CONVICTED

by Pelton, Kristi

  Mr. Brisco cleared his throat. “Sorry about that.”

  As we rounded a corner, an elaborate in-ground, stone pool filled the view of about ten massive windows across the back of the house. The water appeared motionless. Like glass. Not a stitch of wind as we stepped out onto the patio. And even though the view of the pool caught my eye, it paled by comparison to the expanse of land that stretched to the mountain behind the house. The same black fence casing the perimeter of the property outlined the backfields too, separating horses and cattle. Fields as far as I could see.

  “This is the ranch in a nutshell. The majority of the money is brought in through oil and cattle, but the land is where my heart and soul belong.”

  Mr. Briscoe stared out across the land as if seeing it for the first time.

  “You see, Joss. We all have our stories. We all have baggage. Each one of us has made a split-second decision that has changed our lives. You didn’t take anyone’s life. You reacted to a life being taken. There is no shame in that. I might have done something very similar. Any good man would have. I need you to know that I take very few men out here Joss. Judge Thompson is a friend of mine. Your case, your history, was presented to me, and after a few not so successful shots, I decided to try it again.”

  Another shot? I wondered why his last ‘shots’ didn’t end so well.

  “I’m not sure what I’ll be doing here, sir, but I already feel an obligation to thank you for the opportunity. I hope not to let you down.”

  Mr. Briscoe smiled—but not just a typical smile. He seemed bashful. Honest. Genuine. I hadn’t met a lot of honest men. Brax was honest.

  “Don’t thank me yet, young man. This will be hard work. When you leave here, I’ll be the one that owes you, trust me.”

  A small chuckle rolled up my throat for his sake. I wasn’t a fun person to be around, I knew that. I was everything dark and bad, but this man was the opposite.

  “Over here is where you’ll sleep. Live. You have a small kitchen and you are welcome to fix your own food. Breakfast will be served inside at 6:30 a.m., lunch is typically 11:30 and dinner is 5. Please come in those doors to eat.” He pointed at the big doors we’d just walked out.

  We stepped inside the smaller quarters off to the west of the pool.

  “This serves as a pool house during the summer, but for the next 18 months, this is your area. I think you’ll find it comfortable.”

  The bright, white walls were a big switch from the dark paneling in the trailer. A wall of windows faced the pool, and a big screen TV was on the west wall. The small kitchen was bigger than the Hess kitchen. For a short second, I closed my eyes and prayed the best way I knew how—remembering my mother praying with me as we both dropped to our knees at night on the side of the bed. Most memories of her had faded, but there were a few that still hung on.

  “You alright, son?”

  Rarely did I hear the word son without ‘piece of shit’ as a prefix.

  An emotional relief coursed through my entire body. For two and a half months, fear had eaten away inside of me with what my future held. Because of my actions, I’d missed Abby’s funeral, I’d not been there for Brax and I wasn’t able to finish my classes. And here I stood, feeling more like I was being rewarded than punished.

  “Yes, sir.”

  When his hand jetted toward me, I instinctively flinched away. Nearly cowering. A deep crease formed between his eyes.

  “I was only going to pat your back. I’m sorry for startling you.” He lowered his head. “I’m sure you can find your way around in here. Feel free to take a dip in the pool if you’d like.”

  The pool caught my eye before I nodded. “Thank you for your generosity.”

  “I’m sure this is all overwhelming. I’ll leave you be. Lunch and dinner will be at the times I stated earlier. Breakfast is served at 6:30. If that’s not for you, I’ll see you at the silo at 7 a.m. sharp.”

  “I’m happy to do some work today, sir.”

  “Thank you, Joss. I think today can be an adjustment day.” He winked.

  Calvin Briscoe closed the door so softly I wouldn’t have known he had left had I not watched him go. Overwhelmed was an understatement. I sat on the sofa, rubbing my hand across the smooth brown leather and laid my head back.

