chapter EIGHT
After helping Lorrie back in through her window, Curtis had come home, but he’d never gone to sleep. He’d spent the rest of the night mapping out what needed to happen for him to marry Lorrie. The actual getting hitched part was easy. It was everything else that had to be worked out.
He didn’t want to live with his alcoholic mother and his horde of brothers and sisters. That was no way for a married couple to start out their life together. Since he would be eighteen soon, he did have to think about what happened next. He could work on the ranch and help his mother that way, make enough to take care of Lorrie so that she could finish school. There was an old guesthouse on the property. Maybe he could fix it up, and they could stay there until he could buy her a house.
What if Lorrie didn’t want to live on the ranch? What if she wanted a house in town? His family had money, he knew that, but he didn’t actually have any of his own.
A knock on his bedroom door pulled him from his thoughts.
“What?” he hollered.
“Momma wants to talk to you,” Frank Jr. called out.
Curtis glanced at the window, seeing the golden rays shining in. Only then did he realize that the sun had come up. He took one last drag on his cigarette and then stamped it out in the ashtray. Getting to his feet, he tossed his pencil on the paper he hadn’t even written on and headed for the living room.
“In the kitchen,” Mary Elizabeth announced.
Curtis stepped into the kitchen to see Mr. Jameson sitting at the table across from his mother. Dread instantly settled in his gut. Nothing good could come from that man showing up at his house.
“Mr. Jameson came to tell me the news.”
“What news?”
“That you’re plannin’ to marry Lorrie,” she added.
Lorrie must’ve said something. That was the only way he would know, because Curtis hadn’t yet figured out how he was going to go over there and ask for the man’s permission. Not after yesterday.
As though reading his mind, Mr. Jameson said, “You didn’t think anyone heard you sneak her out her bedroom window?”
Fucking bastard. The man had eavesdropped on their conversation.
“Is it true?” Mary Elizabeth questioned.
“It’s true,” Curtis admitted, locking eyes with Mr. Jameson. “I plan to marry your daughter.”
Mr. Jameson shook his head. “I’m sorry, son. I just can’t let that happen.” His tone was cool and collected, the complete opposite from yesterday, when he’d driven his ass onto Curtis’s property and asked what his intentions were.
A rage unlike anything Curtis had ever known consumed him. For the first time in his life, he understood the hatred that had lived inside his father.
Sparing a glance at his mother, Curtis swallowed hard before facing off with Mr. Jameson once more. “You can’t stop me.”
“Curtis, she’s only fifteen,” Mary Elizabeth pleaded. “You can’t marry her without Mr. Jameson’s permission.”
Curtis cocked his head. “That’s strange. I had your permission yesterday.”
“That was yesterday. I’ve changed my mind.”
A vision of him with his hands wrapped around the old bastard’s neck blinded him momentarily.
“Unless…”
Through a cloudy red haze, Curtis focused on Mr. Jameson once more. “Unless what?”
From the corner of his eye, Curtis noticed Mary Elizabeth’s face fall, sadness consuming her.
Mr. Jameson looked at her. “It’s my understandin’ that the first of your sons to marry will inherit the Walker estate. Is that true?”
What?
The red haze intensified, and for the first time in his life, Curtis contemplated killing a man.
“It’s true,” Mary Elizabeth said, looking up at Curtis. “Curtis would inherit it all if he were to marry Lorrie.”
What the hell did that have to do with anything? He wasn’t going to marry Lorrie just so he’d get the Walker land. It was already his as far as he was concerned. And Gerald’s. And Joseph’s. And David’s. And Frank Jr’s.
Mr. Jameson was looking at him once more. “I’ll give you my permission to marry Lorrie provided you pay me a sum equivalent to her worth.”
Curtis’s fury consumed him, his hands fisted at his sides, and an involuntary growl tore up from his chest. This sorry, good-for-nothing bastard wanted Curtis to pay him?
“It’s only fair, son,” Mr. Jameson went on to say as though this was a completely rational conversation. “If she marries you, that’s one less set of hands I’ll have to help out at home.”
Not to mention one less mouth to feed, Curtis thought, but kept it to himself.
Bastard.
“And how much do you want?” Curtis dared to ask.
“Five thousand dollars,” Mr. Jameson said smoothly, as though he had this all planned out.
“Five thousand? Are you outta your fuckin’ mind?” That was more money than most people made in a year. Twice as much as what the folks in Granite Creek made.
