Three days before Thanksgiving, Will turned twenty-nine. He had a one-year-old daughter who delighted him, a twenty-seven-year-old wife who thrilled. Three-year-old scars along his elbow and ankle ached, but kept him grounded. If those marks didn’t do it, then his writing struck a chord; Will was in Oregon to live his real life.

  A birthday party was held on Monday, November nineteenth, Will’s house full of relatives. Jenn and Marsh were nearly four months old, alternating at their mother’s bosom. Chelsea was so like Jenny, like Bethany too, and Will felt a tug in his heart. Louise was fully mobile now, just starting to test her voice, Ma-ma-ma alternating with Da-da-da. Will urged her on, what Tommie noted Jenny had done with him. Letting the cork out of the bottle, Tommie laughed, but Will continued nudging his daughter, wondering just when he and Bethany might start to think about another.

  Mitch and Tanner arrived late, Tanner looking like a sorry piece of meat. All Will had told that kid had gone in one ear then right out the other. Mitch seemed no more helpful, in that Tanner didn’t wish to hear anyone but voices excusing his behavior, offering quick fixes. Then Will caught Dana chatting with Jenny. Whatever was eating that girl was doing the very same.

  That night’s chatter was about happier subjects; all would gather in a few days for Thanksgiving at Tommie and Rae’s. They hadn’t celebrated it with everyone present in a long time, then Will sighed. His family was heading to Rhode Island in December; they hadn’t been able to get out of it, not even with Marsh and Jenn. Vanessa countered that those babies wouldn’t remember their first Christmas, but that little Louise was over a year old. Will’s wife had spent a week back there in early summer, then eight days in October. Will had no wish to leave Oregon, but if they went this year, next year when Louise was two Will would insist his family spend Christmas in Arkendale. If his mother-in-law didn’t like it, that was too damn bad.

  As the host, Will watched the party end. Usually his family left early, getting Louise to bed at a decent hour. That night many headed to the large nursery in the back of the house, leaving the living room for mostly men and the few women not interested in babies. Which really meant Dana; she clung to Eric, who equally didn’t wish her far. She was alluring in that mysterious manner Eric had always found irresistible. Whenever Will had come home, there had always been some dark-haired girl clutching his youngest brother’s arm, one that appeared needy, helpless. That night Dana only looked high. She and Tanner were having a not-so-lucid conversation but both were so out of their heads, Will didn’t bother with them.

  He found Andy in the kitchen, getting a last poke at dessert. Since becoming a father, Andy had lost some weight, which Will recalled, never time to eat when trying to keep a breastfeeding woman well nourished. Bethany still gave Louise a late-night nursing, but she was nearly weaned, and the couple was using birth control. Then Will chuckled. He was sick of condoms; maybe they would just have another kid.

  “Hey Will, happy birthday!” Andy’s mouth was full. “Great spread you put on.”

  “It’s gonna be a week for it.” Will grabbed a small slice of cheesecake. “You look like you could use a few pounds.”

  Andy smiled, patting his formerly plump gut. “No thanks. Gonna try to keep it off.”

  “Well, if what you’ve lost could find Tanner, I’d be happy.” Dana too, but Will didn’t say it.

  Andy’s eyes clouded. “No kidding.”

  “Anything we can do for him?”

  “Just pray. I’ve told Mitch he’s talking to a brick wall.”

  Will nodded. Since the twins were born, a quiet spirituality had hit the sheriff. Will prayed, not as he should, but then, did any of them?

  He prayed for his mom mostly, had prayed every day for Chelsea. When he thought about it he added Dana to the list, Tanner too. During Mitch’s last weeks in Iraq, Will included that man. But lately, all Will had been doing was writing. The book was coming along and while he had no idea if it was any good, at least what he wished to convey somehow found its way from his still aching right hand, the left better on the keyboard.

  “Andy, I’ll pray if I can remember. Got more on my plate sometimes than probably what’s good for me.”

  A warm smile met Will’s gaze. “God, don’t I know that!”

  They laughed about fatherhood emerging from nowhere for the sheriff, taking a while for Will and Bethany. Those months after the accident still seemed a jumble to Will, massive alterations taking place within what felt like days. He had been preparing for the off season, then found himself home, which suddenly wasn’t Pacifica, California. Now it was Oregon, for nearly all of them.

