by Sable Hunter
Footsteps came from behind them. “I brought a game camera to set up for Mom. She wants to see what comes around at night.” Kyd held up the camo patterned camera. “Where should I put it?”
Clint moved to help his brother as Bethany left to welcome more guests. “How about that oak to the left of the patio? We could aim it at the cactus patch where she throws her leftovers.” Between the two brothers, they soon had the camera attached to the tree and Gillian was in the wildlife surveillance business. “Has everyone arrived?”
Kyd looked toward the house. “Yea, I think so. It’s just mom, us kids, and Riley Jacobs. No one brought a date or anything.”
Clint picked up his tea glass from off the flagstones. “I thought maybe she’d invited some of the McCoy cousins.”
“She wants to get the house just so before they come for their first visit.” Kyd admired the lines of the house. “This was a great buy. These white limestone houses are built to last.”
“I think she’ll be happy here. She’s already met a few ladies in the neighborhood. I call them the Golf Cart Brigade. They ride from house to house drinking margaritas and stalking old men on the golf course.” Clint chuckled at his own description. “Mom needs that sort of thing.”
“She does.” Kyd tapped Clint on the shoulder. “Bethany’s waving at us. Maybe it’s time to eat.”
They made their way to the L-shaped back porch where everyone was gathered around a table set with candles and African violets. The centerpiece was a huge white layer cake. “Yum, what flavor?” Clint asked Cassidy who stood admiring her own creation.
“Bethany’s favorite. Italian Cream, of course.”
Italian. Mistretta was an Italian name. Clint felt an uncomfortable twinge in his chest. “Get over it, Wilder,” he chastised himself softly. “If you can get lovesick over a cake, you’re in trouble.”
“What did you say?” Cassidy asked, looking at her older brother with concern.
“Not a thing, sweetie.” He leaned over to kiss his lovely sister. “Congratulations on your win in Nashville. What was the prize?”
“A check. A plaque. Best of all - job offers.” Her eyes twinkled with delight. “Three so for. One is in Austin, thank goodness. I don’t relish moving halfway across the country.”
“Good. I don’t want you too far away. How’s your love life?” The moment Clint asked the question, he realized she’d turn it around on him. “Never mind. I probably don’t want to know, do I?”
“What love life?” Cassidy laughed. “I work in the restaurant business. I have no time to date.” She nudged him and winked. “While you, on the other hand are a babe magnet with plenty of time to pursue happiness.”
“Nothing to tell on my part. I’m not dating anyone at the moment.” Not for lack of trying.
“Oh, too bad. Have you met Bethany’s friend, Riley? She’s cute as a bug.”
“No, I haven’t. But…”
On cue, Bethany arrived at his side. “Clint, I want you to meet Riley.”
Turning, he found his sister accompanied by an attractive girl with dark brown hair and an infectious smile. “How good to meet you, Riley. Thanks for putting up with the gremlin. You’re a nurse, I hear?”
“I am. I love being a school nurse. Can’t beat the summers off.”
“You’re right. I never thought of that. Since Bethany is an accident waiting to happen, I’m glad she has a friend like you.”
“What?” Bethany acted as if she were offended. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Riley giggled. “I agree. Just last week she tried rollerblading.” She held up four fingers. “Two scraped knees and two scraped elbows.”
From behind Bethany, Gillian exclaimed, “Were you hurt, sweetheart?”
“No, Mom.” Bethany gave Clint a hard look. “Clint’s just trying to cause trouble.”
“Impossible. Clint’s an angel.” Gillian frowned as she took her son by the hand. “Come with me. I want to show you the photos Riley brought for us to see.”
“Okay.” Clint felt only a glimmer of curiosity. “Riley, will you join us?”
“Sure.” They all started into the living room.
“Don’t get too preoccupied,” Colleen called from the kitchen. “Cassidy is almost ready to take supper out of the oven.”
“All right. This won’t take long,” Gillian told her daughter. “I just want Clint and Rowan to see these pictures. Is Rowan here?”
