The Tin Star (18 page)

“But having it or not having it doesn’t change who I am. It and the history surrounding it may have helped make me
me
, but the place isn’t my identity. I can go somewhere else, do anything else, and the place and its history is still with me. The memories ... all of it is still mine as long as I remember it.”

“I hear what you’re saying, but would you really want to lose it?”

Ethan shook his head absently. “Not really, no. But I don’t value it over the lives of the people I love. It’s just a place.”

“But, as you pointed out, the memories of the people you love were made here. It was important to your daddy and your family. So shouldn’t it be important to you, too?”

“It is important, but it’s not everything, Jamie. Think about it, isn’t everything you said also true with regard to you and the Quad J? Wasn’t it your legacy as well as John’s?”

Jamie shrugged nonchalantly, or tried to, but Ethan could see the underlying sadness in his expression. “Not like it is for John or you. I was born last and never meant to have the Quad J.”

“That’s what bothers you most, isn’t it? Losing the ranch. Because it was part of your legacy. You loved it, its history, that you were raised there. It was important, belonging to that history.”

Jamie’s face went white. “You’re right. It’s just a place.”

Ethan suddenly realized that Jamie hadn’t let go. Not really. He still wanted to belong. He was giving all his hard work and his attention to the Tin Star, but his heart still belonged to the Quad J. He didn’t want to let go, give up hope. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he probably still thought his daddy would forgive him and ask him to come home.

“Ah, babe! You are important. Not because you’re part of some legacy, but because you’re you. You can build your own legacy!”

Jamie nodded. “I know. It’s just hard. I planned my entire life around working on that ranch.”

“How about readjusting those plans and building a legacy here, on this ranch ... with me?”

Those pretty blue eyes blinked. “You mean that?”

“Yeah. I do.” He kissed Jamie’s chin, hoping he was getting through. Jamie had to realize that there was no going back, only forward. “You gotta let it go, baby. It’s not going to change. He’s not going to forgive you. He’s not going to ask you to come back ... ever.”

Chapter Thirteen

Two days later, Jamie was enjoying his day off. Okay, so cleaning the house wasn’t much of a day off. But really, he enjoyed cleaning. There was nothing better than a sparkling house that smelled of fresh pine or lemon. Of course, if Ethan came in and caught him cleaning, he’d probably bitch. Not working today was supposed to be a sort of birthday present. He’d honestly tried to just laze around, but ten minutes of daytime TV was enough to cure him of that. Yikes! The crap they put on TV nowadays.

He’d tried to read a book, too, but that hadn’t lasted long. He’d glanced up and seen some dust bunnies under the chair across from the couch. No way could he stay still when the place was dirty. It drove him crazy. And that didn’t even include the half-assed cleaning Ethan had done in the kitchen this morning after he’d made and brought Jamie breakfast in bed.

Yeah, the man’s heart was in the right place, but he couldn’t clean for shit! Actually, he couldn’t cook for shit, either. Breakfast had to have been one of the worst French crepes he’d ever eaten. But he’d choked down every bite. Ethan had been so damned excited about making Jamie breakfast in bed that Jamie couldn’t stand to disappoint him. He made a mental note to hide the cookbooks to keep the man from attempting more cooking. It was only too obvious that Ethan hadn’t had a mama growing up. Luckily for him, Jamie had. God knew one of them had to cook and clean. He was just glad that Ethan was pretty good at doing laundry. Yep, there were definitely worse ways to spend the day than cleaning house and listening to the radio.

Halfway through Clint Black’s greatest hits CD and two-thirds through mopping, the phone rang. Jamie grinned. Jules had already called to wish him a happy birthday, so that was probably John. But there was one small problem. He’d mopped his way into a corner and couldn’t get to the phone without walking across his freshly cleaned and wet floor.
Damn!
Oh, well, there was nothing to be done; he’d have to re-mop. What were a pair of wet socks and streaked floor in comparison with giving his older brother the satisfaction of wishing him a happy birthday?

Jamie glanced at the caller ID: yup, the Quad J. He picked up the phone with a smile. “Hey, John.”

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my bastard son. Just who I wanted to talk to.”

Jamie almost dropped the phone. His stomach dropped. He really had not expected this. “Hello, Dad. What can I do for you?”

“Leave.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, boy. Leave town. Get out of here and don’t come back. In fact, I’ll make you a deal.”

