Sisters in Paradise

Chapter 1

Bossy. Nosy. Sassy.

Look up any one of those words in a dictionary or on the internet, and Ophelia Simmons was sure that her great-aunt Mary Bernadette’s picture would be right there beside the word.

Aunt Bernie, as everyone called her, was pint-sized, but was living proof that dynamite came in small packages, and it didn’t take old age settling in for her to speak whatever was on her mind. She had owned a bar in Oklahoma for more than sixty years, and everyone who came into Bernie’s Place had to follow the rules posted on the wall right above the bar or else she would toss them out on their ear—or a lower part of their anatomy if need be. Rumor had it that she had taken her sawed-off shotgun from under the bar and fired it on more than one occasion to settle rule number one—no fighting in Bernie’s Place—and that the holes in the ceiling testified that she was serious.

“I told you so.” Bernie smiled as she slid into the passenger seat of Ophelia’s pickup truck and fastened the seat belt that Thursday morning.

Ophelia grabbed a pair of sunglasses from the console and put them on. “You told me so about what?”

“Remember back at Christmas when I said that Ursula and Luna would be married before summer was over? Well, my prophecy is coming true,” Bernie answered. “I’ve worked my magic on those two, and now it’s time for me to go to use my powers on you and your sister. Tertia should be home tomorrow, and my new prediction is that I’ll have both of you in serious relationships in no time.”

“Hey, now!” Ophelia started the engine and drove down the lane to the highway. “Luna was already secretly dating Shane when you moved here, so you can’t take credit for that.”

Bernie crossed her arms over her chest. “You can think whatever you want. I know that it was my meddling that put Ursula and Luna right where they are today, and I do not intend to stop working my magic until I’m either dead or else have all you girls back here in Spanish Fort. Nope, that’s not right. Not just here in town but settled down and either in a serious relationship or married. The Universe has told me that is why I’m here, and I don’t argue with the Universe or doubt anything that it says.”

“Why?” Ophelia was not worried about her aunt Bernie dying any time soon. Heaven was not ready for the likes of her, and the devil didn’t want her for fear she would try to take over his domain and shove him out for good.

“Why am I not dead? Or why am I determined to get all seven of you sisters settled?” Bernie asked.

“The latter one,” Ophelia answered.

“I owe your mama that much,” Bernie said. “My sister gave her my name, and then she gave you the same. Mary Bernadette.” She poked a finger toward her heart. “Mary Jane,” she said as she glanced in the side rearview mirror back at the Paradise, and then pointed across the console at Ophelia. “Mary Ophelia, so y’all are special to me. Plus, she has taken me in and lets me be a part of her family. I didn’t know what I would do after I sold my bar, but your mama invited me to come on down to Spanish Fort and live with her. I thought about it a few days and decided I didn’t want to be a burden.” She stopped for a breath.

“You are not a burden,” Ophelia argued.

“Thank you, darlin’, but I was thinking about the day that all you girls came home and wanted your own rooms again, and besides I’m no spring chicken. Those stairs would have killed me when I got older. So, I bought my travel trailer and moved into the backyard.”

Ophelia had heard the story before, just like so many more that Aunt Bernie told and retold. “I’m glad you’re here, but now that Ursula is married, you could move into the house.”

“Pepper likes his privacy, and so do I.” Bernie dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand. “Mary Jane wants all you girls to settle down close enough to her that she can be a part of your lives. I know what it’s like not to have family around me, and I like being here in among all y’all. Pepper and I plan to be here until we die.”

“You’ve got…” Ophelia started.

Bernie waggled her finger at her niece and shot a dirty look across the console. “I know I have other relatives. There’s your grandmother, who is my sister, and my two other grandnieces, but Mary Jane has never been ashamed of me for running a bar, or for who I am. She loves me and all you girls unconditionally. That, darlin’, is the difference between relatives and family.”

“Why are you determined that Tertia and I are your next projects?” Ophelia asked.

