same lie for you, on your behalf?”

  That’s it. I’m about ready to put my Stetson back on and thank her for her time, when I’m suddenly curious. “Why did you invite me here to ask me these questions, when you know that I lied to you, and evidently you don’t tolerate that?”

  Laura draws in a deep breath. “Because I know you clearly have an intimate background with horses. How else could you have pulled off settling my herd with one practiced whistle?”

  “Then why the questions?” I refute. “Can’t a man have things about him that he doesn’t want to share with others? That he’s not proud of? I’m sure that you have one or two things that you keep locked away, for your eyes only, too. We all do.”

  She’s growing irritated. “Grayson, why, in heaven’s name, are you seeking a position at a horse ranch, when you were clearly a doctor not, what…a year ago?”

  “Is that why you invited me here? So you can figure out what makes me tick? So you can satisfy all these brown-nosed, nosy, small-towners’ interests? I see them all staring at me in town. They probably all know who you are, and likewise, they all know that I’ve applied for this position. Heck, my goddamn name was in the paper because of the suicide! Everyone knows who I am, and I’ve been here all but four days!”

  She’s glaring at me. “Answer the question, Grayson. You can do that, or you can walk out that door and go apply at Steely Pines on the other side of Huttonville. But I warn you, they’ll pay you less, offer you a shoebox for quarters, and you’ll end up answering the same questions. Nobody is a fool in Huttonville, Grayson. If you’ve come here looking to hide out, you’ll be sorely disappointed.” She pauses. “For someone who grew up on a horse ranch in a small town, you sure seem to have lost your touch for the nuances in such places.”

  My chest is heaving. She’s got me by the balls, and she knows it. I wait for a moment, thinking that maybe she’ll have mercy on me, seeing as, for all intents and purposes, I’m new around here, and probably entitled to a free pass or two on one of the items that she’s thrown at me. But she’s silent. Stubborn as a mule. And I think, there is no way any man would survive in her stronghold. No, her husband’s flown the coop. Probably left tire tracks in his wake.

  Finally, after a decent stalemate, I cave. “I drank my medical license away a year ago.” My voice is flat and poignant. “Twenty-eight days later, I got my first pin, celebrating my sobriety. Now I have two others to match.” I lick my lips, studying her face. It’s softened some, but it looks as if she’s waiting for the punchline. “I lied for a lot of reasons. My three references are my siblings. They’d all take a bullet for me, and I’d do the same for them. I haven’t worked since I lost my license, because…who the hell’s going to hire me. But I figure, after selling everything I own except for what filled my pickup truck, moving to a new town, I might have better luck.” I look at her. “Guess I was wrong.”

  Placing my hat on my head, I rise. “Thanks for your time, ma’am.” I say, heading for the door. As I open it, she calls to me.

  “What was the ranch that you grew up on, Grayson?”

  “Coral Grove. It’s in El Paso, Texas, like I told you.” I say, turning towards her, only in a gesture of proper manners. In my mind, I’m already out the door and getting into my truck. “My brother, Hawk, runs it still. You’re welcome to look it up.”

  She looks at me whimsically. “And what made you leave the ranch and become a doctor?”

  Bowing my head, my heart sinks, as I remember. “I did it to impress a girl.”

  Chapter 5

  Laura

  Grayson walks out the door, and I let him. But as he walks off the porch, I watch, from the window in my study, as he helps a couple of my hands with a long railroad tie. He doesn’t even hesitate. The boys are young and don’t have quite the strength to carry it, just the two of them, so Grayson takes one end, while the two boys take the other. As they carry it to the back, where we’re building a new trough for the horses, I follow them. This…mystery man…isn’t aware that I’m watching him.

  “Now bring it down slow, partner.” He says to Ned, the overly eager kid who I hired because of his father, one of my other hands. As they bring the tie down to the ground safely, Grayson asks. “You guys got the proper stakes for these?”
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  “I think so. My dad picked them up yesterday.” Ned answers. His younger brother, Edgar, is very shy and quiet, and says nothing, especially since he sees me.

  “You don’t have the proper ones, and they’ll slip.” Grayson says. “Let’s go take a look.”

