Another secret of the universe: Sometimes pain was like a storm that came out of nowhere. The clearest summer could end in a downpour. Could end in lightning and thunder. ~ Benjamin Alire Sáenz
Chapter 1.
Storm Clouds Gather.
"Being a Sheriff is rarely a pleasant occupation," Sheriff Owen Jacobs remembered for the umpteenth time as he dismounted his horse and tied it to the front porch of the farmhouse he had just ridden up to.
Catching criminals sounded so heroic, and the idea of it sounded so honorable, however in real life, one out of maybe twenty criminals was really as black and evil-hearted as storybooks will tell you. The rest were ordinary people, who, for some reason or another, had gone bad. Yet behind all that badness, there was a still a backstory, a reason as to why the man or woman had turned from the straight and narrow path and gone down the one of crime.
But the worst part of it all was having to inform the family of the culprit about the arrest. Usually, this didn't fall into Jacobs' line of duty and he was mighty thankful for that. This time, however, there was no backing out of it. So with a heavy heart, he walked up to the steps of the front porch and gave a weary knock on the front door.
As he waited for someone to answer, Jacobs glanced around. It was a well-kept place. The house was big with two stories. He had ridden past the fields on his way and the farm was in good shape and had lots of land that was tended and tilled. The pasture, where the animals no doubt grazed, had looked lush and green with the rich green grass of the month of May.
"What a difference to the pathetic little farm next door," Jacobs mused. "No wonder Carthwrite wanted me to bring his little wife here. The owners certainly looked after their land and made it so prosperous by the sweat of their brow.
The door cracked open and a skinny boy wearing spectacles peeked out. His eyes widened at the sight of the sheriff, and for a moment Jacobs stared bewildered too. The kid's eyes were different. One was brown the other was blue. Thus they both blinked at each other for a couple of seconds. Jacobs was the first to snap back to reality.
"Sorry to interrupt at the dinner hour," he stated in his thick voice. "But I'm lookin' for Mr. and Mrs. Carthwrite. I was told this was their farm."
"Why do you need my parents?" The boy questioned, obviously distrustful of this stranger sheriff.
"It's about their son," Jacobs explained in a quiet manner.
The boy gave a quick nod and hurried away. In a matter of moments, the door opened a little wider and a man and woman greeted him. Behind them, Jacobs caught sight of the boy who had opened the door, three more young men, ranging from about eighteen to sixteen, and a young woman of about twenty years. A small child had pushed his way to the front but had been shoved back by the tall man with sad blue eyes and greying hair. Jacobs guessed this to be Samuel Carthwrite, Seth's father.
"Mr. and Mrs. Carthwrite," he addressed the two elders as he wrung the hat in his hands.
"Yes?" the man answered as he appraised the sheriff. "How can we help you?"
Jacobs took a deep breath. If only he didn't have to be the one doing this. "I'm sorry to disturb you at the supper hour," he began. "My name is Owen Jacobs and I'm the sheriff over at Garden Springs. I'm afraid I've come to bring you some news about yer son, Seth Carthwrite."
A gasp came from the woman beside Mr. Carthwrite. Owens had to admit she was very beautiful, despite her years. Thick, black hair crowned her head and her soft brown eyes were very similar to those of the son that Jacobs had just put in jail. Fear was written on her face, a face that had obviously seen many hardships and lived through trying times. Jacobs hated having to be the one to put another care upon her shoulders, another worry to her life.
"What about him?" She asked fearfully. "Is he in serious trouble with the law?"
Jacobs couldn't help looking down for a second. "Ma'am, I regret to inform you that Seth Carthwrite has been charged and found guilty of theft and illegal trade. He was arrested, tried, and convicted to five years in prison."
There, he had given the news, and one look told him how bad it had hit the family. First, there was stunned silence as everyone just stared at him.
"How...how...how?" The young woman in the back muttered but couldn't seem to quite finish her question. The husband and wife exchanged glances.
