Chapter 7
Corbin slowed his brand-new dually truck down to thirty miles per hour as soon as he reached the outskirts of Wilder. As a teenager, he’d hated the speed limit. Now he didn’t mind going slow so much. It gave him time to look around.
When he had left town after graduating, he’d thought he would never return. His ego had been badly stung by the Holiday twins and he’d had no desire to see them or the Podunk town ever again. Then Uncle Dan died and shockingly willed him and Sunny his old trailer and the land it sat on—no doubt because he’d felt guilty about his lack of care when Corbin and Sunny had been living with him. Corbin had planned to sell both the trailer and the land. But when he got ready to put them on the real estate market, something had stopped him.
He still wasn’t sure what.
The trailer was a piece of junk and had been even when he and Sunny had lived there. The land was no more than a half acre of weed-infested dirt. He glanced around at the businesses that lined the one-block main street. His reluctance to sell certainly didn’t have anything to do with this town. Wilder was as dull and boring as every other small Texas town.
And yet, there was some invisible thread that held him tethered. He and Sunny had lived in a lot of places and he cared nothing about seeing any of them again. But this town was different. Maybe it had to do with the townsfolk more than the town itself. He hadn’t formed any bonds in the other places they’d lived, but here he’d had to form bonds. Uncle Dan hadn’t been willing to spend any money on the brats living with him so Corbin had been forced to get jobs so Sunny could go to school looking like the other kids.
He’d washed coffee cups and muffin tins at Nothin’ But Muffins. He’d bussed tables at the Hellhole restaurant and bar. He had swept up hair and cleaned sinks at both the barbershop and the salon. He had stocked shelves and waited on customers at Crawley’s General Store. And he had run errands and been a general gopher for the owner of the town bank. At each job, he’d bonded with the owners: Sheryl Ann, Bobby Jay, Deb Haskins, Joe Marshall, Mr. Crawley, and Fiona Stokes.
Especially Mrs. Stokes.
While ornery and opinionated, the old woman had taken him under her wing and taught him as much as Jesse about money and how to make it. She was a little rough around the edges, but that’s what he liked about her. She never pulled punches.
Which was one of the reasons he’d been avoiding her. Every time he saw her around town, he’d gone in the opposite direction. Like the rest of the townsfolk, he figured she wasn’t happy about him foreclosing on the Holiday Ranch. But he couldn’t keep avoiding her forever.
He pulled into a parking space in front of the bank and got out, wincing when his butt muscles protested. After all the riding he’d done the day before, it was an effort to put one foot in front of the other. He now understood how Belle had felt. And Homer hadn’t even tossed him off.
As soon as he stepped inside the bank, he spotted Mrs. Stokes sitting behind her big maple desk in the back corner of the bank. Her hair was still dyed bright red and she still wore business suits that were fifty years outdated. On the coatrack behind her hung her ratty mink stole that she wore around town no matter the temperature outside. She glanced up, and he wasn’t surprised when a stern frown settled over her wrinkled face.
“Well, if it isn’t the town villain, Corbin Whiplash.” She waved him over.
He complied and carefully eased down in the chair in front of her desk, thankful it had plenty of cushion. “Corbin Whiplash?”
“It’s the new nickname the town has given you,” she said. “Although I guess you’re too young to remember the cartoon character Snidely Whiplash. Anyway, he was a villain who was always tying the heroine to train tracks . . . and trying to take her ranch.”
She had taught him not to show any weakness when making business deals so he didn’t apologize. “I didn’t try,” he said dryly. “I succeeded.”
A smile lit her face, showing off her full set of dentures. He knew this because he’d seen them sitting in a glass once when he’d gone over to her big mansion to help her clean out the attic. It had scared the shit out of him. Of course, seeing her without the teeth had scared him even more.
She snorted. “You always were a cocky boy. It looks like you still are. And you’re right. Business is business. If Hank Holiday was dumb enough to let his feud with Sam Remington make him land greedy, than he got what he deserved.” She pulled a cigarette out of a pack sitting on her desk, but she didn’t light it. She just placed it in her mouth and drew in deeply. “That’s men for you. They think with their egos instead of their brains.” She sent him a pointed look.
“Foreclosing on the ranch had nothing to do with my ego,” he said. “Like I said, it was just business.”
And Sunny.
Sunny was already settling into the Holiday Ranch as if she’d lived there all her life. He’d come downstairs that morning to find her in the kitchen with Darla learning how to make cinnamon rolls. Corbin usually didn’t eat breakfast, but the warm cinnamon rolls drenched in icing were too hard to resist. After sneaking one from the tray, he’d headed to his office with Tay in tow. He’d intended to get some work done, but instead he’d been distracted by the view out his window of Sunny and Mimi working side by side in the garden. Later in the afternoon, he’d watched as Hank taught Sunny how to rope.