  “Listen, I’d better check on your sister,” Andy said. “Don’t want her to think I forgot I had kids.”

  Will followed him to the nursery, where it had dwindled to just three infants, their mothers, and a few aunts. Jenny had the rocker with the high seat, Jenn resting in her arms.

  Staring at his mom, Will realized there were no baby pictures of Jenny. She had left home as a teenager for reasons never explained. He had asked once, in a roundabout way, but her silent, scared eyes had cut off the conversation, and Will never inquired again.

  Everyone said Jenn looked just like Jenny, only waiting for the freckles to appear. Louise was starting to as well, her brown hair not quite long enough for a trim. Bethany hadn’t cut bangs, and as Will gazed at his daughter, those long strands were brushed aside, Rachel in the beanbag, cuddling her niece. She would make a good mother when the time was right. Then Will sighed, not wishing to know his mother or sister’s futures, nor his own. If he and Beth tried for another baby, it might take just as long as Louise did.

  Which wouldn’t be without its perks. Then Will again stared at his mom; what had she looked like at Rachel’s age, what were her features when she was as old as Louise, as tiny as Jenn?

  What had happened to Jenny Cope Cassel, the emerging writer in Will’s brain thumped. Why had she come to Arkendale?

  A few days later the group met again, no Schumachers except Andy and his family, which was double its size from 2006, something for which many thanks were given.

  A few extras graced the tables; Emily’s date, Carson Spencer, was a fellow doctoral student who seemed more than smitten with Mitch’s older sister. Mitch’s presence seemed strange; he hadn’t been home for this meal since enlisting in 2001. Tanner floated about the house, but instead of Travis and Eric at his side, Mitch anchored Tanner’s feet to the floor.

  Jenny and Chelsea held babies as the rest fussed with the various meats and sides dishes. Sam fetched his wife whatever she needed. No one asked if she was all right, for clearly her few vertical moments spoke of a bad day. Not so awful that she missed this gathering, but Jenny’s pain was evident. For dessert she skipped pie, indulging in pound cake. Emily told Carson that her aunt was allergic to squash, which became the next in-joke. Jenny ate pound cake because pumpkin gave her a rash.

  Then Carson asked if Emily’s grandmother had an allergy too? After Carson had married Emily, it was something he teased her about, asking if one day she would develop sensitivity to a particular vegetable. Thanksgiving 2007 would hold many memories, bittersweet at first, lessening to a soft fondness as time passed. Carson’s inadvertent joke would remain however, reminding that sometimes a smile was better than tears.

  When Mitch and Tanner got ready to leave, David followed them out. Tanner sat in the front seat of Mitch’s new pick-up, but Mitch and David stood outside, the night cool, no rain falling.

  “You gonna be okay?” David asked.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “I heard a few things.”

  Mitch chuckled. “Now what’d you hear all the way up at that volcano?”

  “Just that someone down here was looking to start something with Tanner, and whoever was leading him around by the nose.”

  Friends in town kept David up to date. Usually it was harmless gossip, but Jackson seemed to be stirring the pot. David was curious if Mitch had heard the sa
me.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’ve gotten that message. If that bastard wants to pick a fight, he’s dumber now than when he was in school with you.”

  David laughed. “Listen, I’ll be around until Monday. You need anything, let me know.”

  “Hell, if David Cassel’s got my back, Jackson better watch out. You might throw a Batman comic and dent that Mustang’s bumper.”

  “Not a bad idea,” David grinned. “Hey, get going. Gotta put Goldilocks to bed.”

  “Shit, don’t I know it.”

  Mitch turned to go and David stepped back. Then Mitch paused. “Listen, what time you leaving on Monday?”

  “Gotta be on the rock bright and bushy for Tuesday. But it’s a short drive as the crow flies.”

  Mitch nodded. “Cool. Just wondering.” As he got in the cab, Tanner’s snores rumbled. “See, he’s already out! Just a lightweight.”

  “He’s got a heavyweight on his back,” David smiled.

