Point to the Blood

By Aiken A. Brown

The spitting image of his famous father, Morgan McLachlan is a blond-haired, country musicloving, high school quarterback growing up in a small Southern town where his daddys memory reigns supreme.

As North River High School in Brantley, Mississippi, longs for a return to its football glory days, Morgan often feels destined to live his life stuck in the shadow of someone elses dream.

In a town holding out for a hero, Morgan navigates friendship, love, loss, and along the way, he learns lessons about all three from the father he tragically never met, the father who raised him to always point to the blood, and the only Father who can hear Morgans cries in his darkest hour.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: May 2, 2017
• ISBN: 9781532023262

Aiken A. Brown

Aiken Brown graduated summa cum laude from Spring Hill College in Mobile, Alabama. She is the author of In a Brother’s Eyes: the Brant McLachlan Story (2005), For Such a Time as This (2007), Son of a Soldier (2012) and His Heart I Hold (2015). For more information about the author, visit Aiken Brown at www.aikenbrown.blogspot.com.

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Chapter One

I n Brantley, Mississippi, the Fourth of July means pickup trucks parked in the field next to the lake, tailgates down, music blaring, families cooking out, kids running around with hotdogs and watermelon wedges, and everyone gathered at nightfall for the annual fireworks display.

Jennifer McLachlan sat on a quilt in the bed of her husband Christian’s white pickup truck as she watched her eleven-year-old daughter standing precociously next to her daddy as he addressed the crowd, delivering the official end-of-summer, kickoff-to- football-season speech that had become a Fourth of July tradition.

Bryant, long and lanky, with dark, confident eyes, freckles on her nose and her brown hair pulled back in a braid, wore a blue and white North River Football tank top and red sunglasses in the shape of stars as she clapped at all the appropriate moments during her daddy’s speech. Bryant wasn’t new to this tradition, and she knew exactly which one-liners would send the high school football obsessed crowd into fits of applause. Her daddy had been the head, varsity, football coach at North River High School all of her life, and, in a way, the spunky little girl always attached to his side at events like this one had become somewhat of an unofficial team mascot. Her confident facial expressions and encouraging gestures as she nodded in agreement with her daddy’s sentiments and pumped up the townspeople to get behind Coach McLachlan’s efforts to return North River Football back to its glory days, made Bryant a crowd favorite.

You see, when Coach Christian McLachlan played football at North River High School, the town celebrated four straight State Championship victories. That was back before Christian ever saw himself returning to coach at his alma mater, a time when his own dad was the only coach he knew, back before he and Jennifer had four children to raise, and before their hometown of Cummins, Mississippi, was renamed for his brother and the football field where he had spent some of the best moments of his life was donated a new scoreboard that dubbed it Brant McLachlan Memorial Field.

Brant McLachlan was a quarterback like no other, both in athleticism and in personality. Brant personified what superstardom was really all about. His athletic ability placed him in a class that was all his own, but it was his charm and his contagious charisma that changed the way one small town perceived the role of quarterback. His hometown fell in love with him; they believed in him, placed him on a pedestal, attached to him every accolade in the book and, in return, Brant never lost a single football game during his four year tenure as North River High School’s golden boy.

Ever since the McLachlan triplets, Christian, Ethan and Brant, played their final high school football game, capturing their fourth and final State Championship in the process, North River High School had never been back to compete in that sacred game. The State Championship game had eluded North River for years, but, with each passing year, their storied football history took on a life of its own, becoming a mixture of impressive facts and a thing of legendary folklore.

Many of the teams that took the field following the Brant McLachlan led dynasty that had spoiled the town into believing that winning came easily, struggled to even qualify for the playoffs. In a town that was still collectively grieving a life cut tragically short, dominance had faded into disappointment. However, things had recently turned around. It wasn’t a fluke; it didn’t come by surprise; in fact, it had been eighteen years in the making, eighteen years of North River’s zealous fans watching, waiting, rubbing their hands together in anticipation of a quarterback named McLachlan.

Hailed as the savior of North River Football even as he was playing with his dump trucks in a mound of red dirt behind the end zone innocently unaware that he was viewed as the chosen one, Morgan McLachlan was coming of age before the watchful eyes of a hopeful town.