  Seventy-two days without Abby. Seventy-two days behind bars. And here I sat in a dream home that was someone else’s pool house. My only nights free of fear were when I had locked myself in my room at the trailer or the few times, I’d fallen asleep at Abby’s, and her parents allowed me to stay. The anticipation of the pending night’s sleep grew. But my nerves were rattled. I fell to the ground, pumping out twenty-five push-ups followed by twenty-five sit-ups.

  The fridge was full of bottled water, milk, name brand orange juice, eggs, lunch meats…wow. The bedroom had a king-sized bed; a ceiling fan spun overhead and a TV graced the wall in here too. I flipped the switch to the bathroom and a glass-encased shower sat in a corner. The bathroom was spotless. Gray towels. Cleanest bathroom I’d ever seen. No mold growing in the shower. No yellowing in the sink.

  The TV sparked to life the second I pushed the button. Hell, our remotes at home either needed batteries or were broken. After mindlessly flipping through channels, I turned the television off and made my way outside. Without much effort, I found the silos where I was to meet Mr. Briscoe in the morning. A huge ladder spiraled up the side of the tower. I hoped I wasn’t the guy for that job. The sun shone down from straight up above. Lunch had to be close.

  “You must be Joss.”

  I spun around to see what I could only describe as a real cowboy. His flannel shirt tucked into his jeans.

  “I am.”

  “I’m Preston. Worked for Cal for five years. Heard someone new was joining the forces.” His pointy boots were worn. I’d never been a fan of pointed-toe cowboy boots.

  “Start tomorrow,” I added.

  “It’s hard work out here, boy. Better be ready.”

  Boy? “I’m ready,” I said with confidence. There was no way I wanted to blow this opportunity.

  “We’ll see about that,” Preston said, spitting a wad of tobacco spit near my feet before he shuffled off.

  Like usual when offended, my lip pulled up just a bit. This time, I fought to let it go, but a mental note was made. “How about you fuck off?” I mumbled where he couldn’t hear then headed to the house.

  At the back door to the main house, I knocked on the door. A few seconds later, a pretty woman opened the glass door between us. Her long black hair and Hawaiian complexion stuck out. I wasn’t sure her age. I wasn’t good with that sort of thing. But if I was a betting man, I’d put her late thirty or forty.

  “Mr. Hess. Please come in,” she said with a foreign accent. Her quick smile put me more at ease.

  “Thank you.”

  “No need for you to knock. Please come in and have a seat. Lunch will be out in just a minute.” After almost curtseying, she scurried into the kitchen and disappeared.

  I sat awkwardly at the table for eight and wondered if anyone would join me.

  The exotic woman carried in a bowl of mashed potatoes and gravy. My mouth instantly watered. Then she brought out a pan of fried chicken, a glass of water for me and butter.

  “I see you’ve met Keyona. She keeps this place up and running like a well-oiled machine,” Mr. Briscoe said, walking into the kitchen. He winked at Keyona, and she blushed at his praise. “Joss, did you wash your hands?”

  Immediately, I pushed away from the table and joined him at the kitchen sink.

  “Honestly, I don’t have a lot of rules here. We keep it simple. Wash your hands. Use your manners. Be respectful.”

  I nodded, indicating I understood as I washed my hands.

  “Nice lunch,” I commented, settling back in at the table.

  “Keyona made a welcome lunch with hopes you’d join us. Typically, it isn’t this fancy.”

  I started to take a piece of chicken, when he stoppe
d me again.

  “We pray before every meal.”

  With that, I placed my hands in my lap and listened to his words. The food smelled incredible, so I was glad he kept it brief.

  I followed Mr. Briscoe’s lead and took a thigh for my plate, then spooned some potatoes and gravy on. KFC was the only chicken I’d ever eaten, and instant potatoes were the best Brax and I had ever fixed.

  Keyona joined us again with a bowl of corn and some rolls, but she never officially joined us. Lunch remained just Mr. Briscoe and me.

  “The other men? They don’t come in to eat?”

  “They do not. A simple lunch is provided to the ranch hands.”

  I wondered why I wasn’t eating with the ranch hands as I licked grease from my fingers, but I was secretly grateful.

  “Joss.”

