Chapter 2 #3
“I’d just like to see some kind of business go in that old barn,” Noah said. “Along with the old store where Bo and Maverick have their music business, that barn is part of the history of Spanish Fort.”
“Ask Mama about this town,” Tertia said. “She’s written several historical romances about the Paradise when it was a brothel, back in the cattle run days. They stopped here on their way to Dodge City.”
“What’s the attraction of the old barn?” Tripp asked.
“Justin Boots got its start right here in Spanish Fort,” Mary Jane answered. “I couldn’t find any absolute details about the barn, but it’s been standing there for at least a hundred years. Wouldn’t it be something if you carried on the tradition of leather works here.”
“And while we’re talking about jobs”—Joe Clay grabbed another hot roll and then sent them around the table again—“Knox, you are welcome to use any of my tools out in the barn when you guys start to rebuild.”
“Thank you,” Knox said.
Brodie took four gulps of tea but didn’t get the lump in his throat to go down.
His mother had told the boys the stories of their parentage only a few days before she died.
Since college, Tripp had been working as the CEO of their father’s small oil corporation.
Knox had won the battle with their folks about college—opting to go straight into carpentry work.
They had all thought that they were orphans until Brodie decided to make a trip to north Texas and find his biological father.
He never expected the family would take all three of the Callahan brothers in like they had or that he would find a working organic farm for sale.
“I might not need a room in the new house if I start up a leather goods business,” Tripp sounded excited. “I could make a small apartment in the back of the barn. I could not only build saddles, boots, belts, purses, and all kinds of things, but I could also do boot repair.”
“You would have a place to live as well as a store to sell your goods,” Knox told him. “But after a while you might need or want something bigger than a little apartment. When that time comes, what kind of house would you like?”
“A log cabin,” Tripp answered.
“You better make your log cabin big enough for a family, because when I get Brodie to the front of the altar, I will begin looking for a wife for you,” Bernie said.
Knox chuckled.
Bernie pointed a bony finger at him. “Don’t laugh, young man. I’ll be on the lookout for you as soon as we get your brothers married off. I’m only working for one of you at a time, starting with the oldest and working my way down to you!”
“Don’t get in a rush, Aunt Bernie,” Mary Jane said. “I like these guys being around. We can get to know them a lot better when they live here. Coming around for Sunday dinner when the whole family is here doesn’t give us much time.”
“Thank you,” Brodie mouthed from across the table.
Mary Jane barely nodded.
“Hmmph,” Bernie snorted. “There ain’t a one of them getting any younger.”
***
The emotions that ran through Brodie’s mind when Tripp reached out and snatched him away from the fierce tornado winds replayed through that evening when he shut his eyes.
He had gone back into the house to grab the ledgers Ira had left behind and was the last one running toward the shelter.
The memory made his hands tremble just like they did when he finally collapsed on one of the two wooden benches lining the sides of the cold concrete shelter.
His eyes snapped open to get away from that clear visual branded in his head.
He threw back the covers, got out of bed, and went out onto the balcony.
The night air was cool and stars dotted the sky, but even gazing at them brought him no relief.
He couldn’t stop his hands from shaking or get rid of the tightness in his chest. He stood just outside the doors for several minutes, looking out over the land and listening to the coyotes howling in the distance.
Finally, he sat down on one of the chairs and propped his bare feet on the railing.
“Mind if I join you?” Joe Clay opened the door from a couple of rooms down.
“Not at all,” Brodie answered. “You having trouble sleeping, too?”
“Yep, and when I do”—Joe Clay answered and held up a bottle of whiskey—“I bring this up here and look out over the land and my life. I didn’t bring glasses, but I’ll share.”
Brodie took it from him, tipped it up, swallowed once, and handed it back to Joe Clay. “That’s the good stuff. Smooth.” Strangely enough, it stilled his nerves, and breathing was easier.
Joe Clay pulled a chair over and sat down. “Still playing the events over in your mind?”
“Yes, and I’ve got to admit, fear of closing my eyes won’t let me sleep,” Brodie admitted, and told him about Tripp saving his life.
“When I saw the funnel was headed for your place, my heart nearly stopped,” Joe Clay said.
Brodie tried to imagine what it would be like for a thirty-year-old son to show up on a man’s doorstep at Christmas, get to know him a little by mid-March, and then stand by to watch a deadly tornado dropping down out of the sky and going right toward him.
Then he thought of his mother Jolene, and what she must have felt when she found out she was pregnant and was about to be a single mother.
“Will you tell me about you and Mother?” Brodie asked.
“There’s not a lot to tell,” Joe Clay answered.
“I was in the military and met her in a bar. She sat down beside me and bought me a drink since I was in uniform. We talked, and I bought the second and third rounds. I introduced myself, and she told me her name was Jolene. That was Friday night, and she had a room in a pretty fancy hotel. We both went our separate ways on Sunday. I can’t remember the name of the song we danced to about five times, but it was about a country boy who had a night with a rich lady who was used to diamonds and lace.
That was the underlying feeling I had all weekend.
She had come to the city looking for a good time, and we had just that. ”
“Did you ever see her again?” Brodie asked.
Joe Clay shook his head. “We agreed that when we walked out of that room, we’d never look back.
But that we wouldn’t have regrets either.
You look like I did at your age, but there’s something about your mannerisms that remind me of her.
Had I known that she was pregnant, I would have been a part of your life. ”
“She married my dad, John Callahan, when I was just a baby, and he adopted me,” Brodie said. “She had a rough time having me and was told she couldn’t have any more kids. Dad was a lawyer, and he had some connections somewhere. They adopted Tripp and Knox as newborn babies when I was only two.”
“I’m glad that you grew up with siblings,” Joe Clay said. “And like I’ve said before, I’m really happy that you found me, but I’m sorry that y’all lost your parents.”
“Me, too, on both issues,” Brodie said. “I knew that she’d given birth to me and that my brothers were adopted from the time we could all ask questions.
She told us about our biological parents just days before she died, but she didn’t tell me anything other than your name and that you had mentioned you were from Nocona, Texas. That’s all I knew about you.”
They sat in silence as they passed the whiskey back and forth a few more times.
“I grew up north of Nocona, went into the military right out of high school, and came home when I retired, but I wasn’t happy.
I was living in that little hotel east of town and thinking hard about reenlisting when Mary Jane knocked on my door.
I’d had a big crush on her in high school,” he said with a grin.
“She offered me a job remodeling this house and said I could have room and board. Sounded good until I found out she had seven daughters,” he chuckled.
“I almost quit, but she more or less dared me to stay. I didn’t even like kids, but those little girls stole my heart.
You want another swig of this before I go? ” He held up the whiskey bottle.
“I’m good, but thanks for telling me that much about your past.”
Joe Clay stood up. “You aren’t going to let the tornado make you sell out and leave, are you? I know that Audrey Tucker has been after you to let her buy the farm, but I don’t want you to leave this area. I’ve still got a lot of making up to you to do.”
Brodie shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere, and I don’t think Tripp and Knox want to leave either. They aren’t farmers, but they’ve sure been helping me a lot while they get their leather and carpentry businesses lined up.”
“I’ll help anyway I can,” Joe Clay said.
“You already have,” Brodie said, and watched him disappear down the balcony and into the room that he’d come out of a few minutes before.
Brodie had sown his wild oats in the military, and there had been more than a few one-night stands in his past. He couldn’t help but wonder if sometime in the future a child would show up on his doorstep.