"When did it happen?" Sam Carthwrite asked at last.
"'Bout a week ago," Jacobs informed. "I'm afraid I was the one who had to perform the arrest. The trial was just yesterday and he's been taken to the county prison. I'm really very sorry."
"What of his wife?" Ann Carthwrite whispered. "What became of Abbie Mae? Is she still at Garden Springs?"
Jacobs shifted uncomfortably. "I brought Abbie Mae Carthwrite back to Apple Wine. Yer son did ask me to take her to you, but she insisted that I bring her to her father's house. I was hesitant. Seth Carthwrite told me her father as a drinkin' problem and it would be better for her to live with her in-laws, that is with you. But Abbie Mae denied her father ever drinkin' or beating her and pleaded and begged for me to take her to her home. She nearly jumped off the chaise I was takin' her in and at last, I gave in. Don't know if it were the right thing to do, but there didn't seem to be any other option as far as she was concerned."
Sam and Ann slowly nodded their heads. "I would have preferred if she came to us as well," Ann muttered. "But she's a stubborn one, wouldn't have stayed anyway. She's very attached to her mother and will always return to her."
There was a slight pause. Jacobs put his hat back on. "I am really sorry to bring such bad tidings, Mr. and Mrs. Carthwrite. Wish I didn't have too, but it falls in my line of duty."
Sam shook his head and held out his hand. "It is not your fault, Sheriff, that our son went against the law. You did your duty, how can we hold it against you. Thank you for taking the time to come and tell us, and thank you for seeing to Abbie Mae and bringing her home. Can we offer you any supper? It's already evening and you have quite a journey ahead of you."
Jacobs gazed into sad blue eyes and he couldn't help taking a great liking to the man who owned them. He had so many scars on his face, scars on the hand he was holding out. This man must have lived through some sort of hell, but he seemed so collected and gentle at the same time.
"Appreciate the offer," Jacobs said as he took the hand and gave it a warm shake. "But I should git going now. Got family of my own waiting for me and I'd like to hurry back to them. Once again, I'm real sorry for the bad tidings. I'll wish you all a good evening."
He tipped his hat once again and went back to his horse. Glancing over his shoulder as he mounted he could see the family all still standing at the open doorway, watching as he rode away.
"They sure seem to be a tight-knit family," Jacobs mused. "Wonder what it was that caused Seth Carthwrite to turn away from them and git into so much trouble all on his own."
***
Sometimes storm clouds gather when you are busy with the cares of this world, and before you know it the sky is dark and overcast. For the Carthwrite family, it truly felt like this. They stood watching as the sheriff rode off on his horse. And even though the evening was beautiful, the sky clear, and a beautiful sunset spreading out in the west, it was cold and dark in the hearts of each family member. At last, Sam turned to his wife and the first thing he noticed were the tears in her eyes.
"Nan, don't break my heart with those," he softly said as he reached over to wipe them away. With the cast his gaze at the boys and Ruth, who stood behind them. Nan took a deep breath and nodded her head. It was no good crying in front of the children.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled.
A hand was gently placed on her shoulder. Glancing over Nan saw it had been placed there by Elisha. Of course. Who else would think to do that? The boy, already the spitting image of his father, had also inherited Sam's sensitive nature. How often the mother forgot he was still a child half a year short of seventeen, he had a tendency to behave so much more grown up than that.
"Don't be sorry, Momma," he whispered in his rolling voice. "Don't be ashamed of cryin'. It ain't a sign that yer weak, rather that you have a heart that has been broken."
Those words produce a laugh from Nan. "Listen to the philosopher speak."
"But really, Momma," this time Michael, the youngest of the batch, spoke up. "Don't try to be too strong that you have to hide yer tears all the time. We know how hard this is hitting you. Harder than the rest of us probably. You've given your life to raising Seth, and now this." He put his arms around her waist.
