Danny sat back on his heels. “Hey, Tag,” he called.
Tag looked over. Danny waved, a gesture the boy mirrored with a small smile. He was a good-looking kid. Danny wished he realized it.
“Is that Desmond Sommersby’s kid?”
Danny didn’t realize Sam was as close as he was until he spoke. He glanced over at him. “Yeah. Tag.”
“I figured it must be. Not a lot of kids named Taggert.”
“They couldn’t name him something normal like Brian, or Michael?” Danny asked. “They had to hang him with Taggert?”
“His grandfather’s name was Taggert.”
Danny looked more fully at Sam. “You know the family?”
“Everyone from around here knows the family. They own damn near everything that isn’t nailed down.”
Danny went back to pulling up the weeds. “Do you know Tag’s dad?”
Sam nodded. “Desmond. He’s not a bad guy.” Danny scoffed. “He isn’t,” Sam reiterated. He lowered his voice. “I just doubt he knows what to do with a kid like Tag. Des was a big jock in high school and college. I can’t imagine they have a lot to talk about.”
Danny mused on that as he yanked up more weeds. That had certainly been one of the problems between him and his dad. Ryan Redmond had gone to UC Davis on a baseball scholarship, and Danny couldn’t even catch one. Of course, the fact he’d been fucking their pool guy at fourteen had just put an exclamation point on their dysfunction.
“What’s up with that?” Jose gestured toward the group. “Juvenile delinquents or something?”
“No,” Sam answered before Danny had a chance to. “Just kids who need someone to talk to. Audrey, the lady who owned the house, used to do it, and Cal has decided to continue. It’s what she wanted.”
Jose nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Kids need someone to listen to them.”
“Yeah.” Sam attacked some deeply seeded weeds with a line between his brows. “They do.”
Danny grabbed a metal weeder and dug down under the deep roots of the clump Sam was struggling with. After a couple of sharp jabs, the weeds came free in Sam’s hand, and he looked up.
“Thanks.”
“Sure.”
Danny looked away from the knowing, probing gaze.
They worked on in companionable silence. The breeze was sweet on his face and the sun felt good on his shoulders. The sound of traffic was a soft accompaniment to Jose and Leroy bickering nearby. They were as bad as an old married couple. The soft laughter of the group of kids nearby carried to him, and occasionally Cal’s voice. Peace settled over him. Home was a good place to be.
He should have known it couldn’t last.
“So this is where you’re spending your days. I’d wondered.”
Danny straightened, but his eyes arrested on Sam’s suddenly hard face.
The broad shoulders and neck were rigid, and the tendon along the side of Sam’s throat looked strung tight. He didn’t turn, just hacked at the weeds with new vigor. “The girls knew where I was.”
Danny heard a deep sigh. “I thought you were in town visiting your mother.”
“I see Mom every morning and every night. That’s all she can handle right now.”
“I hoped you’d changed. I’m disappointed.”
Sam still didn’t turn, but Danny did, and winced against the glare glinting off a full, luxurious head of silver hair.
He’d only seen Bernard Ignatius a time or two, but he knew the bullish head and broad shoulders. He’d bet the good councilman had been very attractive in his youth; he was tall and broad through the shoulders, and his eyes were the same warm brown as his son’s. But otherwise he and Sam couldn’t have looked less alike. Danny saw the calculating nature of the disappointment in the man’s narrowed eyes, and remembered the carefully worded but nevertheless threatening language of the letter they’d received.
“Mom doesn’t want me changing her and bathing her,” Sam said. Discussing his mom clearly pained him. “Leslie and Dana told me it was better if I visited a couple of times a day, and I sit with Mom so they can have a break. That’s how they want it.”
“Well, of course that’s what they’re going to say,” Ignatius retorted. “They’re working tirelessly while you’re doing...whatever this is.”
“It’s called gardening, Dad. And I’ve discussed this with the girls.” Sam hacked at the weeds, although now he was pulverizing rather than removing them. “They don’t seem to have a problem with it.”
