Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
My footsteps were heavy across the wooden floors before I found myself unlocking the office door in the back. I walked around the space, knelt next to the old desk, which was falling apart. It was odd that this room hadn’t been kept in as good a shape as the rest of the building.
I opened all the drawers, but of course they were empty. I had no idea what I was even doing, but something was fueling me in that moment. I remembered Isaac’s teasing about false bottoms, and checked for those as well, laughing at my ridiculousness.
Maybe I was a glutton for punishment, looking for something I didn’t want to find, or maybe I wanted to find some kind of something to save the day, to prove to Big Daddy that although my family had done bad things, they hadn’t stolen that damn recipe. If I could prove it, maybe that would make things easier. Maybe that would mean Big Daddy would somehow accept…whatever the fuck this was between Brody and me.
What in the hell am I doing? I shook my head. This wasn’t an episode of Scooby Doo. I didn’t know what I thought I’d find.
I stood and took a step. My foot caught on something…a loose floorboard, I realized. My eyes darted around the room, as if someone was somehow playing a trick on me. That loose-floorboard thing wasn’t really something that happened, was it?
Still, I knelt back down and tried to lift it. The damn thing wouldn’t come straight out, so I went and found a hammer, and then, bending down, I began removing nails from the wood. I took the loose board off, then another and another. I didn’t know what in the hell got into me, but it was when I removed the fourth board that I found it—an old tin box with photos inside. I didn’t recognize the people, but someone had written Arthur and Randall on one with two men, their arms around each other and huge smiles on their faces. There were a few photos of them together, some where they were laughing, others with a mason jar full of whiskey between them. There was even a photo of them with someone I assumed was Dorothy.
At the very bottom was an old piece of paper. I unfolded it carefully. The damn thing felt like it could rip apart easily. The lettering was faded, but when I squinted, I was able to read it.
Randall,
I remember the first day we met. My pa had beat the shit out of me, and I took off to the creek and met you there. You took me home and got me drunk for the first time, off illegal whiskey. I fell in love that night, both with you and the damn bottle.
I never told ya. How could I? I knew about you and Dorothy. Was jealous but not of you, of her. I asked her to marry me when it was you I wanted. That started the downward spiral of it all, didn’t it?
But I couldn’t admit it. How could I? They woulda had me committed, or killed.
I will always regret everything I did after that. The duel, shooting you, taking what was yours. And having done that, I could never get myself right again. Just kept fuckin’ up, hating everyone and everything around me.
Mitchell Creek should be yours, but I don’t know if I have the balls to ever say it. Haven’t told a soul I stole that recipe from you. Don’t know if you’ll ever read these words. You were right. I’m a coward.
I’m sorry.
Art
My hand couldn’t stop shaking. The letter dropped from between my fingers.
Proof that Mitchell Creek, everything that my family had built, was a lie. It came from a stolen recipe that never belonged to us in the first place. My grandfather had loved Brody’s, and he’d stolen from him, lied to him, and hurt him, all because of a broken heart.
I crawled backward, away from the letter, as if it were a venomous creature poised to attack.
It was a lie. Christ, it was all a fucking lie. The O’Ralleys had every right to hate us. I hated us. We were liars and thieves and criminals.
Bile crawled up my throat, and I shoved to my feet. I dry-heaved but didn’t vomit. All I could think about was Brody, the O’Ralleys, their struggles over the years, and this feud Big Daddy held on to, how they sure as shit wouldn’t walk away from it now. How could they? Because I had to tell them. There was no way I wouldn’t.
I grabbed the letter and journal, shoved them into the box, then picked up the box and stumbled out of the room.
The second I did, I heard, “Mitchell! Get out here!”
Big Daddy.
Not gonna lie, part of me wanted to stay right where I was, maybe hide and never come out. Well, at least until I could figure out how to unpack the information I just discovered. Even thinking about it made my chest clench to the point my breath could hardly escape.