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“Apology accepted. You can leave now.” Jace turned to open the door, but was halted by a sound that was almost a wail.
“Wait!”
Jace turned back and looked at Sheldon. He wasn’t lord of the manor anymore. Even his presence in this room, under which he used to command, he looked out of place, lost even.
“Could we sit down and talk?” His voice held a pleading quality Jace had never heard.
“Like all those brotherly talks we had in the past?” Sarcasm dripped from his lips, but it tasted sour.
“I know we never had any real talks—arguments, yes, but never talks. Not even when father died.”
“Especially not then.”
The reading of the will took place the day after their father was buried and everything went to Sheldon. Jace was only briefly mentioned—as if his existence meant nothing to his father. And Sheldon was smug and snobbish about the outcome.
“I want to tell you about my life,” Sheldon said.
“Why would I be interested in that?”
“You might not, but I want to tell it to you anyway. I hope it will help you understand me and forgive me.”
“That would have to be some life story,” Jace spat.
Sheldon took a seat and crossed one leg over his knee. When Jace remained where he stood, his brother pushed a chair out and gestured for him to take it.
“Please,” Sheldon said.
That was a word Jace could never remember hearing him utter, not even to the staff who made his life comfortable. Maybe he said it to Laura, but Jace hadn’t stayed around long enough to find out.
Jace grabbed the chair and pulled it a little closer to the table. He set his water bottle in front of him and gave his attention to his half brother.
Sheldon again took a drink of water. He began with their father, telling Jace how he was raised, how the superior attitude he got had been drilled into him. He wanted to please the old man, so he did what he was told, spoke like he was expected to speak. When Jace came to live with them, their father was the only role model he had. He emulated him, did what he did, ridiculed and taunted because that’s what he thought was expected.
“It never occurred to you to do anything else?” Jace interrupted.
“No,” he answered. “You might have thought I should. I was a grown man and you were a child. But by then I’d been so conditioned to my own way of life that it felt right to do and say what I did. The fact that you were a terror in the county made it easier.”
Jace looked away, taking a drink of his own water, before looking back at Sheldon. “So what’s changed your mind?”
Sheldon pointed to the bedroom they were in. “This place.” He looked back at his brother. “I ruined it.”
Jace laughed. This was not the brother he knew. The self-righteous, never-wrong guy who tolerated no human frailties.
“It was my fault,” Sheldon said. “I mismanaged the place. I had no idea how to run it well after father died. Laura helped for a while.” He hung his head, was probably remembering his wife. “But alone, I was a poor excuse for looking after a farm this size or any size for that matter.”
Jace listened to his brother pouring out his soul. He steeled himself to be wary, to not take what Sheldon said as truth. The man he’d grown up with probably had a hidden agenda.
Sheldon went on, telling him how he’d lived after leaving the Kendall, moving from state to state, trying to get work on another farm and how people turned him down or fired him after a short stay. He told Jace he’d been homeless, that he’d sifted through garbage cans looking for food.
Jace listened silently, forcing away any sympathy he had as unworthy of this man who looked so much like thier implacable father.
“Then, when I was in North Carolina, I met a guy who knew of a job,” Sheldon said. “I went to ask about it and I got it. I clean barnacles off the hulls of pleasure boats.”
Jace wasn’t sure he’d heard right. “You do what?”
“I take care of boats at a marina. Repair and repaint them if needed.”
Jace opened his mouth, but said nothing.
“I know. It’s menial work,” Sheldon said. “I live in a bungalow on the beach and I read a lot of library books.”
Jace’s eyes must have betrayed his feelings.
“Don’t feel sorry for me. I’m happy, probably for the first time in my life. Oh, I was happy with Laura, more so than I ever thought I would be, but we were caught up in material things, thought nothing could touch us. Not until she died and I moved away did I understand what both joy and sadness could be.”
“And you came to tell me this?”
