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Story: Sunset (Crossroads #1)
Bluejacket Hollow, Oklahoma
Saturday morning began like every other morning on Charlie Bluejacket’s farm until his nine-year-old daughter, Julia, came running in from outside in hysterics.
“Daddy, Daddy! Butters isn’t in his pen, and I can’t find him anywhere!” The little black-and-white pygmy goat was Julia’s shadow, and a family pet.
Her mother, Frances, turned off all the burners at the stove and took off her apron, as Charlie put down the cup of coffee he’d been drinking.
Sonny Bluejacket, Charlie’s younger brother, had been living with the family ever since a bull ride at a rodeo ended his career and nearly his life. He jumped up from the table, followed the others as they went outside to the goat pen, expecting to see coyote or cougar tracks, and blood.
But there was nothing to tell them what had happened. Just little goat tracks in the pen, and then leading out through a gate left ajar.
Julia was sobbing. “I shut the gate good last night, Daddy! I always do.”
Sonny was circling the pen looking for signs but saw nothing but Julia’s sneaker tracks. “I’ll get the ATV and head north toward the creek,” he said.
Frannie took her daughter by the hand. “We’ll go south,” she said.
“I’ll check the driveway to see if I see tracks there, and if not, I’ll go west,” Charlie said, and they scattered like quail.
Sonny took off on the ATV, slowly winding his way through the heavily wooded areas around the farm, looking for signs. About a half hour later he rode into a clearing, saw little goat tracks on a patch of bare ground, and got off the ATV.
“Butters Bluejacket, you can’t hide from me. I smell you, and I’m not going to chase you down. Get your little self out here now. Julia thinks something ate you, and hurry up. I don’t have all day.”
Moments later, the little black-and-white goat trotted out of the brush right in front of Sonny, and head-butted one of the front tires.
Sonny laughed. “Look at you being all tough,” and as he slipped a lightweight cotton rope around Butters’s neck, the little goat began to jump about in protest. “Oh no you don’t! You had a chance to ride like a big boy, but you thought you needed to be all tough.”
Sonny grabbed him by the horns, rolled him over onto his side, and hogtied the little goat’s legs, like a calf at a roping competition.
Butters began protesting loudly, bleating pitifully as Sonny called his brother. “Hey bro, I found Butters. The little squirt came out of the brush and head-butted the ATV. Yeah, that’s him making all this noise. I’ve got him hogtied, and he’s riding in my lap all the way back, so you can tell Julia that Uncle Sonny found her baby.”
“Good job,” Charlie said.
“See you soon,” Sonny said, then hopped on the ATV with the little goat in his lap and started the ATV with Butters bleating objections. “Yeah, yeah, I know,” Sonny said. “Sorry about all this, but you shouldn’t have run away. Julia thought something ate you, but I think you’re too onery to be tasty.”
They rode all the way home with Butters steadily bleating his disapproval. Fifteen minutes later, Sonny arrived and pulled up into the backyard where the family was waiting.
“Come get this noisy critter,” Sonny said, and handed him off to Charlie.
“Thank you, Uncle Sonny,” Julia cried, and then hurried to catch up to her father, who was carrying the goat back to its pen. There would be some remodeling to the goat pen before nightfall.
Sonny rode the ATV back into the shed, parked and hung the keys up on a nail beside the door, then headed back to the house. From the aroma drifting out the kitchen window, he guessed Frannie had gone back to making breakfast, but now he smelled like goat.
He went inside, bypassed the kitchen to wash up and change clothes before going back to the table. He was headed up the hall toward the kitchen when Frannie called out.
“Sonny! Mailman needs you to sign for something!”
“Coming,” he said, and hastened his stride to the front door and went outside to meet him. “Hey Wilson.”
Wilson nodded. “Hey, Sonny. I need you to sign for this registered packet.”
As soon as Sonny signed, Wilson handed over a large, fat, manila envelope. “Have a good day.”
“You, too,” Sonny said, glanced at the return address, then went back inside.
“Breakfast is ready,” Frannie said.
“Coming,” Sonny said, and headed to the kitchen while there was still food left to eat. He laid the packet aside and sat down at the table.
