by Liz Isaacson
“Gene and Xander think I’m right,” Owen said as he washed his hands. “And Dad was livid.”
“This is why I live in Dog Valley,” Zach said. “You’ve already driven me away. The family, this feud, all the hatred. I don’t get it.”
“I told you to end things with her.”
“I’m in love with her,” Zach said, realizing the words were a huge mistake the moment he said them.
Owen started laughing, the sound crazed and powerful. Zach would never get the sound out of his ears, and he stalked away from his brother. The feelings of peace and love up at the lodge felt a lifetime away, and he craved that sense of family and belonging more than he ever had.
He hadn’t even known a family like that could exist. His had always been so dysfunctional and removing himself from it hadn’t done what he’d hoped it would. Sure, maybe he’d enjoyed a few decades of semi-peace, only going to visit the family farm on holidays or other special occasions.
He’d worked hard after the divorce to be involved in his children’s lives, and he had good relationships with them. Lindsey, Abby, and Paul didn’t know about the feud, but all of Owen’s children did. All of Gene’s. All of Xander’s. It would never be over.
Zach would forever be the black sheep, and if he kept Celia in his life, she would never be welcome, just as Owen had said.
“You can’t run from the past,” Owen called after him.
Zach spun back. “Of course you can’t,” he said. “But you don’t have to keep living in it either.”
“They stole from us!” Owen yelled.
Zach marched toward him, his fists curling. He hated these feelings of contention, but he’d asked Owen to leave more than once. “They bought the land where the water rights were. Bought it.”
“They could’ve shared with us.” Owen’s chest heaved. His eyes flashed dark fire. His fingers balled into fists too. Zach had been slugged by his brother in the past, and he was too old to take it now.
He stopped several feet away. “But they didn’t, Owen. That was their choice, a long time ago. And we’ve let it poison us for generations. Too long.” He shook his head. “For far too long.”
“We’ve always been two steps behind them since,” Owen said.
“So what?” Zach challenged. “Have you not had enough to eat? Did your kids go without? Heck, did we ever go without? Because I don’t remember that if we did.”
His brother’s jaw clenched, and Zach shook his head. “Let it go.”
“I can’t.”
Zach didn’t know how to help Owen. It seemed impossible that they’d been raised by the same parents. “Then just go,” he said. “Leave me alone. I’ll leave you alone.”
“You’d do that? Cut us all out of your life?”
“I didn’t cut you out,” Zach said, his frustration rising again. “You’ve done that to me.” He fell back a step, and then another. “Abby’s calling in ten minutes. Please. Just leave.”
Owen nodded once, then twice. “Fine. But Dad wants you to come see him.”
“Fine,” Zach said, though he would not be doing that. At this point, he’d say anything to get Owen to leave.
“He said he’d drive up here if you didn’t, and you know he can’t be doing that.”
“Then tell him not to bother,” Zach said.
“You’d be responsible for him trying to come see you? He could break another hip.”
“He’s eighty-six-years-old,” Zach said. “He makes his own choices.”
“I’ll tell him you’re coming.”
“You do that.”
Owen stared at him for several long seconds, and he still looked like he’d rip Zach limb from limb. Then he turned and stomped out the door that led to the garage.
Relief washed through Zach, but he didn’t experience any happiness. Only grief that his brother and his father were so hard-hearted.
He opened his laptop, and Abby called only thirty seconds later. “Dad,” she said in her unique voice, the strange tonalities of it echoing through the kitchen.
“Abby.” He jumped over in front of the laptop, the kitchen sink still running. “I was just getting a drink.” He did the sign language, and added, “Be right back.” He filled a glass with water, turned off the sink, and sat down in front of the laptop. “Okay, I’m here. Tell me about Michael.”
She smiled and laughed, her signs flashing like lightning. She’d gotten so much faster since going to school in D.C., and Zach didn’t communicate with her regularly enough to be able to read that fast.
