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Matt didn’t answer; he seemed to be contemplating.
“Were dere birfdays?” Caleb wanted to know.
Matt shook his head, but Ryan said, “There were no birthdays, but Trey took the bracelet that Mary got for her birthday and Mary had to chase him all around the playground.”
Joel thought he saw a slight smile hit Jared’s face, even though Jared didn’t seem willing to add to the conversation.
“How about you?” Billy encouraged. “Did you see Trey chasing Mary?”
“No,” Matt admitted, “but I saw him get in trouble. Miss Armstrong made him sit out the rest of recess.”
Ryan and Caleb finished their food within minutes. Ryan took out a homework paper. Caleb went into the living room to admire the two giant bags of birthday decorations that he promised not to touch. After a moment, Ryan shouted, “Done!” and headed for the living room to tease his little brother about the birthday present bandit.
Billy looked at Matt, who’d taken two tiny bites of his hot dog and totally ignored the fries. “You don’t need to clean your plate tonight.”
Joel couldn’t tell who was more surprised: Matt or Jared.
Maybe Matt. He looked at his grandpa without moving.
“Go ahead,” Jared urged, adding to the conversation for the first time.
Still, Matt dragged his feet. Finally, Jared held up a finger. “One.” Then up went another finger. “Two.” Matt’s plate made it to the sink on four; he made it out the kitchen door on five.
Without the boys, the room took on an uncomfortable quiet.
Billy didn’t waste a minute. In a serious tone, he began, “Joel and I were talking after I picked up the boys. We didn’t get a chance to finish.”
Jared didn’t even question about what, just gave Joel a suspicious and unwelcoming look.
“First,” Billy said, “why don’t you tell us what brought you home.”
The expression on Billy’s face didn’t change. He’d been a principal for more than forty years and told anybody willing to listen that “he’d seen it all.” He’d been a successful principal because while he’d seen it all, he was still willing to listen.
Jared didn’t say anything. His lips were puckered in a straight line that Joel recognized. He didn’t really care what Joel had to say, just wanted Joel out of here and for things to go back to normal. Listening to his little brother was so low on his list of priorities that it wasn’t a priority at all.
“I should have stayed in New Mexico.” Joel didn’t mean it, though. Something about being in his childhood kitchen, seeing the school papers held by magnets on the fridge, and sitting at the table where he’d helped his mom make cookies and in turn his mom had helped him with homework, something about it all made him catch his breath and consider what he’d given up.
“You keep up with my career?” Joel asked.
Jared shook his head, but Billy said, “You’ve been a midlister for quite a while.”
A midlister, not a rodeo term but definitely a retired teacher term, felt like a grade of C. “I’m only eight years in,” Joel said. “I still have at least ten years of competition ahead of me.”
Jared gave a half snort.
“The highest standing you’ve managed to reach is fifty,” Billy said.
“And that kind of standing has earned me enough money to stay in the show even after the seed money was spent.”
Jared tensed. The seed money might have been Joel’s half of the farm, but in Jared’s mind, the farm needed it more than Joel.
Billy held up his hand, halting the dialogue. “This is not the conversation I meant to have. What exactly brought you home? I read that you were injured, but I don’t recall which rodeo or what happened.”
“I was in Lovington, New Mexico, just over a month ago. I did fine, came in third and took home a purse of just under two thousand dollars. I was supposed to meet up with some friends in Missouri after that, but the morning I was to leave, the Monday after the rodeo, I had a hard time getting out of bed. I was as stiff as I’d ever been.”
“You came in third, so you kept your seat,” Billy remembered.
“That I did. The only thing I can figure is I must have landed wrong, hurt myself and not even realized it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that I went to bed fine, woke up stiff that morning and by evening, a buddy literally carried me to the truck and drove me to the emergency room. I’ve never hurt so much. I couldn’t move to the left or right without nauseating pain. Doctor there said acute lumbar strain and vertebrae damage. For a solid week, I was in bed, in a lonely motel room. After that, I started physical therapy, and everything seemed to be going great. I could bend, jump and even lift. Then, after about two weeks of that, I was walking toward the motel room and I can’t even describe what it felt like, except that my back did a little break-dance of its own without my permission. Just like that, I was back in bed and on pain pills. After a week, I realized I couldn’t do it on my own.”
“And that’s when you decided to come home,” Billy figured.
Joel looked at Billy and then at his brother. On Billy’s face was an expression of concern. Jared’s face, however, remained suspicious.
“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“You were right to come home,” Billy said.
Looking at Jared, Joel continued, “This is truly the strangest injury I’ve ever had. One day I feel like I could possibly jump on the back of a bull and do the eight-second ride, the next day I’m wondering if I can make it to the bathroom.”
“So basically,” Jared stated, looking at Billy and not at Joel, “he’s coming home because he needs help but he can’t be of any help.”
“I—” Joel started.