“That’s because they know what they should be doing for their mother, what they owe her.”
Now Sam sat back on his heels, carefully removing his gloves one hand at a time. His large hands were trembling. Leroy and Jose were both still working, but they had matching scowls on their faces.
Sam pushed to his feet. He had several inches on his father, who looked like the traveling gnome in comparison. The only thing missing was the Santa beard and the pointed hat. Danny watched them warily.
“What do you want, Dad?” Sam’s voice was mild.
Ignatius merely shrugged. “I wanted to see what was more important than your mother.” He glanced down at Danny, silver brows arching. “I believe I see something that might have caught your attention.”
Danny bristled.
“I’m working.” Sam’s voice remained level. “Something I cleared with the girls before I took the job. And Mom knows what I’m doing. She said I should, so that I wasn’t just sitting around all day.”
Ignatius frowned. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying, Samuel. She’s on so much morphine right now—”
“I know how much morphine she’s on.” Sam’s jaw flexed. “I know how much, and when. I give it to her twice a day. And I hold her hand, and I talk to her. And when she told me not to just sit there and watch her die, that I should take this job because she wanted me to, I believed her.” He paused. “She and Audrey were friends, in case you’ve forgotten.”
Ignatius studied his son’s face dispassionately. “So they were. Your mother is a uniquely...open-minded and forgiving person.”
Danny frowned. Was that some sort of veiled insult aimed at Audrey?
“Mom always has had a mind of her own.” Sam’s lips twitched.
“Yes, well.” Ignatius looked out over the lawn, his eyes landing on the teenagers grouped in a circle. “I see the parade of disenfranchised castaways has begun again. And here we’d hoped it was over.” His voice carried, and several young faces looked their way. Anger swelled in Danny.
“Hey.” He pushed to his feet, but Sam had already taken a step between his father and Cal’s group.
“If you’ve got a beef with me, Dad, that’s one thing, but you aren’t going to insult those kids because I won’t be managed.”
Ignatius’s brown eyes widened. The expression was as artificial as anything Danny had ever seen. “Why would I want to manage you?”
“You’ve always wanted to manage me.” Sam sounded weary. “What I did, where I worked, who I dated.”
Ignatius spread his hands in a placating manner. “Just because I wanted my son to be something other than a gardener, and live a productive life, something a father could be proud of...”
“Everyone knows how deeply I’ve disappointed you. Look, this is an old argument. Having it again isn’t going to serve any purpose. Particularly not here.”
Ignatius seemed to become aware of the attention they were getting, and he sniffed. “I did want to speak to you at home, but you never seem to be around the house...”
“Gee, I wonder why?” Jose muttered, and Leroy nudged him with a warning look.
“If you need something to do, son, replant your mother’s rose garden.” Ignatius was almost pleading. “She’d like that. I just don’t understand why you’re working here, of all places.”
Danny glared. “What’s wrong with here?”
Ignatius looked at him, his distaste unmistakable. “Who are you?”
Danny crossed his ar
ms, mirroring Sam’s posture. “My name is Dan Redmond. I’m one of the owners of Neverwood.”
Ignatius looked mildly interested. “Ah. Are you the former drug addict or the convicted felon?”
Sam stiffened, and Danny gaped. How could he possibly know that? He felt exposed, stripped naked, and heat washed over his face and neck. Cal and Devon knew, the bank knew, and fucking Angus knew, but... He inhaled sharply. Angus. Ignatius had learned it from Angus, the son of a bitch.
“I’m the former drug addict...” Cal’s voice was level and as stern as Danny had ever heard it. He had approached them quietly from behind and stood by Danny. “...and I think it’s time for you to leave.”
Ignatius bristled. “I’m having a conversation with my son. I didn’t come here for a confrontation.”
Behind them, Jose coughed, and it sounded remarkably like “Bullshit.”
