by Lynda J. Cox
“If everyone’s math is correct, I was with Darby for almost two years.” Drake extracted himself from Jessie’s hold, walked to the sideboard and poured himself a drink. He downed it before he continued, “And, it was April or May of sixty-seven when Royce and Kathy took me in. The real problem I see here is that I don’t remember anything before Darby.”
“Are you going to take Drake from us?” Jessie turned to A.J. and Allison.
Allison felt some of the stiffness drain from A.J. “He’s a man grown and if he’s anything like me—begging your pardon, ma’am—it takes a hell of a lot to make him do anything he doesn’t want to.”
“Can you prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that Drake is your brother, Mr. Adams?” Majors hadn’t given an inch of ground.
“If he is my brother, he’s got a long scar running down the inside of his right forearm where he got caught under a downed pine tree when he was catching catfish bare-handed. He was about six and I was at Clayborne on leave. He decided that because I hadn’t been home in almost a year, we should have fresh fish for supper. When he wasn’t back by dark, I went looking and found him in the creek. We had to get the doctor out to Clayborne to stitch his arm up.”
While A.J. spoke, Allison watched Drake. He paled and glanced involuntarily at his right forearm. Even though he didn’t push his sleeve up, Allison knew the scar was there, exactly as A.J. had described it.
“Cathy…” Drake murmured.
Every head in the room turned to him. “Your wife…her name is Cathy…just like Royce’s wife was named Kathy. That’s why it felt so right when she told me to call her by her given name.” He lifted his head and cobalt eyes the same color as A.J.’s narrowed. “There was a pond behind the house and down in a gully. I had to shimmy down a steep side to get there and you were always yelling at me not to go by myself when I was little. You said I could go to the creek but not the pond. And the name of the creek…it was…it was…Straight Creek.”
A.J. nodded. “You almost drowned in that pond when you were four. I didn’t know whether to blister your bottom for being down there alone or give thanks to God we found you before you drowned.”
“And, there was a split rail fence along the road in the front of the house…” Drake staggered a step back. “My room was on the second floor, over the kitchen. When I asked you why over the kitchen, you said it was closer to the food and that it was warmer in the winter.”
“I did.”
Drake continued, “When we built the house here, and Royce asked me what room I wanted, I told him I wanted the bedroom over the kitchen for those reasons.”
Royce crossed the room and collapsed into the leather couch on the opposite side from Harrison. Allison felt a twinge of pity for the man. There was no doubt he cared deeply for the young man he had raised. Jessie drifted closer to Drake, and slipped her hand into his.
He lowered his gaze, staring at the floor. “Carrie and Aimee…and…Cathy.” He suddenly looked up, locking onto Allison. “You’re not Cathy.”
Allison said, “No. She died some time ago.” A.J.’s hand tightened on hers in a quick squeeze, a silent thank you.
“That’s why when Darby said those things about my mother, and I couldn’t remember her, I couldn’t say if it was true or not. My mother…our mother died when I still a baby and you and Cathy were raising me. And, then you went off to the war. You were a Confederate.” Drake shook his head, as if trying to clear his vision. Without warning, the crystal tumbler dropped from his hand.
Royce and Harrison shot up from the couch, but A.J. reached him first. He caught Drake’s upper arms. Allison stepped in front of Royce Majors. She put a hand on his chest, even as Harrison caught Royce’s arm to stop him. “You’ve had Drake since he was nine or ten, Mr. Majors. He’s A.J.’s brother. Let him have his brother back.”
Majors seemed to shrink and he nodded. He stepped back, away from the two Adams men. Jessie placed a small hand on Drake’s shoulder and Allison joined A.J. Like Jessie, she put a comforting hand on her man’s shoulder.
Drake further crumbled into the side board. He lifted a face lined with pain. “I’m sorry. I tried to protect them. You told me when you left the last time I had to be the man of the family and take care of them. There were just too many of them, A.J.”
“Who were they, Drake?” There was no urgency in his voice, only a gentle coaxing.
