A Family for Thanksgiving. Patricia Davids

A Family for Thanksgiving - Patricia  Davids


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still hear Jesse’s voice raised in anger condemning Clay for ruining her reputation and for so much more unspoken between them. A condemnation Clay knew he deserved.

      He glanced at Tanner. The boy was still waiting for his advice. “Ask Mr. Dodd about hiring you on as a summer hand. If he and your folks say yes, then prove you’re reliable and willing to do the tough jobs. After a year or two of learning the ropes he might let you guide.”

      “My stepdad wants me to start working for him when I turn sixteen, but I’d rather be a cowboy.”

      Clay threw back his head and laughed. “Your dad owns the largest hotel-building company in Dallas. He’s worth millions of dollars. Go to work for him. It’ll pay a whole lot better.”

      Tanner managed a sheepish grin. “Will you be here next year?”

      “Will your folks leave the princess back at the castle?”

      “Not much chance of that.”

      “Then I may be looking for work elsewhere. Two weeks with that girl’s fits and tantrums was more than enough for me.”

      This had been his last trip of the season. Soon, the mountains and valleys would be covered in a snow blanket that would last until April. Hollister had already offered to let Clay stay on over the winter, but he hadn’t made up his mind yet. He’d been guiding here for three years, the longest he’d spent in one place since leaving home, but lately he’d been feeling restless again. Like it was time to move on.

      “Do you have kids?” Tanner asked.

      “Me?” Clay shook his head. “I’m not the settle-down-raise-a-family kind of guy. That’s my brother’s thing.”

      Why was it that his words didn’t carry the conviction he normally felt? Maybe it was because Tanner reminded him so much of Jesse, and Jesse had been on Clay’s mind a lot.

      He should have been there for Jesse when his wife died.

      Clay moved to the second horse waiting to be unsaddled. He hadn’t learned about Marie’s death until three weeks after the fact. The phone call from Maya back in July had missed Clay by two days. By then, he’d been deep in the Canadian wilderness with a hunting party and couldn’t be reached.

      He returned his sister’s call as soon as he got back to the lodge, but her home and cell phones had both been disconnected. Worried sick, he’d gritted his teeth and called Jesse to find out what was going on.

      It was the first time the brothers had spoken in seven years.

      Clay could still hear the hard, stilted tone of Jesse’s voice as he recounted how his wife had been killed during a tornado that touched down in the area.

      Thousands of miles away and weeks after her death, Clay hadn’t known what to say. His heart went out to Jesse, but he couldn’t find the words he needed to offer his brother comfort. It had always been that way between them. How could two sons of the same parents be so different?

      Clay had finally asked, “Do you want me to come home?”

      Oh, how he needed Jesse to say yes, but his tough-as-nails sibling replied, “Don’t rush back on my account. We’ve managed without you this long.”

      It didn’t take a genius to read between the lines. What Jesse meant was don’t come back at all. Jesse hadn’t forgiven Clay for his role in the death of their parents. The hurt went bone-deep.

      Clay had gone back into the wilderness with his next group of clients a few days later. Weeks after his call to Jesse, Clay learned about his sister’s marriage in much the same fashion. This time, there had been a letter waiting for him when he got back to the ranch.

      He would have liked to have been there for Maya’s big day, but it seemed that she and her new husband, Greg Garrison, were in a hurry so they could foster a six-year-old boy named Tommy Jacobs.

      Since Maya already had a three-year-old daughter, Clay realized he now had more relatives that he hadn’t met than ones he knew. Jesse had triplet daughters that were only a few months old, and he was raising them by himself. Jesse never did things the easy way.

      “High Plains, Kansas. Where is that?” Tanner asked. “My grandparents live in Wichita.”

      From behind them, Karen’s know-it-all voice cut in. “That’s where my class sent a big card on the first day of school. We all signed it.”

      “Oh, right,” Tanner replied. “The town that was almost wiped out by a tornado.”

      Clay glanced between the kids. “Are you sure you aren’t thinking of Greensburg?”

      Karen’s face scrunched into a scowl. She threw a handful of straw at Clay. “My teacher said High Plains!”

      “Karen, be nice,” Tanner chided.

      “You’re not the boss of me,” she shot back, making a face and sticking her tongue out at him.

      Tanner finished his horse and turned the animal loose in the stall. “She’s right. It was High Plains. It was all over the news for a couple of days. If Mr. Hollister will let us use his computer, I can show you the story on the Internet.”

      Karen rolled her eyes. “We could have used mine, but Dad wouldn’t let me bring my laptop. He said this was going to be a real old-fashioned vacation.”

      Clay gaped at her. “You have a laptop? Aren’t you in, what, the first grade?”

      She snatched up two more handfuls of straw to fling at him. “Second grade!”

      Karen’s brush with death hadn’t reduced her sassiness one bit.

      Tanner walked toward the barn door. “Ignore her. It works for me.”

      Fifteen minutes later, Clay was leaning over Tanner’s shoulder as he pulled up picture after picture of High Plains, shredded by a tornado. Hundred-year-old trees stripped bare, building and cars reduced to shattered jumbles of rubble.

      Why hadn’t Jesse or Maya told him about this?

      Because they think I don’t care.

      Maya had mentioned in her letter that the cleanup was continuing after the storm and that she and Greg were planning to hold a wedding reception in the Old Town Hall when repairs were finished, hopefully by Christmas. She’d also written to expect an invitation.

      Clay had no idea the damage to High Plains had been so severe. He couldn’t believe he had to find out what had happened to his hometown from strangers when he’d spoken to Jesse on the phone only weeks after the event.

      Clay had to acknowledge that he hadn’t exactly stayed on the line to chitchat with Jesse after learning about Marie’s death. Had Maya assumed Jesse filled Clay in on the details of the storm? She must have, or she would have tried contacting him again.

      With a sinking heart, he realized his silence all these months probably convinced her he didn’t care.

      Next, Tanner brought up a national news story about the storm’s aftermath. As shots of the devastation flashed by in a slide show, Clay stared at them in shock. He recognized the ruins as buildings in the downtown area. The town he knew was all but gone. Wiped out in a day.

      Suddenly, a familiar face flashed onto the screen. A second later another picture of a broken building replaced it.

      Clay gripped Tanner’s shoulder. “Stop. Go back.”

      Tanner did as he asked. Clay leaned closer to the monitor. Nicki stood in front of a pile of rubble with her arm around an old woman clinging to a broken umbrella. Nicki’s face glistened with tears.

      His heart ached for the look of loss in her eyes, but she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Time hadn’t changed that.

      He read the caption under the photo: “High Plains residents console each other near the ruins of their historic Old Town Hall.”

      Clay


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