The Turning Point

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX- WALLACE O'CONNOR

Heloyse

"Before coming to the farm, I lived in Green Park, right here in Texas. It was me, my mother, and..." he frowned, choosing his words carefully, as if trying to mold the past in a less painful way. "...my father. Our house was next to the Mitchells' house."
He seemed to carry an invisible weight in his tone of voice. He took a deep breath, his expression serious, almost nostalgic. His hands landed on his knees and, for a brief moment, he stared at a point on the living room carpet, lost in memories.
"After my mother died, they took care of me."
My eyes narrowed in curiosity.
"They? But what about your father?"
Will crossed his arms and looked at me intensely, as if he were evaluating how far he wanted to share his story. After a brief silence, he replied:
"My..." He repeated the word with a slight tremor in his voice and frowned, as if he had difficulty referring to that figure. "He wasn't in a position to stay with me. And after a few years, he died."
The news caught me off guard.
"Oh... I'm sorry."
He shrugged, as if wanting to minimize the impact of the revelation.
"It was a long time ago."
"Still, I know you must have suffered a lot."
Will nodded slowly, his gaze returning to wander around the room. The curtains waved gently with the wind that entered through the large window, and the distant sound of the horses in the pasture brought a melancholic melody to the environment.
"But, if Calvin and Eva took care of you, when did your grandfather look for you?"
He squeezed his hands, a habit I noticed whenever he was about to say something important.
"Wallace O'Connor wasn't my real grandfather. To tell you the truth, before my parents died, I didn't even know who he was."
My forehead furrowed in surprise.
"No? But then...? Then why are you called O'Connor? How did you inherit everything from him?"
I regretted it as soon as I asked the question. My curiosity sounded intrusive, and a pang of guilt went through me.
"Oh my God, sorry! It's none of my business."
Will smiled slightly, but without humor.
"Everyone here knows I'm his adopted son."
He ran his hand over his chin, took a deep breath, and continued:
"There was a period when the bank took our house and put it up for sale. I didn't know my mother's relatives. She wasn't born in Texas. My mother was from Los Angeles. She met her husband there, when he traveled around, working in construction. He was Texan and brought my mother to live with him. As far as I know, she broke off contact with her family."
Will paused for a moment, squeezing his fingers on his knees before continuing.
"My paternal grandfather never got along with my father... Which, in the end, was a relief, because I didn't have to live with him." His voice took on a bitter tone. "He had problems with the law."
Silence hung between us, laden with revelations I didn't expect. He rubbed his hands on his jeans, showing some nervousness.
"And he didn't want me either. But, anyway, my biological grandfather died too. I found out when I was sixteen. In short, I had no one left in the family to take care of me."
The weight of those words lingered in the air.
"How old were you when you were adopted?" I asked softly.
"Fourteen."
"Why didn't the Mitchells adopt you? And how did you live with them if they weren't your family?"
He ran his hand through his hair, pushing some strands away from his face, and looked me in the eyes before answering:
"Eva worked as a cleaner at the judge's house, and he helped by getting permission for them to keep me. That way, I didn't have to go to an orphanage."
His expression softened a little when he spoke of Eva and Calvin, but soon returned to seriousness.
"At that time, I was eight years old. My father hadn't died yet, but the law wouldn't allow me to stay with him. Besides, he was missing. So, the condition was that I stay with the Mitchells until someone adopted me."
Will sighed heavily.
"They wanted to adopt me, but they always prefer those who have more conditions to take care of a child. Their financial condition, at the time, didn't help."
"And then Wallace appeared?"
He nodded.
"Yes. Wallace was already an old, lonely man... And he decided to adopt me."
The room, lit by the soft light of dusk, seemed warmer and more welcoming as Will delved into his memories.
"Didn't he have children?" I asked.
"He had two. Richard stepped on a mine when he was in the army. He was a marine. Ruth burned to death on an oil platform."
My breath was suspended for a second.
"My God..."
Will continued:
"They lived and worked as simple people, even knowing they had a fortune to enjoy. They always had Wallace as an example. When they were little, their mother died of lung cancer. So, after years alone, Wallace decided to adopt a child."
"And then you arrived..."
He nodded.
"We both lost the most important people in our lives. He understood me. As soon as he adopted me, he gave Eva and Calvin jobs and we all came to live here."
My eyes wandered around the room, imagining young Will growing up in that imposing place, trying to find his space amidst so many changes.
"So, if you see the Mitchells as your parents, why do you keep them working?"
He chuckled softly.
"Calvin wanted to work here. Wallace offered them a house, a vehicle, and many other things, but they didn't accept. They would only accept if they worked. After Wallace died, I asked them to stop, but they refused. Eva says it's her way of taking care of me."
Will looked at the armchair near the fireplace, his eyes becoming a little teary.
"No money in the world would pay for what they did for me and what my grandfather Wallace did. Sometimes, I look at that armchair and see him smoking his pipe, listening to music on his battery-powered radio."
His tone was laden with longing.
I approached slowly, placing my hand on his. Will took a second to notice, but when he felt my touch, his eyes fixed on mine.
"You call Eva mom," I commented.
"Sometimes, yes."
"Why don't you call Calvin dad? Or even Wallace?"
His jaw tightened instantly. Will stood up quickly, as if I had touched a too sensitive spot.
