Chapter 2
The news report about Pete Brandt’s death had resurrected a few old ghosts for Jacob, but he felt no compulsion to relive any of it. What was done was done a lifetime ago. All he remembered from that time was the heartache and betrayal, and having to tell his boys that she was never coming home.
To this day, he credited Asher for stepping into the gap. For giving up the carefree years that had still been ahead of him, to make sure his little brothers knew he had their backs, and that they mattered.
Back then, Asher’s high school sweetheart, Nora Borden, had been the anchor in his life. So, when Asher finally called, Jacob wasn’t surprised.
* * *
It was just after 8:00 p.m. and the Tumbleweed Bar was busy.
An impromptu pool tournament was ongoing, and a college football game between Texas A&M and Oklahoma State University was airing live on TV.
Between the crack of the balls, the cheers and jeers of the ones watching the game, and the customers coming and going, Jacob was in his element.
Jacob’s accountant, Lily Piper, a high school math teacher who moonlighted on the side as an accountant, had been by earlier to pick up last week’s receipts, and during a lull in the business, the subject of Pete Brandt’s death arose.
“Have you been bothered by any journalists?” she asked.
“Not really. A couple of random phone calls, but I just told them to get lost and hung up,” he said.
She shrugged. “I didn’t mean to pry, but I had to ask.”
“It’s fine. Everyone in Crossroads knows our story. It’s sure no secret, and thanks for the concern.”
Before he could say more, his phone rang. He started to let it go to voicemail, then saw Caller ID.
“Lily, it’s Ash. I need to take this,” he said and stepped into a hallway so he could hear a little better as she left the bar.
“Hey, son, what’s going on?” he said.
Ash chuckled. “Not nearly as much as what’s happening there. Lord! Can you hear me over the roar?”
Jacob laughed. “It’s Saturday night. College football and a snooker tournament I didn’t know was going to happen.”
“Ahhh, well that’s money in the bank, right?” Ash said.
“Yep. Is everything okay with you?”
“Yes, but I’m calling on behalf of your other sons, too. We assume you heard the news about Pete Brandt dying and all the media outlets digging up the gory details?”
“Yep. We all watched it together in the Tumbleweed, and then went back to business as usual,” Jacob said. “I’m fine. There’s nothing to talk about and nothing to dwell upon. Is Gunner okay with all that, though?”
Ash sighed. “You know Gunner. Hardcore to the max. If he’s bothered by anything, we’ll never know it. Don’t worry about him, Dad. He’s a big boy now. Just don’t be surprised if reporters come calling wanting to get a comment from you about Brandt’s demise.”
“I handled it before when it was messy as hell. This is nothing. Don’t worry about me, son. I’m good here.” Then there was a big roar back in the bar and Jacob sighed. “I gotta go. Texas A&M either scored, or they fumbled the ball. Love you. Thanks for calling.”
“Sure thing,” Ash said as the call ended.
* * *
A couple of days later, a news crew from an Amarillo TV station arrived at the Tumbleweed and made a beeline for the man at the bar. The reporter was a woman, and the man with her had a camera on his shoulder.
Jacob looked up, cursed beneath his breath, and three cowboys at the bar turned around, saw what was happening, and got off their stools and stood in front of Jacob, like bodyguards.
“We don’t reckon you’re welcome here,” they said.
“Move aside please,” the lady said, and nodded to the man beside her, and when he swung up the camera, Jacob stepped out from behind the bar, tossed a bar towel over the lens, and gently took the mic from her hands and shook his head without saying a word, then pointed at the door.
Out. Now. He mouthed.
She frowned. “But we just—”
The cowboys were already escorting the cameraman out of the door when Jacob interrupted.
“Lady, you’re gonna miss your ride home.” Then he slipped his hand in the crook of her elbow, walked her to the door, handed the mic back to her, and shut the door behind her.
The three cowboys stayed on the porch until the news van drove away, and then walked back into the bar like they were arriving anew.
“Thanks,” Jacob said.
They high-fived each other, and then Jacob.
“We got you, buddy.”
* * *
The Kingston family wasn’t the only family dealing with ghosts.