“—always have a home here,” Billy said firmly. “I won’t lie. I’m having a hard time forgiving how you literally ran away, how few times you called and how you never came home when we needed you.”
“I didn’t find out about Mandy until it was too late,” Joel started. “I would—”
“No excuses. We’re done.” Billy looked at Jared. “The Bible’s very clear. It’s about time you dust yours off. Joel is family, and Jesus clearly states in the fifth chapter of First Timothy that ‘if anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for his immediate family, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.’”
Jared did not look repentant. “The Bible also says, ‘Thou shalt not steal.’”
Joel felt his teeth clench. What was most amazing was that in eight years, the family had so tiptoed around this ridiculous accusation that it was the first time he’d heard of it. “I didn’t steal.”
“Joel was about to tell me his side of what happened to the RC money,” Billy spoke up, “but then Matthew got sick to his stomach and Beth Armstrong interrupted us.”
“I can’t believe you think I would steal money.”
“It’s no secret that you thought your half of the farm was worth more,” Jared said.
“True, but I also thought—okay, dreamed—that I’d be looking at career winnings of over a million dollars. You heard me say that for years. I got my Professional Rodeo Cowboys’ Association card right before I left. I believed so strongly in my dream. Plus, you knew I felt guilty taking what I did. That’s why I left the way I did.”
“Every little bit helps,” Jared quoted their father.
“I didn’t take the RC money,” Joel said again, not that Jared was listening. Billy, though, finally looked a little more thoughtful than stoic.
“Twelve thousand, three hundred and seventy-four dollars,” Jared stated.
“You have the amount memorized?” Joel asked, incredulous, looking at his big brother.
“Of course I do.” Jared stood. Carefully, methodically, he put his dinner plate and glass in the kitchen sink. Then, as he walked out the door, he added, “I reimbursed the club so they wouldn’t press charges.”
Outside, the whir of a combine penetrated the murkiness that made up Joel’s slumber. He kept his eyes tightly closed, hoping the headache would disappear and sleep would return. It didn’t.
The bed was harder than it needed to be, but maybe that was just an effect of the pain in every bone in Joel’s body. Especially his head. Great, until the night before last the only thing that hadn’t hurt was his head. Opening one eye, Joel winced and took in his surroundings and noted the time. Wide awake at seven on a Saturday morning. Who needed an alarm clock? Pain worked better and didn’t offer a snooze option.
He slowly opened the other eye.
The guest room hadn’t really changed in the last fifteen years, not since his mother had decorated it in a fit of Martha Stewart enthusiasm and a good crop year. Both his parents were gone now—his dad while Joel was still in elementary school to a tractor mishap, his mom to cancer the year he turned eighteen. When she died, Joel lost his footing. The only thing he’d wanted was to leave because he no longer felt like he belonged.
But maybe he’d left because it hurt to belong.
Their memory dimmed as Joel eased up to a sitting position. He managed to get one leg to the ground, and while he rested he stared at the only thing new in the room, a sewing machine. It must have belonged to Jared’s late wife, Mandy. Come to think of it, right before Jared’s wedding, there’d been a bunch of Mandy’s friends gathered in the living room doing something to the curtains with those plastic things that came with cola six-packs. Two years later, right before Joel left, Mandy and her best friends had been sitting in the same living room, the one that now had prettier curtains, making baby blankets.
Had Beth been there? He tried to remember and finally, after thinking of all the times he’d hung around with Beth’s sisters, a memory surfaced. She’d been there, but not to sew. She offered advice a time or two, but just as often as not, when Joel came through the room, she’d been reading. He remembered now.
No wonder he hadn’t realized what a beauty she was. She’d been so young and always had her head down with her nose stuck in a book.
He put both hands, palms down, on the bed and pushed. He stood, winded and then sat down again as the knob on the bedroom door started to turn. He’d left the hospital yesterday feeling good on whatever they’d pumped him full of. Today wasn’t going to be such a feel-good day.
He heard a few snickers and maybe some pushing, and finally the door inched open. More snickering and then, as though he’d been pushed, Caleb hurtled in and stumbled to a halt. Two fingers were in his mouth, shoved deep enough to hurt.
“Morning, Caleb,” Joel greeted. “Are you being shy today?”
The fingers didn’t come out of his mouth and Caleb didn’t respond.
From the doorway came a whispered command, “Tell him it’s time for breakfast. Tell him Grandpa said.”
But, as youngest sons are prone to do, this one didn’t listen, just shook his head again.
“It’s time for breakfast.” The door opened all the way and Ryan came in. He gave his little brother a dirty look. “Grandpa said. And Caleb’s not shy, he’s just being stubborn.”
