Chapter 13 Cal
THIRTEEN
CAL
The thought of spending more time with Amy stuck with me throughout the day until I met up with Rafael at the Roundup—a local tavern—for beers and a burger.
As I walked in I was surprised to see Jake Thorne sitting with Rafael, but I didn’t mind getting better acquainted with my half brother.
Word had spread all over town that I was related to the Thorne clan, and I was sure people would take notice of us together.
If I was going to be sticking around for a month, I’d rather the town get all of their staring and gossiping out of their systems sooner rather than later.
“Come watch this,” Jake invited, when he caught sight of me. “The teacher’s getting all worked up.”
“If you hide the truth from kids,” Rafael gestured with the beer in his hand, “you’re not doing them any favors.”
“What truth is being hidden?” I settled in to hear the story, indicating to a server that I’d like a beer, too.
“The new American history textbooks came in this morning for my junior classes. I was flipping through the pages as I unboxed them. What I saw made me want to shove them back in and send them back to the company.” Rafael’s face was red with anger.
In most things, Rafael was as easygoing as they came—but he had a tendency to get worked up over history.
Especially when he felt like someone’s story wasn’t being told.
“What’s wrong with the books?” I had once seen a textbook printed upside down, but clearly this was worse.
“They completely gloss over the Colorado War.” Rafael slammed his beer onto the shiny surface of the table.
“The textbook writers declared it a brief moment in the US expansion,” he made air quotes around the phrase, “and skipped right over the fact that the US Army brutally attacked a defenseless camp of Cheyenne and Arapaho leading to the Sand Creek Massacre of 1864.”
I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. I went to school in Texas, and there was no way any of my history teachers would’ve covered it unless it was a major event during the Civil War.
“I’m sick and tired of the continual attempts to whitewash the behavior of the Union army out here in the west because history books would rather showcase the larger battles that took place between the Union and the Confederacy.
No one ever wants to talk about the systemic attempts to annihilate entire tribes all in the name of ‘manifest destiny.’” Rafael continued.
“The massacre caused the tribes to band together, and they began raiding towns and small communities in retaliation for the loss of so many lives. When they were finally stopped, rather than the US government providing any kind of restitution for all that was taken from them, they were kicked out of Colorado. Shameful behavior on behalf of the government. We can’t keep sweeping things like this under the rug. ”
“You do know you can’t cover everything, right? The whole point of hitting the highlights is to give students a broad education,” a guy sitting at the table next to us said.
“Josh, if you’re unwilling to side with my outrage, then you can mind your own damn business,” Rafael said with a scowl.
“Now, you know I can’t do that. Not when it’s so fun to see you all riled up,” this Josh said.
Jake tilted his glass toward the other table. “Cal, meet Josh Cafferty. He owns Lost Valley Ranch southwest of town. If you’ve seen any signs about trail rides, well, that’d be him. Josh, in case you’ve been living under a rock these last few days, this is my half brother, Cal.”
“My wife and sister mentioned the resemblance. Nice to meet you, Cal. Hope you enjoy your stay in our small town,” Josh said, lifting his beer in greeting.
The server dropped off a pitcher along with a frosted glass. “I know how these two drink,” she said with a wink. Rafael immediately reached for the pitcher to refill his glass. “See?”
“Josh is right. I have a vague memory of covering US history at Pop High and there was always a rush to cover the timeline. I seem to recall class breaking for the summer somewhere around the war in Grenada, so it wasn’t as if we covered all of it.
There’s no way any teacher can get to everything, so things have to get skipped,” Jake said.
Rafe choked on his beer and glared at Jake.
“Are you seriously claiming that it’s okay to leave out important events from US history? From Colorado history?” Rafe demanded, and Jake’s eyes danced with amusement.
“It’s one event, Rafe. Why does it matter?” Josh asked. He’d turned in his chair and he was barely hiding his grin behind his glass.
Rafe’s face was getting dangerously red, and I half expected steam to come out of his ears.
He’d always known his old mentor was passionate about US history and would often share stories of relatively events that took place in the towns where we’d competed.