Nora Borden, Asher’s high school sweetheart, had just driven past the Tumbleweed Bar and the Yellow Rose Café with a lump in her throat.
Her father, Thomas Borden, had finally passed away from Alzheimer’s, and she’d come back to Crossroads to deal with the consequences of what to do with the family home.
It had been vacant ever since she’d moved her dad to a memory care facility in Fort Worth to be near her, and she hadn’t been back to Crossroads since. That was over two years ago. She was concerned about the condition of the house.
Coming back to Crossroads was like going back in time.
The same people, the same businesses were still here.
Nothing changed. If you didn’t own land and cattle or horses, you didn’t have a lot of options.
Crossroads hadn’t grown any bigger, but the plus side was that it was still as lively and vital as it always had been.
Good people lived here. And that was the blessing of the place.
But coming back resurrected all kinds of emotions for Nora, most of which were tied to Asher Kingston. He’d been her whole world through all four years of high school. But when they graduated, they both knew that their lives were going to go in different directions.
He wanted a life in some form of law enforcement, and she wanted to work in the field of technology.
They swore undying love to each other on their last night together and made promises to stay in touch.
They made love for the last time, and the next day he got on a bus bound for Austin, and her parents loaded her up and drove her to Dallas.
They faithfully texted and emailed each other for nearly a year, until the messages became less frequent and less intense, and time finally eroded the connection they’d once had.
After that, every time she’d come home to visit her parents, she never asked about him, because she didn’t want to know that he’d fallen for someone else and got married. She wouldn’t ask, and they never mentioned him.
Now here she was again, a thirty-one-year-old woman with a great job and a fancy apartment in Fort Worth, and nobody left to wonder or worry about where she was, or what she was doing.
Nora paused as she pulled into the driveway and parked beneath a leafless tree, reluctant to give up the comfort of the warm air from the heater on her feet. But there was no reward for putting off the inevitable, so she took a deep breath and killed the engine.
She knew the utilities were still on, because she’d paid the bills to keep them on. She’d called Pearl two weeks ago to ask who to call to get the place cleaned before her arrival.
Pearl quickly assured her not to worry, that she’d get someone in to do that for her, and she could pay Pearl back when she came home.
Nora was in tears, thanking her profusely, then immediately mailed a house key and sent a hundred dollars in advance via Venmo, with a note that if it wasn’t enough, she’d settle up with Pearl after her arrival.
Pearl called her the day the key arrived, and that the cleaning would be done before Nora came home, and now she was here, dreading the lingering ghosts within.
A blast of cold air sent a shiver up her spine as she got out and rounded her car to get the suitcases from the trunk, then rolled them up the steps to the front door. But there was still the business of getting inside out of the cold.
There were no tricks to getting in. No security system to disarm. No warm welcome waiting as she turned the key. She heard the lock click, then reached for the doorknob, and pushed the door inward before pulling the luggage in behind her and shutting out the cold.
The house was warm enough to keep the pipes from freezing, but it was an uncomfortable setting, so she turned up the thermostat as she went down the hall to her old bedroom.
Everything was so familiar, but the house had been empty for so long, it had lost the vibrancy of human energy.
She left the luggage by the bed to unpack later, and as she turned to leave, caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror on the back of her closet door.
Her long brown hair was tangled and windblown.
There were dark shadows beneath her eyes from the stress of the last few months of her father’s life, and she knew she’d lost weight.
Once he was put in hospice, the days of sitting by his bedside were excruciating.
When he finally fell into a coma, she never left his side.
Listening to him struggling for every breath had been hell.
He’d fought the inevitable for eighteen hours before he managed to exit this world.
But that was over, and she was here, standing in an empty house frowning at her reflection, which accomplished nothing, and left the room.
She needed to see what the pantry situation was like and check to see if the fridge needed to be cleared, then go to Belker’s supermarket.
It would be foolhardy to wait to stock up, then wake up tomorrow morning to bad weather.
Still, she took the time to walk through every room in the house, including the primary bedroom. Her father’s clothing had long since been removed when he moved with her to Fort Worth, but the faint scent of pipe tobacco was still there when she opened the door.