“Is she not worth five thousand?” Mr. Jameson questioned.
“Lorrie’s worth more than any amount of money,” Curtis bellowed, angry that her own father could imply otherwise.
“Then I don’t see that we’ll have a problem.”
Oh, they had a big fucking problem.
Curtis looked at his mother. For the first time, he realized she was sober. And she was crying. He had no idea what she was distraught about. She had to know that he would always take care of her. But did they have that kind of money? He knew the ranch was worth a lot, but that wasn’t the same as cash.
When Mary Elizabeth looked up at him, her eyes were suddenly clear. She nodded her head once, a signal for him to agree to Mr. Jameson’s demands. The action shocked him, but he couldn’t bring himself to deal with that right now.
“Fine,” he told Mr. Jameson. “But I’m marryin’ her today. And if you do anything to stand in my way, you’ll never see a penny. Now see yourself outta my house.”
Mr. Jameson got to his feet. “I’ll expect the money before you marry her. And don’t think you can gyp me, boy. You pull a stunt, and you can bet your ass you’ll never see her again. I’ll send her away from here for as long as I have to. I’m sure there’ll be another ol’ boy willin’ to take her off my hands eventually.”
Curtis couldn’t stop himself. He grabbed the front of Mr. Jameson’s shirt, jerked him forward, then slammed him into the wall, getting right up in his face. The rage blinded him, but he managed to speak. “If I ever hear you disrespectin’ Lorrie again, I’ll put my fist through your face. I don’t give a good goddamn who you are. She ain’t a goddamn piece of property.”
Mr. Jameson’s eyes widened, a hint of fear swirling in the blue orbs, but he didn’t say anything, his breath rushing in and out of his lungs. It took every ounce of control Curtis possessed to keep from beating the man to a pulp.
“Five thousand,” Mr. Jameson snarled. “I’m takin’ you at your word.”
With barely restrained fury, Curtis managed to release Mr. Jameson’s shirt, then he took a step back and allowed him to pass.
“I’ll tell Lorrie to pack her things. That you’ll be comin’ for her today.”
That he would.
Even if he didn’t quite know how the hell he was going to tell her about this.
Or if he even should.
“Don’t leave,” Mary Elizabeth whispered when Curtis started to walk out of the room after hearing the front screen door slam.
Turning to his mother, Curtis tried to tamp down his anger. His mother wasn’t responsible for what happened and he didn’t want to take it out on her. He expected her to tell him to bring her a drink, or go check on the kids.
“Momma? Is everything okay?” Frank Jr. asked, peeking through the doorway.
“It’s fine, honey,” she assured him. “Now go on. I need to talk to your brother.
Frank Jr. nodded, then disappeared.
“Please sit down.” His mother motioned to the chair that Mr. Jameson had just vacated.
Taking a deep breath, Curtis sat down, pulling his cigarettes from his pocket. He lit one up and tossed the pack on the table, figuring his mother would need one, too. As he inhaled and exhaled slowly, he finally managed to calm down some. Mary Elizabeth pulled an envelope from her lap and set it on the table in front of her.
Bloodshot eyes lifted to meet his.
“I know your father wasn’t the nicest man in the world.”
That was an understatement. The man was a world-class bastard.
“But I loved him.” A sob tore from her chest and a tear trickled down her cheek. “I loved that man with all my heart.”
Curtis had never doubted that. His old man hadn’t been a people person, but the love Curtis had sensed between his mother and father had always been genuine.
“And he loved me, Curtis. And the most important thing was that I knew he loved me. He made sure I knew.”
Not sure what to say, Curtis took a drag on his cigarette and nodded.
Mary Elizabeth slid her hand over the envelope briefly.
“It’s hard without him here. Not because I need him to help with you kids or with the chores.” Mary Elizabeth shook her head. “I know I haven’t been the best mother lately. You’ve taken over everything since he passed. Just as I knew you would. I always knew I could depend on you to take care of us. There was never any doubt. I think your father knew it, too.”
Now that he didn’t believe.
“Mr. Jameson is right, though,” she told him, taking a deep breath. “We’d always tried to keep it quiet, but your father’s will outlines everything. The first of you boys to marry receives the land and the ranch.” A small smile tilted the corners of her mouth. “He always believed that love would win, Curtis. He was a hard man to live with, but he loved furiously. I think to the point he often didn’t know how to deal with it, how to express it appropriately.”
