Westward...

Westward, Ho-Boy
Installment 3
by Polgana Polly helped Gary get settled onto the sofa just behind the driver’s seat. Jake had thought he would be more comfortable in the queen sized bed in the rear of the coach, but the motherly tech had worried about her patient being trapped in the event of an accident. This had seemed an equitable compromise.

“I’ll go see what’s keeping the others,” Polly told him as she fastened two of the seat belts across him, then gave his pillow a final adjustment. “We need to put some distance between you and those two thugs.”

“I don’t know why you’re so worried about me” Gary murmured tiredly. “Clay’s the one they were after.”

“But you’re the one they caught,” Polly reminded him. She gently traced the diminished swelling around his left eye. “What is it about you, sweetie, that draws trouble like a magnet?”

“My charming personality?” Gary quipped. “Seriously, Polly, I’m okay. Go check on the others.”

“I’ll be right back,” she promised.

Gary settled back with a sigh as she went to round up the rest of their ‘road crew.’ He decided it wouldn’t hurt to take a little nap. His ‘therapy session’ had taken a lot out of him.

No sooner had his eyes closed than Gary heard an all too familiar ‘mrrowrr,‘ followed immediately by something plopping on his abdomen.   “Oww! God . . .” Biting back another cry of pain, he opened one eye cautiously, praying he was wrong. After all, he was a long way from Chicago. There he was, however, in all his orange tabby-ness, perched serenely on the arm of the sofa at Gary’s feet.

“One of these days,” Gary grumbled quietly, “you and I need to have a talk about priorities.” He picked up the Paper, tomorrow’s Las Vegas Times of course, and began to scan the headlines. “I don’t know how much good I can do if I keep landing in the . . . Oh, give me a break!”

VEHICULAR HOMICIDE CLAIMS FIVE. A late model Winnebago Brave was run off of CR 146 by a stolen semi at approximately 9:45 A.M. The incident took place on a stretch of highway that was still under construction with few witnesses present. Three of the passengers, Gary Hobson, 36, and Pauline Gannon, 47, of Chicago, and noted rodeo star Clay Treyton, also 36, were slain on impact. Treyton had been driving at the time. Two other passengers, Jake Evans and noted songwriter Buddy Jackson, both 36, were taken to Sunrise Hospital and Medical Center where they died later of injuries sustained in the incident. Evans was another Chicagoan, while Jackson was from the Houston area. Clay Treyton’s family lives in Uvalde, TX. The families of the victims were notified as soon as identifications could be made. Witnesses stated that the semi deliberately rammed the Winnebago several times, forcing the RV over a steep embankment. At this time Police are investigating the whereabouts of two escaped convicts who had been involved in an attack on one of the victims earlier this week.

Moving carefully so as not to further aggravate his jinjuries, Gary twisted around until he could reach the road atlas Polly had laid on the dinette earlier. He quickly turned to the inset of the Las Vegas area. County Road 146. Where . . . ? That seemed a little out of their way. Now why would they take that particular route? At almost the same moment, he heard voices approaching the door. Thinking quickly, he stuffed the Paper down under his blanket.

“I’ll drive the rental back to the airport,” Buddy was saying. “You can follow me in the RV and we can go on from there. We can take the bypass from there over to 146, and on to 515.”

“Isn’t 146 under construction?” Clay asked. “There’ll be a lot of ‘stop ‘n’ go’ if we take that route. Why not go down to Horizon Ridge Parkway? It’s not that far out of our way.”

Gary stole a glance at the Paper. No change. He looked toward the cat, only to find that the mystic feline had vanished once more. ‘How the hell does he keep doing that?’

“There’s roadblocks all over the Parkway,” Buddy was saying in answer to Clay’s question. “It’ll be just as much hassle either way.”

Gary had to do something now, or they were all dead!

“Um, excuse me, guys,” he said, instantly getting their attention. Sometimes it actually helped, being an invalid. “Could I make a suggestion? Why don’t we let Lundy or someone else take the car back for us? They’ve already got my credit card information. Then we can go straight from here, get on 515 or 582. It’s straighter and probably quicker.” With a larger police ‘presence,’ he secretly hoped.

The twins looked at each other and shrugged.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Buddy said. “I’ll go talk to Lundy and give him the keys to the rental. You guys be figuring out where you wanna go for breakfast.”

As Clay watched his twin disappear into the crowd, Gary peeked at the Paper once more. To his relief, the headline told of an increase in tourism thanks to the opening of a new attraction at one of the casinos. Maybe they could catch it sometime. Just . . . not today.

***************

As he’d hoped, they’d had to pass through several police roadblocks before leaving the vicinity of Las Vegas. Which suited Gary just fine. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw a semi-truck take an abrupt turn back the way it had come just before the first one.

Gary drifted in and out most of that first day. Not just because the scene at the fairgrounds had taken so much out of him, which it had. Mostly he was just bored. The scenery, what he could see of it from his makeshift bed, was flat and unchanging. There was nothing but the occasional cactus and prairie dog mound to break the monotony. Small towns dotted the map here and there, but were mostly set well back from the main roads. It took them almost two hours to reach the nearest Interstate, and they were on that less than an hour before they took the turnoff for Phoenix.

“We should reach Tucson by nightfall,” Clay told his passengers shortly after they turned onto State Road 93. “We’ll set up at an RV camp just the other side of town and start out again come first light.”

“Tha’s good,” Gary mumbled drowsily. “Could we stop at the next rest area? I need to walk around some. I’m feelin’ kinda . . . stiff.”

“Sure thing, cuz,” Buddy agreed, suppressing a yawn. He was slumped back in the recliner across the room from the sofa. “I’m feelin’ a little cramped myself. This may not ‘ve been our best idea. I’d forgotten how far it is between waterin’ holes out here.”

“Think of how it must’ve been on horseback,” Clay called back from the driver’s seat. “It took weeks to cover what we can drive across in just a coupla days. Wagon trains were pushin‘ it to go twenty-five miles in a day.”

“Maybe so,” Jake replied as he took Polly’s knight, “but there’s something to be said for city life. It’s never boring.” The two of them had the chessboard set up on the dinette table.

“I thought you were gonna teach me how to play this game?” the tech grumbled. “So far, all I’ve done is lose.”

“And it takes you a little longer to lose each game,” Jake assured her with a mischievous grin. “That means you’re learning.”

“If you say so,” Polly sighed, moving her rook to cover Jake‘s bishop. “Too bad that TV set up is all the way in the back. We could pop in a movie or something. I’ve always heard how ‘picturesque’ the west is, and it is beautiful, but there’s so danged much of it! A person could lose themselves out here and not even know it until it was too late.”

“That happened,” Clay murmured thoughtfully. “A lot. So, we gonna eat out for lunch, or pick up some fast f . . .?”

“OUT!” everyone chorused. Nobody wanted to ‘eat in!’

“Out it is, then,” their driver grinned.

*************

They had to stop every couple of hours and let Gary out to ‘stretch his legs.’ A luxury that none begrudged him as it gave each of them the same opportunity. It also gave them a chance to switch drivers. Jake was at the wheel when they finally pulled into the Gilbert Ray RV Campground late that evening. As he pulled up to the office, Clay jumped out and ran inside, emerging a few minutes later to direct them to their assigned campsite.

As soon as the huge vehicle was parked and everything hooked up, Clay excused himself to finish up the paperwork at the main office.

“You do that,” Buddy called after his twin. “I’m gonna see if I can hitch a ride into town.” He waved a hand toward a brick barbeque grill just a few feet away. “It’d be a shame to let that thing go to waste. I thought we could fire that baby up and grill a few steaks. Or I could just walk down to that little ‘Mom and Pop’ store we passed on the way in.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Jake agreed. “Want me to go with you?”

“Naw,” Buddy shrugged. “It’s not far and I can carry what little we need. You could go ahead and get the coals hot while I’m gone. Someone left half a bag of charcoal next to the grill. I checked it out and it hasn’t been there long.”

Jake nodded and set to work cleaning the grate. Whoever had been there last had not felt obliged to remove their debris. Half an hour later, he leaned back from his grimy task. Wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, he left a thick streak of soot behind. He jumped, startled as something draped itself across his shoulders. ‘Where did this towel . . .?’ He looked up to see Polly holding out a clear plastic bucket. Inside the pail he could see a bar of soap and a washcloth.

“Why don’t you go down to the lake and clean up a little?” she suggested. “I can finish up here. Believe it or not, cookin’ out is almost a religion in the south. Right up there with huntin’, fishin’, and NASCAR.”

“You sure?” Jake asked as he took the pail from her, shifting the towel onto one shoulder. “We don’t want to let it burn down too soon.”