Cal stood firm. “I still believe it would be better if you go, Mr. Councilman. This is neither the time nor the place for a family discussion, and you’ve insulted my group loud enough for them to hear you.”
He pretended surprise. “I did?”
“Jesus, Dad.” Sam groaned.
“I’m really going to have to insist,” Cal went on.
Ignatius’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not exactly in a position to insist I do anything, young man.”
“You’re in my front yard. That puts me in position to insist. You’ve insulted my kids and harassed people who are working for me. I believe that gives me grounds to ask you, politely, to leave.”
Danny wanted to say, “Yeah, what he said!” He managed to rein it in. Ignatius’s face was stony. He opened his mouth.
“Unless, of course,” Cal went on mildly, “you’d like for me to call the police?”
For a moment he thought Ignatius was going to continue to argue. But he took note of the interested eyes looking his direction. He forced himself, visibly, to smile. “I believe you’d find, young man, that any officer who responded would be someone I know by name who would be less than enthusiastic about escorting me from the premises. However—” he held up his hand even though no one had been about to speak, “—I’ll leave now. I truly just wanted to speak to Sam, but we can talk at home.”
“I look forward to it.” Sam’s voice was thick with irony.
“Yeah, I’ll just bet,” Jose muttered. This time, when Leroy elbowed him, he rubbed his side and muttered, “What?”
Sam’s father paused and looked back at Cal and Danny, studying them. He smiled thinly. “I’m sure we’ll meet again in another venue. Good afternoon.” He walked through the gates, and Danny watched as he climbed into his black sedan and drove away. They all watched him leave, even the kids in the lawn chairs. Tension remained thick in his wake.
“Well, that was fun,” Danny said finally.
Leroy chuckled and Cal exhaled. He gave Sam a wry look. “I thought you said your being here would keep him away?”
As far as teasing went it was a pretty mild attempt, but it did ease the tension all around. Except for what Sam carried.
His shoulders rounded, and Danny was astonished by how defeated he looked. “I’m so sorry, Cal. Particularly about...” He didn’t seem to know how to continue, but he didn’t have to.
“It’s okay, Sam. It’s not a secret. I’m under a doctor’s care, and the kids and their parents know. I’m not ashamed of it.”
Left hanging was the “felon” remark, but Danny couldn’t bring himself to utter a sound.
Cal went back to the kids, and Sam and Danny went back to work, but the pleasure was gone from the day. Sam was unusually quiet, working with his head down and his jaw stiff, and, mirroring his mood, Jose and Leroy kept the squabbling to a minimum. When the sun began to slip behind the thick grove of towering pines and the air started to chill, Sam quietly told his guys to start cleaning up and lifted the unopened bags of fertilizer onto the hand truck. He pushed it toward the shed, and Danny watched him, taking in the tense shoulders and the stiff jaw.
Jose shouldered a partial bag and followed Sam.
“What’s his old man’s problem?” Danny asked Leroy.
“It goes back years. He doesn’t like that Sam’s a blue-collar guy, doesn’t like that he moved to the other side of the state. He doesn’t like that he can’t control him.” He met Danny’s eyes. “Mostly, though, it’s the gay thing.”
Danny didn’t speak. He swallowed, his gut clenching.
“No one who knows Sam cares,” Leroy went on. “We don’t care. Sam is a good boss, and a good man. As good as they come. No one cares who he sleeps with, other than his father. It’s sad, you know? He should be proud of Sam, of his building his own business, of making it a success.” He shoved his gloves into his back pocket and picked up the bucket he’d dropped the tools into. “I always figured you judge a man by what he does, not who he does.” He shrugged one sloped shoulder, then followed Jose to the shed.
Danny stared after him, quite certain there had been a message in that little speech. And it hadn’t been aimed at Sam.
Chapter Seven
Jose and Leroy had arrived in Leroy’s rundown truck that morning, and they left the same way. Danny hesitated, then stuck his head in the shed to see Sam counting the sacks of fertilizer that were stacked against the back wall. Danny entered, pausing just inside the door.