Morgan led his team to the playoffs his junior year. The town that had, for so long, grieved the loss of its favorite son, was, for three, glorious weeks, revived by the performance of a gutsy quarterback who, with his curly, blond hair, stunning blue eyes and natural swagger, took everyone who watched him play back to a time gone by.

Nearly identical to his father in appearance, Morgan not only looked strikingly similar to Brant, but he fully understood the weight that his last name carried in his hometown. He understood the expectations that seemed to be his birthright.

North River lost by a touchdown in the semi-final round of the playoffs that year against a team that had been predicted by every newspaper in the state to absolutely slaughter them. That night, Morgan played the game of his life. On that field in front of everyone, with his back against the wall, Morgan found that little something inside of himself that you just can’t teach, the absolute will to win, the insatiable drive that had always been Brant’s secret weapon.

Brant’s talent was undeniable; he was simply the best football player on any field he ever stepped on, but what Brant had that made the difference during close games was simply a greater desire to win than his opponents.

Morgan, on the other hand, had always played quarterback like a talented athlete who was scared of messing up, relying heavily on execution and precision. He played with the weight of expectations that he felt he could never live up to, and, during close games, it showed.

A naturally gifted athlete and an extremely hard worker, Morgan had the ability, but, in the spotlight on Friday nights, he often played like a young man who knew that no matter what he did, it would never be good enough. Brant McLachlan was a legend; he had made everything look so ridiculously easy, and, Morgan knew that every move he made was being compared to something that was nearly impossible to live up to.

During that final playoff game of his junior year, as he scratched and clawed his way toward what would have been a huge upset, Morgan found his voice. He emerged in that game as a leader, and he discovered the fire down deep inside of him that allowed him to do things he hadn’t been confident enough to try in big game situations in the past. He was laying it all on the line that night, and he looked more like his famous daddy than he could have ever imagined.

As Christian watched Morgan play that night, even as time ticked off the clock and defeat became inevitable, he knew that something had changed. Christian saw it in Morgan’s eyes and heard it in the tone of his voice; the whole town witnessed it in such a tangible way that before the heartbreaking loss was even in the books, a fire burned in the pit of their bellies in excitement of the year ahead.

This upcoming season, their star quarterback would be a senior; the stars had aligned; the team was in place; the expectations were high … this would finally be the year that North River High School Football reclaimed its place as Mississippi’s premier, high school football team.

Christian delivered his kickoff speech that Fourth of July with the confidence of a coach who knew he wasn’t just telling his hometown what they wanted to hear. These weren’t just celebratory sound bites cooked up for the Fourth of July celebration. He truly believed that this was the team to finally make it happen. As he left the stage, his eyes met his wife’s, and Jennifer smiled back at him, offering him a proud thumbs-up. His favorite cheerleader during his high school football days was now his favorite cheerleader in life. She was an incredible wife, partner and mother, and, as Christian looked at her that day, he was captivated not only by her outward beauty, but he was inspired by her strength, moved by the love that radiated from her and incredibly grateful for the honor of travelling with her the difficult journey they had taken together. Hand-in-hand, they had walked through the valley of the shadow of death, and, though scars remained, they were stronger for it.

As Jennifer helped her mother and mother-in-law finish setting out food for their picnic that Fourth of July, she looked around at her four kids. One thing that Brant’s death had taught her was that life is all about the little moments. The grand achievements and memorable milestones make for great stories and treasured photographs, but it’s the private moments, the insignificant day-to-day, the uniquely personal mannerisms, the inside jokes, the loving touch and easy banter that you miss most when you lose someone you love. Knowing in an all too personal way that nothing is guaranteed made Jennifer determined to live in every moment she had with her family and never become too busy to soak in every memory.

Brandon, the oldest of Jennifer and Christian’s four children, was sitting on the tailgate of his pickup truck with his arm around Taylor, her new engagement ring sparkling as it caught the July sun. Once a fairly talented wide receiver at North River High School, Brandon was now a college student at the University of Alabama, where he planned to earn a degree in education, with the intention of returning to his alma mater to teach history and coach football.

Morgan, unsurprisingly, was catching festive, red, white and blue M&M’s in his mouth as his cousin and best friend, Emily, tossed them with varying degrees of difficulty from her perch on the toolbox of Christian’s truck.

Connor, the shy one of Jennifer and Christian’s four children, was sweetly helping his PawPaw cut up another watermelon, thoroughly enjoying his conversation with a man he greatly admired.

