Jesse

by Reina Torres

  JESSE

  The Suttons - An American Legacy

  Reina Torres

  Copyright © 2020 by Reina Torres

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of this author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or deceased is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Model Photo Credit: Golden Czermak - FuriousFotog

  Model Credit: Jay Herrington

  Love is many faceted crazy thing…

  Love is strange…

  Love is different and the same for everyone…

  I’m writing this book for my parents -

  They fell in love and became parents in the early 70s. Those crazy youngin’s!

  While I’m not writing ‘their’ story… I wanted to dive headfirst into the feeling of the era… the songs I’d sing in my sleep as a toddler… and let it live through a family who like them… have a legacy of love.

  AND…

  To the real inspiration for Mr. Sussman - Ed S.

  Even if I had a thousand years of knowing you, it would never be enough. Thanks for giving me the kick in the pants to publish - So creative and inspiring - You are part of my chosen family and I’ll always look up to you! Ride Safe!

  Contents

  Jesse Sutton

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

  Next for ‘The Suttons’ -

  About the Author

  Also by Reina Torres

  Jesse Sutton

  Since 1925, the Suttons have helped create movie magic on their ranch in Central California. Now, in 1973, it’s time for a new generation to take over.

  Jesse Sutton holds the reins on the newest movie project, but he’s more than aware that he’s just filling the shoes of his brother who was lost in Vietnam. His biggest challenge, making the star of the movie look like a cowboy when he’s never even been on a hobby-horse.

  Etta’s family has always been anything but. Tired of living in the narrow lines of her father’s love she leaves to make her own way in the world and discovers that she’s wholly unprepared to find her way.

  The Suttons welcome Etta Bradford like family and the feelings that Jesse is harboring for the beautiful young woman makes him wonder if she could be the one he’s always dreamed of, but never felt he deserved. When issues with the lead actor threaten his family’s livelihood, Jesse’s forced to make a decision that might destroy the legacy created by his grandfather to protect Etta.

  Will the pressures of his family legacy put an end to their love story or have they only just begun?

  Chapter One

  Gold Valley, California – February 1973

  JESSE

  There were a few things you wouldn’t expect to hear on the street of a town in the Wild West of America. Diesel engines were the top of the list.

  Scrubbing a hand over his face, Jesse Sutton stepped up to the front door of his home and pulled the door open. The sunlight was still half-way hidden behind the hill to the east of the property, but there was enough sunlight to make him squint as he stepped outside.

  His booted feet scuffed easily over the sanded boards under his feet and he set himself down on the bench placed under one of the windows.

  There were a good half-dozen trucks lumbering through town, their wheels digging into the dirt streets. With a grim smile Jesse let out a sigh of satisfaction.

  “You should be proud of yourself.” A boot hit the edge of the porch, followed quickly behind by the customary jangle of spurs. “Looks like things are moving along on schedule. How early were you up?”

  “Got up a few hours ago.” Jesse didn’t bother trying to look for a clock. The only one that existed in the town was the clock on the face of the mercantile down on Main Street. “It was easy enough since we got the water pipes laid down.”

  His father set a hand on his shoulder hard enough that he would have staggered back if he wasn’t already leaning back against the wall. “I have to give it to you, son. It’s nice not to have to suck up dust like your ma’s vacuum cleaner on days like this.”

  Jesse barely held back a laugh. He’d gone toe to toe with his father over the cost of installing the additional water lines, but now that they were in and useful, everything was great.

  It wasn’t always easy to deal with someone as headstrong as Holt Sutton.

  He should know, since he was just like his dad in that aspect.

  “Who’s loading in today?”

  Picking a small notebook from his hip pocket, Jesse brushed his thumb across his tongue and leafed through the pages. It took a moment for him to find the right sheet. “Hmm… looks like we’ve got most of the departments in today. I’m sure a few assistants will be here as well. The director isn’t scheduled to arrive until the beginning of next week.”

  Jesse saw his father’s forehead furrow as Holt pushed his hat back from his face. “That’s a good… five days from now?”

  Nodding, Jesse understood his father’s question, it was a strange timeline. “He’s coming in from Spain, so we’ll get ‘im when we get him. His assistant will be here sometime today.”

  Holt scoffed. “That man makes me itch. Don’t know how a body can be such a grouch.”

  Jesse couldn’t really argue. Herb Macklin’s assistant was an odd duck who seemed to have an issue with anything natural, turning up his nose at everything on the property. “You’d think he would have bowed out of this particular production, but I guess he takes his job more seriously than he does his comfort. We should be prepared to have him up all of our asses while he’s here.”

  His father’s huff was telling. “You know how your mama doesn’t care to hear that kind of language, son.”

  “I’m a grown man.”