He swallowed. No way in hell was he going to let his father get the best of him.
Composure, Jamie! Composure!

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I can’t do that. I like it here, and I’m not interested in any deal you have to offer. So, if that is all you called for, I’m going to have to hang up now. Goodbye.”

“You want the money my Blanche left you in her will?”

Jamie blinked. What the hell? Why had he said it like that? His mama had left him, John and Jules fifty thousand dollars apiece when she’d died. The money was already his. Well, technically, it wasn’t his until he turned twenty-five, but the money was being held for him, wasn’t it? “I beg your pardon?”

“The money, boy! The fifty grand that my wife left in trust for you. You want it?”

Jamie wasn’t sure how to answer. What kind of game was the old man playing? “The money is already mine. I can wait three years.”

A rusty laugh echoed over the phone. “You think so? You think there will be any of it left by the time you turn twenty-five?”

Okay, now he was getting pissed. His mom had left it for him; who did the old man think he was? And just what the fuck was he trying to threaten? Sure, his dad was in charge of the money until Jamie turned twenty-five, but could he spend it? “Mama left that money to me, not you. It stated in her will that the money was to be --”

“Your
mother
didn’t leave you squat! My
wife
left it for you. Your mother was a no-good whore. Hell, the slut is probably still alive.”

“What?” Jamie sank to the floor. He hadn’t really meant to ask out loud. Jacob was just trying to get to him; he knew that. But, still, why would he say something so terrible?

“You mean your boyfriend and his aunt didn’t tell you? My ex-mistress was your mother. The stupid bitch wouldn’t agree to an abortion even though she didn’t want you, so I had to tell Blanche. Blanche, being the kind woman that she was, agreed to take you in. God rest her soul. My Blanche was a good woman, a little dense at times, but she had a good heart. She never could turn down a stray. Even a bastard one like you.”

“That ... that’s not true. You expect me to believe anything you say?”

“Just ask your lover’s dingbat aunt.”

Jamie swallowed. How could the man be so nasty as to make up a story like this? “Yeah, I’ll ask Margie. I have nothing else to say to you.”

Jacob chuckled. “Yeah? Well, I have something to say to you. If you want to see that fifty grand, you better get out of town. Actually, get out of Texas all together. You leave, I’ll give you the money now. You stay, and you can kiss every bit of it goodbye. You’ll never see one red cent of it, understand? Then and again, you might not make it to twenty-five, either. Think about it.” The line went dead.

Jamie wasn’t sure how long he sat there with the receiver against his ear, listening to the buzzing sound that signaled the phone was off the hook. Somewhere, Clint Black was still singing in the background, and Fred was barking at the back door, but he barely registered any of it.

What if it were true? All of it. Forget the money; who cared about the money when none of it would bring Mama back, so what was it really worth anyway? And had his father just threatened his life? What about Ethan? Had he truly known Ethan was his lover or was he just mouthing off? Mama. What if ...

“Jamie?”

Jamie blinked as the phone was taken out of his hand. He stared at his empty hand. Was it really true? What had he said about Mama?
Ask your lover’s dingbat aunt?
Ask Margie?
You mean your boyfriend and his aunt didn’t tell you?
Ethan? Ethan knew?

“Jamie? Snap out of it. You’re scaring me.” Ethan caught his face in his hands, forcing him to look into his eyes. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

Damn, his stomach hurt suddenly. Why was it so hard to breathe? “He knows ... He wants me to ... He said Mama isn’t ... Blanche isn’t ... He ...” Jamie cleared his throat. God, he couldn’t form the horrible words. He looked into Ethan’s concerned face. Willing him to understand.

“Ah, babe! Hell.” Ethan sat down and pulled him into his lap, pushing his face against the hard wall of his broad chest.

Jamie pulled back.
Why is he coddling me like a damned baby
?

“I think you’re a bit in shock. God, I’m so sorry. I should have told you as soon as I found out.”

What?
Jamie scrambled out of Ethan's lap.

Ethan reached for him. “Jamie?”

“Are you saying it’s true? It’s not! She’s the only one that ever really loved me. It’s not true, Ethan!”

“Jamie, you know that isn’t true. John and Julia have always loved you. And me, I’ve always cared about you, too. And Hank and Aunt Margaret.” He reached for Jamie again, like he was trying to gentle an animal or something.

