Some of the faces before them looked hopeful, some looked leery, and some downright hostile. As family, they all knew what Wyatt and Adler had done.

“We’re ready,” Clay said in a firm voice to his brothers. “Uno, dos, tres.”

He drew his bow across the strings, Wyatt began strumming, and Adler put the trumpet to his lips.

The music picked up confidence, even though they’d had little time to practice. Each instrument added its own flavor and strength, blending and weaving together.

Adler lowered his trumpet, and they sang, their voices merging and climbing into the cool air. The familiar Spanish rolled off Clay’s tongue.

They watched each other as they played, keeping tempo in silent communication.

Clay’s heart swelled to fullness. In the future, moments of tension would arise between them, maybe even arguments. But nothing—nothing—could rip them apart again.

At the back of the crowd, Daddy stood with his arm around Mama, who wiped her face with a hankie. Both faces were wild with emotion.

This barbecue was a feast thrown for their three prodigal sons.

Three. Clay might not have run away, but he’d been lost in a pit. And that pit had been partly of his own making. But he was out now, home for good, and joy welled up through his violin and his voice.

He’d been through a dark season. A time to lose what he’d treasured. A time to mourn his lost dreams. A time of war.

Now he lived in a new season. A time to heal, not just bodies but his family and his own heart. A time to keep and to love. And today, a time to laugh and dance.

Prayers of thanks floated up to the heavens. Only the Lord could turn the seasons. Only the Lord could put the shards of his life and his family back together into something stronger and more beautiful than before.

Wyatt, Adler, and Clay struck the final chord in unison, and the crowd applauded, their faces grinning or teary-eyed or hesitant, but each transformed.

With his bow in one hand and his violin in the other, Clay draped his arms over the shoulders of his brothers. His whole brothers. And they bowed as one.

His throat constricted. Not only had his forgiveness been the key to restoring his family, but it was the key to his brothers becoming accepted in the community again.

After the applause died, Pawpaw stepped onto the stage. “Dinner is served.”

Wyatt and Adler each gave Clay a glance full of meaning.

“It’s good,” Wyatt said. “It’s good to be back together.”

It certainly was. “Hurry up, or Uncle Emilio will eat all the tamales.”

“No kidding.” Adler poked Wyatt. “Race you.”

Off they ran, and Clay laughed. Some things would never change.