His middle-aged friend just smiled and waved him away. “Leave everything to ‘Aunt Polly,’ Bubba,” she told him. “Just go. Get yourself cleaned up. The twins should be back soon.”

Jake took a few steps towards the water, then paused as he looked back at the RV. “What about Gary?” he asked. “Think he’d like to get out some?”

Polly shook her head as she arranged the briquettes on the grate. “He was still asleep when I checked on ‘im just now,” she replied. “Let ‘im rest until dinner’s ready.” Wordlessly, Jake nodded as he continued on his way.

A few minutes later, Polly had the coals burning nicely. Knowing that it would take a few minutes for them to burn down, she went back inside to prepare the rest of the meal. After all, they had to have something besides meat. She found Gary trying to unfasten the two seatbelts she had used to secure him to the sofa.

“Here,” she said, reaching for the one around his legs. “Let me get that. How are you feeling?”

“Pretty good,” he replied, giving her an easy smile. “No nightmares. That I can recall, anyway. Are we in Tucson, already?”

“Already!” Polly snorted as she helped him sit up. “It’s almost 7:30. You slept right through
Phoenix and almost into suppertime. Hungry?”

“Starved,” Gary admitted. He used the cane to cautiously lever himself upright, swaying unsteadily for just a moment. “Do I have time to walk around a little? I need to loosen up some.”

“Buddy’s not back with the steaks, yet,” Polly shrugged. “You should have a few minutes.” She searched through the refrigerator. “You want a baked potato? I need to go ahead and put ‘em on the fire, if you do.” At Gary’s silent nod, she set about preparing the food for the fire. “Just tell me how you like your steak and go on,” she told him. “If you’re not back in thirty minutes, we’ll come lookin’ for ya.”

Shaking his head and trying to smother a grin, Gary carefully descended the few steps leading outside. ‘That’s all I need,’ he mused with an inward chuckle. ‘Another Mom.’

*************

Emmett Wilson was a thin, gawky looking man of middle years. He and his wife were driving across the country on their first vacation since their youngest son had left for college in the fall. They had chosen this time of year on the theory that the campgrounds would be less crowded, and they’d been right. It also proved to have milder weather than in the summer, which pleased Beatrice immensely.

Emmett was headed toward a small hill, which rose near the RV camp. He was hoping to find a good spot to set up his telescope, when he encountered the nice young man leaning on a cane. The other man had seemed startled, at first, staring at Emmett as if he expected the other man to attack. His free arm pressed itself across his ribs protectively. He covered his reaction quickly, but still seemed apprehensive. They struck up a cautious acquaintance when Gary, as he had introduced himself, made appreciative remarks about Emmett’s stargazing equipment.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Emmett commented after a few minutes, “what happened to your face? Were you in a fight?”

“S-something like that,” Gary shrugged, wincing. “More of a mugging. Um, you guys planning on staying here a few days, or moving on right away?”

‘A mugging,’ Emmett thought. ’That explains it.’ “Beatrice wants to take in some of the local attractions,” the smaller man replied with a sigh. “I wanted to head straight up to Flagstaff, but,” he shrugged, “we‘ve got plenty of time. You?”

“Just passing through,” the younger man shrugged. “Well, I’d better head back. My friends are probably getting worried about me by now. Nice meeting you, Emmett.”

“Same here,” Emmett grinned. “Take care, Gary.”

Emmett continued toward the hill on a path that led him past the main office as his new friend turned to go back the way he had come. A few minutes later, he heard the crunch of footsteps on the gravel path ahead. To his surprise, a familiar figure stepped around a bend in the trail and into the safety light. His clothes were a little different, he wore a dark colored Stetson and he was walking without assistance of any kind, otherwise he was identical in size and build to the man Emmett had just parted company with.

“Gary?”

The other man looked around, grinning shyly as he met Emmett’s startled gaze. “You must’ve met my cousin,” he shrugged. “I’ve been told we bear a strong resemblance. Clay Treyton,” he added, sticking out his hand. Emmett shook it hesitantly, his mouth still open in an astonished ‘Oh!’

“Strong is an understatement,” Emmett replied with a shake of his head. “Wow! Were you two mugged by the same guys? He looked a little more beat up than you do.”

Clay shook his head sadly. “Is that what he said happened?” he asked. “Gary wasn’t mugged. Some old . . . ‘acquaintances’ of mine tried to take him apart. He just got out of the hospital this morning. Don’t mention it to ‘im, though. He’s tryin’ real hard to put it behind him. We’re just lettin’ ‘im work through it at his own pace.”

“Man!” Emmett sighed. “I’m glad you said something. My wife is a psychologist, and she knows all about ‘Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.’ I was just thinking he should see someone, because of the mugging. Knowing it was deliberate . . .and so fresh! Maybe you’d like her to talk with him?”

“We’re keepin’ a close eye on him,” Clay shrugged. “So far, he’s handlin’ this better than most. Besides, we’re headin’ out pretty early. Say,” he added, waving a hand at Emmett’s gear, “you thinkin’ of settin’ up on that little hill behind the park?”

“That was my plan,” the little man admitted. “Why?”

“I was askin’ the manager about that just now,” the wrangler replied. “Gary’s got a getup sorta like that back in Chicago, only not as fancy. I thought I’d fix up a little surprise for ‘im later, but we‘re not gonna have time. That hill is private property, though, with signs posted everywhere. The manager suggested settin’ up in a clearing down by the lake. You just follow this path back the way you came and take the left fork.   He said you get a real good view from there.”

“Thanks,” Emmett said, shifting his burden slightly. “You saved me a long hike for nothing. The left fork?”

At Clay’s nod, he turned and headed back the way he had come. Clay accompanied him as far as the fork, where they finally parted company. Emmett was still musing over how much the cousins resembled each other when he reached the clearing. It was a huge area, covering at least an acre and a half. Picnic tables were scattered here and there around a couple of huge steel drums that had been converted into smoker/grills. A trail at one end of the clearing led to a little bluff overlooking the lake.

Emmett found what he considered the ideal spot. It was a little over ten feet in from the water’s edge and almost perfectly level. He was just setting down his burden when he became aware of splashing noises accompanied by muttered cursing. Curious, he looked around, quickly spotting a darkly silhouetted figure kneeling at the water’s edge.

“What does it take to get this stuff off?” someone was grumbling? He dipped his hands into a nearby bucket, scrubbing his hands together briskly. “What the hell’ve they been cooking in that thing?”

“You must’ve been cleaning one of the grills,” Emmett chuckled, startling the other man.   Stepping forward, he pulled a small flashlight out of his pocket and shone it on the kneeling figure. As the light revealed the other man’s startled features, Emmett almost dropped the light. “Gary? You . . . you can’t be Clay. I just left him on the trail a few minutes ago! And what . . . what happened to your bruises?”

The other man stood slowly, both hands open at his sides. “I’m Jake Evans,” he said. “I wasn’t in that fight. Do you have anything that’ll cut through this crap? This soap Polly gave me just isn’t up to the job.”

Emmett stepped in closer, shining the light over the other man’s features. The resemblance to the other two was incredible! “Um, y-you might check your supplies for one of those citrus based cleansers,” he suggested. “They work pretty good. Or some gasoline will do in a pinch. Man, you guys must be clones! There’s no way for three people to look that much alike and not be related.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Jake chuckled. “Household cleanser or gasoline, huh? Well, it’s got to beat going around with this God awful crap on my hands,” he added, holding his still grimy hands up to the light.

Emmett started to say something else when he heard voices coming down the trail. A moment later, two men emerged from the sparse undergrowth.

“Jake?” one of them called. “You plannin’ on makin’ a career outta washin’ yo’re hands?”

The little man shone his light on the two newcomers, expecting to see one of them leaning on a cane. Both men stood straight and without support. Both looked enough alike to be twins. Emmett was beginning to feel a headache coming on. This was not possible! Not four of them!

“Hey, Emmett,” one of them said with a wave. “I see you’ve already met Jake. This here’s my brother, Buddy.”

‘Yes,’ Emmett decided. ‘I’m definitely getting a headache.’

*******************

“Poor guy was lookin’ a little green around the gills,” Buddy chuckled as he cut another bite out of his steak. “I think he’s gonna be havin’ a long talk with his wife, the psychiatrist, tonight.”

“She’s a psychologist,” Clay corrected his brother.

“Psychiatrist, psychologist,” Buddy shrugged. “What’s the difference?”

“One can use drugs,” Polly explained, “the other can’t. She could follow our back trail ‘n’ pickup a lot of business, though. That steak okay, Gary? You’ve hardly touched it.”