  “Well, she doesn’t seem to care to remember that either. You’ll always be her baby boy, just like Frank…”

  Jesse saw the way reality hit his father. The way his joking smile stilled and sank into a pensive frown. It had been a few years since they’d lost Frank in the Easter Offensive in Vietnam, but the loss was still as visceral as it had been then, perhaps even more so now. When a thought, a mention, would disrupt an otherwise ‘normal’ day and yank them back in time.

  The gaping hole in their souls that they were sure had started to heal would be torn back open and leave them grasping for a hold on reality.

  “Well,” Holt’s voice was forced and booming, “you know your mother expects you up at the house for supper.”

  Jesse nodded. There was no need to argue the point, cooking was one of the things that he hadn’t quite learned from his mother. Having her cooking to look forward to at the end of the day was one thing he didn’t want to give up.

  “I’ll be there.”

  With a sharp nod, Holt turned to leave and had to reach out and catch himself on the porch post. His stuttering movements made the man look much older than his actual age and his flagging energy dragged the rowel of his boot over the edge of the step at the end of the porch.

  Jesse didn’t say anything. His father was a proud man who wasn’t taking the realities of aging well.

  When his dad stopped and turned back to look at him, Jesse answered immediately.
“Yeah?”

  The older man blew out a breath and sighed. “Let’s not mention Frank tonight, okay?”

  Nodding, Jesse reassured him. “Sure. No problem.”

  Holt mumbled something under his breath as he walked away and Jesse felt it like a weight dropping on his shoulders.

  Frank hadn’t just been his older brother. Frank was Jesse’s hero for as long as he could remember.

  Their father had been the larger than life cowboy that stood shoulder to shoulder with men like John Wayne and Burt Lancaster and didn’t lose anything by comparison.

  But his older brother was the one who’d crawled through brush with him and built forts in the trees and stronghold’s behind piles of rocks on their property. Like the legendary outlaw brothers that they’d been named after, they were as thick as thieves.

  And it was that close relationship that had been the reason that Jesse had signed up to join the military to fight in Vietnam to follow his brother.

  Frank was also the reason that his parents dissolved into tears unexpectedly from time to time.

  His father cleared his throat and looked away down toward the edge of the set before he lifted his eyes to meet Jesse’s again.

  “You’re almost too tall for this movie, you know.”

  “Then they can put me on a short horse,” he couldn’t help but smile at his father’s expression. “I’ll be in the background dealing with the horses. Will they have a problem with that?”

  His father’s patented glare didn’t fool him. He was worried as he always was, but his father wasn’t really upset with him, just the situation.

  “Just remember that you’re the ramrod on this movie. You’ve got the responsibilities on your shoulders.” The huff of sound from his father’s lips didn’t bode well for either of them. “People are going to forget from time to time, probably come to me by accident.”

  “Sure,” Jesse understood, “you’ve been the one they’ve gone to for years. That doesn’t bother me.”

  “Good to know.” Holt’s mouth tipped up at one corner. “The stunt coordinator, Red Barnes, called up to the house last night after supper. They’re sending Randy Calhoun up in a few days.”

  “Randy Calhoun… the actor?” His brow furrowing, Jesse focused his attention on his father, shutting out the continuing rattle of trucks heading down the street. Moving closer, he dropped down from the porch to street level and moved to where his father was standing. “That’s pretty early, isn’t it?”

  When Holt looked up at him, peeking out from under his eyebrows, there was a hint of mischief mixed in with the worry. “It seems as though the star of this movie isn’t much of a cowboy.”

  Jesse didn’t have to ask what his father meant. Holt wasn’t a man to leave much hanging.

  “The only horse that man’s ever been on was one attached to a carousel. The director seemed to be under the impression that Calhoun was an accomplished rider, but after a few pointed questions they got to the truth. He’s going to need a miracle to help him get comfortable enough on a mount to make him look like he belongs in a Western.

  “They’re going to push back any riding scenes until they can get him sittin’ straight in the saddle.”

  Jesse shook his head and sighed. “And just how do they plan on accomplishing that miracle?”

  Holt slapped his hand on Jesse’s shoulder and gave his son a look of pride. “Well that’s up to you, son. Since you’re the most seasoned wrangler on the picture, you’re going to be personally in charge of Mr. Calhoun and take him from a weak-ass greenhorn and make him look like he’s a natural in the saddle.”

  Jesse didn’t like the sound of what he was hearing. “I’ve got a lot on my plate already.”

  “They’ve offered an extra incentive, Jesse. I think it’ll be worth your time.”

  “Money isn’t everything. Do we have any idea what kind of man he is?”

  He saw the worry in Holt’s eyes as well. It was one thing to put a man in a saddle, but to get that man to ride like he was comfortable there meant he’d have to be comfortable with the horse.