“Slow down,” he said with a chuckle. “And yes, I went right for the jugular. You can’t just mention a man and expect me not to have questions.”
Abby made an exaggerated show of rolling her eyes, but she did slow down her signs. He was able to keep up as she told him about a guy she’d met at work. He’d ordered a pork enchilada and gotten a taco, and Abby had been so impressed with how nice he was about it, that she’d “maybe started flirting with him.”
His friends all left, but he’d stayed during the rest of her shift, and they’d talked, and walked, and he’d asked her out.
“Did you kiss him that night?”
“Dad,” she said, her voice coming over the speakers again.
“You did,” Zach said, surprise moving through him. Lindsey had always been the flirtatious one, with plenty of dates. His father-heart had always hurt for Abby, but she seemed so happy now. So, so happy.
He’s a nice guy, Abby signed. We’ve been seeing each other for a couple of months now.
“And you’re just telling me?” Zach continued to sign without talking. You seem so happy, talking about him.
I am happy, Dad.
Did he have anything to do with your decision to stay in D.C. this summer? She’d always come home for summer break, and he’d always gotten to see her for half of that.
Maybe, Abby said with a smile.
“Right,” Zach said with a laugh. “Maybe. I see how it is.”
What about you and Celia? Abby signed. You’ve been ten times happier than usual.
“Ten times?” Zach rolled his eyes now. “I’m sure that’s not true.”
Abby paused, her eyes somehow seeing things other humans couldn’t. It was like the Lord had made her extra-observant to make up for her lack of hearing. “Dad,” she said. “What happened?” She signed as she spoke, and Zach loved the sound of her voice, flawed as it was.
“Nothing happened,” he said, signing even slower now. He didn’t want Abby to know about the feud, or his fight with his brother, or that he’d fallen in love with Celia. “I met everyone she works with up at the lodge today,” he said instead, continuing to tell her about Rose’s babies and how everyone there had come together in a moment of need.
Abby let the topic of Celia go, but Zach knew she’d text him all week. They signed off, and Zach leaned away from the laptop, utterly spent.
And when his phone rang, and Celia’s name lit up the screen, he didn’t have the heart to answer it.
Chapter Nineteen
Celia spent the new few days at the lodge or Rose’s house, stocking up the fridge and freezers in both places with plenty of food. She loved holding the tiny babies in the hospital, where everyone had been transported once the triplets were born.
Rose had named them Collin, Jackson, and Clover, and Celia smiled every time she thought about them.
Reagan’s wedding was only two weeks away now, and Celia needed to dig in and get everything done. She couldn’t get Zach to pick up the phone, so she just texted him that she couldn’t come up to Saltgrass for a couple of weeks, and he’d said, That’s fine.
Celia scrolled through her texts to his name and tapped on it. He hadn’t initiated any conversations since the day at the lodge, and something writhed in her blood. When she’d gotten busy with the wedding before, he’d brought her food. Texted her all evening. Told her how much he missed her.
This silence felt strange, and she dialed him a
gain. He didn’t answer. Again. She hadn’t left any messages before, but she did now. “Hey,” she said, unsure of what else to say. “I’m just…I haven’t heard your voice in a while, and I miss you. Will you call me please?”
She hung up and turned back to the boxes that had come that day. Reagan should be coming out to help unpack the things they’d ordered online, but Celia didn’t want to wait. She sliced through the tape and looked inside at all the bags of butter mints.
Reagan had chosen navy blue, eggplant, and silver as her colors, and she’d found a website where she could order candy in any colors she wanted.
“You started already?” Reagan asked, coming up beside Celia. “Hey, Mom.”
“How’s Dale?” she asked.
“Good. The tuxedo fit, and he’s got it now. So that’s good news.”
“And we’ve got the final dress fitting tomorrow,” Celia said. “I’m doing all the grocery shopping for the cake this week too, just to make sure I can get everything I need.”
“Where’s your checklist?” Reagan teased as she pulled out a bag of silver-tinted mints. “Have the mirrors come yet?”