“Darby, for sure.” Drake’s breath caught. “They shot them. Cathy…and Carrie…and…oh God…Aimee. Why Aimee? She was only three. Why’d they shoot them?” His features tightened. “Darby was there. And Jason Taylor…”
The quick intake of breath from across the room came from Rachel. Harrison muttered, “Why does that not surprise me?”
“It was Jason Taylor,” Drake repeated, dragging his gaze up to Harrison. “You and Jason and your family lived about two miles down the road at Twin Creeks.”
Harrison nodded. “Yes, we did, and I’m not surprised that Jason was involved in something like this.”
Drake extracted himself from his brother’s hold and pushed himself erect.
A.J. asked, “Can you remember who else was there that night?”
Allison slipped her arm around A.J.’s waist and he turned into her, his arm wrapping around her shoulders.
Drake shut his eyes. “He wore a Union officer’s coat. Tall, very thin, spectacles…and he said something that night that I didn’t understand and still don’t, now that I remember it. He said that I was as stubborn and as much of a damned fool as my brother but that even the strongest break over time.” Drake opened his eyes and looked at his brother. “What was he talking about?”
“If the man you remember as there that night is the same man Joseph told me it was…”
“Joseph was alive when you got home?”
A.J. nodded.
“Thank God. They left him for dead. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. What was that man talking about?” Drake bent and picked up the forgotten crystal glass. “Excuse me. I need to refill this.”
A.J. said, “Pour out several, Drake. I think right now, everyone could use a drink. As to who that man was and what he was talking about, the answer is fairly simple. He was the commander of the prisoner of war camp I was sent to. We didn’t see eye to eye on a lot of things. Not the smartest move on my part to continually point out where we didn’t agree, I admit, especially not when he held absolute authority.”
Drake poured a drink and handed it to his brother. The same devilish twinkle Allison had seen often in A.J.’s eyes began to glitter in Drake’s. “How often did you beard the lion?”
“Every chance I had. Paid for it every single time and still went and did it again.”
“Must be a family trait.” Drake lifted his glass. “To bearding lions.”
A.J. touched glasses.
A grizzled man wearing an apron stuck his head into the parlor. “Miz Taylor, any time you’re ready, supper is done. Them kids are already tucked into bed. Luke made sure Josh knows he’s gotta stay there, and he read Miss Kyla her bedtime story.”
“Thank you, Cookie.” Rachel crossed the room and snagged Allison and Jessie’s arms in hers. “Harrison can show the men to the dining room.”
During supper, Allison was certain A.J. was doing his best to drive her insane. Throughout the whole meal, his knee pressed into hers. Between courses, he draped an arm across her back, his hand slipping casually up the length of her neck.
Halfway through the main course, Drake asked, “Whatever happened to Clayborne?”
A.J. set his fork down. “I was made an offer that I accepted for the place about two years ago. At the time, I couldn’t afford to repair our home and by selling it, I knew that Cathy, Carrie, and Aimee’s final resting place would be safe. Clayborne is now part of Twin Creeks.”
“So you sold Clayborne to Jason Taylor, Sr.?” The longer the evening wore on, it seemed the more that Drake remembered.
“No, the actual owner listed is
Twin Creeks,” Harrison said, breaking into the conversation. “Twin Creeks is a limited partnership. My father and I are silent partners and it’s held in trust for Joshua.”
Every head at the table turned to Harrison. He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I stopped by Clayborne when I went to Kentucky to tell my father that Jason was dead. He told me the house was literally falling down and that the property was for sale, so I wired him the money to make an offer. I always assumed it was Beth’s husband who was selling Clayborne.”
“You made a hell of an offer. It was twice what I told Tom Newlin to ask for,” A.J. said. “I gave half of that sale to Tom to hold in trust for Carrie and Beth’s children…”
“I have nieces and nephews?” Drake interrupted.
A.J. nodded. “Actually, you have two nieces and three nephews. Beth and Rob have a boy and a girl and Carrie and Seth have a girl and two boys. As I was saying, half of what I sold Clayborne for is held in trust because if Seth got his hands on it, he’d drink it away in a matter of months.” He looked at Harrison. “Why did you buy Clayborne?”