  And horses were smarter than most humans.

  “I wish you’d talked to me before you agreed to it, Pop.”

  Holt’s hand slowly dropped away from his shoulder. “It wasn’t something they asked, son. They told me it’s part of the deal.”

  Oh, Jesse wanted to argue with his father, but this seemed to be something that was coming from the production company and it had been quite some time since they’d had a feature filmed there on the property. As much as they were a working ranch and had several avenues to bring in funds, the fees from this film would go a long way to ease their worries over the waning numbers in the ranch accounts. If that deal now included turning this Hollywood dude into a real cowboy, then that’s what he was going to do.

  “I just hope he knows which end of the horse is the head and which one is the-”

  “Ass end?” His father gave a little hoot of laughter. “I dunno, son, but I’m thinking you’ll figure it out.”

  Jesse turned and looked at the town from one end to the other remembering what it was like when he was a kid. Chasing after his brother in a never-ending game of pretend, darting in and out of the crowds of crew and actors.

  The thought brought a ghost of a smile to his lips.

  “I never was much of a teacher. That was Frank’s job. He’s the one that made sure I stayed in the saddle and didn’t mess around too much.”

  Beside him, his father nodded in silence, his own wizened eyes moving up and down the long dirt street. “Frank was a good teacher. Lord knows I didn’t have the patience to get you to mind the rules and the horses.” Shifting on the balls of his feet, Holt let out a short huff of air. “But now you can take the lessons you learned from him and make this work.”

  Jesse let the thought sink in. If Frank was still alive, this would be his job. This was what his brother had been born to do. Be the man in charge. Do what it took to keep things moving forward for the ranch. To be something more than the younger brother with a knack for getting in trouble, but not out of it.

  Yeah, that had been Frank’s job too.

  But Frank was gone. Laid to rest in the family plot and would have likely turned over in his grave knowing that this kind of responsibly was falling on Jesse’s shoulders.

  He knew his father was waiting for some kind of acknowledgement, some kind of agreement.

  “I’ll do my best, sir.” He put enough respect into the feel of the words and gave it the kind of gravitas that was very much a part of his brother. Still, he couldn’t help the half-smile that turned up his mouth at one end. “But if he does something stupid and breaks his own neck, that’s his problem.”

  Muttering under his breath, Holt clapped a hand down on Jesse’s shoulder before walking away. “Lord help us all.”

  Letting out a long sigh, Jesse went for a walk around the town. If he was going to have to teach the man how to be a passable rider, he was doing to need a plan. A damn good one.

  And walking around the property always served to clear his head. The air, the trees, the acres of grass and hills... all of it gave him some measure of peace, and he needed that to set his head on straight and figure out just how this was going to work.

  ETTA

  The Golden Vista Country Club was buzzing with activity, but not everyone was enjoying themselves. Henrietta Bradford had a pleasant smile on her face, but it didn’t reflect the complex mix of feelings roiling around inside her.

  “Miss?” A waiter stopped at her side, holding out a silver tray with champagne flutes. “Would you like a glass?”

  “Oh, thank you.” With a broad grin, she reached out and took one of the elegant glassware stems in her hand, enjoying the sight of the lightly colored liquid shimmering under the lights of the chandelier in the ballroom.

  Tipping the glass to touch the edge against her lip, the champagne had only touched her tongue when the glass was pulled from her fingers.<
br />
  A hand clamped around her upper arm and pulled her along without an explanation, at least until they stepped outside into the early evening air.

  Once her arm was free, Henrietta turned around and stared. She’d known that it had been her father who had taken the drink and spirited her away from the party. She didn’t know anyone else who would have dared to touch her in such a way.

  “Dad-”

  “Don’t you ‘Dad’ me, young lady.” Edward Bradford tossed back the contents of the glass and flung the flute away. The soft explosion of glass made her wince but had no visible affect on her father. “You’re not allowed alcohol.”

  “Not allowed?” She would have laughed if she didn’t know that would only make things worse. “I’m twenty-four.”

  “You’re my little girl.”

  “And I’m still twenty-four. I’m old enough to drink a glass of champagne.”

  Her father’s eyes narrowed and she felt like a mouse under the watchful eye of a hawk.

  “I was only going to have one. The party is boring.”

  “The party isn’t about having fun, Henrietta. This is a function where we get to meet and continue relationships with my customers, suppliers, and investors.”

  She could almost recite his argument like scripture. Her father treated business and her knowledge of the institution as if it was a religion. He would tell her over and over again all the things that he had learned about the business.

  Why? She didn’t know. It didn’t seem to make any sense. Whenever she’d try to talk to him about the facts, he shoved into her head relentlessly, it didn’t seem to matter.

  “All I want you to do is move around the room, speak to these people, smile and laugh. They love to see you.”