Charlie looked up. “What was it?”
“I don’t know. From some law firm in Texas,” he said.
“Are you in trouble?” Frances asked, as she put his plate of food down in front of him.
Sonny laughed. “Not that I know of. I left plenty of blood in the dirt back in Texas, but it was mine.”
“Open it,” Charlie said.
Sonny shrugged. “I will, just as soon as I eat this good food while its hot.”
Charlie frowned.
Frances smiled at her husband’s impatience and curiosity, and pretended not to see Julia sneaking food into her pocket to take out to Butters’s pen later.
The meal progressed until Sonny had taken his last sip of coffee, and then he got up and brought the envelope back to the table. They were all teasing him about everything from being sued for child support for a kid he didn’t know he had, to a pillow he’d taken from a motel when he was still on the rodeo circuit. But none of them could have ever guessed the contents of what was inside.
Sonny read the cover letter, then looked up in shock.
“Emmit Cooper died.”
George frowned. “Isn’t that the bullfighter who nearly got you killed?”
Sonny frowned. “Don’t say that. It wasn’t Emmit’s fault. He stumbled and fell before he could distract the bull. But the bull was mad at me, not Emmit.”
“Okay, so he’s dead. Why is some lawyer telling you this?” George muttered.
“Because Emmit left everything to me in his will, which includes a thousand-acre spread in West Texas, and a horse operation, including a dozen registered Quarter Horses. I guess you all are finally getting me out of your hair. This is something I never saw coming, but it’s my chance to start over.”
Frances frowned. “Please tell me you’re not going back to the rodeo.”
“No way. I’ll still be riding and training horses like I’ve been working horses for the ranchers around here, but these will be mine. This is unexpected, but I wouldn’t deny this gift. Emmit had his reasons, and I will honor them,” Sonny said.
At that point, his family reluctantly celebrated his good fortune, while Sonny read the rest of the paperwork in detail, then got his laptop and began looking up bus schedules.
***
Two days later, Sonny and Charlie were getting ready to leave for the bus station in Tulsa. He was loading his suitcase and duffel bag in Charlie’s truck when he heard the sound of an approaching vehicle.
At the same moment, Charlie came flying out of the house with a harried look on his face. “Auntie just called. She said Dad heard about your inheritance and has been bragging around town that he’s going with you.”
At that moment, a dark cloud passed over the house, momentarily hiding the sun. Sonny felt the warning but was not surprised by the man’s audacity.
“Doesn’t matter, Charlie. He isn’t going anywhere with me. He left Mom and us when we were kids, and has done nothing but drink and chase women ever since. She wouldn’t let him back in the house, and I haven’t said three words to him in years.”
“There he comes, just the same,” Charlie said, pointing as the old red Ford pickup came rattling up the tree-lined driveway.
Sonny took a deep breath, watching as Walker Bluejacket came to a sliding halt behind Charlie’s truck and jumped out.
It was obvious the man hadn’t changed clothes in days. His long hair was threaded with gray now, and hanging in two braids on either side of his face. His old black Stetson was as ratty as the rundown boots on his feet, and his once muscular chest had turned into a beer belly. But he still had the same oversized turquoise buckle on his belt, something he’d taken to wearing after Sonny won his first Championship Bull Rider buckle.
“Sonny! Sonny! Long time no see,” Walker said and tried to hug him.
Sonny blocked the gesture with both hands and gave Walker a stony glare, a sign Charlie knew all too well.
“Walks-Off Bluejacket, as I live and breathe. I haven’t seen you in what…fifteen or twenty years…and now you show up?” Sonny drawled.
Walker glared. “Did your mother teach you to call me that?” and the moment the words came out of his mouth, Sonny was in his face.
“Shut your mouth, old man. Our mother has been gone ten years and you did not even have the decency to show up to honor her at her funeral. You do not speak her name in our presence.”
Walker eyed the men warily. They might be his sons, but they were also two big, angry men.
“Yeah, I know, I know. I was out of town, I think,” Walker mumbled.
“You lie again. You were shacking up with Melissa Peters,” Sonny said. “We have someplace to be. You need to go now.”