"I... " He ran his hand over his lips, clearly uncomfortable. "I think I've said too much."
"Forgive me..."
"No. I'm the one who begs forgiveness. I just don't want to talk about it."
My heart squeezed a little.
"It's okay, Will. I understand. I'll go..."
But before I could move away, he held my face and kissed me. The kiss started softly but soon deepened, igniting an urgent warmth between us.
When we pulled away, breathless, he whispered:
"You smell good, sunshine."
"Why do you call me that?"
"Because you are one. Simple as that."
He smiled before kissing me again.
Will was still slightly out of breath when he whispered:
"I still want to take you to see the farm."
His hoarse, deep voice sounded almost like a promise. I just nodded, speechless, while I felt my heart still racing from what had just happened between us.
The afternoon was already advancing when Will took me to the stables. The smell of fresh hay mixed with the natural perfume of the horses filled the air, bringing a feeling of calm and connection to that place. The stable was spacious and well organized, with impeccably clean stalls. The soft sound of hooves scraping the wooden floor and the occasional whinny of the horses created a peaceful melody.
Will stopped in front of a magnificent horse with a dark, shiny coat, its defined muscles gleaming under the golden light that entered through the cracks in the stable.
"This is Diamante," he said, while stroking the animal's neck with familiarity.
The horse snorted softly and tilted its head towards Will, as if it understood what was happening. With agile and experienced movements, he picked up the saddle and adjusted it with precision, checking each buckle and strap before giving me a look.
"Ready?"
I nodded, and he approached, holding my waist firmly as he helped me mount. The touch of his hands sent a shiver down my spine, but soon I concentrated on the new experience of being on such an imposing horse.
Will climbed up behind me, enveloping me with his body. I felt the warmth of his chest against my back and the firmness of his hands holding the reins around me. The contact was intimate and enveloping, as if we were one at that moment.
We rode in silence through the open fields, letting the warm afternoon breeze envelop us. The smell of earth mixed with the soft aroma of lavender that spread in some distant point of the farm created a natural and relaxing perfume.
I settled better against him, resting my head on his chest. We seemed like a couple of lovers, sharing a simple and everyday moment.
Will guided us to a large pasture where the cattle spread out, hundreds of bulls of different shades of brown and black walked across the field, while in the distance, eight men on horseback surrounded them with precision and mastery. The shouts of the cowboys mixed with the mooing and the sound of hooves hitting the dry ground.
A group of border collie dogs ran excitedly when they noticed our presence. The animals were agile and disciplined, moving as if they were dancing around the cattle, fulfilling their functions with impressive intelligence.
We got off the horse.
Sony, the dog that had scared me near the barn, came running to Will, wagging his tail frantically.
"Hey, boy!" Will smiled, bending down a little to pet the animal.
I leaned down, extending my hesitant hand. Sony sniffed my fingers before licking my palm enthusiastically, and I laughed at the sensation.
After a few minutes of watching the dogs in action, we mounted again and headed to another part of the property.
Will began to tell me about the tournaments he had participated in Dallas, describing with enthusiasm the competitions and the prizes he had won.
"Diamante and Imperador are the best horses I've ever had. They've never disappointed me," he said proudly.
As we rode, we passed an orchard full of fruit trees, the sweet scent of ripe fruit lingering in the air. Further on, the landscape opened up to a vastness of land that seemed to stretch to the horizon.
A stretch of the field seemed to have been painted lilac.
"Is that lavender?" I asked, marveling.
Will smiled at my reaction.
"Yes. We have lavender fields."
"Do you have a farm or a small country?" I joked, still absorbing the immensity of the place.
He laughed.
"Almost that. It's two thousand ninety-eight square kilometers and extends through almost seven counties."
My mouth opened in shock.
"Are you kidding me? That's land for days!"
Will raised an eyebrow amused.
"So you're a rich cowboy farmer who dresses like he doesn't have money to buy shirts that aren't faded?"
He laughed loudly, throwing his head back.
"What did you want, Heloyse? That I put on a tie to herd the cattle?"
My laughter mixed with his, but soon my attention returned to the landscape and the information he began to provide me.
"Here we have two main complexes," he pointed to the south side. "Seven thousand one hundred and forty head of cattle."
My eyes widened.
"Seven thousand?"
"Exactly. In addition, we have hundreds of houses, twenty-three cowboy lodges..."
He pointed in another direction.
"Warehouses, five hundred and twenty quarter horses, not counting the wild horses, Appaloosas, and Paint horses. Fourteen thousand hectares of cultivated area, more than a thousand oil wells..."
Each new piece of information left me more impressed.
"We also have a diverse fauna. Waterfowl, deer, wild boars, and other animals live around here."
I continued listening, trying to absorb the grandeur of the farm.
"We have cotton and lavender plantations, this river, lakes, streams... and hectares still unexplored."
I moved away a little to look at him better.
"My goodness! Can you give me a minute to process? I'm trying to figure out which countries would fit in here."
Will let out a laugh and guided the horse back to the stable.
The day was quietly perfect, and I hoped it would continue that way.
But when we arrived, I noticed a figure standing near the stable entrance, waiting for us.
Will immediately tensed, his shoulders stiffened, and his expression closed.
I felt my body stiffen too. Something told me that this encounter wouldn't be pleasant.