Jamie frowned and stood up. How could he not have known that his father hated his guts and wanted him gone, dead even? Then there was what Ethan had said last night. He’d been right; he was never going back to the Quad J, never going home. That part of his life was over, and his life had been a lie. It had never been his home.

He looked down at his recently mopped floor, then at Ethan. It was all too much.

“Get off my fucking wet floor, goddammit!” He turned and stormed off.

“Shit!” Ethan caught up with him at the bottom of the stairs. He didn’t say anything, just enfolded Jamie in his arms and kissed the back of his neck.

Jamie stopped mid-stride, gradually relaxing into his embrace. He turned slowly in Ethan’s arms, leaned forward and hugged Ethan, too, dropping his head to Ethan’s shoulder “I’m sorry. I guess I’m a little ... overwhelmed.”

“I’m the one that needs to say sorry. I wanted to tell you but I didn’t know how, so I just kept putting it off. I could never seem to find the right time ... or the right words.” He kissed Jamie gently. “I’m really sorry, Blue Eyes, but ignoring it isn’t going to make it go away. Talk to me. Tell me what happened.”

“Don’t suppose you’ll leave me alone if I don’t.”

“Don’t suppose I will. So spill it.”

Jamie took a deep breath and let it out against Ethan’s collarbone. “How much do you know? Or maybe I’ll just say what happened, and you can tell me what you know and if it’s true or not.”

Ethan nodded. “Sounds like a good idea.”

Jamie kept his head on Ethan’s shoulder. It was somehow soothing. With Ethan so close, it didn’t hurt as much to relive the phone call. He went over the entire conversation. “It’s true, isn’t it? At first, I thought that it was just him trying to get to me, but ...”

“Yeah, it’s true. Aunt Margaret told me that day we went over to see her. You were putting antifreeze in her car and I was fixing her leak. Your mama never wanted you to know, but Aunt Margaret was afraid that with all the other stuff going on that your dad would probably tell you. Blanche loved you very much, Jamie. Aunt Margaret knew that without a doubt, said that she loved you every bit as much as she did John and Julia. As far as your mama was concerned, you
were
hers. And, really, isn’t that all that matters?”

It was, and he knew that Blanche had loved him. No one could have done the things she had done for him if she hadn’t loved him. Hell, he’d been accused of being her favorite often enough. He hadn’t believed that; Mama wasn’t the kind to play favorites, but he had been closer to her than either John or Julia. If only she were here now. Man, he missed her. He missed her a lot. He squeezed Ethan a little tighter.

“Don’t worry about the money, babe. We’ll have my lawyer look into it. And we’ve got to call the sheriff about this. Jacob’s words sounded too much like a threat to me.” Ethan was quiet for several seconds, thoughtful. “Can you forgive me for not telling you? I was going to, I swear. I just ... I couldn’t stand to see that look you get on your face.”

Jamie leaned back. “What look?”

Ethan kissed his nose. “That look, baby.” He ran his finger down Jamie’s cheek. “This look right here. This defeated look. It never lasts long but, God, I hate it. It breaks my heart.”

He grinned and nuzzled into Ethan’s caress, feeling a little calmer. Yeah, his life was shit right now, but he still had Ethan. And Ethan clearly cared enough to be upset that he’d heard the bad news from his dad instead of him. Maybe he really did have a future here, a future with Ethan.

“I forgive you if you promise me you’ll never keep anything from me again. I know why you did it, and I can even understand it, but promise me, Ethan.”

Ethan looked him right in the eye. “I promise.”

“I promise, too, ’kay?”

Ethan smiled and kissed him. Maybe life wasn’t so shitty after all.

* * * * *

Jamie sat in the bar with Ed and Hayden, a grin on his face, waiting for Ethan and John, who were at a last-minute meeting about the steakhouse deal. The earlier fiasco was not forgotten, but he wouldn’t think about it. At least for now.

After he’d gotten over his shock, Ethan had given him his birthday present: a three-hundred-dollar gift certificate to Sheplers and, of course, half ownership of the Mustang. Then he’d invited everyone out for drinks. Ed and Hayden had readily accepted. Bill had declined. He’d claimed he was going to watch some TV, but Jamie wasn’t buying it for a minute. From his recent behavior, Jamie had a sneaking suspicion that Bill and Margie had something going on. Ethan didn’t think so, but he didn’t seem averse to the idea, either.