Return to Oak Valley

by Shirlee Busbee

  “Would you mind if I came with you when you do it…your brother was very good to me and my children. He was very dear to me—and to Nick and Raquel.”

  “Of course not! And if I hadn't been so busy with my own feelings, I would have suggested it myself.” Guilt washed over her. During her years away, she and Josh had had an exclusive relationship, just the two of them, and she had forgotten that he had another life away from her, that there were other people who had cared about him, who had loved him. He had specified that his ashes were to be spread privately, but surely he wouldn't object to Maria's presence? And as for Nick and Raquel…Maria's husband, Juan, had been a mostly absent one—at least as far she knew—and for as long as she could remember, Josh had shouldered the responsibility for their well-being. Just as he had with her. Her brother, she thought with a wistful smile, had had strong patriarchal tendencies and should have had his own brood of a half dozen children or so to oversee. Instead, there had been only her. And upon occasion, Nick and Raquel. They had loved him, too.

  Impulsively, Shelly asked, “Do you think Nick and Raquel would like to be there? I have no set time to do it. Do you want to get in touch with them and ask them?”

  Maria did and consequently, it was a somber group of five who stood on Pomo Ridge overlooking the valley that afternoon. Thirty-six hundred feet below them lay the valley, still not having escaped the grip of winter, as the patchwork of colors revealed. The planted fields were a soft green, though the fallow ground still sported patches of yellow and brown—last year's dead grass and weeds, the new growth not yet tall enough to hide them. While many trees were already covered in green, the oaks that dotted the valley floor had not yet leafed out, the only sign of life on their naked branches the faint rosy tips that bespoke a spring yet to come. Gazing across to Mount Sebastian, towering over the ascending foothills to the east, Shelly wasn't surprised to see that the mountaintop was cloaked in white, the firs and pines standing tall and dark above the snow.

  From here Shelly could make out most of the landmarks of the valley. She easily picked out the state highway that ran through the valley and the short string of businesses that straggled along it for five or six blocks. Below and almost directly in front of where she stood was the self-serve tiny Oak Valley Airport and a half mile or so to the left and beyond the airport lay the high school and grammar school. She noticed the high school still didn't have outside lights for night games—a sore point with everyone who had ever sat on the metal bleachers on a hot September afternoon to watch a football game. She had endured a few herself, although she had not attended the local high school. Josh had been adamant about that, too—when they reached high school age, all of the Grangers had been packed off to private schools, and whether she liked it or not, she would go to the very pricey private school in San Francisco that he had picked out. Shelly frowned. She'd forgotten how determined to get his own way Josh could be—or that he'd been a bit of a snob.

  Feeling disloyal and uncomfortable with her thoughts, she stared down at the heavy bronze urn she held in her hands. It seemed strange that an object that she could hold in her hands contained all the physical remains of Josh Granger. The finality of what she was about to do suddenly overwhelmed her. Her head bent as anguish tore through her, and tears burned her eyes. Oh, Josh! How could you have done this to yourself—and to the rest of us?

  She glanced back at the others where they stood in a half circle behind her. It was an odd little group, the housekeeper, her two grown children, and the family lawyer. Mike Sawyer looked the part; his dark blue suit creased and pressed, his white shirt and tie neat and tidy, the only un-lawyerly note a pair of discreet black cowboy boots. Shelly liked that—it made him seem more approachable, less stiff and professional. Like her, Maria was simply dressed—pressed slacks and shirt, and a light jacket for protection against the faint chill in the air, despite the pale sunshine. Beside their mother stood Nick and Raquel, Nick towering over the two women, his eyes shuttered, his mouth held in a tight line. Raquel reminded Shelly of Maria, small, square-shouldered, and sweet-faced, her features hidden behind a handful of tissues as she tried to contain her tears.

  Shelly looked away, feeling her own tears clogging her throat. Clearing her throat, she asked, “Does anyone want to say anything?”

  Maria hesitated, then nodded and stepped forward. Laying her hand on the urn, she said in a trembling voice, “You were a good man, Josh Granger—I shall miss you. Rest in peace.”