“I haven’t seen them,” Celia said. They’d rented a venue, but all that included was the space, the sound system, and the tables and chairs. All the décor was up to them, and she and Reagan had put together something Celia hoped would be elegant but not cost her an arm and a leg.
“We have the candles. The confetti. The mints and chocolates.” Reagan ticked the items off on her fingers. “The Roundhouse Gardens are providing the refreshments.”
“Besides the cake.”
“Right.” Reagan looked at her mother, and their gazes held. “Mom.” She drew in a deep breath. “Thank you for all you’ve done. All you’re doing.”
Emotion welled up inside Celia, sticking somewhere in the back of her throat. “Of course,” she said. “I hope you only get married once.” She didn’t want to project any of her fears onto Reagan, so she left it at that. “And it should be special, even if you don’t care about the details.”
“Who doesn’t care about details?” Ruth asked, entering the house through the back door, Grizz behind her. The dog went right over to his water bowl and started lapping while Ruth joined them at the table.
“Ooh, butter mints.” She reached for a package and hesitated. “Can I open this and have one?”
“I don’t know,” Reagan said. “You’re the one who knew how many bags to order.”
Ruth grinned at her sister. “Then we have enough for me to eat a few right now.” She tore into the bag and popped one of the dark blue mints into her mouth. “Mm.” She bent to unclip the leash from Grizz’s collar. “Oh, Mom, I ran into someone on our walk this morning.”
“Oh?” Celia knew a lot of people in Coral Canyon, as she’d lived here for her entire life.
“Yeah,” Ruth said. “And he wasn’t very nice. Told me to tell you to end things with your boyfriend.”
“I asked him who he was, but he just drove off.”
“What was he driving?”
“A truck. Black truck.”
A cowboy then. Definitely a Zuckerman.
She shrugged, hoping she did a good job playing it off as nothing. But Reagan had stilled, and she looked at Celia. “Who would tell you to break up with Zach?”
Celia sighed and pulled out a chair. She sank into it and stared at the tabletop. “Girls, my family…a long time ago, my family did something to the Zuckermans that they haven’t been able to let go of. There’s sort of a feud between Abbotts and Zuckermans.”
“A feud? Those still exist?” Ruth poured a cup of coffee and set it in front of her mother.
“Apparently.” Celia said. “And I can’t get Zach to pick up the phone when I call him.”
“That’s not good,” Reagan said, abandoning the unpacking and sitting at the table too. “How long has it been since you’ve spoken to him? Actually spoken to him?”
“A few days.”
“When?” Reagan asked.
Celia met her eye. “Sunday.”
“Five days,” she looked at Ruth. “Crisis mode.”
“Crisis mode?” Celia asked, looking back and forth between her daughters. “What does that mean?”
“How did you leave things with Zach on Sunday?” Ruth asked.
“Fine,” she said. “Rose had the triplets, and he had to leave to go do his farm chores.”
“And did you call him that night?”
“Yes,” she said slowly. “And he didn’t answer. But he was talking with his daughter, and maybe he was busy.” Celia wanted him to be busy. Be on the call with Abby. Simply be too tired to talk. Something.
“He’s not avoiding me,” Celia said. “Is he?”
“How many times have you called?” Reagan asked.
“I hate all these questions,” Celia said. “You two are like detectives.” She lifted her coffee mug to her lips, her nerves already feeling jittery.
“How many times, Mom?”
“Every day,” she muttered to her hot drink. “But that’s normal for us. We talk every day.”
“Okay,” Ruth said, pulling in a breath. “So let’s recap. See? That wasn’t a question.” She grinned at Celia, but her dark eyes remained serious. “You’ve been dating this guy for three months. You’re at a talk-everyday-on-the-phone level, and you’ve called five times now, where he hasn’t answered.” She punctuated her statement with raised eyebrows.
Celia hated how that sounded. “He’s avoiding me.”