  “Tells me that all the time,” Mitch chuckled. Then he closed the door and headed down Tommie’s drive.

  Sam’s family spent Friday together, except for the hour Cory Sanchez arrived. Even over the holiday weekend Jenny had therapy, and this time Rachel was joined by David while the rest shopped in town.

  Rachel wished her brother had gone with them, for he only stopped teasing when she asked why Sandra hadn’t joined him. Rachel hadn’t kept her voice quiet, as David had been just as annoying with his remarks about a certain therapist. Cory never noted their banter, but Jenny did. “Who’s Sandra?”

  “David’s…”

  “Shut up Rache.”

  “Girlfriend,” Rachel giggled.

  “Goddamnit,” David mumbled.

  “Well Emily brought Spencer,” Jenny added.

  “Carson, Mom. His first name is Carson,” Rachel smiled.

  “Carson, Spencer, what’s the difference? He was nice.”

  “Yeah, just fine,” David said.

  “So David, who’s Sandra?” Jenny asked again.

  Few words were managed as David wasn’t chatty and Jenny was in pain. Did David notice, Rachel wondered, not paying any attention to the one causing her mother’s anguish.

  It was the first time she hadn’t given Cory her usual consideration, partially to discourage David’s teasing. Also because of Jenny’s questions; “So where’s she from David?”

  “Oh, uh, Salem. She’s from Salem.”

  “Well, what does she do in Salem?”

  “She has Thanksgiving with her family.”

  “Is that why she didn’t have it with us?”

  Despite the regimen, Jenny’s tone was bouncy and Rachel couldn’t help her laugh.

  David elbowed her gently. “Hey, I’m gonna tell Mom!” Rachel whined.

  “Oh shit,” David muttered.

  Then Cory chuckled. “Good grief!”

  “What?” Jenny asked. “Never seen someone besides your patient get grilled during therapy before?”

  Then David laughed. “Hey yeah, so Rache…”

  “Shut up Dave.”

  Cory stifled a snort. Then all giggled uncontrollably as he ended the session by pulling a plastic wand from his briefcase, waving it over Jenny.

  Jenny returned to find Rachel, Cory, and David in the kitchen, again in giggles. Cory looked about her son’s age, but Rachel appeared like a girl in the throes of an enormous crush. Jenny stared at the object of Rachel’s affection, trying to see if it was one unrequited. From the corner of her eyes she glimpsed delight in the usually stoic therapist’s demeanor. It was how he took Rachel’s hand, giving it a squeeze. Then his brown eyes, like Rachel’s, twinkled. Jenny said nothing, but felt an inner joy. Now she just had to get to the bottom of David’s mystery woman.

  Goodbyes were said; David noted it was so much fun he would be there again on Monday.

  “Oh well, I won’t be here,” Cory laughed. “But Jane will, you remember her from summer Mrs. Cassel?”

  “Oh yes. Not as hilarious as you Cory, but I’m sure we’ll manage.”

  Jane Truslow had been a chatty, entertaining therapist. After that session’s unusually light tenor, Cory chuckled. “Oh yeah, Jane’s a real stick in the mud. Good luck with her.”

  David said nothing, but Rachel looked stricken. “Well, we’ll miss you.”

  Jenny stared at Cory, who looked surprised at Rachel’s small honesty. “I’ll only be gone a couple of days.” His tone was professional, as the women were accustomed.

  But David had only seen Cory with a more humorous streak intact. “Well, I won’t see you again until, hell, who knows Rache.”

  “Shut up,” she hissed. Then Rachel said a prompt goodbye.

  Jenny noted Cory’s eyes follow her out of the room, David’s devilish laugh in Jenny’s ears.

  On Saturday night, separate households spent time with their immediate kin. At Sam’s farm, Rachel and David were at odds, but the rest mingled, and Dana finally held Louise. Dana looked unpracticed, but it was a start; Jenny hadn’t pried anything from that girl since October.

  Not that she had tried very hard. Dana knew that Jenny’s past had been fraught with difficulty, no one with an easy life. Perhaps it was starting to get through to her, or maybe infants weren’t as daunting anymore.

