San Joaquin Valley, California
Scott rode towards the creek that cuts through the upper pasture and eventually provides the cool waters for Martin’s Lake. He thought it was rather ironic that, according to Jelly, this is where he would find his brother clearing branches from a downed tree in order to free up the stream’s flow.
Riding along the creek’s edge, Scott first spotted Barranca tied up with his brother's rifle leaning against a nearby tree. Not far from the embankment was Johnny, knee deep in water wrestling with several large branches entangled with smaller debris from upstream. ‘This didn’t happen overnight - no doubt when I was in Boston.’
Dismounting, Scott was met with an unwanted greeting.
“Get back on your horse, brother. I don’t need your help”
Rolling up his sleeves, the older brother waded in. “By the looks of things, I have to disagree.”
“You’re pretty good at that aren’t ya, Scott? Disagreein’ with the way things look. Don’t need your help. Don’t want your help. Get the hell outta here.”
Ignoring his younger brother, Scott grabbed one of the larger branches hoping to move it enough to start dislodging some the smaller ones. “I think we should talk, Johnny.”
“That’s another thing…you think too much, brother. As a matter of fact, you think too much for people who didn’t even ask for it.” Johnny straightened up so Scott could have a better view of the contempt reflected in his eyes. “I think that makes you one judgmental sonofabitch."
‘I was right. This is going to pick-up where the shoving match ended.’
Scott let go of the branch to meet his brother head on. “Well, John, if I didn’t need to be constantly cleaning up your messes because you’re an arrogant, ignorant, pain in the ass then maybe I wouldn’t be such a judgmental sonofabitch.”
Johnny’s eyes narrowed. “What messes?”
“Let’s start with going into town to find the first female who will wrap her legs around you.”
“I’m confused brother. Are we talkin’ about my Saturday nights or your cousin?”
Scott was actually surprised when his fist connected with the jawbone that sent his younger brother tripping backwards down into the water. The only person more surprised was Johnny.
Recovering quickly, he came up from the stream like a raging bull to tackle Scott’s mid-section. At that moment, both brothers would agree creek bed stones do not make for soft landings.
Once standing and separating long enough to get their footing, the men’s battle continued.
Dodging his younger brother’s flying fist, Scott landed his own punch to his opponent’s ribs. Doubled over, Johnny felt Scott’s words pummeling down on him. “Goddammit, Johnny! You were right, little brother. Money changes people but you’re the one that needs to change. Listen up! Kinsey wants to invest in a vineyard and be a successful businesswoman. She deserves the respect and I don’t think you’re capable of giving it to her, you pig-headed ass.”
Reaching off to his left, Johnny latched on to a hefty branch and came up swinging. Connecting with Scott’s upper arm, the blow sent the older brother stumbling sideways. “You don’t know what I’m capable of Scott. You never give me the chance.”
Rubbing his upper arm, Scott made an observation. “It appears you’re capable of fighting dirty.”
“Dirty?! Who threw the sucker punch?”
The sharp crack of a gunshot brought both young men to a halt. Turning their heads in the direction of the abrupt noise, each caught Kinsey falling hard to a sitting position while holding Johnny’s rifle. Her shocked expression held for a moment before being replaced with one of superiority. Placing the rifle aside, she rose, readjusted her hat and announced…
“Stupid. Boys.”
Walking stiffly back to her mare, she winched only slightly as she settled back in the saddle. Before leaving, the less-than-sharp shooter stuck out her chin and reaffirmed her verdict.
“Stupid.”
Breathing hard from exertion, the brothers stood a few minutes trying to comprehend what they just saw. While pointing in the direction of Kinsey’s departure with the branch still in his hand, Johnny was the first to verbalize his thoughts.
“Boston, when I get my hands on that little girl I’m going to paint her back porch red. She had no business firing my rifle.”
“I can’t argue that one. However, considering how hard the recoil set her down on the ground, I doubt you could add much to the impression it has already made.”
Throwing the branch away, Johnny leaned over placing his hands on his knees still trying to catch his breath. Scott detected amusement in his brother’s voice. “Do you think she’s fired a gun before?”
Scott wiped his hand across his mouth. “No. We best teach her how before she shoots something important…like one of us.”
The older brother dragged his sore body out of the creek and fell back on the embankment with his younger brother following suit.
“My arm hurt.”
“My jaw hurts more.”
“When did you start falling in love with her, Johnny?”
“The first day when she almost tumbled off that damn cliff.”
Silence.
“Scott, when did you realize I was falling in love with her?”
“The night when we went to the opera house in Denver. You wore that God-awful hat to please her.”
“You said I looked good in that hat.”
“I lied.”
Silence.
“Have you told her you love her, little brother?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I know she doesn’t feel the same.”
Scott sat up and looked out across the creek. “Give it time Johnny. Kinsey’s…”
“Complicated.”
Scott smiled. “She can’t help it. She comes from a legacy of complicated.”
Silence.
Johnny sat up and held out his hand. “Reset the clock?”
Shaking his brother’s hand, Scott agreed. “Reset the clock.”
Johnny fell back to his previous position. “Why does she want to own a vineyard?”
“To produce champagne that even Boston will drink.”
“Damn.” Johnny sighed. “All right. Tell me more.”
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