  Maria's children shook their heads, Nick's eyes dropping to the ground between his boots, Raquel burying her head deeper into damp tissues. Mike Sawyer spoke up. “I brought a small Bible with me—I could read the Twenty-third Psalm, if you like. I think it's the twenty-third they always read at funerals.”

  Shelly shook her head. “That's not necessary—Since he never set foot in a church unless he had to, I don't think Josh would care.”

  She turned and looked down at the valley. Taking a deep breath, she undid the lid and began to shake out the ashes. A slight breeze had sprung up and the gray ash, all that remained of the physical Josh Granger, drifted away. Goodbye, Bro, Shelly said softly to herself, tears stinging the corners of her eyes, her spirits low. Find peace.

  It was a silent and awkward group that rode the three miles back to Josh's house in Shelly's Bronco. Only when they were once more inside, all five of them seated in the kitchen sipping the hot coffee Maria had prepared before they had left to spread the ashes, did they start to speak.

  At first the conversation was slow and uncertain and was mostly of a “getting-to-know” type. Shelly knew of Mike Sawyer, had talked to him quite a bit recently but had never met him. Beyond the most basic facts and a few blurry memories, Nick and Raquel were almost strangers to her. And it had been seventeen years since she had last seen Maria. With Josh's death lurking just over their shoulders, it wasn't what one could call a comfortable time, but as the conversation ebbed and flowed around her, Shelly began to relax.

  Meeting Mike's eye, she said, “I really appreciate you taking the time to drive up here.” Smiling faintly she added, “I doubt that delivering ashes to the bereaved family is why you became a lawyer.”

  Mike appeared to be in his mid-to-late thirties, and leaning back in the kitchen chair, his coat discarded and his tie half-undone, he appeared even less the proper family lawyer and far more attractive than Shelly had first thought. Standing about six feet tall, with a slender build and light brown hair and blue eyes, she found herself warming to him, liking the intelligence in his gaze and the sensitive curve of his mouth.

  Mike waved a dismissing hand. “I wanted to do it. Your brother was more than a client—he was a friend as well. I hope that you will consider me in the same light.”

  Shelly nodded and, looking warmly around the table at the others, lifted her mug, and said, “Here's to friendship.”

  Maria beamed at her, Raquel nodded, and Mike grinned. Sprawled across from her, his long legs stretched in front of him, Nick regarded her for a moment, then shrugged and raised his mug. “Why not.”

  It was a less-than-enthusiastic response, but Shelly was willing to take it. The toast was drunk and the conversation ambled on a few more minutes before Raquel asked abruptly, “How long do you intend to stay?”

  Shelly's gaze dropped to her brown ironstone mug. “I, um, don't have any set date.” She swallowed, saying in a firmer voice, “Actually, I may not be returning.” She looked up. “I'm thinking of staying…permanently.”

  “Oh, chica! I am so happy to hear you say that,” Maria exclaimed. “I know it is what Josh hoped would happen one day.” A cloud crossed her face. “It's not for me to criticize, and I do not mean it to sound as if I am, but how sad that you make this decision now—and not when Josh was alive. He spoke so often of how much he wanted you to come back to Oak Valley. He longed for you to return and was always saying how much he missed you. He was very lonely for your company.”

  Shelly frowned. That was
n't how she remembered it. The few times she brought up the subject of returning, Josh had brushed it aside, rushing on to talk about other things. In fact, if she'd had to hazard a guess, she would have said that Josh had not wanted her to come back. He had seemed content and more than willing for her to remain in New Orleans, yet Maria was telling her the exact opposite. If he'd wanted her to come home, why hadn't he said something?

  Confused, she shrugged, and muttered, “Well, I'm here now, even if a bit late.”

  Breaking into the uncomfortable mood that seemed ready to settle over them, Mike said briskly, “Speaking of the time, I had better think of leaving. I've an hour and half drive in front of me. But before I leave, I thought perhaps we could get the reading of Josh's will out of the way. I brought it with me just on the off chance the opportunity presented itself—I didn't see the need for all of you to drive to my office for that particular formality. If you'll excuse me long enough to get it out of my briefcase in the car?”

