36. Stirring the Pot

CHAPTER 36

Stirring the Pot

CALEB

A s I strummed the final chord, the music faded away, leaving a sense of satisfaction hanging in the air. I couldn't help but grin at Sarah and Mark, feeling like we'd just traveled back in time to our high school days.

"Damn, we've still got it," I said, wiping the sweat from my brow.

Sarah laughed, setting her bass down. "Speak for yourself, cowboy. My fingers are killing me."

"Oh, come on," Mark chimed in, twirling his drumsticks. "You loved every minute of it, Sarah. Don't even try to deny it."

I nodded in agreement, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. God, I'd missed this. The easy banter, the rush of creating music together. It felt like coming home.

But there was still something missing. Or rather, someone.

"Man, Liam would've loved this," I said, my voice softening at the thought of him.

Sarah and Mark exchanged a knowing look. "He'll be back soon, Caleb," Sarah said, reaching out to squeeze my arm. "And when he hears what we've been working on, he's gonna flip."

I nodded, trying to push down the ache in my chest. "Yeah, I know. It's just weird without him, you know? "

Mark snorted. "Weird? Try impossible. Remember when we tried to replace him for that one gig ?"

I groaned at the memory. "God, don't remind me. That was a disaster."

We all laughed, the sound echoing through the barn. It felt good, like old times.

Just then, the barn door swung open, and my mom walked in, carrying a tray of drinks. "Thought you kids might be thirsty," she called out, her eyes twinkling.

"Mom, we're in our thirties," I said, rolling my eyes even as I reached for a glass of lemonade. "Pretty sure we don't count as ‘kids' anymore."

She waved her hand dismissively. "You'll always be kids to me. Now, drink up. You all look like you've been working hard."

As we gathered around, gulping down the cool lemonade, I couldn't help but feel grateful. For my mom, for my friends, for this moment.

"Alright, I think that's enough for today," I said, setting down my empty glass. "We've only got a couple days left before the fundraiser, and there's still a ton to do."

Sarah nodded, stretching her arms above her head. "Yeah, we should probably start setting up the ranch. Want some help?"

I raised an eyebrow, surprised by the offer. "You guys sure? Don't you have your own stuff to deal with?"

Mark shrugged. "Nah, we're good. Besides, this is important. To all of us."

"Thanks, guys," I managed, my voice a little rough.

My mom, who had been quietly listening, spoke up. "Oh, before I forget, Caleb. We're running low on supplies for the fundraiser. Think you could make a run into town?"

I nodded, grateful for the distraction. "Sure thing, Mom. What do we need?"

As she rattled off a list, I turned to Sarah and Mark. "You two okay helping out around here while I'm gone? "

Sarah grinned, throwing an arm around Mark's shoulders. "Please. We've got this. Right, Marky?"

Mark rolled his eyes at the nickname but nodded. "Yeah, we'll be fine. Go on, get out of here."

I chuckled, grabbing my keys. "Alright, alright. I'm going. Try not to burn the place down while I'm gone, yeah?"

Before climbing into his truck, I remembered the posters Jimmy had designed. They could use all the help they could get, and the town's high street seemed like a good place to start.

"Might as well put these up while I'm out," I said to myself grabbing the stack from the passenger seat.

The drive to Main Street was short, giving me little time to prepare for the potential scrutiny I might face. As I parked and stepped out, I could feel curious eyes on me. It had been a while since I'd ventured into town for anything other than supplies.

Spotting the community pin board, I made my way over. It was plastered with flyers for bake sales, lost pets, and the occasional yard sale. Nothing for the coming weekend, though.

Perfect, I thought, pulling out a poster and some tacks.

As I pinned up the first one, I heard snickering behind me. My shoulders tensed, but I kept working. Maybe if I ignored them, they'd go away.

No such luck.

"Well, well, well," a familiar voice drawled. "Look what we have here, Paul. The prodigal son, gracing us with his presence."

I turned slowly, coming face to face with the Marley brothers. Rio, the older one, had a mean glint in his eye that I remembered all too well from high school.

"Rio. Paul," I nodded, keeping my voice neutral. "Something I can help you with?"

Rio's eyes flicked to the poster, his lip curling. "You think people would actually come to something like that?"

I raised an eyebrow, feigning confusion. "Something like what?"

Paul, the younger Marley, stepped forward. At thirty-three, he was still trying to emulate his brother's swagger. "Something that's associated with a queer. You know, like you."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. For a moment, I was seventeen again, scared and alone. But then I remembered Liam's smile, the warmth of his hand. I wasn't that scared kid anymore.

I took a deep breath, squaring my shoulders. "You know what, Paul? Yeah, I do think people will come. Because unlike you two, most folks in this town have grown up since high school."

Rio's eyes narrowed. "Watch your mouth, Winchester. You might not like what happens if you don't."