“Hey.”
Sam looked up, then quickly away. “Hey.” He tossed his gloves on the stack of bags. “We’re going to need more fertilizer if we’re going to go all the way to the fence and across the front of the property. And we haven’t even started the beds around the south side of the porch.”
“I’ll tell Cal to order it from the garden center.”
Sam nodded. “I should go. I need to see my mom.” He started for the door. Danny stepped in front of him, surprising him.
“How is she?”
Sam looked into his eyes, then sighed. “Not great. She has end-stage ovarian cancer. The cancer has metastasized to her bones, and she’s in almost constant pain. She’s lost so much weight that she’s skin and bones.”
“Oh, poor Giselle...”
Sometimes, when Audrey’s voice came out of nowhere, it startled Danny. This was one of those times. He hadn’t been expecting it, and he flinched. Sam misinterpreted his reaction completely.
“Jesus, Danny.” He reached out and grabbed his hand. “I’m sorry.”
Danny frowned. “For what?”
“For being an insensitive ass. Christ, you and your brothers just lost your mom to cancer, and here I am, going on...”
Danny squeezed his fingers, hard. “Stop.” His voice was firm. “There’s a difference, Sam. We didn’t have to watch it. And I think Mom did that on purpose.”
“Yes.”
Danny’s throat felt tight. She’d been protecting them, again.
“Sam, if your mom told you to come work here, did you ever think maybe she had a reason? She told you she didn’t want you to sit there and...well, sit there, right?”
Sam swallowed and nodded.
“She wouldn’t. She adores Sam...”
“I think that was why Audrey didn’t tell us anything, she didn’t want us to know. I mean, I know there’s stuff cancer does that a mother isn’t going to want her son to see. It sort of steals their dignity, doesn’t it?”
Sam continued to stare into his eyes, and returned the pressure of Danny’s fingers, like they were a lifeline.
“Do you think maybe—she’d rather you remembered her as she was?”
“Oh, Danny. Yes.”
Danny saw both the grief and dawning understanding in Sam’s eyes.
“How old are you?” he whispered.
Danny blinked. “Twenty-one. Why? How old are you?”
“Twenty-eight,” he answered. “But you seem a whole lot more mature than I do.”
Danny shook his head. “I’m not. But even I’m going to get one right once in a while.” He gently extricated his hand, the t
ingles running up his arm reminding him how long it had been since he’d been touched. And why.
Sam took a step closer and Danny had to look up into his face. “I’ll bet you get more right than one every once in a while. And I’ll bet you’ve lived through a world of shit to be such an old soul.”
“My old soul...” Audrey’s voice was softer, fading away.
Danny smiled weakly. “That’s what Mom used to call me.” He shrugged. “I thought she was full of crap.”
For the first time since his father’s appearance, Sam smiled. “Yeah, I’ll bet you did.”
They were standing close now, bodies leaning in instinctively. Sam smelled of sun and topsoil and pine, and Danny felt a surprising spark of longing that spread through his chest. He looked up into Sam’s eyes, and wanted to kiss him so much he ached with it. The idea that Audrey might be right there, watching, didn’t matter a bit to his prick. It twitched behind the zipper of his jeans, taking interest in the proximity of a warm, hard, handsome man for the first time in a very long time.
Sam felt the sudden shift, too. Danny could see it in his eyes, hear it in the sudden quickening of his breath. He even leaned forward a bit more, his free hand drifting toward Danny’s hip. But Sam stopped at the last moment, exhaling gently before backing away.
“I have to go.” Sam dropped his hands to his sides. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Danny jammed his hands into his pockets. His heart had quickened its rhythm and he felt an echo of it in his groin. He wanted to glance down at Sam’s fly but didn’t, choosing to hold his gaze instead. Sam gave him a weak smile and left.
The Growing Season Page 5