“You will both be here. It’s not so easy to work on Bo and Rae when one of them is in the Oklahoma Panhandle and the other one is in Nashville, but they’ll both come home soon,” Bernie answered. “First, I’ll fix you and Tertia up, and then it will be Bo and Rae’s turn. I have been communing with the Universe about them, and I know I’m getting through to it because Ursula is getting married this weekend in a little family ceremony, and Luna is having a big blowout the first Saturday in July. So, get ready for the ride, darlin’, because you and Tertia are next.”

Ophelia started to say something, then realized the turn to the winery was right in front of her. She braked hard enough to make Aunt Bernie use cuss words that could have cracked the front windshield. Gravel flew up around them, and the multitude of birds that had been sitting on the barbed-wire fence took to the sky in a blur. If Ophelia had been fluent in bird squawking, she was fairly sure that their swear words would have rivaled Aunt Bernie’s.

“That sign should be bigger,” she gasped.

Bernie laid a hand on her heart. “Girl, you about gave me a heart attack. The deal I made with the Universe is that I would not die until I accomplish my mission for your mama. If you kill me before that time comes, then you’re going to be in for a helluva lot of bad luck.”

“Sorry about that.” Ophelia said, “but you’re going to be around forever if you think you’re going to get all of us seven girls to come back to Spanish Fort.”

“My petition is that you will all live in this county at the very least. I’m not asking for magic, just a little miracle or two,” she said, “and I hope I do live for a few more years after this all comes to pass, so I can see Mary Jane’s grandbabies at the Paradise. That way I can be in one of those generation pictures. When the baby is born, your grandma can come visit Spanish Fort. Her mother, my twin sister, the good one of the two of us, passed away before you were born, so I’ll stand in for her.”

Ophelia turned right at the sign pointing her back to the winery. “That’s sweet, but I think I’ll drag my feet in this relationship business just so you’ll stay around for many more years. Maybe I’ll even be the last one to get married and settle down.”

“That’s not playing fair,” Bernie declared. “And besides you are thirty-one years old. Your biological clock has already started ticking.” Bernie cocked her head to one side. “I do believe I can hear it clicking off the seconds.”

“‘All’s fair in love and war,’” Ophelia reminded her as she parked in front of the winery.

Bernie shook her bony index finger across the console at Ophelia for the second time that morning. “Yes, it is, and I don’t lose in either one.”

Ophelia motioned toward the building in front of them and changed the subject. “This is not what I expected.”

“Seems like an omen to me,” Bernie pointed at the sign in the window that says brENNAN WINERY in a flourishing script with shamrocks and bunches of grapes circling around the lettering. “That looks downright romantic, doesn’t it?”

“A sign doesn’t mean anything,” Ophelia argued.

“It does today,” Bernie argued as she unfastened her seat belt, opened the door, and got out of the truck.

Another word that could be added to Bernie’s long list was spry. The septuagenarian was halfway across the parking lot when Ophelia caught up with her. “We don’t have to jog, Aunt Bernie,” she said.

“I’m in a hurry to take a look inside, so either keep up or go wait in the truck…” She stopped and nodded toward a sign tacked up beside the door that said HELP WANTED in big bold letters, and under that in smaller type was: Must apply in person. No online applications. Full-time work with benefits.

Ophelia hustled to catch up to her aunt, but then Bernie stopped dead in her tracks and pointed to the sign.

“There’s your answer to what you are going to do now that school is out,” she said. “I just found you a job. You’ve been moanin’ around about not wanting to go back to substitute teaching. Well, now you don’t have to do that anymore. You can make wine. That sounds like a better deal to me, anyway.”

“I don’t know one thing about making wine,” Ophelia declared.

Granted, she was so tired of running all over Montague County to work as a substitute teacher that she had actually considered reenlisting in the air force. Her captain had told her when she left last December that there would always be a place for her if she wanted to come back and fly drones or even teach a few classes in that area.