“Not yet,” Colleen answered. “I’m keeping a watch out the window for him. Did you know there are deer in the ditch next to the house?”
“Yes, dear. I put out some food for them.”
Clint shook his head. “You’re becoming a Dr. Doolittle, Mom.”
“I know.” She gave him a mischievous grin. “I love the animals.” Sitting on the couch, she patted the cushions on both sides of her. “Riley, bring those photos.”
Clint sat next to his mother as the young woman placed three photos on her lap. She slowly handed one to her son. He took the photograph, narrowing his gaze to take in the image of two young men. “Who am I looking at?”
Riley leaned over Gillian. “The one on the right is Abram Wilder and the one on the left is his brother, Abel. I never knew Abel, he left home long before I met Abram’s son, Seth.”
Clint heard the woman’s voice trail off with a wistful sort of tone. He didn’t stop to give it any thought, he was too busy staring at a face so familiar it could’ve been his own.
“That boy looks like he could be your father, doesn’t he, Clint?” Gillian asked with a hopeful tone.
Was this his father? “I’m not sure. Our father’s name was Saul.” He stared at the pair of young men for a few moments longer. “Riley, can you tell us anything more?”
“Not much. These photos belonged to my grandmother. She used to work for the Wilder’s.” Riley gave an awkward laugh. “We all worked for the Wilders in one way or another. They owned the only industry in the area.”
“Really?” Clint reached for another photograph. “This showed the same pair of boys, this time they were with an older couple. “I assume these are the parents?”
“Yes. Alphonse and Yevette Wilder. They carried on the family business. The Wilders have been growing peppers and making hot sauce since before the Civil War.”
“Hot sauce?” Clint chuckled as he said the words. “That is certainly weird.”
“Not really. Louisiana is known for this hot sauce. It’s literally shipped all over the world.”
Gillian patted Clint’s knee. “Riley knows these people quite well. She used to date Abram’s son, Seth.”
“Date is a pretty strong word. We went out a few times.”
Clint glanced at Riley. He could hear the heartbreak in her words, but his mother seemed oblivious. Was he just more prone to notice this stuff since Jensen? Cripes. He was turning into a sensitive romantic. “Let’s see the last photo.”
Gillian passed it to him, and this one stole his ability to breathe. The young men were older, and they were laughing. He stared at the one named Abel who stood with both hands on his hips. This stance was so familiar and how Clint always pictured his dad when he thought of him. “What can you tell me about Abel?”
“Not much. Seth only mentioned him once to me when we were together.”
“What did he say?” Gillian asked, her features tense with expectation.
Riley exhaled, her face a mask of remembrance. “He said his grandfather forbade Able from ever coming home and he forbade Abram from ever speaking his name aloud.”
“Jeez, what could make a man say something like that to his son?” Could this be the reason his father never mentioned his family? “What happened to Abel?”
Riley shrugged. “I have no idea. We never spoke of him again.”
“How can I get hold of this Seth you speak of? Do you have his number?”
Blanching, Riley shook her head. “Oh, no. I don’t. And I won’t attempt to contact him for
you either.” She rose from her place on the couch. “I’m sure you can contact the Bayou-Burn corporation. Seth must be the CEO by now. And if you do talk to him, please don’t mention my name or how you discovered this information.”
“Why not?” Gillian asked, looking up at the girl with motherly concern.
“I don’t want him to know where I am.”
“Are you afraid of this Seth Wilder?” This question came from Clint. He didn’t like the thought of a woman being afraid.
Riley laughed sadly. “Oh, no. I just don’t want him to think I was trying to renew an acquaintance. I don’t want him to think about me at all.”
“Well, that makes no sense, sweetheart.” Ever the mother hen, Gillian tried to reason with the girl. “You seem to still have feelings…”
“Mother, let her alone.” Clint passed two of the photos back to Riley. “Can I make a copy of this one?” He held up the picture showing the young man standing with hands on his hips.
“Yea, sure.”
