Chapter 2
Falcon
Damn this town! I can’t even buy a chicken without getting the third degree. All my life people have thought I was trouble. And sure, I might have been a little wild. I wasn’t good at school. My older brother’s cultivated a bad reputation. So I must be bad too. And so I played into it.
But the army has a way of making you grow up fast. The things I’ve seen.
The scars I have. The boy this town remembers is just a faint memory of the past. But they don’t see it that way.
And sure, maybe I drank a little too much when I came home.
Maybe I was feeling a little lost and out of control.
But I should be able to buy a chicken without striking fear in the hearts of the town folk.
One very pretty town folk in particular.
It is laughable that Willow Brookes should be afraid of me.
She is smarter than me. More educated than me.
Better loved by the town than me. That girl has always had a certain class and grace about her.
She has no reason to fear me. I’ve barely even spoken to her. She is so far above me it’s not even funny. She was always on track. I’m very much from the wrong side of the tracks. She always had a bright future. I’m the bad seed.
Willow Brookes represents everything I don’t like about this small town. A town that judges people on how well mannered they are. Like that means anything in the real world. I’m here because this is where my brother dragged me, when he found me passed out in a bar too many nights in a row.
I’m here because my brothers think I need something familiar. Time to heal. Fresh mountain air. That small town, apple pie life. And I’m here because I really have no idea where else I should be.
It’s been a couple of months. I mostly stick to myself.
And yesterday’s interaction at the feed store, is a good example of why.
It was a surprise to find Willow Brookes working in her dad’s feed store.
A bigger surprise to see how nicely she has filled out over the years.
And no surprise that she thinks I would kill a chicken.
But it is a big damn surprise to see her driving up the gravel drive to my house right now. Behind the wheel of her daddy’s truck. She’s got no business coming this far up the mountain and turning up at my property.
I watch as she jumps out of the truck. She may be cute, but she won’t be getting any friendly greetings from me.
Though I do note that I can see the outline of her bra through the thin t-shirt she wears.
And that she looks better without the store apron she was wearing yesterday. Better to admire her curves without it.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to check on Ms. Bubbleworth.”
“What?” I’m seriously confused. There is nobody up here but me.
“It’s the chicken’s name.”
“Oh.” I give her my best hard glare. A look that has seen grown men turn and run. But Willow just puts her shoulders back, hands on her hips and glares right back at me. Her courage is to be admired. The look on her face is down right adorable.
I feel a little crack in my resistance. Willow Brookes is not the enemy. My oldest brother Thorne, newly in love and happy, keeps telling me that I need to let people in.
“You can’t go in hot. Be open to getting to know people. Let someone in. You don’t know, they could surprise you.” The words of a man who once swore he didn’t need anyone. And now Thorne is even helping our cousins to organize town events.
I try a smile. Even holding my hands up to show Willow I don’t want to fight. “The chicken is fine. She’s over here if you want to see for yourself?”