Brothers Read online

  The statement earned fast and hard attention from my brother. He stared at me across the table. "How'd you see that?"

  A short dry laugh left my mouth. "Really? That's the question that pops into your head when I tell you she has a gnarly bruise?" I decided to put him out of his misery. "I walked in just as she was pulling my flannel shirt up on her shoulders."

  Zach's beard shifted side to side, which meant he was moving his jaw, which meant he was mulling over what I said. He sat forward. "That's why we have to make sure to help her so she doesn't have to go back there."

  I grew quiet and took another drink from my beer. Zach was watching me. He always knew when I had something on my mind. I was never one to hold in what I was feeling. It was one of the ways that Zach and I were opposites. He liked to keep things buried, and I was always bringing shit to the surface, even when it wasn't a good idea.

  I leaned forward and rested my forearms on the table as I picked at the label on my beer. "I know this sounds stupid since Joelle just landed in our lives a few hours ago, but I've got a terrible itch to pound that asshole into fucking pulp. I saw that bruise and my hands just balled up, asking for something to hit. It's been a long time since I felt that way, but something about her—I just want to make sure she's safe. I want to make sure no one ever hurts her again. I know that sounds fucking crazy since we—"

  "No, Jes." Zach looked toward the hallway. "It's not crazy at all. Or maybe it is. All I know is that I'm feeling the same damn way."

  8

  Joelle

  Sherry had that rare combination of red hair and brown eyes with only a smattering of freckles on her golden skin. I was instantly envious. "You're so beautiful," I gushed before realizing I said it.

  She laughed. "Coming from the stunning brunette, who looks like a goddess even wrapped in faded flannel, I consider that the highest of compliments." She put her hands on her hips. "Seriously, did you even have one zit as a teenager?" She leaned back and looked me up and down. "You're a little taller than me, and your legs are longer, but I think the clothes I brought will work just fine." She hauled the duffle bag up onto the bed and began to pluck things out of it. She had her red hair pinned up in a bun on her head, exposing the tiny vine of roses she had tattooed around her neck and up along the back of her ear. From the edges of tattoos sticking out from her sleeves, it seemed she might rival Zach in ink. It occurred to me that she might just be Jesse's or Zach's girlfriend.

  "How do you know Zach and Jesse?"

  "There isn't a soul alive in Tanglewood who doesn't know the Coltrane boys. And not just because they were always getting into trouble when they were teens."

  "Yes, they told me their great-granddad built the town."

  "He sure did." She held a pair of jeans up in front of me but then shook her head. "Too short." She tossed them back on the bed. "My brother, Sundance, is their best friend. All that trouble I just talked about? Well, my brother, was always right there with them." She held up another pair. "Here, give these a try."

  "Oh, I should probably wait until my panties are dry. I washed them in the bathroom sink. They're all I've got."

  Sherry waved her hand and turned back to the bag. "Got you covered." She pulled out a plastic tube that looked like a can for tennis balls and tossed it to me. "Ever seen a Tube o' Panties before?"

  "I can't say I have." I rolled the can across my palm. The label claimed that five pairs of panties were jammed into the canister. "Interesting."

  "Once a month, my husband and I drive an hour into the city to shop at the Bulk Buy Warehouse. I buy myself a Tube o' Panties every time. Don't ask me why, but I never leave that place without my can of underwear, a twelve pack of paper towels and a pound of butter. It's a kind of weird, paranoid thing I've got going, a little switch in my head that says you don't want to run out of panties, paper towels or butter. Otherwise, everything else will go to shit. Anthony, my hubby, makes fun of me every time. But I've yet to see him leave the place without his coffee creamer. Even though we've got a cupboard full of the stuff, in every damn flavor, international or not, but he still buys it." She rummaged through the bag and pulled out a blue sweater. "This will go great with your dark hair. Although I'm sure you don't give a darn about that considering . . ." Her words trailed off, and she looked slightly embarrassed, as if she'd stepped into something she hadn't meant to. "Sorry, Jesse mentioned a bit about how you got here, and I just want to say 'good for you'. Hope you don't mind that he told me."

  Tears pooled in my eyes. I realized it was the first time I'd cried since I hopped on the train. And I wasn't crying about leaving behind my life. Far from it. They were tears of relief. I still had no idea what my future held, but I was taking the first step toward a better life.

  I shook my head. "I don't mind at all. You've been so generous, I don't know how I'll repay you." A weak laugh followed as I held up the plastic tube. "You even parted with a whole tube of panties."

  "Enjoy. Those were from my end of the world stash anyhow, so as long as there are no major calamities between now and the next trip to Bulk Buy, I'll be fine."

  "Gosh, I'll keep my fingers crossed for that. I don't know if I could live with the guilt of knowing that you were stuck panty-less during the apocalypse."