Clint placed the photo on the coffee table, then took a picture of it with his phone. After examining it to make sure the image was clear, he passed the original to Riley. “Thanks for doing this.”
“I hope it helps.” Riley clasped the photos in her hand, then backed away from them. “I think I’ll find Bethany.”
Once she was gone, Gillian looked to her son. “What do you think?”
Clint hesitated to say. “I don’t know. The boy in that picture could’ve been Dad. But why the different name?”
“I have no idea. Will you contact this man, this Seth Wilder?”
Clint nodded with a promise. “Yea, I will. Soon.”
“Hey, guys!” Colleen called from the back door. “Rowan’s here. Let’s eat!”
After a satisfying meal of shrimp scampi and lobster tails, they all dug into the cake. The birthday girl passed around plates and soon they were all full and happy. Clint sat in an oversized rocking chair on the porch, his eyes barely open.
“Hey, bro. You wanna take a ride?”
“Sure.” Clint stood to his feet to follow Rowan onto the patio. “Are we going somewhere in particular or can we take the golf cart?”
“The golf cart’s fine.” Rowan fell in step with his brother as they made their way to the denim blue electric golf cart parked just off the flagstone path by the firepit. “I just need to clear my head.”
“What’s wrong?”
Rowan didn’t answer until they were well underway. “I don’t think I can handle it anymore.”
Clint was afraid of what his brother might be saying. “Handle what? What’s wrong?”
“Same old thing. I can’t sleep. I can’t think. I’m…depressed and I can’t shake it.”
Knowing he was apt to piss off his brother, Clint pressed ahead anyway. “You’ve got to get some help.”
“Help? What kind of help? What would they do?”
For a moment, Clint thought his brother was going to bail out of the cart. “Easy.”
“Don’t tell me to be easy.” Rowan’s voice was raised and harsh.
Clint took no offense. “You need to talk to someone.”
“What the hell do you think I’m doing now?”
Clint veered off the cart path to avoid the stream of water coming from the sprinkler system. “I don’t count, Rowan. I can sympathize and worry, but I’m not trained. There is no shame in seeking out treatment. You went through one hell of a trauma and it’s normal for survivors of such…incidents to have lasting repercussions.”
“I saw twenty people gunned down, Clint. It’s a wonder I didn’t die myself. Even worse, I put myself in that situation. I knew riding with the Cossacks wasn’t the smartest thing to do. I guess it was just my way of rebelling – of escaping…”
“Your way of escaping five siblings, a single mom, and too many responsibilities for one way too young to shoulder them.” Clint didn’t judge. He just hated to see his brother still suffering from being in the wrong place at the wrong time. “You didn’t go to that Waco restaurant to get in the middle of an MC war.”
“No, I didn’t. But what does that say about me?” Rowan pressed the issue. “What kind of judgment do I have? I walked into the trap with my eyes open. I knew tempers would be flying high. The Banditos were angry we even showed up to the meeting. The whole place was like a tinderbox. One spark and it all went to hell in a handbasket.”
Oh, Clint remembered too well. He’d nearly died at the sight of the cable news reports showing the stand-off between two rival motorcycle gangs at the Twin Peaks Restaurant in Waco. “Still, that’s over. Gone. You’re a different person. You have a different life. A meaningful life. You’re helping the helpless.”
“Yea, but I’m not…right. I lose my head so easily.” He held on to the windshield to steady himself as they drove down a steep incline. “Oh, not with the horses. Never the horses.”
“With whom? What are you talking about?”
“I yelled at Ivy the other day. What if she’s afraid of me now?”
“Why did you yell at Ivy? What did she do to piss you off?” He came to a stop to put a keycard into the entrance of the private lakeside park.
Rowan sneered as if the question offended him. “She didn’t piss me off. She scared the hell out of me. I lost it.”
“Well, surely she understands. What happened?” he asked as they came near to the lakeshore where wild ducks were parading in and out of the water.
“Someone brought in this stallion. The horse was in a wreck. A mare in the same trailer was killed when the truck and its whole rig turned over on the highway. Now, this stallion’s nerves are shot, and he won’t even let Ivy touch him. Whenever she comes near, he rears up and paws the air.”