Bryant and Christian were taking a series of silly selfies on Christian’s phone, only to be photobombed by Christian’s best friend Tommy Jackson and Tommy’s only child, his precious daughter Katie.

Food’s ready, gang! Jennifer called as she began handing out American flag themed paper plates. Morgan and Emily walked across three tailgates toward their grandparents’ truck, where an entire spread of food was set up. Jennifer handed them both a plate. Eat up, kiddos! she smiled.

I’ve got hamburgers and barbeque chicken ready over here, Ethan called.

You don’t have to tell me twice, Tommy replied as he headed toward the grill.

It smells amazing! Christian concurred.

Brandon? Taylor? What would y’all like to drink? Jennifer asked.

Taylor shook her head with a sweet smile. "Y’all have worked so hard to put this together; I can’t thank you enough for including me, but I can certainly get my own drink out of the cooler while you fix yourself a much deserved plate."

I’ll take a bottled water, Mama! Morgan called.

Me too, Aunt Jen! Emily grinned.

"I didn’t hear her offer you two anything," Christian quipped, as Jennifer took two bottles of water from the ice chest, diligently dried them with a paper towel and tossed them to her son and her niece.

With a little shrug, Morgan grinned at Christian. She finds joy in the service of others … I would never dream of robbing her of that joy.

Trudat, Emily said in her classily dry monotone.

Christian rolled his eyes.

Jennifer’s sister-in-law, Hannah, laughed. You two are a mess, she shook her head as she wagged a playful finger at her daughter Emily and Emily’s ever-present partner-in- crime.

About that time a couple of friends caught the scent of fresh, tailgate food and wandered over. Hi, Trevor. How’s it going, buddy? Hi, Mara, cute nail polish, Jennifer greeted them. Trevor Massey was a wide receiver on her husband’s football team and Mara was one of the cheerleaders on the squad Jennifer sponsored and coached. We have more than enough food, kids. There’s fried okra, baked beans, potato salad, corn salad, hamburgers, hotdogs, barbeque … help yourselves.

Hey, Jed, Christian hollered playfully at an old friend, how about feeding your own kid at one of these shindigs for once?

Trevor, get over here, son … we got food! Jed slurred.

Not like this, Trevor laughed.

Just picking with you, Jed, Christian replied with a smile, trying to ignore the pile of empty cans near Jed’s truck and tell himself that Jed was just responsibly enjoying the holiday, even though Christian knew better.

Trevor, fix a plate for your dad too, Jennifer said, handing him an extra plate. He loves my mom’s potato salad over there. I remember that from years ago.

Bryant, we’ve got those cookies you like over here, sweet girl! Jed motioned her over with a wink. One of these folks made Mrs. Edna’s old recipe!

Everybody in town had old Mrs. Edna’s cookie recipe! People loved her famous cookies so much during church functions or at bake sales that, on her death bed, as a parting gift, she finally revealed her secret recipe to the entire town. However, it was quickly noted that nobody’s cookies ever tasted quite the same as Edna’s used to, and, knowing Edna, Jennifer strongly suspected that the infamous death bed recipe had been purposely short a key ingredient, thus seeing many try and fail to replicate a batch of Edna’s cookies with her very own recipe, leaving the late Mrs. Edna Massey to forever remain the town’s most revered and respected baker. As true as Jennifer knew her conspiracy theory to be, the cookies were still good, and the kids who had never tasted the originals, never knew what they were missing.

Daddy, please? Bryant asked excitedly.

Go ahead, darlin’, Christian laughed as Bryant shoved her plate at him and scampered off. Be sure to say thank you! Christian called after her.

Katie sat crossed-legged next to Connor as she took a bite of fruit salad. Aunt Jen, this is my favorite! Thank you for making it!

You’re welcome, sweetie! Jennifer smiled. Bryant ran back toward them holding a cookie in each hand. Did you bring me one? Jennifer winked knowingly at her daughter.

I can go back; they had a bunch, Mama! Bryant offered.

No, baby, Mama’s got plenty! Jennifer shook her head.

Whatcha got there, Trouble? Get over here! Morgan hollered.

Don’t let him take your cookies! Jennifer laughed.

Bryant held up both cookies and wrinkled her nose sarcastically at her brother. In your dreams, Mo! she declared.