Evidently, once he’d retired his reins and become a high school teacher, his enthusiasm for highlighting these historical events took on a much more impassioned note.
“If it bothers you that much, contact the textbook publisher,” Jake suggested as the server set down a basket of curly fries in front of us.
“I did that,” Rafael said practically growling. He reached for a handful of curly fries and stuffed them in his mouth, chewing so hard, his teeth clacked. “I sent them three emails, and they aren’t getting back to me.”
“Maybe they need some time to research before they respond,” I pointed out.
“They shouldn’t have to research Colorado history. The publisher is in Denver!” Rafael insisted. “They should know it.”
“As fun as this is, I’d best get home to Zoe.
Cal, it was nice to meet you. Hope to see you around before the rodeo,” Josh said and rose from his chair.
He reached across the table and snagged a couple of fries before clapping Rafe on the back.
“Go get ’em, tiger,” he added chuckling before tossing some bills on his table for the server.
I watched him leave while Rafe continued to complain. “History is important. It’s full of lessons that remain relevant, and we would be smart to heed it. And another thing…”
Rafael launched into a diatribe about history, and my mind started to drift as I drank my beer and half-listened.
I caught the gist of it enough to know that Rafael was saying the past affected the present in positive and negative ways.
That idea was similar to what had been going through my head when I’d talked to Amy earlier in the day.
But I was also thinking about her beautiful red hair and the way her laugh during the photography shoot had made the entire room light up.
“Cal, you paying attention?” Rafael’s voice made my head snap up, and I got a little taste of what my friend must be like as a teacher. No student better daydream in his class.
“You were talking about the importance of history,” I said, trying to focus again. “I agree. I’m sure the textbook company will get back to you soon.”
“They better not try to pacify me with some free book,” Rafael grumbled. “That’s what they always try to do.”
“So, you’ve done this before?” Jake asked and Rafael nodded so hard, it hurt my neck.
“Every. Damn. Time.”
“Have you thought about getting your books from a different publisher?” I suggested, but he shook his head.
“Wish I could, but they’re who the district deals with.”
“How about writing your own book? You could call it Rafael Alvarez’s Guide to Lesser Known Historical Events,” Jake said. Although I knew he was teasing, it also made sense, but Rafe was already shaking his head.
“Or just make it a special presentation or something.” I didn’t know what to call it but Rafe shifted gears and had actually started nodding his head.
“Like a module? I could assign them to work in teams and do presentations on some of the little-known historical events that shaped people’s lives.
Like Mace’s Hole and the Battle of Glorieta Pass.
” His whole face lit up, and I worried that we were in for another lecture, but thankfully, textbook talk got pushed aside when the server brought our burgers.
As we ate, our talk moved on to local ranching news and the upcoming rodeo.
The guys filled me in on some of the fundraisers they’d had since the lightning strike burned down the community center and surrounding area.
I wasn’t particularly surprised to find out that Amy had been behind most of them.
Of course she would be. From the little time I’d spent with her, it was obvious that working for the mayor’s office was more than just her job.
She genuinely cared about this town and the people who lived here.
A few people stopped by the table to meet me or greet Josh or Rafe, but mostly we were left alone. I listened more than I talked because my mind kept returning to Amy and Henry, their grief, and how much I wanted to put smiles on their faces.
What could I do to make Amy laugh more and shed some of her fear? I’d like to know the answer to that question.
“I didn’t order that, ma’am,” I said to the server when she set a glass of what looked like whiskey down on the table. Even though I’d walked here, I made it a point not to mix hard alcohol with beer. In fact, I was keeping myself to a two beer limit.
“It’s from her,” the server said and pointed across the bar to a pretty brunette perched on a stool.
She looked about my age and gave me a giant smile when she caught my eye.
“She wanted me to give you this, too.” The server handed me a napkin with a phone number scrawled across it and a little heart in the corner.
I should be flattered since she was the most attractive woman in the bar, but I couldn’t muster any enthusiasm for a hookup.