  I interrupt. “Hold on, Grayson.”

  I dismiss the boys, telling them to go help their father in the pasture for now. “I’ll put you on a three-month probationary period.” I say firmly, making up my mind.

  “Okay.” I see that those gold rings on a chain are hanging from his neck again, dangling down past a small crest of hair on his chest. I can’t help but wonder if those rings are the reason why Grayson drank. Pretty sure they are, but I don’t ask. I’ve already pried enough for one day.

  “You can come and fill out the paperwork now if you like.” I offer. “You can start today if that suits you. I have coveralls in the barn if you need them.”

  “No, that’s fine. My clothes are mostly rags, anyhow.” He says with a slight chuckle that I take as cheerful. He’s happy that he got the job after all. I have the grace to smile. “Thank you, Laura. I promise you won’t regret it.”

  “Ask me in three months if I regret it.” I say firmly.

  “Fair enough.”

  “My brother Will will be pleased.” I comment. “He promised to come lend a hand while I look for a replacement, but his job kept him there. I was about to call and beg him to come when I saw the trough broke this morning. The horses sure aren’t enjoying drinking from the buckets.”

  “From the look of it, it wasn’t put together properly from the start.” Grayson comments and we head back to the house. “That was one of the first things my daddy taught me when I was a kid. We built so many things with them railroad ties. My mama’s porch and all.”

  “You helped your father build a lot, it sounds like.” I say, as we enter the house and go into the study.

  “We built everything together, tamed horses, road them, it was quite a life.” He admits as I hand him the paperwork to fill out. He unconsciously tucks the chains under his shirt as they dangle when he bends over to write on the documents.

  “That’s a nice necklace.” I comment.

  He looks up at me, and I notice his big blue eyes. They’re almost mesmerizing with the late morning sunshine reflecting on them from the side. “Thanks.” He says and leaves it at that. I deserved that.

  As he completes the paperwork, I do an internet search on Coral Grove. “Your brother looks a lot like you.” I comment, turning the monitor so that he can see what I’m doing.

  “He should. We’re fraternal twins.”

  “Really?” Finally, a fun fact.

  “Yep. Lots of twins in the Thomas family.” He says, penning away his information.

  “Remember when you sign that document, it’s legally bound.” I tease, poking at his lying earlier.

  He looks up at me and gives me a wink, picking up on the joke. Thank God he has a sense of humor.

  “Didn’t know you had a sense of humor.” He comments, placing his attention back on the papers, and I get a shiver. It’s like he read my mind.

  “If you grew up on a ranch, you know very well that you need one.”

  “You’ll get along great with my brother Kurt then. He’s all jokes.”

  “Will, too. You got a little glimpse of him already.”

  “I don’t have a lot of stuff. So don’t worry that living quarters aren’t going to suit me. I’ve been living at The Acres for the past four days.”

  I roll my eyes. “No wonder you’ve been getting the looks, Grayson.” I chuckle.

  He puts the pen down. I’ve piqued his interest. “Why do you say that?”

  “Let’s just say that The Acres is where you take certain…shall we say…friends…for an afternoon delight, so I’ve heard.” I raise a hand. “At least, that’s what the word is around town.”

  “How long have people been saying that?”

  “For as long as I can remember.”

  “Well, they don’t live up to their reputation.” He states honestly. “The place is as clean as a whistle, quiet as a newborn baby, and I didn’t see hardly anyone looking guilty around there.”

  I guffaw. “Must be a slow week, Grayson.”

  He frowns. “I suppose it is.” He nods once and signs the documents at the bottom line, and then hands them to me.

  “You can head back to The Acres and pick up your stuff if you like, or I can show you around and introduce you. Whatever you like.” I pause. “And keep in mind that living quarters are optional. Will it be just yourself, or will your wife be accompanying you?” I ask, veiling the probe.

  “Just me.” he says, not taking the bait. “And I haven’t got much, as I said. So I can start now. I’ll go get my stuff at the end of the day if it’s all the same to you.”

  “Eager to start working, I see. That’s a good sign.”

  “I’m not one to spectate, Laura. When there’s work to be done, I do it.”