Bernie opened the door and marched inside. “You ain’t dumb. You can learn.”

Various kinds of wine filled small cubicles that covered one entire wall. A lovely brass tray with small bottles of wine sat on a round table in the middle of the room. Ophelia had visited more than a dozen wineries while stationed in California, and most of them were laid out just like this one. She wasn’t a wine connoisseur by any means, but she did know the difference between a good red wine and a bad one. But if she was buying wine, she could pop into a convenience store and get a bottle of Boone’s Farm Strawberry Hill for less than five bucks.

The bell above the door must have been hooked up to something in the back, because she and Bernie had only been inside a couple of minutes when a man entered the room from the back. His curly blond hair touched his shirt collar, and mossy-green eyes rimmed with thick lashes twinkled behind his round wire-rimmed glasses.

“Good mornin’.” His deep Texas drawl was downright swoon-worthy. “I’m Jake Brennan, the owner of this little winery. What can I do for you lovely ladies?”

“I’m Bernie Marsh, and this is my niece, Ophelia Simmons. We’re here to check on the reception hall for the Baxters on Saturday”—she paused and threw a glance over at Ophelia—“and to apply for the job you’ve got listed on the window.”

“I’m proud to make your acquaintance, and I would love to talk to you about the job,” Jake said.

“Do you let mean little Chihuahua dogs in your place of business?” Ophelia asked.

“I’m sorry, but no pets are allowed,” Jake answered. “I’ve seen Remy’s dogs and neither of them are Chihuahuas. Have they gotten another one and want to bring it to the reception? If that’s the case, I can refund their deposit.”

“I’m not talking about Remy and Ursula’s dogs, but Aunt Bernie”—Ophelia glanced over at her aunt—“must be interested in the job you have posted on the window since she asked about it. However, she has a yappy little dog that barks at everything from the wind shaking leaves in a tree to crickets, and she would never leave Pepper alone all day.”

Bernie narrowed her eyes and shot a dirty look toward Ophelia. “Pepper isn’t mean or yappy. He’s just little, and he has to take up for himself against those ornery cats at the Paradise. And besides, he wouldn’t be coming to work with you.”

“Well, I’m very sorry, Miz Bernie, but we have a strict rule about animals in a winery.” Jake chuckled. “Do you have a pet that would keep you from applying for the job, Miz Ophelia?”

With his accent, Ophelia could have listened to Jake read Moby Dick without getting bored. She glanced across the counter and locked eyes with him. “I do not have an animal, but…” She hesitated. “I don’t know anything about wine.”

“Remy told me about Ursula’s sisters. You are the one who spent a while in the air force and flew drones. Is that right?” Jake asked.

“It is,” Bernie answered with a smug expression, “but since there’s not much in this part of the world for her job skills, she’s been substitute teaching all over the county since she came home last Christmas.”

Jake tilted his head to one side and locked gazes with Ophelia. “Well, now, I expect if you can corral a bunch of kids, you wouldn’t have any trouble at all waiting on customers. They’ll probably flock in here just to see someone as beautiful as you are and, honey, if you can fly drones, you can learn the art of a cash register.”

The heat of a scalding blush filled Ophelia’s cheeks. This was the very last time she would go anywhere with her aunt, and she would warn Tertia of Bernie’s plans as soon as they got back to the Paradise. “Thank you for the compliments,” she muttered.

“She would be good at it,” Bernie said, “and working here would be a perfect job for her.”

Jake didn’t take his eyes off Ophelia. “I can’t believe that Remy hasn’t introduced us. He mentioned that Ursula was one of seven sisters who grew up in the old brothel up the road from this place. Is that right?” Jake asked.

“Yes, it is,” Ophelia answered.

“I’ve met Ursula,” Jake said. “Do all the rest of the sisters have red hair?”

“Nope, just this one,” Bernie answered.