  Sherry laughed. "I can see you and I are going to get along great. Hope you'll stick around for awhile. Tanglewood is a slow moving town, but it's scenic and friendly and ridiculously quirky. My husband, Anthony, is the mayor. I met him when I was away at art school. Anthony was studying accounting. He's a total nerd." She pointed to herself. "Talk about the odd couple. We got married and moved back to Tanglewood so I could start my business. And the townsfolk thought he was the smartest, most well-mannered person in the world. He'd only been here six months when he ran for mayor and won in a landslide. Everyone had always wanted Zach to run for the office, like his dad and granddad had, but Zach blanched white at the suggestion. Can't you just see him sitting behind a desk, in a suit, making boring city decisions?"

  "Nope, can't picture that at all." I sat on the bed and opened the canister. "They didn't want Jesse to run?" I fished out a pair and pulled them on.

  Sherry's only response to that was a laugh. "Of course, that Jesse can charm the pants off anyone. And trust me he has. I think every twenty-something woman in this town has had her heart broken at least once by either one of the Coltrane brothers. Sundance has done his share of breaking hearts too. Not that any of them mean anything by it, they just don't seem interested in settling down. Zach had someone once, Sage, his high school sweetheart. But she decided the rest of the world had a bigger slice of pie waiting for her, so she left. I thought Zach might follow her. I think Sage thought so too. But it's pretty damn hard to leave behind your family legacy. Plus, Jesse and Zach have been on their own for awhile, and as much as they like to bitch at each other, they are closer than any two brothers I know. You don't piss off one of the Coltranes without pissing off the other. Sundance is just a surname away from being their third brother."

  I picked up the pair of jeans. "Sundance, is that his real name?"

  Sherry began folding the clothes she deemed right for me. "It's his middle name, our mom's maiden name. When he was little, we called him by his real name, Nathan. On his tenth birthday, our dad decided my brother was old enough to go with him to the shooting range to practice hitting targets. By the time he was fifteen, he could outshoot and out draw anyone. That knucklehead can shoot the spots off a damn ladybug from hundred yards away. So we started calling him Sundance, like the famous outlaw, Sundance Kid."

  "I love that story." I stood up and buttoned the jeans. "How do they look?"

  "Uh, with that body, you'd look good in duct tape and garbage bags."

  I kept the flannel shirt on for the time being, mostly because it was warm and soft, and interestingly enough, it had a nice scent, Jesse's shampoo or soap. Whatever it was, I was already growing fond of it.

  Sherry carried the stack of folded clo
thes to the dresser. She slid them into the top drawer. "Here are some warm sweaters and t-shirts." She looked pointedly at the oversized socks on my feet, which were doing a great job of keeping my feet warm. "I'll look for some socks that fit. Maybe I have a Tube o' socks somewhere in my bottomless pit of a closet. And I know I have a coat that will fit you."

  "Oh my gosh, Sherry, you are beyond generous. I don't even know where to start to say thank you." My throat tightened before the next words, but I couldn't do anything to stop it. "You and Zach and Jesse have been so kind. I haven't—I left behind everything. A few hours into my ride in the boxcar, I worried that I'd just left behind all my belongings and that there wouldn't be anything or anyone waiting for me at the end of the train tracks. And now I'm here, standing in this cute, cozy room, wearing warm clothes and feeling as if maybe I can leave behind my past and find a future worth smiling about." I was feeling overwhelmed with emotion. So much had changed in the past twenty-four hours that I was still having a hard time believing it.

  Sherry crossed the room to give me a hug. "You just get your feet under you and you'll see, soon enough, everything will look brighter."

  "I won't forget this, Sherry. I won't forget any of this."

  I heard her sniffle. She lowered her arms and took a quick swipe at her cheek before facing me. "Great, now you've got me bawling." She waved her hand in front of her face to dry her eyes.

  "The brothers told me I could stay here until I figured out what I was going to do. I need to find a job and fast. I don't want to overstay my welcome or get in the way of their lives."

  Sherry drew in one long sniffle and followed it with a release of breath. She had deep dimples on her cheeks that added to her beauty. "What are your skills? What job did you leave behind?"

  We sat on the side of the bed. "I went to city college to start a business degree, but I had to quit to work two jobs. Bobby, the man I was with, was spending more time gambling and less time working. We could barely keep a roof over our heads. I've worked in a candy store. I don't recommend it unless you're willing to grow two dress sizes and risk diabetes. I've worked as salesperson in a boutique where a group of fashion designers collaborated together to create collections. It was fun, but the customers were overly snooty. I've done lots of odd jobs, including gardening and pet care for people on vacation. In the last few months, I found that if I stood on a busy street corner—"

  Sherry sucked in a gasp.

  "No, not that," I laughed. "I guess I should reword that. I played my guitar and sang on street corners for spare change. On a good day, when people were feeling generous and I didn't sound like a frog, I could make fifty bucks in dollar bills and quarters. But I'm a fast learner. As long as you don't count the years I wasted thinking Bobby was going to evolve backwards into the handsome, pleasant high school quarterback. That lesson took way longer than it should have. You mentioned you had a business. What kind of business is it?"

  A knock sounded on the door.

