Chapter 1 #3
“Do you ever wish that Mother hadn’t told us about our biological parents before she passed away?” Knox asked.
Tripp shook his head. “Nope. Now I know that there’s no need to go looking for my father or the mama that birthed me, I’m just glad we had such good folks like Jolene and John Callahan to raise us. I missed Dad when he went a couple of years ago, but I miss Mother even more.”
“Me, too, but I’m so glad we had that last year with her,” Brodie whispered as he made a turned south on a paved road and headed south toward Nocona. “And I’m really glad that y’all came with me up to this area. I can’t imagine going through this without you.”
“We needed a change after Mother’s illness and death,” Knox said. “And I can build houses anywhere.”
“Same for me. I can put in a leather shop anywhere,” Tripp agreed. “But first, I’ll have to build one, since there isn’t a lot of empty buildings in Spanish Fort for sale.”
“You can amend that to no businesses for sale,” Brodie said.
Silence filled the cab of the truck for the next fifteen minutes as Brodie drove to Nocona. He figured his brothers were finally feeling the full impact of what just happened. Like them, he tried to work his mind around such an abrupt change in their lives, but it was an impossible task.
They had grown up in the biggest house in the small town of Bandera, Texas, but their mother would never let them be entitled.
She made sure they understood the value of hard work.
After graduation, Brodie went into the army.
Knox moved out after he finished high school to work for a construction company.
Tripp went to college and moved into his own apartment afterward.
For the first time in more than a decade, the three were living together in a small three-bedroom house with only one bathroom.
Now it was gone, and they were moving back into a big house—the Paradise.
He turned on Highway 82, passed the Dairy Queen on the left, and then drove a few more blocks to the Dollar General Store.
“We’ll go to the Western wear place and buy a couple of changes of jeans and some shirts after we get done in here,” he said.
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Knox said and slapped the console between him and Brodie. “My favorite travel luggage is gone! We’re going to look like hobos carrying our things into the Paradise in plastic bags.”
“I don’t imagine Joe Clay or any of the family will kick us out if we aren’t carrying expensive suitcases,” Tripp smarted off. “But I do hope someone who has the same initials as yours finds your monogrammed suitcases.”
“They are probably floating in the Red River,” Knox groaned.
“The turtles can crawl up on them and use them like rocks to sun themselves,” Brodie said. “We are alive. We are breathing. We aren’t dead. Suitcases, houses, even three thick, juicy steaks, do not matter right now.” He snagged a parking spot not far from the store.
All three guys got out of the truck at the same time, slammed the doors shut, and headed across the parking lot like three cowboys facing off with the fellers in the black hats in an old Western shoot-out.
We are Texans, born and raised, but not a one of us is a real cowboy, Brodie thought and then looked up to see all of their reflections in the glass storefront.
They were slightly out of focus, but it was evident that he towered above them.
They had both stopped growing at five feet ten inches.
Brodie had kept shooting up until he was well over six feet.
His brothers didn’t look or act anything alike even though they were twins.
Tripp, the quieter one, had close-cut jet-black hair and deep brown eyes.
He was a little thinner than Knox, who had a crop of blond hair that he pulled back into a short ponytail and crystal-clear blue eyes.
Before she died after a long battle with cancer, his mother had said that they were her sunshine and storm cloud boys.
“What are you thinking about?” Tripp asked.
“I was just looking at our reflections in the store window,” Brodie answered.
“I figured you were about to turn tail and run,” Knox said.
“Why would I do that?” Brodie asked. “I’m not too proud to shop at a dollar store.”
Tripp chuckled and held the door open for his two brothers. “Because of who’s standing over there by the checkout counter.”
Brodie closed his eyes, hoping that maybe—just maybe—the woman standing at the checkout counter was not Audrey Tucker, but when he opened them, she was still standing there.
“The Ides of March strikes again,” Brodie muttered.
“Yep, and I don’t know which storm is the worst,” Knox agreed.
Audrey picked up a small bag, turned around to leave, and locked eyes with Brodie.
She marched toward him like a soldier on a mission.
The sack in her hands swung back and forth like it had a temper of its own that was about to be unleashed upon none other than Brodie Callahan.
He could see the top of a bottle of bleach through the thin plastic and hoped that she didn’t start swinging it toward his head—or worse yet, lower down on his body.
She didn’t stop until she was so close that he got a whiff of her long, dark hair. Coconut with something that reminded him of white sand, hot sun, and cool ocean water. He couldn’t tell if her brown eyes were filled with humor or sympathy when she stood toe-to-toe with him.
“I drove past y’all’s place. Looks like the tornado wiped out your house,” she said.
“It did,” Brodie said. “I noticed that your place is still standing.”
“It tore up the corner of my cornfield and blew some debris around. Evidently, the Universe is trying to tell you something.” The coldness in her tone and her expression let him know that she had zero sympathy.
“How do you figure that?” Brodie snapped back. “We are all three alive. I’d say that’s a blessing from the Universe.”
“Tornadoes are an act of God,” she whispered and pointed toward the ceiling. “The Almighty is telling you that you Callahans don’t belong in my part of Texas. He is saying that you need to sell your land to me and go somewhere else with your stupid ideas about organic farming.”