“I’m standing right here.” Ophelia’s tone held an edge even in her own ears.

“Then open your mouth and talk to this handsome feller about the wonderful job he’s offering you,” Bernie scolded.

“Like I said, I don’t know anything about making wine,” Ophelia said.

“I’ve got three hired hands who help me with the wine making,” Jake said. “What I need is someone to work up here in the front. Sell wine, host a few wine tastings a month, help with a small event when someone books the venue”—he nodded toward the room off to the left—“in that area where Remy and Ursula’s reception will be held.”

Bernie elbowed Ophelia.

“What are the hours?” Ophelia asked more to appease her aunt than to seriously think about the job.

“We are open Tuesday through Saturday from eleven to six. Closed on Sunday and Monday unless there is an event like a wedding. You will get an idea of what that entails tomorrow evening at your sister’s party,” he answered. “If you will consider the job, I’ll remove the sign from the window. All you have to do is fill out some tax forms and show up Tuesday morning.”

“Just like that”—Ophelia snapped her fingers—“you would hire me because I have red hair?”

“No, I would hire you because Remy has told me all about you and your sisters, and because anyone smart enough to fly drones would be an asset to my business,” Jake answered. “And if you hadn’t come around today to look at the reception room, I would have singled you out at the reception and talked to you about the job.”

“Then why do you have a notice in the window?” Ophelia asked.

“I’ll take applications, but…” he shrugged.

“But what?” Bernie pressured.

“The job is Ophelia’s if she wants it,” he answered.

Had the man fallen into one of his vats of wine? He knew nothing except what Remy had told him about her, and just because she could look at a computer screen and fly a drone did not mean she would be a good salesperson. Other than teaching a couple of basic drone-flying courses for the military, she had worked in a cubicle for years and only talked to one or two other people all night or all day, depending on her shift. She had no idea how she would even like working with people in a permanent job.

You grew up in a household with seven girls. You can be sociable,the niggling voice in her head scolded. You need a job, or else you will be spending the whole summer listening to Luna fret about wedding plans or spending every waking hour with Bernie. Your choice, but don’t whine if you make the wrong one.

“I’ll think about it,” Ophelia finally said.

“Fair enough,” Jake said as he headed over to open double doors for them into a room that was already set up with tables. “This is the event room.”

“How do you know Remy?” Bernie asked as she followed him.

“Met him when he came in last Christmas to buy some wine. He found out that I had some acreage next to his place.” Jake stood to the side to let them enter first. “I just recently leased it to him so he can grow hay on it for his cattle. He invited me to attend the reception, but I will be working it since I don’t have any help—yet,” he said with a long sigh and a sly wink toward Ophelia. “I haven’t had much of a social life since I opened the doors to the winery, so even though I’ll be working, I’m looking forward to being there. Maybe you’ll save the last dance for me?”

“If she don’t, I will,” Bernie said, “but I’m betting she’ll say yes.”

“Aunt Bernie!” Ophelia scolded.

Bernie poked her on the arm. “Then tell this sexy guy that you will dance with him.”

“Okay, okay,” Ophelia agreed. “I will save a dance for you.”

Jake’s smile lit up the room. “Thank you, ma’am. And just so you know, I’ll take that help wanted sign down until next Tuesday.”

“Why next Tuesday?” Bernie asked.

Jake followed behind her. “Ophelia needs time to mull my offer over. If she shows up Tuesday morning, or before, I’ll show her the ropes. If she doesn’t, I can put the sign back up. It’s not a problem since we’re closed on Sunday and Monday anyway.”

“Thank you, sir,” Bernie said.

“Not sir. Just plain old Jake,” he said.

Ophelia’s shoulder brushed against his as she passed by him. No way would she admit that she’d felt some vibes at his touch. If she did, Aunt Bernie would pile wedding books up outside Ophelia’s bedroom door.

She touched her arm to see if it was as warm as it felt, but it was cool. “This is a lovely room.”