  Jenny considered her own life at twenty-two, Dana having turned that age last month. Jenny had just moved to Tampa and she recalled the mugginess alongside the sense of again trying to find herself. All she found were plenty of men, and it took seven more years before she landed on this farm.

  A cell phone’s ring halted her thoughts, David’s voice not his normal jovial tone. He ran a hand through his thick hair, how Sam had looked when Jenny met him. She still hadn’t gotten any more out of David about this Sandra, but she would ask Will and Chelsea if they knew more than Rachel.

  “Yeah, okay. I’ll be right there.” He closed the phone, then stuffed it in his pocket. “I hate to eat and run but…”

  “David?” Jenny asked.

  “That was Mitch, needs some help with Tanner.”

  Andy stood, Marshall in his arms. “You want some back up?”

  David’s smile was wide, but Jenny felt chilled. “Nah, stay here, change a diaper. This won’t take long.”

  “David, it’s Saturday night,” Jenny said.

  “Yeah, that’s the problem. Okay, see you all tomorrow. Rache, you cooking pancakes?”

  Jenny looked at her husband. Sam saw through David’s diversionary tactics as well as she did.

  “Yeah, I am. You gonna help?” Rachel was unaware of her brother’s ploy.

  “You bet. Better make enough for Cory too. Or no, as he won’t be around for a few days. Whatever will you do?”

  David ruffled her hair, causing siblings to question Rachel, but Sam followed David to the door, going so far as to grab David’s arm. A son knew better than to continue, but David’s face was grim. “Dad, what? I need to go.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Mitch just needs some assistance. Tanner’s getting a little out of control.”

  “Is this just about Tanner?”

  David couldn’t meet his father’s eyes. “Yeah, just Tanner. Okay?”

  “David, don’t bullshit me!”

  Everyone heard Sam’s raised voice, little Louise turning in Dana’s grasp.

  “Dad, it’s okay. No one’s gonna get hurt.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means,” David wrested his arm from Sam. “The sooner I get there, the quicker it’ll all be over.”

  Before Sam could take a step, David was through the door, his truck peeling out of the drive. Right on his heels were Andy, Will, and Eric.

  Rain had started falling as David reached Tanner’s apartment, that midnight blue Mustang parked out front. David carried no weapon, only a temper and willing fists. If he had known Jackson had a gun, he might have been more worried.

  He was smart enough to keep quiet, better to employ the
element of surprise. Tanner’s front door was open and voices were raised. Not Tanner’s, but Mitch and a piece of scum David wished to smash against the side of the building. He stole up the staircase, not hearing the actual words, only loud, fuming voices, Mitch in full throttle.

  Squatting near the front window, David saw that cousin, also someone else. “That little bastard owes me fifty thousand dollars. I want it tonight or that’s it!”

  How much Jackson had demanded last summer, David recalled. Fifty G’s and no one gets hurt, like some dumb TV show. What did Jackson think this was? Not LA, not even Portland, just some little Podunk town. If Jackson really wanted his money, he was barking up the wrong tree. Not just in badgering Mitch, but this entire family.

  “Listen asshole, you lay one fucking finger on anyone here and I’ll personally rip your goddamned head off! You think you’re hot shit with that piece? Let me tell you, I’ve killed men tougher than your dumb ass well before breakfast!”

  Mitch sounded slightly drunk and David slid past the door, noting Tanner passed out on the couch. Mitch had been in how many worse scrapes, and here he was, defending Tanner from a two-bit drug dealer in the Willamette Valley, which made David grin.

  That thought was shattered by two explosions, then a sharp scream. David bolted into the room, faced by a gun pointed his way.

  “You motherfuckers think you’re so goddamned superior. Take this asshole!”

  David only had time to duck as Jackson shot at the door. Jackson then whirled around, a callous grin spreading across his face as he pointed the weapon to where Tanner slept on the sofa.

  David fell to the floor, clutching Mitch’s slumped frame. Then Jackson spun back to face him. “I should just kill all you bastards!”

  A prayer was mumbled over Mitch’s bleeding body. Unsure if Jackson heard him, David closed his eyes, noting footsteps, then the gun’s warm butt set right against his temple. As Mitch gasped for air, David trembled, hoping family wouldn’t find them first.

  Chapter 21