She’s a trip, Mara laughed as she joined Morgan and Emily in the bed of the truck.

We don’t call her Trouble for nothin’! Emily shrugged.

Just then, someone turned their radio up as Firecracker by Josh Turner began to play. From one truck to another, Morgan and Taylor strained their necks to make eye contact as they sang along. Taylor pointed at Morgan as she clapped her hands above her head.

Morgan didn’t miss a beat as he began singing to Mara, then to Emily and then to Katie.

Katie giggled as Morgan put his arm around her. Connor watched and rolled his eyes.

Morgan noticed his cousin, two-year-old Shelby, dancing along as Jennifer videoed her on her cell phone. He jumped down from the truck to join her and finished the song singing to her on one knee. Shelby, twirling in her red, white and blue gingham sundress, giggled hysterically as Morgan danced with her.

Look, Shelby has the same reaction you do, Connor pointed as Katie glared at him.

Shelby has good taste, Katie grinned.

Somebody has a crush on Morgan, Mara sang.

Stop it, Mara, Katie rolled her eyes.

Katie loves Morgan, Mara sang, just for the sake of embarrassing Katie.

She said stop! Connor grumbled under his breath.

"Freshmen," Mara rolled her eyes.

"Freshmen who were actually invited to eat at this particular tailgate, so, unless you can say the same, slow your roll," Emily raised an eyebrow at Mara.

Mara scoffed. First of all, I believe you all heard Coach Jen invite me! Let’s be real. Secondly, Katie, you know I’m only kidding with you. And, for the record, your crush on Morgan is a secret to absolutely no one! Don’t get all red faced and teary on me to get Emily more perpetually perturbed than usual … because that isn’t pleasant for anybody.

I know you were only joking, Mara, Katie nodded shyly as she took a timid bite of her hamburger. It’s okay.

For the record, Emily added, smugly, I have not yet met my sarcasm quota for the day, so I apologize in advance to all who may bear the brunt. She stared only at Mara.

You’re so glib, Mara shook her head.

"You are aware that I only keep you around because you’re one of only a few of my peers who can actually use glib correctly in a sentence and not because I find you remotely tolerable, right?" Emily nodded.

"You keep me around? Mara laughed. Is Morgan aware that you are responsible for vetting his friends, or shall I inform him?"

Oh, bless your heart, Emily laughed with a snarky smile, and the conversation died.

As everyone finished eating, Taylor took her guitar from the cab of Brandon’s truck. Morgan, you ready? she asked. The two of them had been commissioned by the town council to perform a short set of live music before the fireworks began. They often sang at school functions and church gatherings, but this would mark their first Fourth of July celebration to perform together. Morgan and Taylor stood on top of Terry Thornton’s old Ford pickup truck in the center of the crowd and sang a couple country classics before ending the show appropriately with Taylor playing guitar as Morgan kicked off the fireworks with his gorgeous rendition of God Bless the USA.

Jennifer stood with her arms around Christian’s waist as they listened to Morgan’s voice fill the night. Jennifer had never heard a voice she loved as much as Brant’s until the day she heard Morgan sing in church for the first time. He looked like his daddy; he was the star quarterback like his daddy had been; he had his daddy’s charm, his angelic voice, his love of music, and, most of all, like Brant, he had Jennifer’s heart.

Christian kissed the top of his wife’s head and glanced over at his parents as Morgan belted out the words to one of his all-time favorite songs. And I’d gladly stand up next to you and defend her still today, ’cause there ain’t no doubt I love this land … God bless the USA, Morgan sang as Christian watched tears stream down his father’s cheeks. With one arm around his wife, Christian reached out and put one hand on his dad’s shoulder. David McLachlan smiled at his son as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, soaking in his grandson’s familiar voice.

Along with the crowd, all four of Morgan’s grandparents cheered loudly as Morgan finished singing and the fireworks began. Morgan helped Taylor down from the truck as they ran, hand-in-hand, back toward their family.

Brandon greeted them both with one hug. You guys are awesome! he exclaimed. That was beautiful … so good!

Thanks, man, Morgan smiled as Brandon ruffled his younger brother’s hair.

Brandon took Taylor’s hand, and they climbed back into the bed of his truck to watch the fireworks show together.

We love you, buddy, PawPaw McLachlan said as he hugged his grandson.

