Chapter 47
CHAPTER
FORTY-SEVEN
GUNNER
My phone rings from my back pocket, but I ignore it and stare at the man in mom’s living room.
Uncle Clarence, or ‘Uncle Clancy’ to most of us, still uses a cane and the way it tap-tap-taps on the polished wooden floors makes me clench my fists and brace myself for a fight.
His hair is just as grey as it was that day outside the church. His eyes are just as sharp and piercing, bracketed by the very same wrinkles that deepen when he flashes a deceptively serene smile.
It shocks me that he hasn’t aged a day. He might as well have walked right out of my worst memories.
“Gunner. Let me give you a hug.” Uncle Clancy wraps his arms around me like a snake engulfing its prey in a lethal hug.
I stiffen in his arms, holding myself still.
He leans back, glancing over at my mother who’s beaming at us as if Uncle Clancy hangs the moon.
“How many years has it been, Clancy?” Mom asks.
“Long enough that I almost didn’t recognize Gunner. Your son got so big, Carol!” Uncle Clancy wags a wrinkled finger in my face. “Looking at him, you wouldn’t believe he was ever small enough for me to pick up and carry around.”
My mother laughs.
Uncle Clancy joins her.
The harmony of their voices suffocates me.
Mom grins. “How long are you going to be in town, Clancy? Does anyone else know you’re here?”
“Not yet,” Uncle Clancy says, tapping his way to the chair and sitting down gingerly. “I thought it would be a nice surprise if I showed up unannounced.”
“I’m honored that we’re the first house you came to. Stewart and the rest will be so jealous when they hear.” Mom preens.
I growl at my uncle, “Why the sudden visit?”
Mom’s eyes whip to me, blazing with silent disapproval. “Excuse him, Clancy. Gunner’s not one for mincing words, but his bark is worse than his bite.”
Mom finishes off the excuse with another, pointed look at me.
Behave, her eyes convey.
Uncle Clancy grips the top of his cane and swivels to face me. “I was finishing up a very important deal close by and I figured, since I’m here, I might as well come down to Lucky Falls and see the old haunts.”
“You’ve been gone since the funeral, haven’t you?” Mom taps her chin. “Wow. How many years has it been?”
“Too long,” Uncle Clancy says wearily. “I stopped by the cemetery on my way in.”
Mom turns sober. “Did you visit Clay’s grave? We keep it clean and I regularly change the flowers.”
“I appreciate that.” Clancy smiles sadly. “It’s been so long, but the pain of losing him is still fresh. Between the two of us, Clay was the dreamer.”
“He contributed so much to Lucky Falls,” mom says, dabbing at the corner of her eyes. “I’ll never forget how nervous I was when I got married and he spoke to me so kindly and made me feel welcome. He was the kindest man I’ve ever met.”
“Maybe a little too kind.” Clancy’s eyes turn strained. “If I wasn’t there to stop him, our family would have gone broke a long time ago.”
Mom straightens her shoulders. “Well, there’s a time for kindness and a time for business. You need both to survive. That’s why you were such a great team. It’s thanks to you and Clay investing in Lucky Falls that our family was able to thrive here.”
“Clay was the one who saw what this town could be. I was just along for the ride.”
Mom smiles.
“Carol, you wouldn’t happen to have something warm I could drink, do you?” Clancy rubs his throat. “I’m feeling a bit under the weather.”
“Of course. Of course. I’ll be back in a jiffy. Gunner, you should update your uncle on everything you and the team have accomplished this season. Did you hear that the Chance McLanely joined our local hockey team?”
“That I did.” Uncle Clancy lets out a rusty laugh. “Very impressive.”
Mom beams from ear to ear. “I’ll be right back.” On her way past me, mom stops and gives me a pointed look.
I hold myself still until she disappears.
The moment her footsteps recede, all the warmth in the room leaves with her.
“Gunner, sit, sit. Why are you standing there? You look uncomfortable.”
I remain standing, on edge.
Uncle Clancy laughs at my face and then he looks past me, sighing heavily. “My brother had a soft spot for this backward town.” His eyes pierce through the window. “I never understood what he found so magical about this tiny place. My whole life, I knew I was destined for bigger things, but Clay never seemed to get it. You can’t go big in a town this small.”
Uncle Clancy’s posturing is fooling no one. It was Grampa Clay’s investments in this ‘tiny’ town that gave him the seed capital to start his business back in the city. Everything he has now… is because of this town.
“You never answered my question,” I say darkly. “Why are you really here?”
“You know…” He pushes to his feet. “That deep voice of yours makes everything you say sound like a threat.”
I watch him, silently measuring his movements as he gets closer.
The day of the funeral, Uncle Clancy was wearing a three piece suit along with the cane. Today, he’s dressed in a more simple shirt and khakis but, somehow, he still carries the same subtly dangerous air as he did in flashy funeral clothes.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re angry with me, Gunner?”
I hold still.
Uncle Clancy feigns a smile. “You’re not still upset about what I told you after the funeral?”