“Thank you.” Jake nodded. “The stage can be used for a live band or a DJ. Remy said that one of the sisters has a playlist ready for the evening and will be taking care of the music.”

“Bo will be doing that,” Bernie explained.

Jake stood just inside the door. “She’s the one who’s been in Nashville, right?”

“That’s right.” Ophelia’s voice sounded slightly higher than normal, and goose bumps the size of the Wichita Mountains were still raised up on her arm. Remy must have been talking about the sisters a lot for Jake to know their names and what they did for a living.

“We have some generic centerpieces, if you want to use them,” he went on. “Either yellow or red silk roses in bud vases.”

“We’ll be bringing our own, maybe this afternoon so that tomorrow won’t be so rushed,” Ophelia said, “but thanks for the offer.”

“Well, I’m very pleased with this place,” Bernie said, “and I’m glad Remy thought of it. The reception here will be great. I still think Mary Jane would have liked for her oldest daughter to have a big wedding, but Ursula did it the way she wanted and went to the courthouse a couple of weeks ago.”

“Ursula would never steal Luna’s thunder,” Ophelia said.

“Ain’t that the truth,” Bernie agreed. “If she did, Luna would never forgive her, and heaven forbid that they would have a double wedding.”

She shot a look over toward Ophelia and mouthed, “Tick tock.”

Ophelia ignored her. “Remy’s mama, Vera, isn’t comfortable in big crowds, so this is perfect.”

“Y’all take your time. There’s water bottles in the refrigerator through that door over there,” Jake said as he started out of the room. “That bell is my cue to wait on a customer. Y’all look around all you want, and you are welcome to bring those centerpieces anytime today. The winery is open until five, but if you need to arrive later, I’ll stick around after hours.”

“Thank you,” Ophelia called out as he hurried past her, and would be hanged if his arm didn’t brush against hers again.

“You are very welcome.” Jake threw over his shoulder.

“Well?” Bernie asked.

“What?” Ophelia answered.

“Are you at least going to think about the job?”

Ophelia wandered around the room, taking it all in. “I am, but not right now. This is Ursula and Remy’s time to be in the spotlight, and I’ve got until Tuesday morning. I don’t want to rush and make the wrong decision. This really is a lovely place for a reception, isn’t it? The centerpieces we’ve made for the middle of the tables are going to look so pretty.”

“And that stage is perfect for Ursula and Remy’s first dance. I wonder what song they’ve chosen. What is going to be yours when you get married?” Bernie asked with a smug little smile on her wrinkled face.

“I’ll play it for you on the way home,” Ophelia answered.

“So, you have given it some thought?” Bernie asked.

“Maybe a smidgen. Are you ready to go?”

“Oh, yeah!” Bernie seemed to be so excited that she had a toe in the matrimony door that she almost skipped out of the room.

Jake waved at them from behind the counter as they slipped out into the bright sunlight. Aunt Bernie hummed all the way to the truck and did not say a word even after she had fastened her seat belt. Ophelia started the engine, backed the truck up, and headed down the dirt road.

“You are welcome, and now you can play your wedding song,” Bernie finally said with a hint of a giggle.

“I’m welcome for what?” Ophelia asked.

“I overheard Remy telling Ursula about Jake needing help, so I asked Mary Jane to let us go look at the room today. I told you that I would help you find a man like Remy, and I just did, and honey, a stone-cold blind woman could see and feel the sparks that were hoppin’ around between you two. They reminded me of Pepper when he wants a treat.” Bernie giggled. “So, you are welcome that I helped you get a job, plus a new boyfriend. I’m getting good at this!”

“I only just met the man, and I damn sure don’t believe in love at first sight. And like I said, you can’t take credit for Ursula or for Luna,” Ophelia argued.

“If I can’t cuss, then you can’t,” Bernie snapped.

“I don’t suppose you put a shot of Jameson in your morning coffee?” Ophelia fired right back.