Gary sat back, pushing his plate away with a weary sigh. “Guess I wasn’t as hungry as I thought,” he told her. Retrieving his cane, he gingerly levered himself to his feet. “I’m going down to the lake for a bit. A-anyone care to . . . ?” His words tapered off as he shifted uncomfortably.

“Give me a second,” Polly replied around a bite of potato. “I need to walk off this meal, anyway. My jeans are gettin’ way too tight.” She washed down the morsel with a sip of water, then arose from the picnic table to join her friend. “You guys mind cleanin’ up?”

“Gotcha covered, Polly,” Clay nodded. “Ya’ll behave, now.” He laughed as Polly gave him a light cuff on the side of his head.

“Idjit,” she chuckled. “We won’t be long.”

The twins and Jake kept up a patter of small talk until they were sure the others were out of earshot.

“Gary’s not lookin’ so good,” Buddy murmured. “Does he seem . . . nervous to you?”

“I think he’s goin’ through some of that ‘Post Traumatic’ whatever Emmett was talkin’ about,” Clay remarked grimly. “He was actin’ real skittish when he got back from his walk earlier tonight. Now he wants to go out again, like he’s got to prove somethin’ to himself.”

Jake took a second to swallow his food before joining in the conversation. “From what you’ve told me,” he said, “Gary’s been through more trauma in the past eighteen months than most people have in a lifetime. He’s lucky just to be alive.”

“Amen to that,” Buddy replied, shaking his head sadly. “Bad enough to be attacked in broad daylight. He must be twice as jumpy at night, when he can’t see it comin’. Wish we could’ve caught those two before we left. It might’ve set his mind at ease some.”

“Just wish there was some way we could help him,” Clay grumbled. “I don’t like feelin’ this . . . useless.”

“All we can do is be there,” Jake told them kindly. “Gary has to work through this on his own. He’s already taken the biggest step, when he went back to where it happened. Now, he just has to convince himself that he’s really survived it. That he’s going to be okay.”

“Maybe then he can convince us,” Buddy mumbled.

****************

They walked down to the clearing in companionable silence, Polly linking her right arm through Gary’s left, being careful not to put any extra stress on his injured ribs. She didn’t want to push him. Having worked at her profession for almost twenty years, she had learned a few things about stress and how it affected people. Gary had been pushing the limits on PTSD for as long as she had known him. He always managed to come to terms with whatever demons haunted him, but always in his own way. In his own good time. This time would be no different.

Gary led her to a bench facing the lake. A fingernail sliver of moon cast sparkling highlights on the wind driven wavelets. The same wind created a gentle murmur in the surrounding trees. They sat there for a few minutes, staring out at the water and not saying a word. Finally . . .

“Why are you here, Polly?”

The question, coming out of the blue like that, confused her. “S’cuse me?”

“Why did you follow us out to Las Vegas?” he asked. “I thought you couldn’t get the time off.”

“Oh, that.” Polly shrugged, leaning back and stretching her legs out with a sigh. “I had a dream.”

“A dream?” Gary asked, giving her an incredulous look. “You flew all the way from Chicago because of a dream?” He sat forward, staring out at the lake. “Must’ve been a real corker. You have these dreams a lot?”

“Since I was a kid,” his friend admitted. “I seem to . . . ‘connect’ . . . sorta , with certain people. Not everyone, and not all the time. Whenever I make this . . . ‘connection’, then I seem to know when they need help. It’s not an ‘all the time,’ 24/7 thing,” she elaborated. “I guess you could just say I hit the ‘high spots.’ Anyway, I had this dream that you were in trouble. That’s all. I woke up feelin’ like I had to get out here yesterday. So, I hopped the first flight to ‘Vegas, and there was Jake. We’d finished up all the paperwork the day before, and he’d had his seat booked a week in advance. It was just luck we got there when we did. Five minutes later . . .” She hugged herself and shivered as the image of light glinting off that knife blade flashed through her mind.

“Yeah,” Gary sighed. “I know. Did I ever thank you two for saving my life?”

“We figured you’d get around to it when the shock wore off,” Polly replied with a grin he felt more than saw in the dim moonlight. “So, you ready to talk about tonight?”

Gary was instantly on alert. “What about tonight?”

“You left out for your walk feelin’ pretty good,” she reminded him. “When you came back, you were white as a sheet. Doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. Somethin’ spooked ya.”

Silence. Polly looked up at her young friend, who sat hunched over as if trying to shrink in on himself. ‘Too soon,’ she thought. ‘It’s still too fresh in his mind.’

“No big deal,” she said, stretching lazily. “Whenever you’re ready. You’re a Virgo, aren’t you?”

“Wha, um, yeah,” he replied, confused by the sudden change of topic. “Why?”

“Can you see it from here this time of year?” Polly asked, waving at the gleaming vault above them. “I’ve never been able to pick out anything but the Dippers and Orion.”

“Really?” he asked, clearly surprised. “I had you pegged for the ‘outdoorsy’ type. You’ve never laid out under the stars and picked out all the constellations?”

“Are you kiddin’?” she snorted. “I was one of five rambunctious young‘uns. My folks never had time for things like that. Besides, we moved around too much when I was little. We missed out on all that ‘bonding’ stuff parents used to do with their kids.”

A slow grin erased the wariness from his muddy green eyes as he accepted her invitation to simply ‘kick back and relax.’ “Then let’s see what we can do about upgrading your education,” he told her. “Let’s start with what you already know.”

As they talked, picking out the known constellations and making up outrageous, silly, names for new ones, he was soon able to set aside the fear and apprehension that had plagued him earlier. Maybe having another ‘Mom’ along wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

******************

“So what did you two kids talk about last night?” Buddy asked Polly as he guided the RV back onto the interstate. He half turned in the driver’s seat to give her an amused look. “That ‘short walk’ certainly took longer than a few minutes.”

“Are you insinuatin’ that we were up to somethin’?” his passenger asked in a slightly ‘dangerous’ tone. “‘Cause, if you are, need I remind you that Gary and I are the only ones here certified in CPR?”

“Hunh?” Buddy snorted, wondering where she was going with that remark. “What’s that got to do with what we were talkin’ about?”

“Just thought I’d mention that Gary’s in no shape to be bringin’ you back after I strangle you,” she told him. “He needed company. That’s all. No pressure. No strings. Just something to get his mind off things for a while.”

“So you two just sat and talked about nothin’ for two hours?” Buddy asked skeptically. “You really expect me to buy that?”

“What you believe or don’t is your problem,” she sighed, staring straight ahead. “Just don’t go raggin’ Gary about it. When he’s ready to let us in, he will. ‘Til then, all we can do is sit and listen. Last night, he needed a friend. So we talked about astronomy for a while. He’s really a pretty sharp cookie, once you hit on somethin’ that piques his interest. You should try gettin’ to know him a little better. You might find you two have a lot more in common than just your good looks.”

Thoroughly chastised, Buddy turned his eyes back to the road ahead. “Do ya think he’s gonna be okay?” he asked quietly. “I mean, he’s been through a lot. More ‘n’ I like to think about. Is he gonna be able to bounce back from this?”

“I think so,” Polly assured him confidently. “Bad as this was, what he went through this time last year was a lot worse. It took time, but he got past it.” She looked back to where her patient was again strapped to the sofa. Gary was propped up on a couple of pillows, trying to read a novel she had picked up for him before they left Las Vegas.   “He’ll get past this, too.”

*****************

They took their time, again stopping every two hours or so to stretch their legs. This was more for Gary’s benefit than anyone else. In this manner, they reached Las Cruces, New Mexico by lunch time. Pulling up at a secluded diner south of town, Clay assisted Gary as the five of them entered the little eatery and seated themselves at a table in the back. Ignoring the open stares of the other patrons, they ordered their meal, talking quietly until it was served.

“We’ll be in Sonora by this evenin’,” Buddy told them as he dug into a big bowl of chili. “From there we can stay on the main road south to Del Rio and then to Uvalde, or we could take the back roads through Rock Springs and save almost thirty-five miles. Not that it’ll be any quicker,” he warned them. “These back roads can be pretty rough in spots, and there’s a lot more ‘stop ‘n’ go’ traffic. Either way, we can be there before lunch time tomorrow.”

“If we take it slow ‘n’ easy,” Polly mused, trying not to look directly at Gary, “we should be all right taking the shorter route. On the other hand, there’s more likely to be rest areas along the main roads.”

“Are we in all that big of a hurry?” Clay grumbled as he sullenly stirred his food. “I vote for the main road. Uvalde ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Alerted by the odd tone of his voice, the other four eyed him speculatively.

“You wanna talk about it?” Jake asked. “It’ll give us something to gossip about besides Gary.”