  “I can see that.” I take his papers from him. “Shall we?” I gesture to the door.

  “Right.”

  We take a right, heading down to the kitchen. “You’ll have your meals in here. You’ve met Grace. She’s a wonderful cook. There’s a small kitchenette in your quarters, too, if you prefer to eat alone. Sometimes when the guys feel like watching television, they head into Louie’s old room and eat while watching a game or something. The guys are very respectful, though. You’ll get to know them.”

  “Sounds great. I don’t mind a family meal, though.”

  I add. “It’s also handy when flu season comes around.”

  “I never get sick.”

  “That’s what my daddy always said, Grayson.” I point out. “Then he had a massive heart attack at a very young age.”

  “And that’s when you inherited this palace.” He states. “But I bet he didn’t have hands. I bet he was one of them types that did everything himself. Just like my daddy.”

  “Well, you’re right there.” I admit.

  “That’s how come your daddy and my daddy both dropped dead young.” He says, opening a cupboard with etching on it, inspecting the craftsmanship.

  “Right again.”

  “And I suppose you tried to do the same thing when you inherited this place, didn’t you.”

  I don’t answer, as I’m starting to feel like a broken record.

  He takes my silence as confirmation. “What made you decide to hire help?” he’s running his fingers along the countertop, feeling the grain in the wood.

  “Exactly what you guess. I…couldn’t do it alone, even with Will’s help.”

  Satisfied with the casual inspection, Grayson turns around to face me.

  “Let’s go see your living quarters.” I suggest. As we walk back down the hallway, I point out the stairs to the bedrooms on the second floor, and the living room. “The powder room you’re welcome to use. There’s also a washroom in the barn, and a communal washroom in the quarters. You and the boys share a washroom for now, until I get the three-piece washroom in your quarters fixed. There was never a need…as you know, Louie lived up the street, so his quarters weren’t used other than for the odd day here and there.”

  “Understood.”

  We leave the house, and walk across the lawn, clipped short in a stretch, and then we arrive at the fence to the pasture, where the horses are outside grazing. I name all the horses off, giving a brief history of each animal, as Grayson steps slowly, looking at each of them individually. The pasture is large, with the broken trough along the length of one of the wooden fence panels. Trixie, one of my brown horses, walks over when Grayson makes a funny whistling sound.

  “That’s not quite the sound you used the other day.”

  “There are others.” Grayson explains. Trixie approaches, first nudging me with her nose, so I give her a pat, and then she looks at Grayson.

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p; “Hey, there, beautiful.” He says to her. “You mind if I touch your nose, too?”

  He carefully places his hand on her flank, petting her, and then she lowers her head slightly, so that her nose is in reaching distance from his hand. He pets her nose. “There you go. That’s nice, isn’t it?”

  “Maybe I’ll get you to exercise her first.” I chuckle. “She seems to have a crush on you.”

  “I seem to have that effect on mares.”

  “Evidently.” I giggle, as Trixie lays her snout on his shoulder. He pets her, leaning into her snout like he’s giving her a hug.

  “Aren’t you a little lover.” He says, chuckling. “I think you’ll be my favorite.”

  “You’re the chosen one.” I state, when we see Edgar, Ned’s brother, come tearing out of the barn.

  “Call nine-one-one!” he’s shouting.

  Grayson runs toward the boy, and I follow in their wake.

  “What happened?” Grayson asks Edgar.

  “It’s Ned. It was an accident. I was using the pickaxe on a patch of clay, and I didn’t know his hand was there.” His voice is panicked.

  “Okay. Just…stay calm.” Grayson says, as we approach the patch of land that they were working on at the back of the barn. Ned is unconscious, and there is blood spurting from his arm. Without hesitation, Grayson rips his shirt open, pulling it from his body, and removes his cell phone from his back pocket, handing it to me. “Call an ambulance.” He instructs levelly.

  The dirt is in a tidy pile, next to a visible clump of clay, layered under soil. “I…I wasn’t looking, I guess. Ned said he saw something shiny in the dirt, and he was trying to find it. My mind wandered, and the next thing I know he screams and there’s blood everywhere.” Edgar explains. “Is he dead? Did he bleed to death?”