“No, son. Don’t be like that. Listen… I heard you’re leaving the state again, and I’ll drive you wherever you need to go,” Walker said.
“I don’t need a driver, and you lost your right to call me son a long time ago. You’re a leech trying to scam what you can, even from your own family. You go nowhere with me,” Sonny said.
Walker exploded. He came at Sonny with his fists doubled, and the first swing he took was aimed at Sonny’s chest. He knew Sonny died twice on the operating table. But he wouldn’t stay dead, losing Walker’s chance to inherit a third of everything Sonny owned. Now he just wanted to hurt him.
Sonny threw up an arm in time to block the first blow, but the second one hit him hard in the ribs.
Before Sonny could respond, Charlie hit Walker with a flying tackle, and had him on his back in seconds. Charlie was so angry his voice was shaking, and it wouldn’t have taken much for him to choke the life out of the old man where he lay.
“You son of a bitch! You aimed for Sonny’s chest. You know what happened. You know how he suffered. What kind of a devil tries to kill his own son?”
Walker kept struggling to get free. “Damn it, Charlie, don’t be an ass. I didn’t think, that’s all.”
“Let it go, Charlie,” Sonny said, then pulled his brother off and grabbed Walker by the collar and yanked him to his feet, and dragged him back to his truck. He threw him inside, then slammed the door. “You are a disgrace to the Bluejacket name. Get lost. Leave. Me. The. Hell. Alone. I don’t ever want to see your face again.”
Walker’s rage rose again like smoke up a chimney. “You should be dead. I would be living off your money, and walking on your grave.”
The shock of the words rolled through Sonny in waves as he braced both hands on either side of the driver’s side window, and leaned in until he was only inches from his father’s face.
“You are a blight upon this earth. You cause trouble for Charlie or me again, and you won’t see another sunrise.”
It was the look in his youngest son’s eyes that put Walker’s gut in a knot. He slammed the truck in reverse, backed up through Frances’s flowerbed, and spun out as he drove away. When he got to the highway, he turned south on Highway 62 toward Henryetta.
Sonny was still reeling from his father’s last words as Walker’s taillights disappeared.
Charlie walked up behind him, and put a hand on Sonny’s shoulder. He could see by the look on his face something terrible had passed between them.
“Sonny, what did he say to you?” Charlie asked.
“That I should have died. He would have been living off my money, and walking on my grave.”
Charlie was in shock. “I knew he was rotten, but that’s evil talk. He’s messed up, Sonny. Messed up bad. Forget him. Get in the truck, brother. You have a future to meet.”
They loaded up into the truck and left the farm. Less than an hour later, they were in Tulsa. Charlie parked on Greenwood Avenue and began unloading Sonny’s bags on the sidewalk, and caught a glimpse of lingering anger in Sonny’s expression.
“Don’t worry about Dad, he tried you on. You didn’t bite, and now he’s on to his next scam, whatever it will be. We are happy for you. You lost a lot, little brother, but you didn’t lose your life. You deserve this new start. Just remember the ancestors are always on your side, and we’re only a phone call away.”
Sonny hugged Charlie hard. “I’m going to miss you all, including my little niece,” he said.
At the mention of his daughter, Charlie thrust his hand in his jacket pocket. “Dang, I almost forgot to give you this. Julia gave it to me when I took her to catch the school bus. She said it was so Uncle Sonny wouldn’t forget her.”
Sonny looked down at the little blue rock Charlie put in his hand and swallowed past the lump in his throat.
“We found it in the creek. I told her it was a piece of the sky. Tell Julia I love it, and could never forget my best girl. Tell her to take care of Butters, too.”
Charlie rolled his eyes. “That dang goat is getting neutered tomorrow. I’m about to put an end to that head-butting. It’s probably how he got out. He just butted the gate until it opened.”
Sonny slipped the blue rock into the inner pocket of his jacket and zipped it shut. “Thanks for the ride, Charlie. Drive safe going home,” he said, then picked up his bags and headed for the station.
Charlie stood watching until Sonny was inside, telling himself not to worry, and trying to be happy about the gift Sonny had been given. But there was no denying how much he was going to miss him. Then he got in his truck and headed home.