Reagan nodded. “But the real question is why. What happened on Sunday night that you don’t know about?”
“Who was in the black truck?” Ruth mused.
Celia knew who was in the black truck. “His brother, I’m assuming,” she said. “He has three of them, and they all still have very strong feelings about the feud.”
“What about Uncle Mack and Uncle Lennox?” Ruth asked. “Maybe they can do something.”
“They’ve tried.” Celia ran her hands through her hair, a strong feeling of desperation pulling through her. “I knew this would be a problem from the beginning. I was stupid enough to believe it wouldn’t be.”
“Mom.” Reagan put her hand over Celia’s. “You’re not stupid.”
“What has Zach said about his family?” Ruth asked.
“He said they don’t get to decide.” Celia stood up, took keyed up to sit still for another second. “But they obviously do. It’s fine. I’m fine.” She brushed her hair out of her face. “I left him a message today. Let’s finish getting this stuff unpacked so we can move down the list.”
Ruth and Reagan didn’t argue, but they didn’t jump up and start unboxing either. Celia didn’t look at them, and the silence in the kitchen was almost as bad as what she was experiencing with Zach.
“I wish your dad could be here for the wedding,” she whispered, sudden tears coming to her eyes.
“Mom.” Reagan wrapped her arms around Celia, and she had to give up trying to take mints out of the box. Ruth hugged them both, and Celia let herself cry.
For Brandon.
For Zach.
And for herself.
After the dress fitting. The grocery shopping. The cooking. The cleaning. The final checklisting, Celia dressed in a pair of slacks that made her feel comfortable and a purple blouse that made her feel sexy.
Then she drove to Dog Valley.
Zach had not called her back. He had not texted her. It had been nine days since the last time she’d seen him or really spoken to him, and she could not go another day with this silence.
Reagan was getting married on Sunday and then moving hundreds of miles away, and she wanted Zach at her side at the wedding. If she had to go through it alone…she couldn’t even imagine that.
She hadn’t had to imagine it, because she had Zach. Her strong, steady Zach. What had happened on Sunday?
Normally, she’d text him as she turned, and he’d open the garage door for her so she co
uld pull in. He’d meet her at the trunk and take the bulk of the groceries into the house.
Today, she pulled into his driveway, noting that his yard looked freshly mowed. The bushes trimmed and everything exactly right. The man had an eye for detail, and she sure did like coming to this farmhouse.
She’d stood on these steps before and rung the doorbell. Her anxiety shot into the sky as she stood there and waited. He didn’t come to the door, and she knocked and rang the doorbell again.
When he still didn’t come, but she heard a dog barking somewhere behind the house, she went around the side and through the gate into the backyard. The farm spread before her, and one of Zach’s golden retrievers came jogging toward her.
“Hey, girl.” She scratched along the dog’s head and scanned the landscape behind her. “Where’s Zach, huh?” She wasn’t sure how he would react to her showing up. He was a smart guy. He hadn’t forgotten to call her, and he knew he’d cut her out of his life.
What she wanted to know was why.
The dog trotted off and turned back, looking at Celia like, Well? Come on. I’ll take you to him.
She followed the dog, noting how everything on the farm seemed to be inside a chalk outline. A few goats grazed in a small field, and the henhouse looked freshly painted.
The dog went into a big barn at the end of the lane, and Celia hesitated just outside the door. “Zach?” she called, and something hit the floor inside the barn.
A few moments and several footsteps later, and Zach appeared in the doorway, a dirty towel in his hands. “Celia.”
So many things rushed through her. Rage. Fear. Hope. Love. “What’s going on?” she asked. “You haven’t taken any of my calls in a long time.” Her voice stayed steady, but it sounded whiny to her ears. She didn’t want to be whiny.
He ducked his head, and Celia looked at the towel. Blood seeped through it, and she said, “You cut yourself.”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s go take care of it in the house.” She turned and walked away, overly relieved that Zach came with her.