The words may have come from an eight-year-old’s mouth, but they were Jared’s words, complete with tone. The way Joel had heard them, all those years ago, was more like, “I’m Jared, the oldest. And Joel’s off hiding somewhere because he doesn’t want to do the real work. He’s just being lazy.” Real work was driving the tractor, not making sure it worked. Real work was spending eight hours straight harvesting, not spending eight seconds on a bull for a chance at a couple thousand dollars and a buckle.
Jared and Joel had different ideas of fun.
Matt peeked through the door, not willing to enter, but not willing to miss out on what was happening. “Matt is shy,” said Ryan. Matt neither disagreed nor entered the room.
“I’m three.” Caleb took the two fingers from his mouth and held them up.
“He’s three,” Ryan agreed. “And after we eat, Grandpa wants you to help set up his party.”
Joel managed to stand once again.
“You not staying?” Caleb asked, moving closer.
“Dad says you’re leaving soon,” Ryan agreed. “And we’re not supposed to talk to you except when we have to.”
“Grandpa says he’s staying,” Matt reminded from the doorway. “Until he’s better.”
“I’m not sure what I’m doing,” Joel said.
“He’s staying.” Grandpa Billy put his right hand firmly on Matt’s shoulder. “And you boys are leaving. It’s past time for you two to be doing your chores.”
Billy hadn’t made a sound as he walked down the hallway. Years of being an elementary school principal had taught him how to sneak up on kids. Ryan and Caleb giggled. Matt pretty much harrumphed, sounding more like Grandpa Billy than a mere boy. After a moment, they all left.
Joel put a hand to his head. He wasn’t sure if it was his nephews’ visit or the passing of time, but his headache was gone. Outside he could hear the tractor shutting down and the boys shouting, “Morning, Dad.” At least some things didn’t change.
He felt a pull in his lower back, but it was only a dull ache, not a blinding pain that flashed every time he so much as twitched. You’d think the minor traffic accident would have made things worse. Instead, it was just another day of not knowing if he’d be bedridden or moving.
That’s what happened with acute lumbar strain and multiple vertebra damage.
He heard the tractor start again and quickly die. He heard another vehicle, too, and at first thought it was Billy driving away. Instead, an engine turned off and someone, maybe Ryan, shouted, “Hey.”
Joel went to the window and opened the curtains wide. Max McClanahan II was already heading toward Jared. Joel could just imagine the gist of their conversation.
Max would be saying something like, “How fast were you chasing Joel when he hit our fence?”
And Jared might be saying, “If I’d been chasing him, he’d be gone. How much damage and what’s the cost?”
Nope, Joel didn’t need any help imagining the conversation happening right under his window, especially when he saw Max extend his arms wide and laugh.
Guess there wasn’t just a small hole in that fence. Jared didn’t laugh in return. Just shook his head. Joel couldn’t believe he’d neglected to get Billy to show him the damage yesterday. Five bucks. That’s all Joel had. And, in just a little over the past twenty-four hours, he’d managed to add more hospital bills and now a fence.
“Dad, I gotta go potty!” A small boy opened the door to Max’s truck. A little girl tried to scamper behind, but was caught in the seat belt until Billy went over to help her out of it. Max raised a hand, signaling for the little boy to head for the house.
No, very little had changed at Solitaire Farm. True to form, Joel was the last one out of bed. And, by the time he made it downstairs, Max and his kids had already headed back home.
Twenty years ago, Max had considered the McCreedy home as his and popped over on a whim. Jared and Joel had done the same at the McClanahan place. Max’s mother was the best cook in Iowa. All through school, Max had been one grade above Joel and one grade behind Jared. He’d been the class clown, always struggling to make it through with Cs, never making first string and he was the first of their group to notice hair loss.
Judging by the smile on his face when he looked at the two kids, none of that mattered anymore. His life was going pretty well. No doubt, in Roanoke, Iowa, quite a lot about his high school friends had changed in the last eight years. They were planting families, growing careers and harvesting community.
They were also all older and wiser, while Joel had just gotten older.
Chapter Four
Saturday afternoon, Beth parked behind a parade of cars and followed her sister Linda across the driveway and up to Solitaire Farm’s porch. Susan had wanted to crash the party along with Linda, but the smell of birthday cake made her ill. However, bubblegum ice cream topped with blueberries made her happy. Go figure. Susan enjoyed being pregnant entirely too much.
A banner tied between two ceiling slates promised a Rootin’ Tootin’ Birthday. The door was propped open with a train, and inside the living room was scattered a handful of parents, more than Beth expected to see. The only parent missing was Jared.
With the way Matt had been acting yesterday, half in awe and half afraid of Joel, Beth didn’t want to wait any longer before speaking to Jared. She hated using a kid’s birthday party for a parent-teacher conference, but Jared had a knack for avoiding issues.
Mona Gabor smiled and waved Beth over, but Beth pointed to the back door. “Is Jared outside?”
Mona shook her head. “He’s down at Solitaire’s Market, no doubt hoping a few of the parents will stop and make a purchase or two.”