  “Of course,” Shelly replied, her initial favorable impression of the lawyer increasing.

  An awkward silence fell with the departure of Sawyer, Shelly once again realizing that she was in the midst of strangers, and she wished that Roman and Angelique were with her. Her eyes on her mug in front of her, she waited for Mike's return, tension coiling in her stomach as the minutes ticked by.

  A strained smile on her face, she glanced around at Maria and her children. “It was kind of you to come with me to spread his ashes.”

  “Kindness had nothing to do with it,” Nick growled, his expression resentful and determined at the same time.

  “Oh, Nick, don't! Not now,” cried Raquel, reaching out a hand to clasp his arm. “Please! We've just said good-bye to him. I know how you felt about him, but don't start now.”

  “Your sister is right,” said Maria firmly. “Now is the time to grieve. There will be time later for, for…other things.”

  Bewildered, Shelly looked from one shuttered face to the other. “Would someone mind telling me what's going on?”

  A bitter smile curved Nick's mouth as he stared at her. “You don't get it, do you?” He shook his head. “Figures. Ole Josh wouldn't want anything to distress his innocent little princess or to disturb the pedestal you obviously put him on.” He laughed, but there was no amusement in the sound. “Allow me to strike the first blow at that golden image he presented to you.” He bowed mockingly. “Meet your nephew, auntie. Of course, I'm not legitimate. Oh, no. Josh could sleep with the hired help and get her pregnant, but God forbid that a great and powerful Granger would ever marry his Mexican housekeeper or publicly acknowledge his own child.” At Shelly's stunned expression, he added, “Yeah, that's right, auntie. I'm your brother's bastard. Welcome to the family secret.”

  Chapter Three

  Shelly blinked. A couple of things occurred to her at once. The contradiction of Josh's statements to her and those expressed by Maria were the most immediate. Not having ever mentioned or even hinted at the existence of a child, Josh sure as hell wouldn't have wanted her to come back to Oak Valley. Conversely, to Maria, he'd have acted otherwise. Sly was not a word she previously would have ever associated with Josh, but she began to wonder if Josh hadn't been very sly indeed.

  Though she had been very young at the time, she remembered the distress she'd felt at Maria's sudden and inexplicable disappearance all those years before. One day Maria had been there laughing and singing as she had bathed her and put her to bed, and the next day she was gone. Just gone. No warning. No explanation. Not understanding what had happened to upset her little world, Shelly recalled that she had cried herself to sleep for days, missing Maria's gentle presence and funny bedtime stories. Thinking about that time, it seemed she vaguely recalled that her parents had gone around tight-lipped for several weeks afterward and Josh had been sullen-faced and surly. The details weren't clear in her mind—she'd been lost in her own lonesome misery. Besides, she'd only been about four and it wasn't likely that she'd remember much from that age anyway. Putting the pieces together now, some thirty years later, it offered one explanation for Maria's disappearance—especially when she linked it now with Maria's return over a year later with a squalling, red-faced Nick in her arms and a husband—Juan Rios.

  It must have been an awkward and uncomfortable time for Josh and her mother and father, Shelly thought. She had only a few memories of her father, but Catherine Granger had always been a cool, stiff figure in her memories, proud of being a Granger, conscious of her position in the community. Neither Catherine, nor her husband, for that matter, would have been pleased to discover their first grandchild had been conceived by one of the Mexican help. While not agreeing with them, Shelly understood some of the reasons behind her mother's actions. Catherine Vale had been born dirt-poor, and it was her fairy-tale marriage to Stanley Granger that had allowed her to live a Cinderella-like existence and put her past behind her. Once married into the family, she became more Granger than any Granger born to the name and was prouder and more fiercely protective of the Granger reputation than any Granger who had ever lived. Having climbed up from dirt, her mother had been, and Shelly acknowledged it with an inward sigh, a bit of a snob, and she would have been furious—to be fair, as much with Josh as with Maria—with the news of the pregnancy. Marriage would have been out of the question as far as Catherine and probably her husband, too, was concerned and Josh must have gone along with it—with everything, including Maria's banishment. They were, after all, Grangers, leading members of the community, and no more than his parents did Josh enjoy being gossiped about. But Maria had come back…and stayed. Wow! What she wouldn't have given to be a fly on the wall back then. Fascinating.

