Chapter Five
Ira sat in his Jeep at the end of the Bar 3’s long driveway. He stared at the enormous yellow house in the distance. Half of him wanted to cut and run. He wasn’t ready for this. It was enough that he’d met his absentee father and heard his lame excuse for not being part of Ira’s life.
Okay, maybe not lame. Robert’s version of the story agreed completely with his mother’s. Being excluded from his sire’s life rankled. Half of Ira’s childhood had been spent wishing for his dead father. It cut deep to learn his father was alive and well. The adult in him understood, but the lonely, fatherless boy deep inside was still angry.
From what he gathered listening to gossip and seeing the Flints around town, Robert had three daughters younger than Ira. Five boys older, three girls younger. Ira should have been part of the family. He wanted to be angry with his mother. But he couldn’t find it in his heart to be angry at a dead woman. He was however, disappointed she had never told him the truth. Water under the bridge. He’d been deprived of a father and all his siblings. A sin he was finding hard to forgive, even if Robert had welcomed him home with open arms.
Time to move on and get to know his father and the mass of half-brothers and stepsisters. It dawned on him that Sue was now his stepmother. A father and a stepmother. Guess he wasn’t an orphan any more. The thought did weird things to his stomach.
Despite his own inner turmoil, Ira had promised to show up for work and Robert was expecting him. One thing Ira was, was a man of his word. He’d agreed to work at the Bar 3 to help take a load off Robert’s shoulders. He’d be paid a living wage and he’d have the chance to meet his entire family. He just didn’t like starting those relationships with a lie. He’d prefer to come out as Robert’s son right from the beginning. Robert hadn’t really left him a choice.
He slipped the Jeep into gear and pulled into the yard, parking near the house. He slid out and paused, taking in the barns and other outbuildings. He’d been here before, but he was still amazed at the wealth and complexity of the ranch.
“Hey. Morning. Can I help you?” A cheery female voice called out.
He pivoted his gaze to the front porch. A pretty, dark blonde-haired girl in sturdy outdoorsy clothing stood on the top step smiling at him. “Hi.” He walked toward her. “I’m Ira Castillo. I’m here to see Robert.”
She skipped down the stairs, the wooden beads on her necklace clacking with each step. She thrust her hand at him. “Candice. Third youngest Flint child. Mom and Dad are waiting inside. Let me show you in. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too.” He shook her hand and followed when she jogged back toward the house. Candice, his sister. Third youngest she’d said. She seemed nice enough. Outspoken and cheery.
She opened the door and two dogs exploded outside. “Hey,” she called, “Who let you guys inside? You’re supposed to be outdoor dogs.” The lead dog yipped once and headed for the barn, the other dog hot on its tail.
Ira watched them go.
“The husky looking one is Kettle Corn. The black lab is Blackie. He’s new and a bit out of control. My nieces, Daisy and Jane, chose his uber original name. What can you do? Kids.”
“Are they friendly?” He’d met Corn on his previous visit when he first came to town. The dog seemed friendly enough.
“Yes. Dad wouldn’t keep an animal that wasn’t kid and animal friendly. Both of those,” she waved vaguely in the direction the dogs had gone, “are rescues. Riley gets a lot of strays at the clinic.”
“Riley?” he asked, knowing full well his half-brother was one of the local veterinarians. Before coming to town, he’d accumulated as much information on the family as he could. He believed in being prepared.
“My brother. The vet. Youngest of five boys. All older than me.”
Her openness surprised Ira. She didn’t hesitate to share personal information with a stranger. Was she just gregarious, or was she careless? Of course, in a town this size, it didn’t take long to learn who was who, and who you needed to keep secrets from. Mrs. Adelson would share your secrets in a heartbeat. Honey, on the other hand, must hear a lot of stuff, but he’d never once heard her gossiping. He respected her discretion.
“You coming, or what?” Candice asked. “Mom and Dad are having coffee before the day starts.”
He could use a cup of coffee. He’d been up too early, unable to sleep due to nervous energy over starting work and meeting his new family. Meeting his sister, with all her exuberant energy, had calmed him. With luck, all his siblings would be so easy to get along with.
He followed her inside and slipped off his new, still stiff, cowboy boots. He’d prefer to wear combat boots, but the cowboy boots seemed less revealing. Sometimes, conforming to norms could be valuable for fitting in and avoiding questions. When in Rome and all that. His past wasn’t a secret, but he wasn’t about to share it freely either. Nobody needed to know how many people he had killed as a sniper. Nor did they need to know how each and every death haunted him, despite counseling.
“Mom, Dad? Ira’s here.” She headed to the back of the house, nodding for him to follow.
The house was tidy. Family pictures hung on virtually every wall and lined up like perfect soldiers on the fireplace mantle. The furniture was sturdy leather and looked brand new. Leather made sense. Robert and Sue had six grandkids. The youngest was five, the oldest seventeen. He cast a silent thanks to the patron saint of small-town gossip, whoever that might be.
The kitchen was half painted. Creamy ivory covered two of the walls, the remaining walls maintained their faded pastel green. All the trim was taped in preparation for painting. Solid wood cupboards lined the walls and the countertop was gleaming marble. They must be in the middle of a kitchen renovation. The appliances were dated, but serviceable. He wondered if they’d be replaced as well.
“Ira, come in,” Robert greeted him. “You remember my wife, Sue?”
“Hi, Sue, Robert. Nice to see you both again. I’m ready to work. Where do I start?” He’d prefer to get to know these people, his family, better, but didn’t want things to become awkward.
“You’re not starting anything until you’ve had coffee and a muffin or two. I baked lemon poppyseed muffins this morning. You’ll get breakfast every morning you work.”
“I appreciate the offer, ma’am, but I can provide my own food.”
“Not on my ranch you won’t.” She glared at him, hands on her hips.