Uncle Dan had painted Hank Holiday out to be an arrogant asshole. After what the twins had done to him, Corbin had believed him. Now he realized he’d been wrong. Hank was gruff, but he was also a hardworking man who was patient and kind. He never once got frustrated when Sunny missed the fence post. He just readjusted the rope and had her try again.
As Corbin had watched his sister connect with the Holidays, he’d realized that Sunny would miss the Holidays as much as they would miss their ranch. Letting them stay had been a big mistake. But he couldn’t renege now.
A deal was a deal.
“Don’t try to pull the wool over my eyes.” Mrs. Stokes said. “Foreclosing on the Holiday Ranch wasn’t just business and you and I both know it. I had a front-row seat to your infatuation with Liberty Holiday and witnessed with my own two eyes how hurt you were after your date with her.”
Mrs. Stokes was one of the few people Corbin had told about the twin switch. Sunny and Jesse were the other two. His siblings hadn’t thought it was that big a deal. Mrs. Stokes was more sympathetic.
“And I understand why. No one likes being duped.”
Corbin had been duped. Until the date, his infatuation with Liberty had been all about her looks and popularity. During the date, he’d started seeing the real person behind the beautiful homecoming queen fa?ade. A sweet person who seemed to care about his thoughts and feelings.
And maybe that’s what had hurt the most.
Belle hadn’t cared. She’d just been following her sister’s orders.
Mrs. Stokes coughing pulled him from his thoughts. She’d always had a smoker’s cough, but now it sounded much worse. As soon as she stopped coughing, he voiced his concern.
“You need to stop smoking. It’s going to kill you.”
She shrugged. “If not it, something else.”
“Then let it be something else.”
She studied him. “You love to act like you don’t care about anything or anyone, but you care, Corbin Whitlock. You care a lot.”
“Nope, I’m more of the town villain.”
She grinned. “Maybe that’s why I like you so much. I’ve always had a thing for bad boys.”
“I doubt a podiatrist is much of a bad boy.”
“You heard about that, did ya? Well, Jeffrey isn’t my boyfriend anymore. He gave great foot massages, but was boring as hell. He knew absolutely nothing about business. Which leaves me dateless for the Memorial Day picnic this weekend.” Her eyes narrowed. “Unless the town villain would like to escort me and entertain me with how he made his millions?”
He couldn’t help laughing at the woman’s audacity. “I’ll be happy to escort you, but only if you promise not to smoke. You might not care about your lungs, but I care about mine.”
She snorted. “Prissy.”
After Corbin left the bank, he headed back to the ranch. Hank was going to show him how to clean Homer’s hoofs—something he wasn’t looking forward to. But on his way out of town, he passed a car sitting on the opposite side of the road. He cussed when he recognized the face of the woman behind the wheel. From that distance, he wasn’t sure which twin it was, but it didn’t matter. He couldn’t ignore a stranded woman.
Even a Holiday.
He made a U-turn and pulled in behind her, then got out and walked to the driver’s side. She was staring out the windshield and didn’t see him until he was standing at the window. She startled and turned to him.
He recognized Belle immediately. She was crying, and looking into her watery green eyes made him feel like he’d swallowed a grapefruit whole. She quickly looked away and swiped at her eyes before she rolled down the window.
“Hey.” Her voice sounded nasally and unsteady. “I was just . . . taking a phone call and didn’t want to drive and talk.”
Her cellphone was nowhere in sight, but he went along with the lie. “Smart.”
“And my allergies are kicking up.” She grabbed a tissue out of her purse and he noticed her hand shaking.
“Allergies are bad this time of year.” He sighed. “Look. Are you okay?”
She pinned on a fake smile. “I’m fine. Perfectly fine.”
“You sure? I can give you a ride back to the Remingtons’ Ranch if you want. Rome can send someone to pick up your car later.”
“No! I mean I’m not ready to go back yet. I just need . . .” She let the sentence trail off as if she didn’t know how to finish it. So he finished it for her.
“A stiff drink?”
She blinked and a determined look settled over her features. “Yes. As a matter of fact that’s exactly what I need. A stiff drink. Thank you.” Without another word, she put the car into drive and pulled away, leaving him standing on the side of the road in confusion.
He figured he had two choices. He could get back in his truck and mind his own damn business. Or he could follow her and make sure she didn’t take his advice and get into trouble. If she was going where he thought she was going, she could easily get into trouble.
The Hellhole was a family restaurant that served the best barbecue in the county . . . or some said the entire world. It was also a cowboy bar that could get real rowdy later in the night. Luckily, it was still early when Corbin stepped in the door. The spicy scent of smoking meat made his stomach rumble. No one made barbecue like Bobby Jay. But since taking over the Holiday Ranch, Corbin had stayed away from the bar. If the glares he was receiving were any indication, it had been a smart choice.
