Chapter 22

[Clay]

My night with Mavis is over too soon, but I’m hopeful we’ll have more evenings like last night. Dutton sleeping safely through the night in his bed; Mavis remaining in mine.

Waking up to her was exactly as I told her a few weeks ago. She’s a lovely sight to see first thing. Every new day, I want to open my eyes to the way she looks beside me in bed. Rumpled hair. A crease on her cheek from the pillows. And a sweet smile to greet me.

We didn’t have time to come together again as the day calls for work and Dutton’s schooling, but I leave her with promises.

“Tonight, butterfly.” There is no question. She’ll be here. I’ll be home. She’s coming to my bed again.

“Tonight, honey,” she whispers, her cheeks coloring as I lean in to kiss her there before heading out for the Seed & Soil.

As Judd did not appear at the family meal—he opted out of a few too many for my liking while the rest of us honor the day—I hoped to catch him first thing this morning. He often works from home although he has an office here, and he sneaks in on Mondays to gather whatever he might need to run reports and mind his charts. He’s a geek about spreadsheets.

Judd has also been dating Heather Remington, a local beauty queen and daughter to the owners of Remington Autos, a wealthy set of car dealerships in the area and he uses her as his excuse to miss weekly dinners. He’s been with Heather for a while now and hinted earlier this summer he might ask the woman to marry him.

No one in the family responded, each of us biting our cheeks to keep from voicing our unfavorable opinion. Heather’s personality is as superficial as her beauty. She’s narcissistic and has a need to show off her wealth and small-town prestige. If she proved she loved our brother to distraction, her flashiness and materialistic tendencies would not have bothered anyone half as much. However, we never see Judd and her interact. He doesn’t bring her around us. And from an outsider’s perspective, she’s everything opposite our sensitive, reserved, almost reclusive, brother.

Thankfully, I see Judd before he slinks out the back exit of the Seed & Soil. He’s dressed casually in dark jeans and a dark tee with a hip, crossbody computer bag over his chest.

“Come into my office.” I clap his shoulder.

“Why do I feel like I’m being summoned to see the principal?”

I chuckle, knowing that never happened to Judd. He was the least likely to cause trouble in school. Quiet kid, often flying under the radar. Good grades. Teachers liked him. Not a jock, not a druggie, never an issue. He was almost boring, if you didn’t know him like I do. Being directly below me in the birth order of our family, separated by two years, we were close despite his distance from the family.

Judd takes that silly extra desk chair in my office, wedging the bag strapped to his body beside him in the chair. I can’t seem to get rid of that seat, even when I try to pawn it off to others.

I take my own chair and swivel so I face my brother.

“You missed another dinner.” I lean forward and clasp my hands together, resting my elbows on my thighs.

Judd looks away. “Is that it?” He doesn’t want a lecture. Hell, he’s too old to have one, but I still want to know what’s going on with him.

“Let’s chat about Saturday night.”

While Judd had been sitting upright in the desk chair, he slouches into the seat and tips back his head, staring up at the ceiling. “Can we count my attendance at Halle and Knox’s as my weekly check-in?”

His tone is one I don’t recognize, almost petulant, definitely dismissive. I should be complimenting his arrival at Halle and Knox’s place. Should be thrilled he accepted the invite and showed. And I am, but I want to know a bit more.

“Explain that punch.”

Judd’s head tips up. His blue eyes aimed directly at me. “He insulted Dutton.” A hint of a growl mingles with his explanation. A fire dances in his eyes. Judd might understand better than anyone how much words can hurt, especially when the insults imply a young boy isn’t acting masculine. Or masculine enough for a small-minded dickhead. Our father had plenty of slurs for his son who cried easily and complained often about missing our mama.

Tears aren’t bringing her back, you baby .

Our mother was as gone as our father’s compassion.

“And I appreciate the defense of Dutton. But seriously, where did you learn to hit like that?”

Judd’s position the other night was next to me. One slip of that left hook and he would have gotten me in the side of the head instead of that jackass’s face. His aim was impeccable. The hit direct. A punch like that took practice and skill, not beginner’s luck.

Judd shrugs. “I took self-defense classes.” The corner of his mouth curls upward, reminding me of Sebastian.

“When?”

Judd’s expression falls, giving away that he’s trying to be cheeky. He hasn’t taken a class. He doesn’t need protection like that.

“A while back.” His eyes lock onto mine and for the first time I’m stunned by him, and it’s not his ability to hit someone.

“Why are you lying to me?” I lean back in my chair, setting my elbow on the arm rest and leaning my cheek against two fingers. Watching him, I’m trying to puzzle him out. What’s he thinking? What’s he been doing? Because there is a good chance, he isn’t going to tell me.

Judd turns his head, giving me his cheek, so I can’t see his eyes. He sits straighter in the chair. “So, I learned to fight. No big deal.” His tone isn’t as dismissive of the thought as he intends it to be. Instead, he’s quiet, uncomfortable.

“Why?” I might have understood when he was a kid. God knows, our dad provoked him enough, but Knox and Sebastian often got in the way to protect Judd from the violent stuff. Even when Judd was nearly a man and bigger than our dad, it didn’t stop the old man from going after Judd, often accusing him of looking too much like our mother. His hair was lighter than the rest of ours, like Vale’s and Mom’s. He had mannerisms like hers, like the way he tilts his head or the way he laughed, a sound he quickly learned to mask as a child.

“I just did.” With his elbows perched on the armrests at his sides, he continues to stare off toward the window in my office. His answer might be as good as I get.

“You okay?”