Harrison looked down at the table for a moment. “I couldn’t let it go. For the same reason I kept Twin Creeks off the auction block when Jason couldn’t pay the back taxes and the mortgage, I couldn’t let Clayborne go to strangers. My cousin and her daughters—my friend’s wife and daughters—are buried there, just as my mother and Patrick and Aaron are buried at Twin Creeks.”
A.J. slowly reared back in the chair. “Patrick and Aaron? When?”
“December of sixty-four at Nashville.”
“I’m sorry. They were good men.”
Allison caught A.J.’s hand under the table. Harrison offered up a smile. “They had a few other choice words for the two of us, as I recall.”
A.J. grinned. “They saw the two of us as nothing more than a couple of incorrigible brats. Of course, putting stinging nettle into their underclothes didn’t endear either of us to them.”
Harrison began to laugh. “I’d forgotten that. They were strutting around Sarah’s debutante ball like peacocks, until their undergarments began to itch. And, if I remember rightly, that was also the night you told me you were going to marry Cathy.” He suddenly stopped and looked at Allison. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned that.”
Allison twisted her empty coffee cup in its saucer. “It’s all right, Mr. Taylor. A.J.’s told me about that night. He said you were less than impressed with your cousin.”
“Mr. Adams, may I ask you a question?” Jessie spoke up, veering the conversation away from A.J.’s dead wife.
“Ask what you wish, Miss Majors,” A.J. said. “I will just retain the right not to answer.”
“Of course, sir.” Jessie toyed with the desert fork next to her plate. “What was your rank in the Confederate forces?”
“Major, with the 1st Kentucky Cavalry.”
“Marshal Taylor said you were at Elmira. I thought officers went to Johnson’s Island. Why were you at Elmira?”
“Jessica Katherine Majors!” Royce stared at his daughter, as if mortified. “Good heavens, under almost any circumstance, that isn’t conversation for polite society, and certainly not at the supper table.”
Harrison visibly tensed, as if expecting a body blow. Allison gripped A.J.’s hand more tightly. He glanced down at her and the devilment dancing in his eyes made her whisper, “Truce, remember? Peace between the Blue and the Gray?”
A.J. quirked a brow up and Allison repeated, “Truce.”
“Yes, Mrs. Adams…a truce.” He turned to Jessie. “Miss Majors, I was at Elmira because a Union officer decided that my effort in the war would be better served by assisting the Federal forces recover several stolen payroll wagons full of Federal and Confederate gold.” He lifted his shoulder in a negligent shrug. “How much assistance I offered, I can’t say, because to the best of my knowledge, only three of seven wagons were recovered from information I passed on to the camp commander.”
“So you were a spy?” Jessie leaned closer to him and Allison was forced to hide her grin. A dark thundercloud had settled over Drake’s features.
“A very unwilling spy, Miss Majors. It was only with the most intense persuasion that I even agreed to fulfill the orders given to me by that Union officer because what he asked of me felt more like treason.”
Cookie entered the dining room at the point, bearing a large, multi-layer cake. He said, “I know the Boss wants coffee. Anyone else?”
After the last of the plates were cleared away, Rachel stood. On cue, all four men stood. Jessie met Allison’s gaze and started to giggle. Allison felt a smile tugging at her mouth and a moment later, Rachel was also laughing.
Drake spoke up. “Gentlemen stand when a lady does or when she enters a room.”
“Yes,” Rachel agreed, “but the four of you popped up like dandelions after the first spring rain. Now, we need to do something about sleeping arrangements for the night.”
Royce held a hand down to his daughter. “Drake and I can sleep in the den, Rachel. That way I can keep an eye on my soon to be son-in-law.”
Drake had the good graces to flush. Jessie stood. “Daddy, Drake has never been anything other than a gentleman, and you know it.”
Allison also stood, and A.J. kept his hand in the small of her back. He glanced down at Allison as Royce growled, “If I thought he’d been anything but, I’d have his hide.”