Too bad Belle had taken that choice from him.
He found her sitting at one end of the bar. He could have taken a seat at a table and kept an eye on her from a distance, but he had never been a covert kind of guy. He took the stool next to her, wincing when his butt hit the hard wood.
She turned to him with surprise. “What are you doing?”
He took off his hat and set it on the bar. “I needed a stiff drink too.” He motioned for the bartender and ordered baby back ribs and whiskey, then looked at Belle. “And the lady will have . . .”
“The same.”
He squinted at her. “You sure you wouldn’t like something else to drink?”
She lifted her chin. “Are you saying I don’t know my own mind?”
He looked back at the bartender. “Whiskey it is.” After he left to fill their order, Corbin glanced at Belle. She was dressed in business attire—caramel-colored wide-legged pants and an off-white button-up shirt—like she had just come from work. Since she had been sitting on the road just outside Mrs. Fields’ property, he figured that was the case. “Jesse told me about you moving your office from Houston to the carriage house. He keeps asking me to stop by and see the renovations he’s done, but I haven’t had the time.” Plus, he didn’t want to run into the twins.
And yet, here he was.
“And you must see the renovations your brother did.” Her tone was dramatic and snide. “I’m sure you’ll lo-o-ove them as much as my sister does.” Their drinks arrived and she didn’t hesitate to take a big swig . . . and then choked as if she’d just scorched her throat with a torch.
“Easy there.” He patted her back until she caught her breath. “You sure you don’t want something a little weaker?”
Green daggers shot from her eyes. “Because I’m the weaker twin—the twin who can’t handle strong liquor or make my own decisions. I need to stick with elderberry wine and letting everyone else tell me what’s right for me.” She jabbed a finger at him. “Well, let me tell you something, Corbin Whitlock, I can handle whiskey and my own damn life!” She kept eye contact with him as she picked up her glass and downed the rest of the whiskey in one gulp. Her eyes watered and a shiver ran through her body, but she didn’t choke this time. After a deep, quivery breath, she held up her empty glass and yelled at the bartender. “Another, please!” Corbin opened his mouth, but closed it again when she shot him a warning look. “Don’t you dare say a word.”
He held up his hands. “My lips are sealed. But just for the record, I never thought of you as the weaker twin.”
She snorted. “Ha! Go lie to someone else. Everyone in town thinks I’m the weaker twin.”
“I don’t think that’s true. Yes, Liberty is the most outspoken between the two of you. She’s certainly more controlling. But that doesn’t mean she’s the strongest and you’re the weakest. Take me and Sunny, for example. Some people might look at us and say I’m the strongest because I’m more controlling. They might think I tell Sunny what to do and when to do it. The truth is that Sunny has a mind of her own. If she wants something, she usually gets it—whether I like her choice or not.”
He must have said the wrong thing because tears filled her eyes.
“But that’s the problem,” she said. “I don’t have a mind of my own. All my life, Liberty has made most of my decisions for me. Sadly, I wanted her to. I trust her decisions much more than I trust my own.” A tear rolled down her cheek and that grapefruit-sized knot returned to his throat. “Now, I realize that she’s not always going to be there to make those decisions . . . and that’s why I’m sitting here feeling totally and completely lost.” Her drink arrived and half of it was gone before he could blink.
He really didn’t want to get involved in Belle Holiday’s problems. But if he didn’t, he was afraid she was going to die from alcohol poisoning. He picked up a cocktail napkin and held it out. When she was too lost in her misery to notice it, he took her chin and turned her to face him.
“You aren’t lost.” He gently blotted the tears from her cheeks. “You’re just feeling that way because things are changing. Nobody likes change. It makes them feel uncomfortable and out of control.”
She sniffed. “I bet you’ve never felt lost or out of control. You’re like Liberty. Nothing shakes y’all.”
“Things shake us. We’re just better at hiding it.”
“What shakes you?”
At the moment, it was the mismatched teary green eyes that were staring back at him from only inches away. They held him captive and he couldn’t look away. Nor could he stop the truth from spilling out.
“Sunny being hurt or unhappy shakes me. And every time my mama dropped me and Sunny off with another relative. That shook me up real bad. Which was stupid. It happened so often you would have thought I’d have expected it. But nope. Every time she and Daddy came and got us, I thought they had fixed all the problems in their marriage and we would live as a happy family forever. A few months later, they’d start fighting and we’d be dropped off again. It wasn’t until she left us with Uncle Dan that the truth finally hit me . . . we weren’t a happy family and never would be.”
Two tears spilled from her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. This time, the knot that formed in his throat felt like a boulder.
Because this time, he knew the tears were for him.