“Yes,” Gary was quick to agree. “Let’s talk about something else. Please.” He was stirring his spoon in a bowl of chicken soup. For some reason, that was the only thing on the menu that had appealed to him. One look at the large variety of ‘Southwestern’ and Mexican foods, and his stomach had done a slow roll. Maybe it was just as well that he had been unable to touch his steak the night before. “You, um, you’ve kinda dropped hints, now and then, that you and your family are having . . . problems.”

“No problems,” Clay shrugged. “We just haven’t spoken since a coupla years before I went to prison. They didn’t wanna have anything t’do with me before I hit it big on the rodeo circuit, and I didn’t see any point in tryin’ to change their minds after. No big deal.”

“But you said you talked to your mom before she died,” Buddy reminded him. “That she told you about me then.”

Clay poked at his food dispiritedly before answering. “That . . . that wasn’t entirely true,” he admitted hesitantly. “Her . . . lawyer sent me a package a few months after . . . It was the first I knew she was even sick. Anyway, it was a set of diaries she’d been keepin’ since she run off. That’s how I found out . . . everything. About you, me, the cancer. All of it. I was still kinda . . . numb, just knowin’ she was gone. I guess . . . I guess I was feelin’ cheated that I wasn’t given the chance to say good-bye. I-I know I was a real . . . but she was my mom! They could’ve found some way to let me know.”

Buddy impulsively placed a hand on his brother’s arm, giving it a rough shake. “I guess they didn’t think about that,” he murmured sadly. “Sometimes people can’t get past their own anger.” He grinned ruefully as he sat back once more. “I should know. I held a grudge against Dusty for three years before it finally sunk in that I was the one who screwed up. Once I got past that, I was able to get on with my life. It didn’t make up for everything I missed out on because of bein’ ‘blackballed,’ but it got me back on the right path.”

Feeling uncomfortable on his cousins’ behalf, Gary glanced around the room. He found that almost every eye in the place was aimed their way, which only made him even more edgy.

“Do, um, do you think we could finish up and go?” he asked nervously, trying not to stare back at anyone. “I-I’m beginning to feel like the star of a freak show.”

Polly, too, gave the other patrons a quick glance. She got a mischievous gleam in her eyes as she bit back a grin. Suddenly, she stood up and directed an angry glare around the room.

“Didn’t yo’re mamas ever teach you it ain’t polite to stare?” she growled at the curious on-lookers as she snatched up the check. Stalking toward the register, she continued to grumble just loud enough to be heard. “You’d think there was somethin’ wrong with a woman takin’ her boys out for a little R&R.” Polly winked at the cashier as she paid the check, adding a generous tip. She then led the exodus out of the diner, apparently ignoring all the slack-jawed stares.

“What the hell was that all about?” Jake asked. “Do you have any idea what those people are probably thinking right now?”

“Yup,” Polly grinned. “Instead of ponderin’ the uncanny resemblance, they’re wonderin’ at the fortitude it took to raise the four of you.” She glanced back, relieved to see Clay hovering protectively near his cousin. “Now let’s get this show back on the road, fellas. Before I embarrass myself any further.”

“Embarrass, my foot,” Buddy grumbled. “You enjoyed that scene!”

Polly turned to him with a feigned look of surprise. “Why Buddy! Whatever gave you that idea? I wasn‘t enjoying that one bit!” She spun on her heel and continued toward their vehicle. “I was lovin’ it.”

**************

The trip to Sonora was long, tedious and uneventful. They set up at an RV camp a few miles south of town early that evening. After a light supper, Polly and Jake helped Gary get settled into the Queen-sized bed in the back.

“You guys don’t have to keep tucking me in,” Gary protested as Polly pulled the covers up to his chest. “I’m a big boy. I can even tie my own shoelaces.”

“Not right now, you can’t,” Jake reminded him. “You can’t bend that far, pal.” The young banker looked over at their ‘house mother.’ “We should probably find a doctor tomorrow,” he reminded her. “Buddy and Clay need to get their stitches out.”

“Got it covered,” Polly assured him. “The manager suggested we stop in at Loma Alta on our way south. It’s an itty bitty place, but it has an emergency clinic. Nothin’ fancy, but it gets the job done. We can be there in an hour.”

“So we’ve decided to go stick to the main roads?” Jake asked as he adjusted Gary’s pillow. “Good. I wasn’t thrilled about the idea of those back roads.”

Polly shot him an amused look as she smoothed the covers. “The main roads are in better repair,” she admitted, “and it’s not that much further. We can still be in Uvalde by lunch time.” She jumped slightly when a hand was suddenly waved in front of her face.

“Remember me?” Gary grumbled. “The guy you two are tucking in? Do I get to join in the conversation?”

“No,” Polly told him, placing the remote in his hand. “You get to watch TV for a while, then hit the sack. Ah! No arguments. I’ll be back to check on you before I turn in. If you need anything before that, use this.” She laid a small two-way radio on the nightstand.

“Fine,” Gary sighed. “So who’s bunking with me tonight?”

“I am.” Jake shrugged. “Unless you’d rather change roommates.”

“N-no,” Gary was quick to assure his friend. “I was just wondering . . . wh-where do you sleep, Polly?”

“With the exception of the recliner,” she told him with a smile, “every piece of furniture in this rolling hotel folds out into a bed. I sleep very comfortably . . . and alone, thank you very much.”

Gary’s face took on a definite crimson hue as the implications of his innocent question sank in.

“N-no!” he protested. “Th-that’s not . . . I only meant . . . No way did I . . .” He flopped back with a pained grimace, unable to find a graceful way out of his faux pas. “I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

“I know,” Polly replied with a gentle chuckle. “Now, get some rest, Gary. Tomorrow we meet Clay’s family for the first time and we’d all like to look our best. G’night.”

“G’night, Polly,” Gary murmured as he pulled the covers over his still flaming features. “Just let me know when it’s safe to come out.”

**************

“Will you stop scratching at that?” Jake admonished one of the twins as they exited the tiny clinic. “You’re gonna make it bleed.”

“It itches,” Clay grumbled as he stuffed both hands in his pockets. “Gettin’ the stitches pulled out only made it worse. How much longer to Del Rio?”

“Less than an hour,” Polly assured him as she studied the road atlas. “Then another hour to our destination. You feelin’ all right, Clay?”

“I’m fine,” he muttered sullenly. “Let’s go. The sooner we’re there, the sooner we can leave.”

“With that kinda attitude,” the tech grumbled sarcastically, “it’s no wonder they’re so glad to see you.”

***************

A little after ten o’clock Clay stopped the RV in front of a rather large, two-story ranch-style log home. Off to their left was a large horse barn attached to an even larger corral. Two golden palominos were prancing playfully in the enclosure.

“Welcome to ‘Ranchero Treyton,’ folks,” Clay murmured. He sat there, staring out of the windshield, until the front door of the house opened. A tall, lean, gray haired man stepped out onto the front porch, staring back at the vehicle. Clay stood up from the driver’s seat with a sigh and moved to help Polly remove the restraints holding Gary to the sofa. “Dad’s home, at least,” he told them. “Most likely, Claire and her kids are around somewhere. The others are probably out tendin’ the stock. They’ll be here in time for lunch. That’s when things’ll get . . .”

“Ugly?” Gary ventured hesitantly, as he gingerly rose to his feet. “If it’s that bad, we don’t have to do this.”

Clay looked over to where his brother was staring anxiously out the side window at the house. “Yes, we do,” he replied softly. “Buddy has a right to meet the rest of his family.” He held on to Gary as his cousin found his balance. “C’mon. This won’t hurt . . . much.” He paused in the doorway, looking back at the others. “Ya’ll might wanna let me go first,” he cautioned them. “We may not be on such good terms, but I don’t wanna give my dad a heart attack.”

“Good point,” Jake winced. “We’ll wait here.” He helped Gary back to the sofa, then took a seat beside him.

“Are you sure about this, Clay?” Buddy asked. “It might not be so bad if the two of us . . .”

Clay just shook his head sadly before turning to his twin with a grim look. “Please, Buddy? Let me go first, break it to ‘im gently.”

Reluctantly, Buddy nodded, sitting back down in the recliner. He was careful to keep low, so as not to be seen from the window.

Clay continued down the narrow steps and onto the driveway.   Pausing, just for a moment, to gather his failing courage, he walked around the front of the vehicle to face his father. He stood there, not saying a word as he waited for the older man to make the first move.

“You’re lookin’ good, boy,” Dwight Treyton observed neutrally.

“Good to see you, too, Pa,” Clay replied. He shifted his feet nervously as the silence stretched between them. Finally, “Hear you took first place at the county fair again. What was it? The Black Angus?”

“Thought that would be a bit beneath your notice these days,” the older man commented dryly. “What with you bein’ a big rodeo star and all.”