Judd turns his head, bringing those sad eyes back to me. He never seemed to recover from Mom’s death. Not like any of us had, but he just took the loss of her harder. There has been an emptiness in all of us that we’ve struggled to fill. Most would say our father stripped us down, making that void within us. But the hollowness started with our mother passing away too young, and those of us who remember her have a special place in our hearts reserved only for her memory.

“I’m good.”

He’s lying again but this is a fib I’ve heard for a long time.

“How’s Heather?”

Judd snorts, knowing I don’t actually care, I’m just being polite because I care about him, and I want her to treat him right. I also think he should be fair to her. If he doesn’t love her, he should let her go. The last thing he should do is ask her to marry him.

“Still getting hitched to the auto sales princess?” I tease. “Get it? Hitched. Autos.”

“Good one. You practicing up on your dad jokes?”

I purse my lips. “Never know.”

Judd arches a brow at that answer. “Something you want to share with the class, principal.”

“I’ll page you over the intercom when there’s something to announce.”

Judd chuckles. I don’t know that he knows what an intercom is, even if he is only two years younger than me.

“Now get out of my office,” I joke, shoving up from my seat at the same time as Judd stands from his. I open my arms, wordlessly demanding we embrace. He rolls his eyes like a child but hugs me hard.

“Good talk,” he mutters, pulling back fast but I catch his shoulder.

“And you’ll come talk to me if you need something, right?”

“Yes, Dad,” he groans.

“I think I like being called the principal better.”

Judd tips up his chin. “Yeah,” he mumbles before straightening the crossbody computer bag against his chest and leaving my office.

I collapse back into my chair and stare after his exit, hoping he really will be okay one day.

+ + +

As I’m crossing through the merchandise section of Sylver Seed & Soil, Perry nearly knocks me over, stepping into my path. We stare at one another for a hard minute. His mullet hairstyle is dated and a mess. Underneath his eyes are purple bags, like he hasn’t slept in days. His flannel is wrinkled and open, exposing a white t-shirt with a coffee stain on it.

Perry Foster and I became friends by default. When Stone first went off to college and I remained behind, I’d needed an occasional break from Dad. Like me, Perry took over his family’s business, renaming it Perry’s Towing. His farm property hosts an annual country music festival every June. Because we didn’t do the college thing, living in our small hometown while others our age left, we gravitated together, becoming tighter friends than we’d been before.

“I’m gonna need some time from you,” I tell him.

“Time.” He snorts. “That’s all you’ve taken since that woman came into town.”

I blink at his edgy tone. “Didn’t know you and me were dating, Perry?” I bitterly joke. “And that I owed you an explanation of where I’ve been.”

Perry and I spent plenty of time together, shooting the shit and drinking at Milton’s, especially on a Friday or Saturday night. He was good people, most days. And like me, he didn’t have a steady woman in his life.

“How’d you know that guy?” I tip my chin, implying the dickhead hanging out with him at Knox’s place. I’d been surprised to see Perry there. He didn’t live in town, so he wasn’t exactly a neighbor of Knox and Halle. He also wasn’t one to frequent family-centric parties, preferring the public, single scene of the local bars.

“Just met him at Milton’s.” Perry shrugs, glancing to the side a second. “He was asking around about Mavis and the kid. Told him I’d been invited to the party, and he could find them there.”

“What’s his name?” I snap, hoping I have something I can give Stone to follow up on.

“I can’t remember.” Perry lowers his head, eyes avoiding mine, his answer implying he was too drunk to remember. I’d like to hope he realizes how stupid his decision had been to invite someone he didn’t know to a community party.

“Why would you do that? Bring a stranger to a neighborhood affair, one with families and kids?” Why hadn’t he told me how he felt about us not spending time together, and then told me about some random guy inquiring about Mavis and Dutton?

Perry awkwardly looks left again, twisting his lips side to side, making his moustache wiggle. He might not be the brightest, but he wasn’t typically this reckless, careless, stupid.

“Where is the guy now?” I straighten, suddenly concerned for both Dutton and Mavis. Who was this guy? What did he want with them? What’s he doing here?

Perry shrugs again, hanging his head. “I haven’t seen him since the other night.”

I shake my head, so disappointed. Perry doesn’t have a mean streak in him, but this is kind of low for him. And I need him out of my space for a while, like I said.

“He’s only a little boy,” I remind Perry. “That a grown man nearly drowned in an apple barrel.”

Perry closes his eyes, hopefully realizing how bad things could have been. Picking up strange men to hang out with can be just as dangerous as picking up strange women for a night.

“I’ll call you, Perry,” I state, dismissing him, passing him with a stiff clap to his shoulder.

“But will you?” The question stills my retreat and I spin around, facing him once more. “You’re different with her.”

“That’s what a good woman can do for you.”

Perry scoffs. It’s not like either of us has avoided love, just didn’t think it was in the cards for either of us. Perry had his heart broken hard when we were younger and he’s hesitant about the emotion.

“You’re serious.” He stares at me, like he can’t believe what I’ve said.

“As a dead horse.”

Perry gasps, knowing I’d never be sacrilegious about an animal or wish ill-will on a living creature.

Another moment passes between us, staring at one another, maybe wondering who the other is anymore, before I mutter, “I’ve got to work.”

Perry nods, twisting a worn ballcap in his hand before replacing it on his head. “See you around, Clay.” Melancholy fills his tone. Unfortunately for him, he might not see much more of me if he keeps bringing strangers near Mavis and Dutton.

Once Perry leaves, I head to my office and call Stone. “We need to talk.”