"Is that a threat?" I asked, my voice dangerously calm. Inside, my heart was racing, but I'd be damned if I let these two see it. "Because I gotta say, it's not a very good one. What are you gonna do, Rio? Beat me up? Call me names? Hate to break it to you, but I've heard it all before."

Paul took a step forward, but Rio held him back. "You think you're so tough now, huh? Just because you've got your little fairy boyfriend back in town?"

I felt a surge of anger, hot and fierce. My fists clenched at my sides, itching to connect with Rio's smug face. But I forced myself to stay calm. Violence wouldn't solve anything. It never had.

"If you've got a problem with that, well, that's your issue to deal with, not mine," I said, my voice steady. I turned back to the board, pinning up another poster. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do."

I could feel the tension in the air, thick as molasses. The Marley brothers weren't known for backing down easy, and my skin prickled with the anticipation of a fight. From the corner of my eye, I saw Rio's fist clench, muscles tensing as he prepared to throw a punch.

Shit, I thought, my own body instinctively shifting into a defensive stance. This is gonna hurt. But before either Marley could make a move, a familiar voice cut through the tension like a knife .

"Alright, boys. That's enough."

Jake seemed to materialize out of nowhere. His hand was already on Rio's shoulder, firm but not quite forceful. Yet.

"Sheriff," Rio spat, trying to shrug off Jake's grip. "This ain't your business."

Jake's eyebrows shot up, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Two grown men about to assault someone in broad daylight? Pretty sure that's exactly my business, Rio."

Paul, never the brighter of the two, decided to chime in. "We weren't doin' nothin'. Just having a friendly chat with Winchester here."

"Oh yeah?" Jake's eyes flickered to me, then back to the brothers. "Looked real friendly from where I was standing. So friendly, in fact, that I think you boys ought to come down to the station with me. We can have our own little chat."

I felt a wave of relief wash over me, quickly followed by a twinge of something. Gratitude? Confusion?

"Thanks, Jake," I said, surprised by the sincerity in my own voice.

Jake nodded, but before he could respond, Rio's face twisted into an ugly sneer.

"Well, would you look at that," he drawled. "You like queers now too, Webster? What, you and Winchester here got something going on the side?"

For a split second, I saw a flash of the old Jake - the bully, the tormentor. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by a cold, professional mask.

"That's it," Jake said, his voice eerily calm as he pulled out his handcuffs. "You're both under arrest for attempted assault and hate speech." Jake turned to him and said "I'll be right back, I'll just put these two in the patrol car."

I nodded, watching as Jake loaded the Marleys into the back of his car. I could hear their muffled protests even from here.

A few minutes later, Jake returned, his face unreadable. "You alright? "

I shrugged, aiming for nonchalant but probably missing by a mile. "Yeah, fine. Nothing I haven't dealt with before."

Jake's eyes narrowed slightly. "Maybe. But that doesn't make it okay."

There was an awkward pause, years of unspoken history hanging between us. I scratched the back of my neck, unsure what to say. "Look, Jake, I appreciate you stepping in, but-"

"But nothing," Jake cut me off. "It's my job. And it's the least I can do. After everything." Jake cleared his throat, gesturing to the poster on the community board. "So, uh, what's this about a fundraiser?"

For a moment, I considered lying. It would be easier, safer. But what was the point? If Jake really wanted to know, he'd find out anyway. And hadn't he just proven himself by arresting the Marleys?

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "It's for the ranch," I admitted. "We're… well, we're in a bit of trouble. Financially."

Jake's eyebrows shot up. "Seriously? I had no idea."

"Yeah, well, it's not exactly something we've been advertising," I said with a wry smile. "But we're hoping this fundraiser might help turn things around."

Jake nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. "That's rough, man. I'm sorry to hear it." He paused, then added, "You know, if you need any help with security or anything for the event, just let me know. I can arrange for a deputy to be there, keep an eye on things."

I felt a lump form in my throat. This was more than I'd ever expected from Jake. "Thanks," I managed.

Jake shrugged, looking a bit uncomfortable with the gratitude. "It's nothing. Least I can do, really." He hesitated, then added, "I'll try to spread the word about the fundraiser. Can't make any promises,."

"No, yeah, of course," I said quickly. "Anything you can do would be great."

There was another awkward pause, neither of us quite sure how to end the conversation. Finally, Jake cleared his throat. "Well, I should probably get those two back to the station. You sure you're okay here?"

I nodded, managing a small smile. "Yeah, I'm good. Thanks again, Jake. Really."

Jake gave me a nod and turned to leave, but then paused. "Hey, Caleb?"

"Yeah?"

Jake seemed to struggle with his words for a moment. "I know I've said it before, but… I'm sorry. For everything. Back in school, I mean. I was a real asshole."