Clay bit back an angry retort. ‘We’re here for Buddy,’ he reminded himself. ‘I can hang in there one day, at least.’ “I’m not here to start a fight,” he said out loud. “You and . . . and Ma . . . you never . . . Why didn’t you tell me I had a brother, Pa?”

Startled, the older man looked at him like he had lost his mind. “You been throwed one time too many, boy?” he asked. “Why would we need to tell ya about Jamie or Phil? You were there when they were . . .”

“I’ve got Ma’s diaries, Pa!” Clay snapped angrily. “I-I know about my twin, him bein’ stolen, everything. What I want to know is . . . why didn’t ya’ll tell me while she was still alive? Why . . . why couldn’t ya’ll just . . . just talk to me? Why did I have to find out about all this when it was too late to ask any questions? Do ya’ll hate me that much?”

Stunned, Dwight Treyton slowly stepped down off the porch. “Is that what you think?” he asked. “That we hated you?”

“What else was I supposed to think?” Clay’s tone was bitter, confused. “Nothin’ I did was right. No . . . no matter how hard I tried, you two always looked at me like . . .like somethin’ was missin’. Like I was always comin’ up short. I had to find out from Uncle Dave that . . . that you weren‘t my real Pa. You couldn‘t even tell me that!”

The older man took another hesitant step. “We . . . we wanted to spare you that,” he confessed. “I thought there wasn’t any need for you to know that . . . that you were . . . that they were never really . . .”

“That I was a bastard?” Clay finished bitterly. “I thought that was why ya’ll acted the way you did. Th-that she looked at me and saw some . . . some monster she’d conceived in sin.” Angrily he looked away, hands balled into fists at his side. “Why couldn’t you just tell me she was still grievin’?” he asked plaintively. “Just . . . just knowin’ why would’ve helped me understand. It . . . it would’ve been . . . been lettin’ me in, instead of shuttin’ me out.”

Hesitantly, Clay’s father walked up to his stepson. “That’s the most you’ve said to me in almost ten years,” he murmured softly. “We didn’t hate you, Clay. If you’ve really read all yo’re mama’s diaries, then you have to know that.”

“I do,” Clay sighed, “now. Would’ve been nice if I’d known before . . . Why couldn’t ya’ll even let me know she was sick? I’d ‘ve been here in a heartbeat.”

It was Dwight’s turn to look hurt and confused. “I did send word,” he protested. “Ellie told me she left word with yo’re girlfriend. What was her name? Belinda! That was it. Belinda Travis.”

Clay ducked his head as understanding sank in. “Pa,” he sighed, “I’ve had a lot of girlfriends, but none of them was named Belinda. Travis or otherwise. I think we need to talk with Ellie.” He glanced back as the RV’s door opened just a crack. “But first, there’s someone I think you need to meet. Mama mentioned, in her diaries, that she had reason to believe my twin was still alive.”

“I know,” his stepfather sighed. “It was all that kept her goin’ near the end. I didn’t want to be the one to tell her it was a lost cause. If the baby was in that car when it wrecked, there wasn’t a chance in Hell of it surviving.”

“Then you must’ve been lookin’ in the wrong direction,” Clay told him with a sly grin. “Buddy! It’s safe to come out, now.” As his twin eased out of the vehicle, Clay turned back to face his stepfather. “I ran into a few interestin’ people in Chicago recently,” he said. “First of all, let me introduce Mr. Buddy Jackson, a songwriter with several tunes on the country top forty. He‘s also my missing twin.”

As Buddy stepped around to the front of the vehicle, Dwight Treyton fell back a step in surprise. “Oh my Lord,” he murmured. “She was right all along.” He stepped forward once more until he was able to reach out a hand and touch his long lost stepson’s face. “You two could be two peas from the same pod.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Treyton,” Buddy grinned shyly, shaking his hand. “Um, I guess I get to introduce the others. Clay ’n’ me didn’t just run into each other. We met up with the help of some of Mama’s folks in Chicago. This is Gary Hobson and Jake Evans. Gary’s kin on his mama’s side, and we ain’t yet figgered where Jake fits into this mess.”

Stunned, the older Treyton stared as the other two stepped into view. Gary was leaning heavily on his cane, with Jake lending additional support on his left. “H-how do you do, Mr. Treyton,” Gary greeted their host nervously. “Nice . . . nice to meet you. Clay’s told us almost nothing about you.”

“And what little he has was all bad, I’ll bet,” the older man chuckled. “If this don’t beat all! Damn! You went out and got mixed up with one o’ those copyin’ machines, boy? You forgot to tell it when to quit!” He looked the four men over from head to toe, finally turning to get a closer look at Gary. “I’ve seen men in better shape after a stampede,” he muttered, wincing in sympathy as he noticed the younger man’s battered features. “Did you at least get a steak outta the deal?”

“N-no, sir,” Gary stammered. “I was, um . . . C-could we talk about something else? Please?”

“Sure thing, boy,” Dwight quickly agreed. “Let’s get you inside where . . .Hello?”

“Howdy,” Polly grinned at the older man. “The boy’s seem to’ve forgotten their manners.
I’m Polly Gannon, a friend of Gary’s. Pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Treyton replied, craning his neck to look around the RV. “Anybody else in there, or did ya’ll finally run outta room?”

“We have room for one more,” Polly replied mischievously, “but we couldn’t get ‘im to fit us into his schedule.” She placed a hand on Gary’s arm. “You need to walk around a bit first, Gary?”

“I’m okay,” he assured her. “Let’s not keep the man waiting.”

****************

“Claire ‘n’ her husband will be back shortly,” Dwight said to his guests. He gave his stepson a pitying look. “She’s still riled about you bustin’ up her weddin’ reception, Clay. You might have to eat a little crow on that one.”

“Believe it or not,” Clay winced, “I figured that out for myself. I just hope the wedding present I picked up for her in El Paso will make up for it. A little bit, anyways. Where ‘re Jamie, Ellie and Phil?”

“Ellie’s in town,” the older man replied. “She should be back any minute. Jamie and Phil are out checkin’ the fence line. They may not be back ‘til this evening.” His eyes kept drifting from one man to the next. “If this don’t beat all. And none o’ you had any idea the others existed?”

“Not a clue,” Jake chuckled nervously. “Poor Gary was up to his neck in trouble at the time,” he added with a sidelong glance at his fellow Chicagoan. “By the time I entered the picture, he was a nervous wreck. Bolted from my office like he’d just seen the Devil himself.”

“That’s enough, Jake,” Polly admonished him. “Gary’s been reminded of that a little too often for my taste. We’re supposed to be helpin’ him relax.”

“Thank you,” Gary murmured wearily. They had settled him into an overstuffed easy chair. The others were arranged on the sofa with Dwight facing them from another easy chair. “I’d only been out of the hospital less than a week when we met Jake,” he explained to their host. “I, um, I wasn’t at my best.”

“If you’ll pardon my sayin’,” Dwight commented dryly, “it looks like they let you out a day or so too soon. What were you in the hospital for?”

“Um, collapsed lung,” Gary replied softly. “At first. C-complications set in, and . . . and I was in there for . . . for quite a while.”

Buddy, who was sipping on a glass of iced tea, almost choked at the word ‘complications.’ A sharp look and a headshake from Polly cautioned him to silence. She was right, he realized. Dragging up recent history would do Gary little good. If he wanted the story told, he should be the one to tell it.

Their silent exchange didn’t go unnoticed by the others. Gary flashed his friends a tired smile before he continued.

“That was a few weeks ago,” he elaborated. “We came out to Las Vegas . . . to relax,” he added with a dry chuckle. “So, of course, I was attacked by two goons who put me back in the hospital. Just got out day before yesterday.” In spite of having awakened only recently, Gary’s eyes were beginning to grow heavy once more. A fact that was not lost on his self-appointed protector.

“You wanna go lie down a while, Gary?” she asked in genuine concern.

“I’m okay,” he assured her. “Besides, I’ve been lying down most of this past week. What I need is just to . . . to walk around a little.”

Dwight Treyton pushed himself to his feet. “Then let me show you folks my humble spread,” he suggested. “Clay, you might like to see the new riding stock. Ellie talked me into investing in show jumpers, of all things. Got a coupla two-year-olds that she’s tryin’ to break.”

Clay and Buddy both moved to help their cousin to his feet, but Polly waved them off. “Let me see those wrists first,” she said. With a martyred sigh, Gary held up both arms for her inspection. “You’ve been leanin’ pretty heavy on that cane,” she reminded him as she peeled back the bandage on his right wrist. “Just wanted to make sure you haven’t put too much stress on those skin grafts.” Satisfied with what she saw, Polly replaced the gauze wrapping, then repeated the process on the left. “I reckon you’ll do,” she finally reported. “You can help him up, now.”