  I glanced up at Mr. Briscoe. He held up his napkin. I assumed it was a nonverbal suggestion to use mine. After wiping my fingers, I dropped the napkin next to my plate. Instantly, he cleared his throat. This time, he shook the napkin and placed it in his lap. I followed his lead.

  “I’m sorry. Manners are not my forte.”

  “If you are using words like forte, then you’re doing ok. We just need to tweak a few things. It’ll come.”

  I nodded.

  Following the best damn lunch, I’d had—maybe ever, I decided to explore the rest of the gated grounds. Once I’d reached the back fence, I stared up the mountain at the back of the property. Today, I was free to roam. To accept the transition. So, without hesitation, I started my trek up the mountain.

  The tall trees buffered the Texas heat. Even though April wasn’t typically extreme, hauling ass up the mountain drenched my entire body in sweat. By the time I’d reached the summit, I struggled to catch my breath. Bending at the waist, I rested my hands on my knees. The heat seemed even more intense at the top. On the backside of the mountain, down in the valley below, were acres and acres of wind turbines for as far as I could see intermingled with working oil pumps. The same gate encompassing the grounds on the ranch side of the mountain outlined a good portion of the back. At least anything I could see.

  I sat at the foot of a tree, trying to cool off in the shade of the branches, taking in this incredible turn of events. Abby would think this place was beautiful. Abby… Laying down in the shade of the tree, I closed my eyes, knowing that I had to let go. She wasn’t coming back. Tomorrow, I would make this hike again and bring a knife to carve her name in this tree, so she could be a part of this place. Of this journey. This would be our spot.

  Chapter 5

  Ranch life

  Joss

  One month down . . .

  MR. BRISCOE WAS finishing business in Ft. Worth and would be back tomorrow. I missed him when he was gone. This was only my third week on the ranch, but it had started to feel more like a home than anything I had ever had before. As I sat at the large table alone, finishing my ham sandwich, I was surprised when Keyona pulled out the chair across from me and sat down. She had never joined us for any meal before, so this caught me a little off guard.

  I simply looked at her as I finished chewing and swallowed. The silence in the room was deafening…awkward.

  Her eyes seemed to flit back and forth from the table cloth, to my face, to my plate, but never met my gaze. She was nervous.

  “What’s up?” I asked carefully, not sure where this might be going.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt your lunch,” she replied, picking at a spare thread poking out the side of the embroidered tablecloth.

  “No interruption. I’m just surprised. You never sit out here.”

  “I know. But I really wanted to say something to you and this seemed as good a time as any,” she replied, still not meeting my eyes.

  “Uh, Ok.”

  I had never really had a conversation with her before. She was pleasant enough as she went about her duties in the house, giving me a quick smile every time she saw me, but this was a little weird.

  “I know it isn’t any of my business, and I don’t really know why you’re here.” She hesitated as if unsure whether she should continue. But she took a deep breath and continued. “But I recognize someone in pain when I see it.”

  Her eyes finally met mine with enough intensity in them that I was the one who had to look away.

  Shit. I didn’t want to think about this right now. It was hard enough getting through each day, knowing I had failed Abby. I sure as hell didn’t want to talk about it.

  “I’m fine.” I shrugged as I stood and picked up my plate to take it into the kitchen. I heard her footsteps follow me to the sink, but I didn’t turn around.

  “Look. I don’t expect you to talk about what happened…why you’re here,” she said gently. “All I meant to say is that I get it, maybe more than you know. We all have regrets in our lives. Things we wish we could undo. That doesn’t mean we have to suffer for the rest of our lives. Give yourself a break once in a while, enjoy yourself even. It doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten…” Her words trailed off to almost a whisper.

  “I can’t forget. I’ll never forget.” I walked out the door, without looking back at her.

  _______________

  After working in the hot sun all day, I cooled off with a dip in the pool. I had come to appreciate the tired, sore muscles from hard labor. Sweating and breathing hard was somehow therapeutic these days. I sat on the concrete edge of the pool, swinging my legs in the cool water, trying not to think about how much Abby would have loved this place.

