Dallas
Chapter Two
“Bro, how long have you been in here?” Archer poked his head into the office that we shared. He never came in here. He got recipes and other info straight from his phone.
I poured over the numbers. Always looking for holes in our finances. Ways to save more. Expenses that should be clipped.
Trauma from all the times of want as a kid, I supposed. Not only did I check the accounts every morning, like clockwork, but sometimes, like today, I knew expenses were coming through the bank and so I had to check my numbers. Over and over.
We’d done well for ourselves since coming out of the group home. We worked hard and saved a ton for us and a good nest egg for our omega. Whenever we found her, we wanted to have enough to provide for her.
Our financials kept me up in the middle of the night and made me shoot up in bed with the cold sweats.
What if we ran short?
“Just a few minutes. I stopped by to check before I take a shower. Dinner smells good.”
Archer came over and sat on the chair next to mine. “We have plenty, Dallas. I know you worry, but we’re all good.”
I pushed the chair back. “I cleaned out all six coops today. As soon as I shower, I’m going to get those eggs into the incubator. The chicks should do well at the market.”
We owned a shop on the edge of town. It was small and had random things, but mostly we sold my carvings there, along with eggs, chicks, and Archer’s baked goods and other homemade things. Also random resale items we bought online or at garage sales. A hodgepodge of a place but it worked.
“They always do. Dinner is done, and Justice is due to be here…” The crunch of truck tires on gravel interrupted him.
Justice was a creature of habit in more ways than one, on time, every time.
Someone we could really count on, even as kids.
He had gone into town for a supply run and returned in two hours, on the dot.
When Justice arrived at our group home, I was being bullied on a daily basis. Tall but lanky, I hadn’t come into my shifter strength yet. Latent until I turned sixteen, I didn’t have my bear to rely on back then. Justice had our backs. I could set my watch to him. If I’d had one.
“I’ll be down in a few. Whatever you have cooking smells amazing, as usual.”
Archer knew me too well. He and Justice were my bond brothers, and this sleuth had known each other for decades.
One hot shower later, I threw on a pair of jogging pants and padded downstairs. Justice sat at the table, a five-minute-shower man, whereas I took my time. I let the day go under the steaming water. Most of the day, anyway.
Justice showered when coming in from anywhere, a bit of a clean freak. From outside. Town. Anywhere.
I sat across from Justice, and he gave me a grunt. That was like a hug from most other people. “What did you make for us, Archer?”
He served us family style. Always had, coming from a home with food scarcity. We all did, but he had gone days, sometimes a week without a proper meal. He took our pantry and cooking meals as seriously as I did the accounting.
Justice? He took everything seriously.
“Chicken pot pie with a biscuit topping. Pea salad.”
We served up our plates and ate with gusto.
A fantastic cook, Archer kept us all well fed.
He also did our chores when we were busy working and kept this place running.
He expressed upset being the house brother, but he contributed.
A lot went into running our house, and I couldn’t remember the last time we ate in a restaurant or even ordered fast food.
He did everything around here, things that kept our house peaceful.
Plus, he made goodies for me to sell at the shop.
His special mint-chocolate-chunk brownies and his cinnamon swirl bread were big hits.
There was a lot of work that went into keeping us three bears running.
“This was great,” I said, putting my plate into the sink first. I’d worked at the shop most of the day selling our eggs and baked goods and my wood carvings, but now, the real work began.
I had three dozen eggs in the incubator, and I was hoping our Lavender and Chocolate Silkies produced pretty chicks.
They did well at the shop. We hated to sell our babies, but it was how we made money.
Besides, Silkies were treated like princesses and weren’t egg layers as much as other varieties.
“Thanks, Arch.” They were show chickens.
“Dishes are on me tonight.” Justice got up and started the hot water before Archer finished eating.
Our routine worked for us, but something huge was missing from our lives. Bears were singular creatures for the most part, and we respected that about each other but bonded because our bears knew that one day, we would share an omega.
The key missing from our life and our home.
But we couldn’t find her. We’d tried everything. Invested in apps. Went into the neighboring towns looking. Visited bars we had no business at other than finding our mate.
We explored every option until Archer threw up his hands one day and said, “If Fate wants us to find her, then we will.”
He took the “not finding our omega” the hardest. The man had a soft heart and that was what made him the glue of this sleuth, but exhausting the ways of finding our mate wore on that squishy heart and tore him down emotionally.
Giving up hurt less than searching and finding nothing.
“Wait! There’s dessert.” Archer’s shoulders slumped once we realized we were already up and busy with other things. “Well, maybe later. It’s a delicious apple strudel, in case anyone gives a shit.”
I stopped dead in my tracks, and Justice turned off the water.
“I’ll be back once I’m done loading the incubators. I promise.” I waited for Archer to nod before going back to walking.
“Me too. Just getting a jump on the dishes, brother.”
Archer smiled. The youngest of us, we’d taken care of him since the day he arrived at the group home. A skinny mouse of a thing back then. Not so much now. He did a ton of work with the farm, the heart of this place.
“Okay. Thanks, guys.”