The twins carefully took hold of Gary’s elbows, giving him the leverage he needed to get to his feet. He swayed unsteadily for a moment as he fought to regain his balance. Finally, he nodded to indicate that he was okay. Taking his cane in his right hand, the left hugged up against his injured ribs, Gary stepped away from the chair.

“It’s okay, guys,” he murmured quietly, embarrassed by the attention. “I can make it from here. L-let’s not keep your dad waiting.”

Mr. Treyton led the way toward the stables, his unusual visitors straggling behind him. Polly hung back slightly, keeping pace with the disabled member of her party. As a result, she was in a better position to see the look on Gary’s face as they neared the cavernous doorway. The closer he got, the more it appeared he wanted to be somewhere else. Despite his little ‘therapy session’ back in Las Vegas, Gary was still carrying a huge load of fear and apprehension.

“You don’t have to go in there,” she told him. “The others will understand.”

“That’s not why I’m doing it, Polly,” he sighed. “Running from it won’t help. Might as well just jump right in and get it over with.”

Gary stepped through the open doorway with barely noticeable hesitation. Together with Polly, he hobbled up to join the others at the enclosed paddock. Dwight was holding his open hand out to a spirited roan, two sugar cubes balanced on his outstretched palm.

“She calls this one Star Dancer,” he was saying as the young stallion nuzzled his hand. “I just call ‘im Danny. He seems to like that better. This other fella, here, is Zephyr’s Dream. Zeke to his friends. C’mon, Zeke,” he added, turning to the other stall and holding out more sweets. “Say ‘hello’ to the nice folks.”

Gary had felt the walls closing in almost as soon as he had stepped out of the sunlight. The playful prancing of the big roan had not helped. Chill beads of sweat formed a thin film on his brow as he again heard, and felt, the thud of steel shod hooves striking soft flesh. A cold shiver ran up his spine as he turned away from the energetic colt. ‘Enough!’ he told himself. ‘It’s over. Time to move on.’ He had almost convinced himself . . . until Zeke strode up to the rail of his enclosure.

Zeke was a sleek, energetic bay with a triangular white blaze running from his forelock to his muzzle. Liquid brown orbs met Gary’s mud puddle green eyes. Instantly a tight, constricting band wrapped itself around his chest, cutting off his breath. He stood there, frozen, unable to even look away! The unsuspecting colt stretched his head over the rail, sniffing at Gary’s pockets in search of hidden sweets. Breath coming in shallow gasps, Gary just stood there, the sound of thudding hoof beats echoing through his mind.

“Gary? Are you okay?”

Startled, Gary turned to find Jake standing at his elbow. The other man was watching him with open concern.

“Wha, um, yeah. Yeah, I’m . . . I’m okay,” Gary stammered. “I just . . . just need some air. Excuse me.” In spite of his pronounced limp, he practically ran from the stables.

“Is something wrong?” Dwight asked as Gary stumbled past him.

Mumbling curses under his breath, Clay started to follow his cousin only to be brought up short by a hand on his arm.

“Give him a minute,” Polly cautioned him.

“We shouldn’t ‘ve let him come in here,” Clay grumbled irritably. “He’s . . .”

“A big boy who knows his own mind,” she gently reminded him. “He knew what to expect. Gary’s been through this more than a few times. Just give him a chance to get his head together, then I’ll go see what he needs.”

“Would someone mind tellin’ me what just happened?” Dwight asked impatiently. “What’s wrong with your cousin?”

Polly glanced around at the others, then back toward the opening that Gary had just disappeared through. “Remember what Gary told you about being attacked in ‘Vegas? Jake and I found him in a stable pretty much like this one.” She glanced over at Zeke. “He’d been beaten within an inch of his life and trampled. By a horse that looked a lot like Ol‘ Zeke, here. You guys can fill in the details, if you like,” she told her friends. “Gary’s had enough t . . .”

Polly was interrupted by a shrill cry. Alarmed, they all charged out of the building to see Gary, his back against the corral railing, staring down at an irate young woman who was sprawled in the dirt. His left arm was clutched tightly against his side, a look that bordered on animal panic on his still discolored features. He also looked as if he regretted having eaten breakfast. As his friends rushed to help, Gary turned suddenly and eliminated that problem all over the base of the nearest fencepost.

Halfway to the corral, Clay stopped to stare at the young woman who was muttering angrily as she struggled to her feet.

“Clay Treyton,” she grumbled, staring at the wretchedly ill figure. “You are still the most ill mannered, disgusting, lowlife, slimy son of a . . .”

“Nice to see you, too, sis,” Clay remarked acidly.

The young blonde almost fell over again as she spun to face this new intrusion. “C-Clay?” she stammered. Confused, she looked from her brother to the man kneeling by the fence, then back to Clay. Only then did she see the two coming up behind him. “I-I thought . . . He looked . . . But you . . . What the hell is going on here?” she demanded.

Polly, meanwhile, had rushed to Gary’s side. She supported him as he continued to empty the contents of his stomach. In between bouts, he mumbled tearful apologies.

“Shh,” Polly told him softly. “S’okay, Gary. Everything’s okay. What happened?” Wordlessly, he just shook his head before giving in to the nausea once more. “Never mind, hon. It’ll keep.” She looked helplessly at the others. “Jake? Could you give me a hand with him? I can give him a shot for the nausea, but it’ll knock him out. Best if we get him lyin’ down first.”

Over Gary’s half-hearted protests, they helped him to his feet and led him towards the RV. Clay’s sister stared after the trio as they passed her.

“Will someone please answer my question?” she asked. “Who are these guys, and why do they all look like Clay?”

Tearing his eyes away from the retreating trio, Clay turned to face his sister. “Ellie,” he said, laying a hand on his twin’s shoulder. “I’d like you to meet your long lost brother. Buddy Jackson, this is our sister, Ellen. The one who couldn’t find it in her heart to pass on a simple message to let me know our mother was dying,” he added bitterly. He nodded toward the RV, leveling a heated glare at his youngest sister. “So what happened?”

Dusting off the seat of her jeans, Ellie returned his glare with equal hostility. “I thought he was you,” she grumbled. “He was leanin’ on the fence, lookin’ kinda green. So I . . .”

“Thought you’d sneak up on ‘im,” Clay finished. He looked down at the riding crop at her feet. “You hit him with that, didn’t you. Nice way to say hello, sis.” Shaking his head sadly, he looked at his stepfather. “Is it any wonder I haven’t been home for so long?”

“Ellie,” Dwight sighed. “Tell me what happened. How did you end up flat on your keester?”

Ellie Treyton shot her half brother a sullen look. “It was like he said,” she admitted. “I popped him on the shoulder with my quirt and he hooked my ankles with that damned cane before I could blink.” She tilted her chin towards the mobile home. “So who’re the other two?” she asked. “And the woman. She your latest girlfriend? Little long in the tooth for you, ain‘t she?”

“That’s enough, young lady,” Dwight told her in a tightly controlled voice. “We need to have a talk about his other girlfriend. The one that never existed.”

Ellie at least had the grace to look embarrassed at being caught in her lie.

“The man you assaulted,” Clay told her, “is our cousin. His name is Gary Hobson and he’s been out of the hospital less than three days. The other man is our financial advisor, Jake Evans. He’s gotten to be a pretty good friend. As for the woman, she’s a friend of Gary’s. Period. She’s also the one who’s gonna whip your butt if you don’t behave yourself. And don’t think I’m kiddin’. She’s already taken on a professional killer and two escaped cons. And won. You won’t even be a speed bump.”

***********

“I’m sorry,” Gary murmured weakly as they settled him on the sofa. “I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t . . . didn’t mean to hurt anyone. Is she . . .?”

“The only thing wounded was her pride,” Jake chuckled. Catching Polly’s expression from the corner of his eye, he had to add, “so far.”

“I promise to restrain myself,” Polly assured them as she carefully prepared the injection. With practiced ease, she swabbed down a spot on Gary’s upper arm, injecting the medication into the muscle. “This is gonna knock you for a loop, sweetie, so don’t try to get up.” She felt his forehead with the back of her hand. “No fever,” she reported. “A little clammy, though. How do you feel?”

“Tired,” Gary admitted, his voice already beginning to slur. “T-tell ‘em ‘m sorry ta be . . . be such a drag.” His eyelids fluttered a bit as he strove to stay alert. “Tha’s some powerful stuff,” he murmured drowsily.

“Only because I shot you in the arm instead of the hip,” Polly informed him. “Less tissue for the medication to filter through. Now, quit fightin’ it and go to sleep.” She watched as his eyes blinked several times, then slowly drifted shut, finally relaxing as he began making soft snoring sounds. “Now to go have a chat with Ms. Treyton.”

