“None of that matters,” Howard states, holding his head higher as he swipes a thin hand down his front, and I notice a stain near the beltline. “It’s mine now. So get off it.”
“It’s hers, and you know it.”
The space around us stills to silence.
“Pardon me?” I ask, my voice rings low as I glare at Jedd. His eyes close for a moment.
“Howard holds the rights to the farm,” I clarify. I’d like to argue it’s ours in deed, collectively as a married couple, but I’m certain Ewell left everything to his son.
“No,” Jedd corrects. “He doesn’t.”
“Jedd,” Howard warns, but a question lingers in his tone. Through gritted teeth, Howard hisses, “This is not your concern.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, still facing Jedd, whose eyes meet mine once again, but there’s a shift in the midnight color. Something I’ve never seen in the teasing orbs—fear. Fear, because he knows something I don’t yet clearly should. My voice fluctuates between a rasp and a groan. “What do you know?”
“He doesn’t own the land, Beverly. You do.”
The trees in the distance stop rustling. The wind halts in blowing. The barn seems to straighten as the statement swirls around me.
“What?” I ask, the question drawn out like a whistle.
“Jedd, I’m warning you,” Howard begins, stepping forward. “Get off my land.” Tower shifts, placing his body between my husband and my lover. The pit of my stomach rolls over, and tears prickle in my eyes.
Jedd exhales, wiping down his face one more time. “I was going to tell you.”
I shake my head in disbelief.
“Janice Julius was Ewell’s attorney when he was sick. She handled his will, and Ewell willed the land to you. Everything is yours, Beverly. Yours and Hannah’s.”
I can’t process what he’s saying to me. “Why?”
“I don’t know. I guess he loved you more than his own son.”
I blink, astonished. “I mean, how do you know this?”
Jedd pauses a beat. “Janice is my sister.”
His sister. Howard’s love. Ewell’s attorney. My attorney.
“You need to go.” His eyes widen a fraction and then harden. Howard claps his hands together once, so loudly my shoulders flinch and my heart skips.
“I’m not leaving.”
Howard interjects, “Yes, you are. And don’t think you can hole up at that old house like your retard brother.” The next minute happens so quickly, it takes me a moment to register Jedd clocks Howard in the jaw, forcing him back against the hood of his car. He quickly recovers himself, hesitantly moving his lower face side to side.
“That’s assault,” Howard states as if he’s an expert at law.
“You’re lucky I don’t murder you,” Jedd threatens.
Tower shifts between the men again, and Howard retorts, “That’s a threat. Beverly is my witness.”
“Beverly is nothing to you,” Jedd hollers, and I’m not certain how to take his meaning, but I have other questions.
“What house?”
“Baby, there are things you don’t need to concern yourself with,” Howard mocks me, reminding me of his past opinions. He thinks I’m stupid, worthless, uneducated, and ridiculous. I will away the memories and glare at Jedd.
“Crawfords,” Jedd clarifies, and I stare at him, confusion written on my face.
“I don’t underst—”
“Jedd is Crawford’s son. Janice is his sister,” Howard clarifies, the tone patronizing once again as if he needs to draw me a diagram.
“But you said Hasting…” I stare at Jedd, my brows pinch.
“Hasting Crawford, you—” Howard stops, but ninny floats unsaid. “Not like that, you ninny.” “Over here, you ninny.” Recall rushes through my head like a file cabinet opening and a gust of wind tossing out the papers.
“Baby,” Howard self-corrects. “Hasting Crawford, baby.” Howard’s voice does nothing to soothe me.
“But you’re Jedd Flemming,” I stress. Did he lie to me? Is he someone who he isn’t? I step back from him, swaying on my crutches, and this time, Tower reaches out for me. Long fingers curl over my upper arm to steady me, and I meet the sorrowful eyes of someone trapped in an awkward situation.
“Ma’am,” he mutters, and I nod to acknowledge I can stand on my own.
“Hasting Crawford was my stepfather,” Jedd clarifies. He reaches for me himself, as if worried I’ll fall back.
“But Crawford was…” the neighbor. Our neighbor. My neighbor. The land Howard won in a poker game. You stole it. The land Ewell coveted after the death of his sister and the loss of his love. You took advantage of Boone. My gaze drifts from Howard to Jedd as I slowly piece things together.
“So Janice was…” the woman he was engaged to when I got pregnant. The woman he claimed he loved more than anyone. The woman who he planned to run away with.
“But she is your…” sister. I’ve lost control to complete thoughts as I look at Jedd. If Howard had married Janice, Ewell hoped to obtain the land, settling the Townsen-Crawford feud forever. Instead, Janice left Howard because of me, and then Howard won the land from the gambling son.
“You?” Did Jedd gamble away the family land? Did he lose it to Howard?
“Boone,” Jedd adds. “My half-brother Boone, who’s younger than me, lost the land.”
Howard claps again, and the sound echoes. My head turns as if in slow motion as I glance up at him, now perched on the hood of his car.
“Well, now that we’ve taken a trip down memory lane and drawn the family tree, I repeat, get the fuck off my property,” Howard states.
“Beverly’s property,” Jedd corrects.
My property.
I blink.
I blink again.
Jedd comes into focus, and my eyes widen.
“The house on the edge of the land. Your brother lived there, and that’s why you asked about it.” I pause, still gathering my thoughts. “Which means the land you lost…”
Where I’m from doesn’t exist anymore.
Because it’s mine.
“Is this what you wanted?” My voice cracks, the threat of tears no longer a hint but a thundering warning. Jedd doesn’t answer me, and to my surprise, Howard holds perfectly still with his arms crossed and his head lowered. “Is this why you wanted to marry me?”
Howard’s head shoots up, and he stares at Jedd, but Jedd hasn’t moved. Only his nostrils flare, the anger of a wild horse ready to buck. His hand fisted at his side.
“Things changed.”
“But you wanted the land,” I shout, swallowing back the tears. I will not cry in front of these men. These horrible, despicable, distrustful men. “You wanted the land, and I own it.” Reality hits hard. “You knew I owned it.”
I pause, gathering the achy thought and the will to hold back tears. “It wasn’t never about me. Never me, but the land.”
“Bee.” His mouth moves, but all I hear is the blood rushing in my ears. A cathartic thump, thump, thump reminding me I’m alive when I wish the earth would open and bury me six feet under. He steps up to me, ignoring both Howard and Tower, boxing me in as he does, stroking my hair behind my ear. “Bee, it’s me. You know me. I’ve told you. Only you. This is the life I’ve always wanted, and I want it with you.”