“Not your type?” Jake asked, his sharp eyes watching.
“Not really,” I said. Any other time, she might be, but not tonight. “I’m not interested.” I nodded to the woman as a thank you and turned back to Jake and Rafael.
“I’ve never seen her before, but she’s hot,” Jake said. “Must not be from around here.”
I shrugged, folded the napkin, and shoved it under the edge of my plate, which was a clear sign that I wasn’t taking it home with me.
“Hell, if you’re not going to go talk to her,” Jake said, “do you mind if I try to convince her she’s hitting on the wrong brother?”
“Have at it,” I said, pleased at being referred to as his brother. I wasn’t surprised when Jake grabbed the whiskey, downed it, then swaggered off toward the woman. “Kids.”
Rafael laughed. “It wasn’t that long ago when you’d have been off that seat and charming the lady before the ink dried on the napkin.”
“Grew up, I guess,” I said.
“Yeah. Sure.” Rafael wasn’t convinced. “You seeing someone?”
“No.” And yet, my thoughts immediately went to Amy.
Rafael finished his beer before pinning me with a serious look. “You hung up on a woman, then?”
“Is it so weird that I didn’t run across the bar and kiss that woman?” I glanced to where Jake was flirting with the brunette.
“Yes.” Rafael waited for me. My former rodeo mentor knew how to use silence to get what he wanted, but it gave me time to think as well.
Obviously, Amy was off-limits. She had to be.
She still wore her wedding band, which meant she wasn’t ready to move on.
And she was the definition of “rooted in a small town.” Of course, the biggest obstacle standing in my way was that she’d given me no clear indication that she was into me.
Still, that laugh…damn. It got to a man.
I wasn’t willing to say all that to my buddy, but I could ask a question or two. “What do you know about Luke Thorne’s marriage to Amy?”
Rafael raised an eyebrow but answered. “Nothing firsthand. I only knew Luke himself in passing. We were far enough apart in age that he was just a kid when I went off to join the rodeo, and we had no reason to stay in touch. And then I came home to Poplar Springs a few weeks before Luke was killed. From what I’ve heard, they were the perfect couple. ”
“That’s what everyone says.” It bothered me to hear it confirmed again. “If I stuck around here, do you think people would get over my resemblance to him?”
“You thinking of staying?” Rafael asked.
“I’m being hypothetical.” I wanted to make that clear. I didn’t need my friend pressuring me to take up residence in Poplar Springs. I had no intention of settling in a small town.
“All right, if we’re talking hypotheticals, I think folks would eventually get over it,” Rafael said. “After all, you’re not identical and your personalities aren’t the same either. People would eventually see you for you and get over the past.”
“That’s what I thought,” I said, feeling relieved that my friend agreed with me.
“Unless,” Rafael added, drawing out a long pause, “they don’t want to get over the past. That happens, too.
I’ve seen it when my students’ parents get divorced.
Every now and then, a parent will start lashing out or even grow distant from a kid because the kid reminds them of their ex.
The weird thing is that it doesn’t even have to be about the kid physically looking like the ex. ”
“Then what is it?” I tried to understand what my friend was saying.
“My opinion? It’s about the person being unwilling or unable to move past their old pain and focus on the person who’s actually standing in front of them.
It sucks when that happens. And it breaks the kid’s heart, but some folks are just stuck in the past, and there’s nothing anyone can do to bring them out of it. ”
“How many psychology classes did it take you to come up with that?” I couldn’t resist the tease and Rafe snorted in reply.
“Too many, Cal, but it’s also true.”
It made me wonder. Was Amy so mired in the past that she could never get over it?
She seemed to appreciate me for who I was, but I could be misjudging our connection.
If things progressed between us, would she see me as a sort of stand-in for her dead husband?
That was a sobering thought, especially since I saw the possibility of something vibrant and alive between us.
I wasn’t sure I would act on that possibility, wasn’t sure it would be smart to—but the possibility still existed, and damn if I wasn’t curious enough to want to find out where it could lead.