*************

Clay’s little sister soon found that few could ‘read the riot act’ as well as Polly Gannon. The older woman sat her down and talked to her, non-stop, for twenty minutes without repeating herself once. When Polly was finished, Ellie Treyton was one thoroughly chastised young woman.

“I thought he was Clay,” she grumbled in her own defense.

“Are you telling’ me that you would assault your own brother if you saw him in the same shape as Gary?” Polly demanded. “You are some piece of work, girl. What did he ever do to you for you to hate him so much?”

“I’d kinda like to know that, too,” Clay admitted. “One of the main reason’s I couldn’t wait to get outta here was because I felt like no one wanted me around.”

“Oh, really!” Ellie sneered. “Mama’s number one son. The one that could do no wrong. Mama and Daddy acted like the sun rose and set with you! And all you ever did was cause ‘em grief! Mr. Clay ‘All Mighty’ Treyton, the big rodeo star!”

Clay shook his head sadly as he turned to stare out the window. “How did we ever get so screwed up?” he sighed. “Seems like the only one who never knew how much you and Ma cared was me.”

“Yeah, right!” Ellie snorted. “How could you miss it? They hardly ever let you out of their sight. You couldn’t blink without them checkin’ to see if you had somethin’ in your eye. Then Mama gives all her diaries to that lawyer to give to you! Probably to keep the rest of us from findin’ out how much she favored you over us.”

“It wasn’t to keep anything from the rest of you,” Dwight told his youngest with a sigh. “She wanted Clay to finally know the truth. About himself and about Buddy here.”

“And that’s another thing,” Ellie said shifting in her seat to glare at Buddy. “How come we never knew about you? Ya’ll never said anything about Clay bein’ a twin.”

“Your mama never told you a lot of things,” the elder Treyton replied. “She never told me her real name until just before she died. You have grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins who you never knew existed. Clay had to go through his whole life feelin’ like an outcast because she was scared to death that the people who stole Buddy were still alive and just waitin’ for a chance to steal him, too. She didn’t love you any less, and neither did I. But she wasn’t alone when she had the rest of you. Even so, when you were born, she wouldn’t sleep at night until she was sure each and every one of you was safe. And she’d get up to check on you four, five times a night. Even when you weren’t kids any more.”

Ellie was looking a little less angry and very confused. “I never knew that,” she murmured. “Why was Mama alone when . . .?”

“Because my real dad ran off and left her high and dry,” Clay told her bitterly. He was still staring out the window at nothing. “He was a liar, a cheat, and a cradle robber. She was barely sixteen, pregnant and scared. She was also consumed with guilt over runnin’ off in the first place and livin’ in sin with a man twice her age,” he added sadly. “She was afraid to go home and admit her mistake, and ashamed of what people might think. Mama was raised Catholic, ya see.”

“I . . . I didn’t know that,” Ellie murmured. She looked from Clay, to Buddy, to Jake, then back to Buddy. “And you were found . . .”

“By a pile of wreckage,” Buddy nodded. “There was no way on earth I should’ve survived, but I did.”

“This is so weird,” the youngest Treyton sighed, shaking her head in confusion. “I don’t know what to think anymore. I-I’ve been so angry because I felt so . . . so left out. Mama was so . . . secretive. She panicked if one of us even looked at those diaries. Totally freaked out one day when I found one she’d left on the couch. And she was always . . . always watchin’ you, Clay. Like just the sight of you made her day complete. Made the rest of us sick just to see it. Maybe you never noticed, but she was frantic every time you were even ten minutes late for dinner.”

“How could I help but notice!” Clay snorted, turning to face her. “I had more elbow room when they sent me to prison for a year. Don’t you see, Ellie? What you saw as . . . as coddling, I saw as a . . . a noose that was slowly stranglin’ the life outta me. I was . . . was jealous of the freedom the rest of you were given. You were allowed to grow a-and become whatever you wanted to be. I was bein’ pushed and molded and . . . and shaped. I finally decided that was why she named me ‘Clay.’ Until I read those diaries of hers, I thought she was usin’ me to . . . to fulfill some dream she’d had as a girl. Claire and the boys probably saw it the same way you did. They certainly seemed to resent me just as much.”

“All this soul searching is wonderful for clearin’ the air,” Polly said into the sudden silence, “but that still doesn’t excuse you, young lady, for attacking a man who was clearly injured. Or for you not letting Clay know that your mama was dyin’. That takes a powerful lotta hate, girl.”

Ellie’s pretty face was a study in confusion as she started pacing her corner of the room. “I’ll admit,” she sighed, “that I’ve often wished that you’d never been born, Clay. For a lot of reasons. None of them seem that important, now. Or even that big a deal, all things considered. I just . . . just don’t know how to handle this.”

Moving away from the window, Clay stepped into his sister’s path. Hesitantly, he placed a hand on each of her shoulders. “I can’t undo the past,” he told her, “any more than you can. I don’t even know if the future is gonna be any better. All I can do is try. To be a better brother, and a better person. Can you just try not to hate me so much?”

“I don‘t know,” she told him honestly. “That’s asking an awful lot, big brother. I just don’t know if I can change the way I’ve felt my whole life.”

“Then just give me the chance to prove that I’ve changed,” he pleaded earnestly. “Can you do that much?”

Hesitantly, biting her lower lip as she met his muddy green eyes, Ellie nodded. Wordlessly, she stepped back, breaking his grasp. She turned and was heading for the door when rapid footsteps disturbed the stillness. Everyone froze as two handsome, almost identical, young men burst into the room.

“Pa!” the lead one cried excitedly. “What’s Clay doin’ sleepin’ out in that Winnebago? Did you finally slam the . . . door . . .?” He stopped in his tracks as he caught sight of the twins and Jake, an almost comic look of astonishment on his youthful features. The other young man, following close on his heels, almost knocked him to the floor. “C-Clay?”

“Here we go again,” Polly sighed.

***********

The two young men, whom Dwight introduced as Phillip and James, his twin sons, were only the vanguard of a general influx of family members. The slamming of the front door announced the arrival of Claire, a slender redhead, her husband Stuart Peterson, and three small tornadoes named Joey, Billy and Shelley, ages seven through ten, respectively. The children seemed to be the only ones not completely bowled over by finding three ‘Clays’ arranged around the parlor. As little Joey stated enthusiastically, it was ‘cool!’

“Do you ride bulls, too?” he asked, climbing into Jakes lap without hesitation.

“Only on paper,” the banker replied with an easy grin. Jake chuckled at the child’s puzzled look, thinking that this was something he and Joan were missing out on. Maybe it was time to bring up the subject of marriage once more. “Is that what you want to be when you grow up? A bull rider?”

“Not if I can help it,” Claire assured him. Her startled gaze kept flickering from one look-a-like to the next. “I thought the man in the . . . He looks so . . . Will the real Clay Treyton please stand up?”

“Only if you promise not to hit me,” Clay replied with a hesitant grin. He stepped around Ellie, who was still looking a little flummoxed, to stand in front of the sister who was only two years younger than he was. The one whose wedding he had almost trashed. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other nervously, he mentally prepared himself for another confrontation. Expecting to meet the same hatred that had filled Ellie’s eyes such a short while ago, he was surprised to see tears spilling down her cheeks.

“You found him,” she said in a voice tight with emotion. “Wh-which one is he?”

Feeling a little confused himself, Clay introduced her to Buddy and Jake, quickly explaining how they had found each other through the man they had seen sleeping out in the RV. With a tearful little cry, Claire threw her arms around her long lost brother, pulling him into a tight embrace. Hesitant at first, Buddy put his arms around her as tears welled in his own eyes. This was the kind of greeting he had hoped for. This . . . this ‘welcome to the family.’ They stood like that for more than a minute, until Stuart placed a gentle hand on his wife’s shoulder. Once he had gotten her attention he pointed with his chin toward Clay, who was looking on, an unreadable expression on his face. Wordlessly, Claire wrapped her brother in a fierce embrace, burying her face against his chest. Still a little unsure of himself, Clay put his arms around her, too.

“I’m so happy for you,” she said, pulling away at last. “After all this time, we didn’t dare to hope that . . . that he was even still alive.”

“You knew?” Dwight asked, just as confused as everyone else. “How? She never told anyone!”

“Who do you think delivered Mama’s diaries to the lawyer after she died?” Claire sniffed, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. “I’m not ashamed to say I read everyone of them, cover to cover, before I did. Once I knew the truth, it was easier to understand why Clay acted the way he did. Imagine going through your whole life feeling . . . incomplete. It would make anyone act a little crazy.”