"Oh, you all got me," Nan laughed but let her tears spill out again. "Who would have thought this rowdy bunch can suddenly turn so mature and supportive? Come along, no use standing out here on the threshold, let's get inside, try to sort this out."
The entire family turned and went back to the kitchen, where supper had long gotten cold. They sat down and for a while there was silence. At last, Nan spoke up.
"Where did he say Seth was taken?"
"County prison, I think," Clinton, Elisha's twin, replied. "Jimmy knows that place better than the rest of us, how far would you say it is, Jims?"
All eyes turned to Jimmy, who stared at the ceiling deep in thought. "You can make it there in about three hours, I think," he stated at last. "Provided you keep the horse at a quick canter."
"So I suppose it's too late to go today," Nan sighed.
"GO?" Jimmy, Clinton, Elisha, and Michael all burst out.
"Momma, ya ain't serious, are ya?" Elisha sputtered.
"Prison is no place for you," Clinton added.
"We don't want you going there!" Michael finished.
In reply, Nan rolled her eyes. "My boy is locked away in there and you all think I'm gonna sit over here and just cry my eyeballs out! No siree! I haven't seen Seth in far too long, and now, at last, he is in a place where he can't run away from me. How can I sit by here and let my boy, my son, rot away? Y'all ain't mothers, so ya won't understand. Only Ruth will." Nan cast a glance at her daughter. Ruth was busy trying to quietly explain the situation to her young son Eddie, who as usual had heard so much more than he was supposed to and was no bursting with curiosity as to what had happened and why.
"Pa, ya ain't gonna let her go, are you?" Elisha turned to his father, who so far had sat in silence.
"I won't let her go alone," Sam replied in a weary voice. He seemed to have suddenly aged several years after hearing news. "But of course she will go."
"But it's a prison, Pa! A prison!"
"And she's now the mother of an inmate," Sam argued. "So she fears nothing and no one. Y'all stop fretting. I think you all know by now that if Momma gets it into her head to do something hell and high water won't stop her, much less a set of rag-tag, rebellious, teenage boys. The only problem is," Sam turned to Nan. "I don't think I'll be going into the prison with you."
Hurt flashed in Nan's eyes. "Are you that mad at him, Sam?"
"No, Nan, no. I ain't mad, it's just him and I have a bad history. You remember what happened the last time I went to see him?"
"He gave you a black eye because you forced him to marry Abbie Mae," Clinton offered. The rest of the family rolled their eyes and turned to glare at him.
"That was a rhetorical question, Clinton!" Michael snapped. "Rhetorical! You know, the kind ya don't answer?"
"I just don't think it's gonna be a good idea for me to meet with him just yet, I'll only make things tense. He still hates me for disappearing for ten years and then showing up out of nowhere and ordering him around."
Nan gave a grave nod. Seth and his father was a very bad combination at the moment.
"I could take her," Jimmy suddenly spoke up. "Like Clinton said I know that prison better than any of you. Heck, I've been inmate there many times. None of you seemed to take the news so badly back then though."
"That's cause you were locked in there for debt," Ruth suddenly retorted. "Goodwill and Haxton just had a deal with the jailor to keep you there until they got their money because they were afraid you'd run away and never give them their money. It wasn't a criminal act, just Jimmy unable to handle his finances."
Her statement produced a dark glance from Jimmy. "Blunt as usual," he grumbled but said nothing else. There was too much truth in her words and what worse, everyone else in the family knew about it, even four-year-old Eddie.
"Would you take me, Jimmy?" Nan turned to him.
"Would you trust me, Pa?" Jimmy turned the question over to his father.
A shadow crossed over Sam's face and he frowned. "I dunno," he grumbled. "Last time I entrusted Momma into yer care it ended with her nearly dying."