  I was so absorbed in my thoughts that I didn’t hear the French door open. Before coming here, I had never heard of a French door, or why it was even called a French door. I didn’t notice Keyona until she was stepping into the pool. It was almost a shock to see her in a swimsuit. She was curvy the way a woman should be, and that beautiful skin tone drew my eyes like a magnet.

  My body reacted to seeing her, or maybe it would have been any woman at this point, and guilt spread quickly at my body’s betrayal of Abby.

  “Good evening, Mr. Hess.”

  I purposefully hadn’t gone into the house for dinner. After our conversation earlier, it would have been too awkward. I started to get up to give her some privacy, when her words stopped me.

  “Wait. Don’t go yet.”

  My eyes darted over to her as she fought the water, getting closer to me. “What’s up?” I asked, but there was something a man knew when he looked into a woman’s eyes. She had a purpose. I just wasn’t sure what it was.

  She held my gaze as she reached me. “I thought about our conversation earlier today.”

  “Yeah. What about it?”

  “I think I can help take your mind off things, if just for a moment.”

  I leaned away from her touch.

  “Keyona,” I warned.

  There had been no affection shown between her and Mr. Briscoe, but something still told me this was not a good idea. Only four months had passed since Abby. I shook my head as Keyona leaned closer to me. “What are you doing?”

  “Relax. I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispered in her unfamiliar accent. “Don’t read too much into this. Just go with it.”

  I’d had girls throw themselves at me before, but they wanted me on their arm. They wanted to call me theirs. Keyona confused me.

  Her caress down my face was gentle, and my eyes roamed the grounds looking for life. The massive rocks lining the boundary of the pool hid us. Everything about this felt wrong, but as her hand began to stroke my chest, she bent toward me and her lips brushed mine. Shocked, I kissed back only for a moment before she tried to deepen the kiss. With force I didn’t intend to use, I grabbed her forearms and shoved her away. Her brown eyes widened but I didn’t wait around long enough to measure any more of her response. Immediately, I hopped out of the pool and stormed inside. No one’s lips had touched my lips since Abby and quite a while before that.

  Hell, I’d only relieved myself a handful of times since I had arrived here. N
othing felt right about it since Abby’s death. Even using my own hand seemed like I betrayed her. Sometimes I even had trouble getting hard.

  My entire life I’d never been able to give a girl much. Sex—was all I really had to offer. We didn’t have money. I’d worked as a groundskeeper every summer at the baseball fields and saved my money, but Brax and I had to chip in on the bills, so very little of that money could go toward girls. I learned at a young age how to please a woman, so that’s what I did, pretty much every time I had a chance.

  But, after what had happened to Abby, that need to please a woman didn’t exist for me. I had no desire to please Keyona. She was beautiful and kind, but the appeal wasn’t there. I walked to the wall of windows peeking around the edge of the wall and watched as she swam back to the stairs. I didn’t know what to think of what had just happened but, I hoped all would be forgotten.

  Chapter 6

  Richard

  joss

  A FEW WEEKS later, the lights flashed on around the perimeter of the pool, and Mr. Briscoe flew out of the house in a pair of sweat shorts and a white t-shirt, toting a rifle. Shaken, I bolted out of the chair, slid on my untied tennis shoes and ran after him, not taking long to catch up.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, running alongside.

  “One of the horses in the back pasture fell.”

  The shotgun made me nervous. I guessed he was bringing it along for a reason. He slid into the gator.

  “You comin’?” he asked.

  Unsure if I really wanted to, I jumped in and tied my shoes. My neck snapped backward when he took off with a jolt.

  “These horses were my ex-wife’s idea. I’m a rancher not a stable boy.” His head shook with irritation as we barreled over a bumpy area I’d never been to. Two additional gators sat in the middle of a field as we approached, both sets of lights aimed toward the injured horse lying on the ground. Sal, the head ranch hand, knelt with his knee on the horse’s neck. Even though he applied pressure to keep him in place, Sal’s hand stroked the animal’s neck.