“But you never let on,” Ellie complained. “You let the rest of us think . . .”

“It wasn’t my secret to tell,” Claire reminded her kid sister. “Besides, you have no room to talk, Ellie. What you did was just as bad. Still, one of us should’ve followed up on it, made sure that you were told how sick she was,” she added to Clay. “She asked about you every day.”

Feeling a little ‘off base,’ Clay looked from his sister to her husband. Stuart didn’t seem at all surprised by the revelation. “She told you?”

“Claire and I have very few secrets from each other,” he shrugged, giving his brother-in-law a tiny grin. “She wanted me to know, so we could get started mendin’ fences. We were beginnin’ to think we were never gonna hear from you again.”

Buddy nudged his twin and made a loud throat clearing sound. When Clay looked his way, he tilted his head in the direction of the front door. It took him a moment, but Clay was finally able to pull his thoughts together long enough to remember his ‘peace offerings.’ He quickly excused himself and practically ran from the room, Buddy hot on his heels.

Little Joey had been watching the scene between his mother and uncle with childish curiosity. Looking up at the man whose lap he still occupied, he tried to figure out where his new friend fit in.

“Are you my uncle, too?” he asked.

Jake shook his head with a sad smile. “I’m afraid not, pal,” he sighed. “I’m kinda wishing I was, though.”

Joey lay his head against Jake’s shoulder. “Me, too. I could’ve had the best ‘Show ‘n’ Tell’ ever.”

***************

Gary stirred fitfully on his makeshift bed, his drugged sleep disturbed by sinister phantoms out of his past. Some old, some of a more recent vintage. Flashing hooves alternated with the leering grin of Aristotle Savalas. Pounding fists provided punctuation for the silky smooth voice of J. T. Marley as he whispered, ‘Like a moth to a flame.’ Gary murmured muted protests as his hands twitched spasmodically. In his mind, he was lashing out fiercely against his enemies, landing telling blows on mouth and chin, trying to silence their taunting voices.

A loud, rattling ‘thunk!’ startled him into a dazed wakefulness. Alarmed, he tried to sit up, falling back with a choked cry as pain seared through his broken ribs. A moment later, a familiar face looked in through the open doorway.

“You okay, cuz?” Buddy asked, concern evident in his voice. Hesitantly, he climbed the rest of the way into the vehicle at Gary’s silent nod. “You’re lookin’ a mite better. Feel like joinin’ the rest of the party?”

“Um, yeah,” he murmured, scrubbing both hands over his face. “Could you . . . could you help me up? Polly keeps strapping me down for some reason.” He fumbled at the buckle fastening the seatbelt across his chest until Buddy gently pushed his hands away.

“She doesn’t want you fallin’ and puncturin’ a lung or somethin’,” Buddy grinned. He quickly released the strap around Gary’s legs as well. “There ya go, cuz. Let me give ya a hand up.”

With Buddy’s help, Gary carefully levered himself to a sitting position. He sat there a moment as a wave of dizziness washed over him. As soon as he felt ready, he let his cousin assist him to his feet. Getting a firm grasp on his cane, Gary signaled his readiness with a nod.

Buddy scrambled out of the RV, reaching back in to steady his cousin’s descent. Clay was waiting patiently near a large wooden crate.

“Are we f-finally gonna get to see what’s in that thing?” Gary grunted as he stepped down to the hard packed dirt of the drive.

“Yup,” Clay grinned. “Wait ‘til you meet the rest of the family, Gary. I know you ‘n’ Ellie got off on the wrong foot, but . . .”

“Th-that’s okay,” Gary stammered uneasily. “She just startled me is all.” He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to dispel the lingering effects of the phenergan Polly had given him less than an hour before. “Um, that looks pretty heavy. Need any help?”

“No offense, Gary,” Clay replied, giving the cane a meaningful glance, “but you’re in no shape to be liftin’ much of anything.”

“Th-that’s not what I meant,” Gary replied. “I was gonna send Jake out to give you a hand.”

The twins grabbed the ends of the crate and lifted it clear of the ground . . . with obvious effort.

“N-no problem,” Buddy grunted. “We’ve got it.”

Moving as quickly as their burden would allow, the twins led the way back to join the rest of the family gathering. Gary haltingly brought up the rear.

“Look who woke up,” Clay grunted as they sat the crate in the middle of the room. “Gary, this is my sister Claire and her husband, Stuart. Those bookends are my kid brothers, Jamie and Phil.” The two handsome, sandy haired men nodded simultaneously. “The little ones are, let me see if I can get this right, Joey, Billy an’ Shelley?” Each of the children smiled as he spoke their names. Giving his youngest sister a mischievous glance, he couldn’t resist one tiny dig. “And you’ve already met Ellie, of course. Everyone, this is our cousin. Gary Hobson of Chicago.”

Gary rolled his eyes in a ‘Give me strength’ expression as he hobbled up to take Ellie’s left hand in a firm grip. “My pleasure,” he murmured, giving her a hesitant smile. “We, um, we didn’t get off to a very good start, I’m afraid. Please allow me to apologize for my earlier behavior,” he added graciously. “You . . . you sorta . . . caught me at a bad moment.”

Ellie’s face split into a dreamy smile as he kissed her fingers in a courtly gesture. “Oh my,” she sighed breathlessly. “Someone sure did a good job raisin’ you! Clay, I’ll forgive you anything if you bring home more like this one!”

A general spate of laughter drowned out nine year old Billy’s groan of disgust. Shelley looked like she had just fallen into her favorite fairytale. Joey simply looked around at the four of them, a wistful expression on his face. “Are you sure you can’t stay for ‘Show ‘n’ Tell?” he pleaded, looking up at Jake.

“Sorry, kiddo,” Jake chuckled. “I have a job to get back to. Would a picture do?”

“Naw,” Joey sighed. “Anyone can fake a picture these days. It’s not fair!” he whined, crossing his arms in a childish pout. “My four uncles could beat Wally’s talkin’ crow any day!”

“I think he means Walter Lewis’s mynah bird,” his father chuckled as he helped Gary to a seat.

“I hope so,” Polly quipped. “I’ve had enough of the ’Twilight Zone,’ thank you very much.”

“Amen,” Gary chuckled as he settled into the same easy chair he had occupied earlier. “Though I’ll take talking crows over some of the other stuff we’ve been through, lately,” he added dryly.

With Buddy’s help, Clay pried the top off the crate with a small pry bar. Laying them both aside, he began digging around in the packing material until he pulled out a small, brightly wrapped box. Checking the label, he handed it to his niece. The next two went to his nephews, then one each to his brothers. Phil and Jamie glanced at each other in that silent communication that twins often share before accepting the packages. They, of all Clay’s siblings, could understand the turmoil that had driven their older brother, and could more easily forgive him. The next box went to their father.

Last was a rather large package that took the combined effort of both men to wrestle from the crate. It was about four feet long and two feet high, about the size of a footlocker. They set it down in front of Stuart and Claire.

“I, um, I sorta figured I owe the two of you a really, really special wedding present after what I did,” Clay stammered uneasily. “So I had this made special.” He gave his sister a pleading look. “I can only hope this makes up, just a little, for the rotten way I treated you. All of you.” With that, he stood up, stepping aside to let Claire get to the package.

Kneeling, she carefully undid the silken cord holding the lid in place. This she was able to remove with little effort. Inside, loosely covered in tissue, was an ornately inlaid chest. It was made of a very dark wood, teak if she had to guess. The top was curved with a nacreous disc inlaid into the wood near one corner. Faceted crystals made a glittering map of the constellations. Lifting it from the box, they could see that more inlay work had been done on the four sides of the chest. All in natural wood veneer, it formed a panoramic landscape of snowcapped mountains gleaming in the moonlight.

“Wherever did you find this?” Stuart asked breathlessly. “I don’t know six people in the world that can do this kinda detailed work!”

“One of ‘em lives in El Paso,” Clay replied, shifting his feet nervously. “So . . . do you like it?”

“It’s gorgeous!” Claire answered breathlessly. “How on earth could you afford something like this? It . . . it’s too much! We can’t possibly . . .”

“Turn it down,” Ellie finished for her. “Didn’t you hear, sis? He had it made special. That makes it one of a kind. He can’t exactly take it back.”

“N-no,” Claire sighed uncertainly. “I don’t suppose . . .” She threw her arms around Clay’s neck, hugging him so tight he had to beg for air. “I love it!” she told him tearfully. “I love you, big brother. Don’t you ever forget that!”

“I won’t,” Clay whispered in a strained voice. “I won’t ever doubt that again.”

*************

Continue to Installment 4

Email the author: Polgana54@cs.com

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