Like you. The thought came first to Clint’s mind. “Don’t you think Ivy can handle herself? She has a ton of experience with these types of animals.”
“She doesn’t weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet, Clint,” Rowan whispered as he gazed out over peaceful Lake Travis as the sun put on a dazzling show on its way out of town.
“So, you yelled at her? How did she take it?”
“She yelled back.”
Clint chuckled. “Well, good. So – what’s the problem?” He started up the cart again to make a circle through the park.
“I’m afraid I’m spiraling out of control. If I can yell at her when I…”
Love her? “Yea?”
“She’s no threat to me. I should treat her with the utmost care and respect.”
With a sigh, Clint tried to put himself in his brother’s shoes. “We tend to strike out at the people we love the best. I guess that’s because we care about them the most. Our emotions run high.” Even as he spoke…he wondered if that reasoning might explain Jensen’s reaction to him.
“Are you listening to me?”
Rowan’s question snagged Clint’s attention. “Of course. What were you saying?”
“I said I don’t want to be a danger to anybody, especially someone I care about.”
“Will you think about seeing someone? I’ll go with you.” He aimed the cart toward the park exit in order to make their way back to their mother’s house.
Rowan was silent for a moment. “I’ll think about it. I’m not saying I’ll do it – but I’ll give it some thought.”
“Do. Kyd and I thought we might drive up to see you Sunday afternoon.”
“Why?” Rowan sounded a bit suspicious.
“Do we need a reason other than brother bonding time?”
“No. I guess not.”
“Since I have a place now, I thought I’d look at some of your stock.”
His mention of the horses was all it took, and Rowan was enthused. “Well, sure. I’ll get some steaks. We’ll have a party.”
“Good.” Rowan didn’t need to know he had an ulterior motive. After today’s conversation, he was more concerned than ever. After checking the time, Clint declared, “Well, I gotta get home. I’ve got an early
appointment in the morning.”
“What kind?”
“With the Hill Country Search and Rescue group. An orientation. Preparatory work, I guess, in order to get us ready for the real deal.” He laughed. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know what to expect.”
“Will this be good publicity for the team?”
“I don’t intend for it to be, this is entirely personal for me. Anyway, for the next three days I’ll be learning how to rescue people in the wilderness.”
“Sounds like a good time to me.” Rowan straightened the baseball cap on his head.
Clint was glad to see him smiling once more. “I guess it all depends on who they pair me up with. If we get along, this is going to be like a vacation.”
“And if you don’t get along with this person?”
“Well, that’s not gonna happen. I mean, I’m easy going – and who wouldn’t enjoy spending a few days in close proximity to Clint Wilder?”
Rowan laughed at his brother’s sense of humor. “You’re right. Who wouldn’t want to be partnered up with you?”
* * *
The drive from Nameless to Bastrop took about an hour, carrying Clint east past Austin. No one could ignore the marked contrast between the two locations, even though they were only some fifty-eight miles apart. His ranch was located in the densely wooded hill country, rolling verdant hills with a limestone heart. The emerald colored groves of cedars and oaks were punctuated by boulders and outcroppings of snow-white rock, all nestled around the sapphire blue waters of Lake Travis. Yet, travel this hour’s distance, and you found yourself in a flat area covered with haunting stands of pine trees, seemingly lost, out of place and time. Both territories were beautiful in their own right but looked so different they could be located states apart instead of just miles.
As he neared Bastrop, he hooked south toward Smithville, knowing Tanner’s Lost Pines Ranch lay somewhere near the village of Rosanky. Feeling excited, he rolled the window down to allow the breeze to hit him full in the face. Symbolically, he was allowing the fresh air to blow away the worries and concerns from his brain. No fretting about the Texans or endorsements or agents. No recriminations over the unrequited feelings he had for Jensen. He’d treat this time as a renewal. A way to start fresh and start thinking about his own life from a new perspective.