  Oddly enough that was her reaction to the situation. Fascinating. Surprising. Looking at Nick with new eyes, she thought she could see a resemblance to her brother—to herself for that matter. Nick's eyes were not just dark as she had first thought, they were dark green, possibly the same dark green as her own, and the slightly almond shape appeared the same—a Granger trait, although not everyone in the family had it. Nick's height could have come from Josh, too—and that lazy grace of his. Certainly, now that she considered it, Nick had a way of moving that was not unlike Josh's languid motions. Shelly might have reservations, but it never occurred to her to dismiss Nick's claim out of hand. She turned it over in her mind and found herself believing that Nick could very well be her brother's child. There could be other explanations, and she wasn't discounting them, but Nick's blunt revelation had a ring of truth about it.

  Astounding all of them, including herself, Shelly suddenly thrust out her hand, and said, “Glad to meet you, nephew!” She smiled wryly. “Now would someone please tell me what the hell has been going on?”

  Nick shook his head, a slow grin replacing his bitter expression. “You know, I always liked you—even when you were being a bratty teenager, but I think I like you even more now…auntie.”

  “You believe him?” Maria asked incredulously.

  Shelly shrugged. “I'm willing to take his words at face value. I'm a little taken aback, maybe even stunned.” She smiled slightly. “And curious, I'm not going to deny that. And when I've had time to consider it more, I'm sure I'm going to have a lot of questions.”

  Raquel let out a pent-up breath. “You're being very nice about this. Mom and I pleaded with Nick to keep his mouth shut.” She shot him a look. “Tactful is not a word I would apply to my brother.”

  “Yeah, well, I'd rather be untactful than tiptoe around the subject. Even though Josh did his best to pretend the connection didn't exist, you can bet that in the valley everyone suspected the truth. Better Shelly found out about it from me than to have some well-meaning busybody spring it on her.”

  “I can agree with that,” Shelly muttered, thinking of some of the more sharp-tongued residents of the valley. Glancing around at the three of them, she asked, “Is it really a secret? Or am I the only one who doesn't know?”

  “Does
n't know what?” Mike Sawyer asked, walking back into the room, a small briefcase in one hand.

  “That I'm no longer the only member of my branch of the family,” Shelly said, that thought having just occurred to her. She liked the idea. Josh's child. She had a nephew. It gave her a warm feeling, and while she knew that feeling might not last, she accepted their relationship. She supposed she should be traumatized by the news, or at least upset, but she wasn't. She'd always liked Nick when they'd been kids together, and Maria had always held a special spot in her heart. In fact, she'd always thought of Maria as part of her family, so why shouldn't she be happy with the situation?

  Mike flashed Nick a glance. “I see. Nick just couldn't keep from telling you that fantasy of his, could he? Not even today.”

  Shelly's brow rose. “Fantasy? Are you telling me that Nick isn't Josh's child?”

  She glanced at Maria, who remained silent. “Is it true? Is Nick my brother's child?”

  Maria's lip trembled, and she shot her son an agonized glance. “He believes it.”

  Shelly frowned. If it were true, why didn't Maria just say so? Embarrassment? Maybe.

  She would have pressed the issue, but Mike said coolly, “This is hardly the time for this sort of subject. I have no idea of Nick's parentage and quite frankly I don't care who his father may or may not be.” Ignoring Nick's snort, he went on, “And I am not going to discuss it. Your brother is dead—we just spread his ashes, and his secrets went with him.”

  “Wait a minute!” Shelly began. “You can't just pretend the situation doesn't exist. Besides, why would Nick lie?” She decided prudently not to mention Maria's reaction to Nick's claim, but it puzzled her—a lot.