Harrison stepped away from the table. “Rachel, I need to speak to you in the kitchen, if you don’t mind. Royce, would you show everyone into the parlor?”
A thread of unease needled into Allison. Even in the parlor, the sound of raised voices carried. While no one could make out what was being said, it was more than apparent there was a heated discussion. The anxiety Allison felt transmitted itself to the rest of the group and there was very little conversation.
Several minutes later, Rachel stormed into the parlor, followed by Harrison. She caught Allison’s hands. “I’m sorry.”
A.J.’s hand tightened on Allison’s shoulder.
“But that lug I’m married to says that you and Jessie have to share a room.”
Allison actually felt A.J. relax. He pulled her back against his chest. “It’s all right, Rachel,” Allison said.
“No, it’s not, because he’s being totally unreasonable about this.”
“I am not being unreasonable,” Harrison protested. “I know what A.J. was like at the same age as Drake. Jessie alone in a room while the rest of the house is sleeping…”
“Pot meet kettle,” A.J. said. “Who was breaking hearts all over Trapman County before we were fifteen? And I was married with a child when I was Drake’s age.”
“I don’t know if I should be offended by the questions raised about my manners or grateful for the consideration being shown to Jessie,” Drake added, just before tossing back a tumbler of bourbon. “I’ve been sleeping in the same house with her since we were children.”
Rachel whirled to face her husband. “We are not separating the newlyweds, Harrison Mark Taylor.”
Harrison leaned closer to Rachel. “I have another option, Rachel.”
Allison’s heart leapt into her throat. His tone of voice made it very clear what the alternative was.
Rachel planted her hands on her hips and looked up into her husband’s face. “If you want to sleep anywhere other than the jail or the bunkhouse for the rest of your married life your other option will immediately be discarded.” She poked a finger into his chest. “I don’t often put my foot down, but I am doing it this time.”
Allison suspected Rachel often put her foot down, and just as often won her husband over to her point of view. A.J. stepped into the conversation. “Rachel, as long as I’m not sleeping in the barn, it will be all right. I’d prefer not to sleep alone, but it is just for the night.”
Rachel glared over her shoulder. “Don’t you start taking his side.”
A.J. backed up a step, his hands held up in a gesture of
surrender. “Never, ma’am. To avoid further angry words and discussion, would you please show me to whatever room I will have for the evening, whether it’s with my wife or alone? I have an old back injury and at the moment, it’s extremely painful.”
Allison wasn’t sure exactly what A.J. said, but Harrison immediately capitulated. He sighed. “Rachel, why don’t we put A.J. and Allison in the guest room at the end of the hallway? Jessie can have the bedroom next to ours.”
Rachel’s smile could have lit the dark Wyoming night for miles. “I knew you’d see it my way, sooner or later,” she said and reached up to plant a kiss on her husband’s cheek.
Rachel led the way to the second floor. Allison couldn’t help but laugh when Rachel opened the door to the bedroom, and A.J.’s saddle bag was already spread out on the small loveseat at the foot of the bed. Draped across the foot of the bed were nightclothes for both herself and A.J. “You had no intention of losing that argument did you?” Allison asked.
Rachel lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Oh, I let him win most of the time…just not the really important things. Like where you two were sleeping, and it certainly was not going to be apart, and he knew I meant it when I said if he even thought twice about taking the two of you to the jail tonight, he would be sleeping for a very, very long time either at the jail or in the bunkhouse.”
“Where’s my gun?” A.J. asked.
Rachel sighed in obvious frustration. “Harrison insisted that stay in our room for the night. However…” The most devilish grin Allison had ever seen cross any person’s face flittered over Rachel’s features. “I also have no fear of being shot and killed in my own bed. Your revolver is in your saddle bags, as is the derringer.”
A.J. crossed to the loveseat and pulled the holstered revolver from the saddle bag. He handed it to Rachel. “I don’t want to trample his hospitality. Please put this in your room for the night. I will want it back in the morning, that is, if he doesn’t decide to take Allison and me to jail.”