‘You need to stay away from that girl, Gunner.’
‘Our family did something really, really bad to hers. ’
‘ And if that girl ever finds out, bad things will happen to our family. Or to her. Do you understand?’
“So you do remember,” I growl.
His pleasant facade drops and he stops beside me, staring in the opposite direction. Voice low and dark, he says, “I thought you were the one who forgot.”
Never.
I still remember the way he loomed over me with his dark scowl.
The way his fingers clawed into my shoulder, hard enough to hurt.
The way his voice thickened with a threat because—even as a naive and relatively innocent child—I knew he meant it when he said; that Rebel would be hurt if I kept being her friend.
“Here you go.” Mom re-enters the living room with a tray of drinks. “What were you two chatting so seriously about?”
“Oh, nothing. Just taking a walk down memory lane,” Uncle Clancy says, backing away from me. “Thank you, Carol. Why, this drink looks lovely.”
“It was nothing.” Mom blushes and waves away his compliment.
Uncle Clancy takes a sip. His eyes slam into mine over the rim of the cup. “Gunner and I were talking about his memories from the funeral.”
“He was so young then,” mom says, a note of surprise in her voice. “I doubt he remembers much.”
“I remember everything,” I reveal coldly.
“After the funeral, I gave him a little talk about making good choices and watching out for bad folks who want to destroy his future.”
My back goes ramrod straight.
His eyes train on me unflinchingly. “You were such a good boy, very obedient. Your mother taught you well.”
I clench my jaw.
“He’s still a good boy.” My uncle releases me from his firm look and points a calculated smile at my mother. “Isn’t he, Carol?”
“Er…” My mother looks between me and Uncle Clancy as if she can sense something is wrong about this conversation, but she can’t put her finger on it. “Since you’re here, Clancy, why don’t I call the rest of the family over? Rather than visiting them one by one, they can come here instead. It’ll be a nice little gathering.”
My uncle and I are eyeing each other like gunslingers in a western. I doubt either of us are hearing a word of mom’s nervous spiel.
I size my uncle up. If we were on the ice and someone came onto my turf, taunting me like this, I’d slam them into the boards and take my chances in the sin bin. But this game we’re playing still hasn’t been defined yet. I don’t know the rules and I don’t know how to win.
My phone buzzes again. Someone’s desperately trying to reach me.
I check my phone and notice I have several missed calls from Rebel.
Then I notice a text from Chance.
CHANCE: The firm called. They found evidence of your Uncle Stewart selling off land and sharing the profits with Clarence Kinsey.
There’s another text with a pdf attachment of the documents.
Bingo.
I open the documents and read through quickly, glad that I have my experience in finance which makes the accounting clear. The story these numbers paint shakes loose in front of my eyes in high definition.
My gaze lifts from my phone to my uncle. Whatever he’s hiding has something to do with the land he’s selling off.
How nice of him to come back to Lucky Falls so I can confront him on my turf.
Just as my confidence rises, a needling voice in the back of my head holds me back. ‘Don’t do it, Gunner. Think of your parents. What if this secret hurts them? ’
I remember Uncle Stewart’s warning. ‘Give me your father’s badge first. Hand over your uncle’s political career. Fire your mother as chairwoman of the Society. Then I’ll tell you.’
What if exposing this secret destroys the happiness of my entire family? Would it still be worth the price?
I trust you, Gunner .
Rebel’s words from earlier fill me with a quiet determination.
At seven years old, I had no choice but to cower in front of my uncle. At fifteen, I watched Rebel from afar, missing her like crazy and burning with longing. At eighteen, I ripped her heart out when I held myself back from kissing her. And again, as adults, it took faking a relationship to finally get close.
I kept my distance for decades. I spent my entire life, bowing to the whims of my family, carrying the burden of being a Kinsey, of protecting my family from the consequences of their sins, because I felt I had no other choice.
But now a choice is in front of me.
Will I still be that scared little seven year old, shaking and panicking because of his uncle’s grave words?
I look at the ground, contemplating.
And then my eyes snap up, burning with determination.
The decision I need to make isn’t easy, but it is simple.
My family shaped my past, but Rebel is my future. The girl I turned my back on all those years ago is the woman I now need to protect.
My lips curl up in a cold smile and I don’t take my eyes off the old man when I say, “Mom, I’d like to show Uncle Clancy the apple orchard.”
“All of a sudden?” Mom’s voice warbles. “Why?”
I tilt my head, daring my uncle to make a move.
I’ve been tiptoeing around this matter long enough. If he pushes me, I’ll crack the whole thing wide open, right here in front of my mom.
Clancy’s smile drops and he grits his teeth.
The tension in the room pulls taut, threatening to snap and sting someone hard enough to draw blood.
“I’d love to see the apple orchard. Excuse us, Carol.”
My heart burning a hole in my chest, I stalk through the door and hear the tap-tap-tap of Uncle Clancy’s cane behind me.