Sheldon nodded. “Audrey, she’s a friend in North Carolina, teaches kindergarten, it was her suggestion that I contact you.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Nothing,” he said. “You’re the main reason I came, but there is another one. It’s for me. I couldn’t go on living with the way I had treated you.”
“So you’re absolved now?” Jason asked, leaning forward in his chair. “A four-hundred-mile trip and a few words negate the years of abuse I took from you and dad?”
Sheldon was shaking his head. “Nothing will absolve that. From me or from father. Neither you nor I can change it. What we can do is choose to understand it. Or not.”
“Suppose I choose not?” Jace asked.
“That’s your right. I hope you don’t. I’d like us to be friends or at least stay in touch with each other. But if that isn’t possible, I will, of course, accept that. Most of what happened to you was my fault. I’m willing to take the blame.”
“You’re going to play the martyr.” Jace chuckled. “That is what you do. You rode around on your horse as if you were king of all you surveyed.”
“And you raced through the countryside on horseback or in a car terrorizing all who came in contact with you.” Sheldon stopped and took a long breath. “I apologize. I’m not here to resurrect old wounds. I only wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”
Sheldon stood up. “I’ll leave now. It was good to see you. Ms. Ashton tells me you have a son. Congratulations.”
Emotions Jace had never known warred inside him. He watched his half brother head for the door. Why should he feel anything but contempt for him? Yet he felt sorry. He wanted to believe Sheldon. He’d always wanted him to change, to accept him. Now it seemed he was offering friendship and Jace was rejecting it. What should he do? What would Kelly think?
Sheldon had his hand on the doorknob when Jace asked, “Do you want to meet him?”
* * *
“THE CHANDELIER WAS brought over from Europe during the Victorian period,” Amy, the tour guide, spoke to her group as they looked up at the ballroom ceiling. “It’s made of both straight and a rare curved crystal.”
As soon as Ari saw Jace, he abandoned the tour guide and rushed to his father. Amy looked up and recognized his brother. Jace smiled and she nodded.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is a rare pleasure.” Amy turned and opened her arm to include the newcomers to the group. “This is Mr. Sheldon Kendall, the former owner of Kendall Farm.”
Jace heard the intake of breath from the group when Sheldon was introduced. “And this is my brother, Jason Kendall,” he said. The fact that Sheldon introduced him as his brother wasn’t lost on Jace. He’d always referred to Sheldon as his half brother.
“Do you guide any of the tours?” a woman in the audience asked.
Sheldon answered before Jace could say anything. “No, ma’am. I live in North Carolina now.”
Jace wondered if Sheldon was saving him from an awkward moment. Their talk earlier had alleviated some of their hostility. Jace no longer hated his brother, but he didn’t love him either, not with the unconditional love that families should have for one another. But a lot of the weight on his shoulders seemed to be gone.
“Go on with the tour,” Jace said. “We’ll take Ari.” Cupping the boy’s hand, the two men walked away from the group.
Jace led Ari through the kitchen where he picked up a small bottle of orange juice and a straw. He handed it to the boy. Then they went out on the back porch. He sat down on a wicker sofa and pulled Ari against him. Ari opened the orange juice and drank. Sheldon sat across from them.
“Ari, this is Sheldon,” Jace began.
Ari looked like a child who didn’t know if he was in trouble or not.
“He’s your uncle.”
“Uncle.” Ari smiled. “I have an uncle.” He studied Sheldon carefully, holding the bottle of orange juice close to him. “How do I get an uncle?”
“I’m your father’s brother,” Sheldon said. He kept his eyes on the boy and didn’t meet Jace’s gaze. Jace thought that was the second time he’d ever referred to him as his brother and not his half brother.
Ari looked at Jace. “You have a brother?”
Jace nodded.
“Wow. Can I have one?”
Both men laughed.
“You live in the North,” Ari told Sheldon. “How can you be my uncle?”
Sheldon shifted in his chair so that he and the four-year-old were close to the same level.
“I live in North Carolina, not the North,” Sheldon clarified. “It’s near the ocean.”