I felt a wave of emotions wash over me - surprise, confusion, a lingering hint of anger, but also understanding. Maybe even the beginnings of forgiveness. "Water under the bridge, man," I said softly.

Jake's shoulders seemed to relax slightly. He glanced back at his patrol car, where the Marley brothers were still fuming. "Some of us are still figuring it out, I guess."

As Jake walked away, I found myself lost in thought. So much had changed, yet in some ways, Oakwood Grove was still the same small town it had always been. For better or worse.

I turned back to the community board, pinning up the last of my posters. Then I pulled out my phone, scrolling through the list my mom had sent. Seemed like half the ranch was coming to this fundraiser, and we'd need supplies. A lot of supplies.

"Alright, let's see what we've got here," I mumbled, scanning the list. "Paper plates, cups, napkins… Jesus, how many people are we expecting?"

The local supermarket wasn't far, just a quick drive down the main road. As I pulled into the parking lot, I couldn't help but notice how busy it was for a weekday afternoon.

"Great," I sighed, steeling myself for the crowd. "Just what I needed. More people."

Despite my grumbling, I managed to navigate the aisles with relative ease. I'd grown up in this town, after all. I knew the layout of this store like the back of my hand.

As I loaded up my cart, I found my mind wandering back to Liam. I wondered how he was doing in New York, dealing with his parents and that big tech deal. A familiar ache settled in my chest, the kind that only seemed to ease when Liam was around.

By the time I made it to the checkout, my cart was overflowing. The cashier, a young girl I vaguely recognized from around town, raised an eyebrow at the haul.

"Big party?" she asked, starting to scan the items.

I managed a smile. "Something like that. Fundraiser for the ranch."

The girl's eyes lit up. "Oh yeah! I saw the posters in town. Sounds like it's gonna be a big deal."

"Here's hoping," I said, surprised by the genuine enthusiasm in her voice. "You planning on coming?"

She nodded eagerly. "Wouldn't miss it. My dad's been talking about it non-stop since he heard. Says it's about time someone stood up to those big city banks."

I blinked, taken aback. I hadn't realized news of our financial troubles had spread so far. But before I could respond, the girl was handing me my receipt.

"Good luck with everything," she said with a smile. "See you at the fundraiser!"

As I loaded the supplies into my truck, I couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted. The town was rallying behind us in a way I never would have expected. It was… nice. Weird, but nice.

Just as I was about to climb into the driver's seat, my phone buzzed in my pocket. Unknown number. I frowned, debating whether to answer. Could be someone calling about the fundraiser…

"Ah, what the hell," I muttered, swiping to accept the call. "Hello? "

"Mr. Winchester?" a familiar voice came through the speaker. "This is Elijah Greene from the bank."

I felt my stomach drop. The bank never called with good news. "Mr. Greene," I said, keeping my voice steady. "What can I do for you? Is there a problem?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line, long enough to make my palms start to sweat. Finally, Elijah spoke. "I'm afraid I have some unfortunate news, Mr. Winchester."

I leaned against my truck, bracing myself. "Alright, let's hear it."

"The bank has decided to adjust the terms of your loan," Elijah said, his voice carefully neutral. "Specifically, the repayment deadline."

My grip tightened on my phone. "Adjust how, exactly?"

Another pause. I could almost hear Elijah squirming on the other end of the line. "They've decided to move up the deadline. You now have until midnight on Sunday to repay the loan in full."

The words hit me like a physical blow. I felt the air leave my lungs, my vision blurring at the edges. "Sunday?" I managed to choke out. "That's impossible. The fundraiser isn't until the weekend. We can't possibly-"

"I understand this puts you in a difficult position," Elijah cut in, his voice softening slightly. "Believe me, Mr. Winchester, if it were up to me, but I'm just the messenger here. The decision came from higher up."

I ran a hand through my hair, my mind racing. This couldn't be happening. Not now, not when we were so close. "There has to be something we can do," I said, hating the desperation in my voice. "An extension, anything. We just need a few more days."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Winchester," Elijah said, and he did sound genuinely apologetic. "But the decision is final."

He didn't need to finish the sentence. I knew what it meant. We'd lose everything. The ranch, our home, generations of Winchester history gone .

"Right," I said, my voice hollow. "Thanks for letting me know, Mr. Greene."

I hung up before Elijah could respond, letting my phone drop to my side. For a long moment, I just stood there, leaning against my truck, trying to process what had just happened.

How was I going to tell my parents? How was I going to tell Liam? God, Liam. He was in New York, busting his ass to help us, and now…

"Fuck!" I shouted, slamming my fist against the side of my truck. The pain barely registered through the haze of panic and anger swirling in my mind.

A few people in the parking lot turned to look, but I couldn't bring myself to care. Let them stare. Let them whisper. None of it mattered now.