Jimmy huffed at this. "Why am I the villain today?" He muttered. "It's like everyone has nothing better to do but sit at this table and remember my faults. I've taken pretty good care of Michael the past couple of months, haven't I? He's stronger and healthier than he's been in ages. Even Uncle Ernest was impressed with how much our kid brother has improved."
"He's got a point," Michael decided to put in a good word for Jimmy.
Sam turned to his youngest son. "You think Jimmy can be trusted with taking Momma to the prison to see Seth?"
"Yes, I do," Michael replied immediately. "Trust him, Pa. Take him for who he is and not for what he was."
"Now how can I argue with that?" Sam chuckled. "Alright, Jimmy, you take Momma over to the prison. And you go in with her and you come out with her and you don't leave her side for one second, not one second, you hear me? Promise on the grave of yer dead Uncle David that you will bring her back safe and sound!"
"I promise," Jimmy vowed. "You can kill me if I don't."
"That won't bring me, yer mother, back," Sam replied. "So what good would it do James Carthwrite? When will you leave, Nan?"
"Tomorrow, first thing in the morning!" Nan stated. "I'll prepare breakfast for y'all and Cara will be here to fetch lunch and dinner."
"What of Abbie Mae?" Ruth suddenly spoke up. "That sheriff mentioned that he took her to the McFee farm on her insistence. Seth wanted her to come to us and for good reason. When her father sees her the way she is, and with a husband in jail, I don't think anything her mother will do will save her from," Ruth cast a glance at her little son, "from you know what."
"What? What?" Eddie tugged at her sleeve, but Ruth ignored him.
"Why did she even want to go back to that dreadful place," Clinton shook his head.
"Because her mother is there," Nan explained. "And Abbie Mae is attached to her. But Ruth is right, I don't like the idea of Abbie Mae living at home. Considering her condition, Fergus McFee can't be expected to play the loving, understanding father. It could end badly for her and for her unborn child."
There was silence as the family pondered.
"I'll go over to her," Ruth suddenly stated. "See how she is. Maybe I can convince her to come and stay with us. Their farm neighbors ours, her mother will be right nearby."
"I don't want you going over to McFee's!" Sam firmly stated. "That man is as bad as the devil. Drinking and violent, he hates visitors and the good Lord knows what he'll do to you."
"Sam!" Nan hissed. "Watch yer language."
"But Daddy," Ruth argued. "We've got to look out for Abbie Mae. She's a Carthwrite now, she one of the family. And I am the only one who can go because is you or one of the boys do, Fergus will start getting jealous that Hannah McFee is having an affair or something and that will end up a whole lot worse. C'mon! I've gone over there hundreds of times as a kid and rarely was noticed by evil old Fergus. And when I was spotted I always ran away. We can't leave here there, we just can't and you know that."
"Ruth is right, Sam," Nan agreed. "But please be careful, my dear, Fergus is not a man to be taken lightly."
"I know, Momma, I know."
With all the plans settled, the family ate their dinner with a heavy heart. The evening chores were complete and then everyone went to bed. Nan didn't feel like sleeping so she went out to get some of the cool, evening air on the front porch. Presently she was joined by Sam. Coming up from behind he wrapped his arms around her and she leaned back on him.
"I somehow knew this was coming, Sam," she whispered. "I had hoped otherwise, but when Elisha mentioned how Seth had said complicated matters kept him from Apple Wine, I knew it would end badly."
"But at least he's alive, Nan," Sam tried to sooth. "At least he's not lying dead after some drunken fight. It's not over, it's never over until you are dead."
Nan nodded her head and let out a sigh. "Of course, Sam, of course. I won't give up hope for him, we won't give up on him. Now is when he needs us the most and now is when he can't run from us, so now is the time to act." Turning her head, she stood up on her tip-toes. Sam got the hint and lowering his head, placed a soft, reassuring kiss on her lips.
"There is always hope, Nan," he whispered into her ear. "Though I think with this tree it will take more than the scent of water. We're gonna need rain. Lots and lots of rain."