“I’m so glad you’ve got a hotline to heaven and that God speaks to you.
He hasn’t told me to sell my land, but if and when He does, I can guarantee you that I will not sell it to you.
Besides your Uncle Ira didn’t think organic farming was stupid, did he?
From what I see in his books, he made a really good living at it.
” Brodie’s eyes locked on her full mouth.
She might be the devil’s sister, but those lips were made for kissing.
Audrey glared at him. “It doesn’t take a genius to read the signs. Why won’t you sell to me?”
“Because you are bossy, hateful, and downright mean,” Brodie answered. “Why would you want an organic farm anyway? To turn it into a chemically fertilized mess?”
“Your place and mine used to be one farm. I want to reunite the family land,” she answered through clenched teeth. “And yes, I would quit the organic crap because I think it’s a stupid way to farm.”
“Why are you so set on making the two places one?” Brodie asked with a smile that he knew would make her even more angry.
“My grandfather Frank and Ira were brothers. Because of a woman they both loved they split up their farm.” She seemed to remember who she was talking to. “It’s really none of your business.”
“Sounds like the makings of one of those television movies that chicks watch,” Brodie said. “I bought the place from your cousin, and I’m not selling it. But thanks for the history lesson.”
“Where are you staying until you can rebuild—if that’s what you have in mind?” Audrey asked.
Brodie glanced around and saw that both his brothers had left him on his own. “We are staying at the Paradise, but we’ll be on the farm every day. So, don’t be getting any of those nasty pesticides that you use on my trees and gardens.”
She used a forefinger to poke him in the chest. “I guess you have to be screwed, glued, and crying like a baby before you’ll sell to me. What’s it going to take before you wake up and figure out that organic farming is—”
Brodie picked up her finger, ignored the sparks between them, and dropped it like it was a piece of trash. “Are you blind, or do you just ignore the rows and rows of produce in most grocery stores that have an ‘organically grown’ sticker on them?”
“It’s a phase and won’t last, and besides, it’s too expensive,” she snapped and took a step back.
“You have a good time cleaning up your mess, and remember, you can always hop over the barbed-wire fence separating our places and come over to my house. I have a very generous contract all signed and ready for your signature. I won’t even lower the price because there’s no house on the property anymore.
Matter of fact, I’d planned on tearing it down anyway. ”
“I will never put my name on that paper,” Brodie declared, grabbed a cart, and walked away.
“What if your new place burns down?” Audrey called out.
He stopped and turned around. “Then I guess I’ll collect the insurance and build it again after I have you investigated for arson.”
She stomped her foot on the floor. “You are as stubborn as a cross-eyed mule.”
“That would be the pot calling the kettle black,” Brodie said with a wide grin.
Audrey shot a look toward him that was probably meant to melt him into a puddle right there in front of the generic aspirin, but he just chuckled.
She stormed outside mumbling about men. Too bad the door to the place didn’t slam or she would have rocked the whole store.
Her attitude and the way she stomped reminded Brodie of the tornado that swept his house away—but his feet were still firmly planted on the tile floor.
Tripp peeked out from behind a stack of men’s sweatpants and grinned. “I’m glad I don’t own the farm.”
“Some brothers you and Knox are, leaving me to deal with her alone,” he grumbled as he moved on down the aisle and tossed a toothbrush and deodorant into his cart.
Tripp pushed his full cart toward Brodie. “I’d rather deal with another tornado as with that bag of pure meanness. She is meaner than a whole den of Texas rattlesnakes.”
Knox came from the end of another aisle and put a tube of toothpaste in his cart. “I’d say she’s meaner than a class five tornado.”
“Combine them and you might have her down to rights,” Brodie growled. “We’ve got to be at the Paradise by supper, so y’all better forget about Audrey Tucker and get busy.”
“Hard to forget something that caused enough sparks to set this store on fire,” Knox teased. “If she wasn’t the enemy, I’d say that there is chemistry between you two.”
“Bad sparks, not good ones, and the electricity you saw was anger, not attraction.” Brodie continued to fill his cart with toiletries and changed the subject. “They don’t have my shaving lotion, so I’m going to grow a beard.”
Knox made his way slowly down the aisle, tossing in several more items. “Not me. I’ll use the cheaper stuff until we can get to the mall in Wichita Falls. I’m afraid Audrey might like beards and go after me to get to you.”
“Hand me a bottle of that stuff you are getting,” Brodie barked. “It’ll do until I can go to the mall.”
“Smart choice,” Tripp said. “Can you believe we are going to live in an old brothel? Mother would think that was a hoot.”
“It’s just until we figure out what we’re going to do,” Brodie reminded him, “but I agree with you. Mother wouldn’t only be glad that we have a place to live but that we have found a big family.”
“It’d be a safe place for you to hide from Audrey. All the sisters will gang up on her if she even sets foot on the property. But the flip side is that Aunt Bernie is going to continue to fix you up with dates. How many are you up to now?” Tripp asked.
Brodie groaned and held up five fingers.
“She sets them up, and our brother here knocks them down. He’s turning into the heartbreaker of Montague County,” Knox said.
“Yeah, right. One date with each woman does not a heartbreaker make,” Brodie declared.