Good job, bro! Bryant gave him a thumbs-up from high atop Tommy’s shoulders, as she twirled a sparkler in her other hand.

Morgan joined his friends in the bed of his dad’s pickup truck to watch the fireworks show. Emily offered him a high-five and a wink.

That was awesome, Morgan, Katie nodded.

Yeah, seriously, bro, Connor concurred. You should be on tour.

Thanks, y’all, Morgan smiled as the fireworks display began in earnest.

That was a big one! Shelby could be heard yelling atop her father’s shoulders. Ben Smith, Jennifer’s younger brother, and his wife Kristen smiled at one another as their daughter clapped excitedly.

Brandon put his arm around Taylor. I love you, he whispered as he kissed her lips.

Standing beneath the night sky, Jennifer smiled at Christian before he kissed her. She let her lips linger on his. I see firecrackers when you kiss me, Christian McLachlan, she flirted playfully.

In the bed of the truck, Morgan brushed Mara’s ponytail off her shoulder.

Subtle, Mara said coyly.

Then perhaps my charms would be more appreciated elsewhere, Morgan shrugged in a pointed whisper.

Probably so, but it’s the best I can do tonight, Mara nodded.

You two don’t even like each other, Emily groaned. Why must I endure this charade?

You know, Morgan, it loses some of its appeal every time I have to kiss you with your bestie chiming in like she’s your moral conscience, Mara rolled her eyes.

What would a make-out session between you and me be without Emily objecting? Morgan shrugged.

"Less awkward? Normal? Better for our friendship?" Emily pondered aloud as Mara ignored the question and pulled Morgan into a deep kiss.

Christian glanced over at his truck, and, when he didn’t see Morgan or Mara’s heads above the surface, he raised a curious eyebrow. Morgan McLachlan, eyes on the sky, son! he called.

Morgan sat up abruptly. "Oh, you, of all people, are kidding me! I see you two over there … acting like your children aren’t even present!"

Christian smiled, lifting Jennifer’s hand into the air. I put a ring on it, my friend … so whatcha got to say now?

Morgan straightened his shirt with a sigh. The fireworks are beautiful this year, he grumbled with a half-hearted point of his finger.

Aren’t they! Christian agreed with chipper mockery.

*     *     *

Katie screamed as Connor chased her toward the creek. She had always been chubby compared to the other girls, but she didn’t care. She got it honest from her daddy, and when her mother checked out on them when she was just a toddler, Katie and her daddy became quite the team. She had his eyes, his spirit, and, unfortunately she thought, his thighs … but he had always been there for her, and she would take the chubby gene in exchange for his consistent loyalty any day.

Holding hands on a small raft, Brandon and Taylor laughed at them as Katie and Connor both jumped from the ledge. Katie is adorable, Taylor grinned.

Maybe one day my little brother will finally get a clue, Brandon nodded.

I think he knows, Taylor nodded her head. Sweet Connor … you have to give him some time!

Showoff! Brandon screamed as Morgan flipped into the water.

Seriously? Emily rolled her eyes as she waded into the water in her bikini, holding on to her neon green inner tube and carrying a book while shielding it from Morgan’s splash. She sat down in her tube, crossed her ankles, pulled her sunglasses from the top of her head and began to read.

There were already about twenty kids at the creek that summer afternoon when another truckload pulled up.

Oh great, Morgan groaned as he watched a pack of teenagers heading toward the water.

Oh, this should be a good story, Emily sighed, closing her book. Which one of the bikini-clad girls headed this way are we not happy to see, Mo?

It’s nothing, Morgan grumbled as he held on to Emily’s inner tube, peeking above it, spying on the new arrivals. I just accidently winked at Nicole this morning, so now that’s awkward because she thinks it’s a thing.

Emily curled her lip. "How do you accidently wink at somebody pray tell? Eyelash?"

"Eyelash? Morgan scoffed. What? No … on Instant Messenger … one little caps lock mix up … an innocent colon becomes a semicolon, and all of a sudden instead of emoting a polite salutation … I’m cyber flirting with Colie Thompson."

And here she comes now, Emily winked conspiratorially.

Morgan ducked under water.

Good thinking, Mo, Emily called. You just stay under there … I’ll tell you when she’s gone. She shook her head with obvious delight. Moron …

Nicole, already giggling, splashed toward Morgan as he came up for air.

Hey, Colie, he smiled casually, "what’s