“I don’t wanna buy Lorrie,” Curtis blurted. “Not for no amount of money in return. I don’t care about the land or the ranch. She’s the only thing I need.”
“I understand that,” she said kindly. “And Lorrie understands that, too. There’s no way a girl can’t see the love in your eyes. It’s right there, Curtis. And since the day you started seein’ her, I knew she was the one for you.”
“Why would you agree to pay Mr. Jameson?” That was the one thing Curtis didn’t understand.
Mary Elizabeth passed the envelope over to him, her fingers trembling. He saw that his name was scrawled across the front in his father’s clumsy block letters. Curtis set his cigarette in the ashtray on the table and unwrapped the string that kept the envelope closed, then pulled out a single sheet of paper.
He glanced at his mother as he unfolded the paper, resting his forearms on the edge of the table.
Curtis,
I wish I could be there right now to see you reading this. I know that I’m not, because if I were, you would be hearing it directly from me, not reading the words on paper. Just know that I’m with you in spirit.
It has always been my wish that one of my boys would take what our ancestors have built with their own hands and continue to cultivate it and grow it for future generations of Walkers. Since you’re reading this, it means you’re the first of my boys who will marry, and the other letters I’ve written aren’t necessary. Truth is, I’ve always known that you would be the best choice, but still, I left the decision up to fate. It is my wish that the first of my sons to marry will inherit what we’ve worked so hard to build.
What you don’t know, and what most people don’t know, is that the ranch is only a small portion of what we own. There’s no doubt in my mind that you haven’t agreed with the way that I’ve raised you kids, but just like all children, you only see what you want to see. I purposely kept things from you, but know that I’ve never had ill intentions.
Granite Creek belongs to the Walkers. Every inch of it. From the land that our ranch sits on to the land that surrounds it. Everything. The school, the diner, the Gas n’ Go. Every tree, every flower, every patch of dirt. And though I’ve allowed people to use the land to build their businesses and to raise their families, some pay me a fee, others live on it for free, it still belongs to the Walkers. Therefore, on your wedding day, it is being passed down to you.
Curtis looked up at Mary Elizabeth to see her watching him. She must’ve read the question in his eyes, because she nodded. He turned his attention back to the letter.
I wish I could be there to see you marry the woman you will spend the rest of your days with. There is nothing better in this world than the love of a good woman. I was one of the lucky ones, the blessed ones. Even I can’t deny that I’ve been a far better husband than I have been a father. I would’ve gone to the ends of the earth for your mother, and sometimes I did. She’ll tell you if you ask. I’ve ensured that she will always be taken care of. She’ll never want for anything, and she knows that.
Now, son, a marriage requires a lot of work. It’s never one-sided and it never should be. The woman you choose to spend your life with holds your heart in her hands, and you trust her to do so. The opposite is also true. Take care of her, and in turn, she will take care of you.
I can’t say it enough. I wish I were there to see this day, but since I’m not, take these words of wisdom with you. Love furiously, son. It’s the only way to live.
Dad
When Curtis looked up at his mother, this time he saw more tears dripping down her cheeks. He felt his own tears welling in his eyes, a hot ball of emotion choking him. It felt as though his father were speaking to him from the grave.
“He loved you kids. All of you. He wasn’t the greatest at showing it, but that” — she nodded toward the letter — “is proof that he knew what love was.”
Curtis swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I love her,” he said.
“I know you do. And you’ll do as you said. You’ll give Mr. Jameson the five thousand dollars, and you’ll marry Lorrie. And you’ll move forward knowing that you own the land his house sits on. What you choose to do with that knowledge is up to you. Your father never flaunted it. Never wanted people to know. More importantly, he never wanted you kids to know. He believed in hard work. In earning what you want.”
That he had. And Curtis respected him more for it now.
His mother smiled. “And though people didn’t much care for him, what they didn’t know was that he always believed in giving back. The land that their houses and businesses sit on, the land that their children walk on to get to school, the land that their cattle graze on… It all belongs to the Walkers. And as with his father and his grandfather and all before them, no one flaunted it. Instead, they chose to do right by the town they’ve all called home.”
Curtis only wished they’d seen that side of him. But it appeared he’d only allowed one person to see it. The love of his life.
“I want you to be there,” he told his mother. “At the courthouse when we get married today.”
His mother smiled softly. “I wouldn’t miss it, Curtis. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”