“All right,” Bernie crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Ophelia. “I won’t tattle if you won’t. Now play me the damn song. And for your information, Mary Ophelia, I gave Ursula a little push, and I shared my whiskey with Luna when she and Shane had their first big fight, so I do get to take credit for them.” She stopped and sucked in a lungful of air. “So, put that in your pipe and smoke it. You ain’t takin’ my glory away from me.”

“Push, nothing,” Ophelia almost snorted, “you gave her a shove, but she and Remy just reignited a twenty-year-old crush, so it wasn’t all your doing.”

Bernie shook a finger across the console at Ophelia. “Don’t argue with me. You’ll see soon enough that I have relationship powers. Who do you think gave Remy and Ursula the matches to light that fire between them? And honey, I’ve got five more matches reserved for the rest of you girls, so stand back and watch me. I told you before, and I’ll tell you again, and again, I know men. I ran the bar for decades, and I can spot a worthless SOB or a good man a mile away.”

“Oh, really?” Ophelia raised an eyebrow. “So, Remy and Shane are good men.”

“They’re alive aren’t they?” Bernie asked, “Any sumbitch—and cuss words said in this vehicle stays in this vehicle—who treats any of you sisters wrong will be dead men, because no one is ever going to hurt one of you again. That sorry sucker who caused Endora so much pain is lucky—for today anyway. I may still take care of him for what he did to her self-confidence. And since Martin is your biological father, I won’t even say what I think of him, but he’s lucky that he’s not sitting on a barbed-wire fence in hell.”

“Aunt Bernie!” Ophelia scolded.

“Don’t you ‘Aunt Bernie’ me. I speak my mind whether folks like it or not,” Bernie told her. “But for now, Martin and Kevin are safe because I have to take care of my precious little Pepper, but if he dies before I do, I don’t mind spending the rest of my days in jail. You girls can all come to visit me there every Sunday and sneak bottles of whiskey in for me. That’s saying that I get caught, which ain’t damn likely. I know places up around Ratliff City where I can dump trash like Kevin and Krystal both for treating Endora the way they did.” She leaned over the console and whispered, “And dead bodies, so that they won’t ever be found, and it’s really hard to prove murder without a body. Now play me that song.”

Ophelia laid her phone to the side and pressed an icon to start her playlist. The guitar prelude started, and Bernie frowned. “You wouldn’t dare play ‘Smell Like Smoke’! That song talks about whiskey, and your mama would have a fit if…”

“If”—Ophelia butted in—“the words talk about getting drunk and sayin’ that I’m not ashamed of where I come from—and that would be that I grew up in a former brothel. I may even come down the aisle to that song if you meddle in my romantic business.”

She turned left into the pecan-tree-lined lane that led up to the Paradise.

“If you do, I will stand up on the front pew where I’ll be sitting and dance to the song while you are strolling down the aisle,” Bernie declared. “God knows it’s more my song than yours anyway.”

Ophelia was trying to think of a comeback for that when she parked her truck in front of the Paradise.

“You ain’t got nothing else to say?” Bernie asked.

“Not about my wedding song, but…” Ophelia said, “if you want to exact a little vengeance upon Kevin for cheating with Krystal when he was engaged to Endora, I’ll buy a drone and take care of him. We’ll have an alibi that we were with family two hundred miles away from the scene. If you get caught, I’ll break you out of jail and we’ll hop a plane to some country that won’t send us back.”

“Well, crap!” Bernie said with a long sigh.

“What?” Ophelia asked.

“I can’t let you do that since by then you’ll be married and have a houseful of little kids that have pretty, mossy-green eyes. You’d have to leave them behind, and we could never come back. That would break Jake’s heart as well as Mary Jane’s heart,” Bernie answered with a long sigh. “So, we’ll just have to leave the vengeance to the Universe when it comes to Endora’s old fiancé and her former best friend.”