  "Come in," I said.

  Zach popped his head inside the room and then entered. He looked at the jeans. "I see Sherry's got you all taken care of."

  I patted her arm. "She is the best."

  "That she is."

  "Oh please, you two." Sherry hopped up. "No really, please, keep going." She looked back at me. "You asked about my business? Here's a hint—" She dropped her hand on Zach's shoulder. "This gorgeous hunk of a man is my best customer."

  Jesse walked in right then. "Did someone call for a gorgeous hunk?"

  Sherry rolled her eyes.

  I rubbed my chin in thought. "Oh, right, duh. You're a tattoo artist."

  "Yep. I'm from a family of leathersmiths, but I decided to start my own family tradition. The only problem that I hadn't really considered when I moved back here was that there is a finite amount of skin in a small town. So I sell beauty and hair supplies on the other side of the shop. Which reminds me—" She stopped and seemed to remember something. She turned back to the bag, unzipped a front pocket and pulled out a hair brush and toothbrush. She handed them to me with her gracious smile and continued her conversation. "And that is where you come in. I've been thinking about hiring someone to help out in the shop. It's too much for me to keep an eye on the other side of the shop when I'm doing a complicated tattoo. This is my opportunity to give that idea a chance. If you're interested?"

  I was speechless.

  Sherry took my silence as indecision. "Well, mull it over."

  "No, I would love to work in your shop. The words were just stuck because—" I looked around at the faces, all strangers just a few hours earlier, but they'd opened their home and given me food and clothes and friendly smiles. "Just thanks. If I say more, I'm going to get mushy and weepy eyed."

  Sherry's phone buzzed. "That's Anthony. He's probably wondering where I am. Take a few days to relax and think things through. Then one of these guys can bring you to the shop."

  "I will. And thank you again, Sherry."

  She hugged me and then stepped back to admire the jeans she'd brought me. "Those look amazing on you." Something made her pause before she turned to Zach and Jesse. A serious expression, one that might have been concern, crossed her face. "Maybe we can find her a place of her own soon. I'm sure someone in town has a room to rent."

  Jesse's brows pinched together, slightly agitated by her suggestion. "What's wrong with this room?"

  "Nothing," Sherry said quietly. She shook her head. "Nothing at all." She and Zach exchanged glances. It seemed Zach had picked up on her cryptic message. Jesse and I were still in the dark.

  Zach switched topics. "Thanks for bringing all that stuff by, Sher."

  "You bet." Sherry headed out of the bedroom.

  The front door opened and shut. The three of us stood in the center of the bedroom in an awkward silence, which Jesse thankfully broke. "Zach has some work to do in the shop, but I'm meeting some people at this place called Petty Thief. It's kind of a dive, but they serve cheap beer and there's usually some decent music playing."

  I looked longingly at the bed. Zach had put on clean sheets and a tattered but comfy looking quilt. "You guys go on with your evening. I don't want to get in the way. I didn't sleep at all last night. Turns out boxcars aren't all that cozy. I would really love to climb into that bed."

  "Of course," Jesse said. "Another time. Sweet dreams."

  "Anything else you need?" Zach asked before turning to leave.

  "Not at all. It's perfect. Everything is perfect."

  Zach nodded and slipped in a quiet smile before walking out and closing the bedroom door behind him.

  9

  Zach

  I cupped my hands around the steaming cup of coffee as I lumbered across the yard. The rain from the night before had left enough dew on the trees, grass and roof shingles that everything had a crystal white sheen in the early morning sun. I'd knocked on Jesse's door on my way out to breakfast but only got an angry grunt in response. It seemed I'd have the shop to myself for a few hours.

  Joelle's room had been quiet too as I tiptoed past. I was glad she was catching up on her rest. She'd been through enough that she deserved a long, peaceful sleep. As Sherry left last night, I got the sense that she wasn't sure this whole thing, inviting Joelle to stay with us, was such a good idea. Sherry had that kind of intuition that could be written about in textbooks, that sixth sense that let her know when a song was about to come on the radio a good ten minutes before it actually happened. She could bring up someone from our past, someone who we hadn't seen or talked about in years and damn if that person didn't end up calling or showing up unexpectedly. Her husband called her abilities uncanny, but Sundance preferred to use the word creepy when talking about Sherry's premonitions. After Sherry left the house, I spent a good fifteen minutes in the shop, telling myself it was nothing and that I'd just misread her expression. I knew what she was getting at, but Jesse and I weren't kids or hormonal teens anymore. We could handle things just fine.

 
I put my coffee on the work table and pulled the newspaper out from under my arm. I glanced at the headlines and skimmed a few articles before pulling free several sheets. I walked over to the forge, wadded the paper up into a tight ball and then lit the tiny ends that stuck out. I dropped the burning lump of paper into the pot inside the forge and then cranked air through the blower. I leaned down to the five gallon bucket of coke, a fuel we made from coal, and dug a shovel into it. Gray dust kicked up in the air as I filled the scoop with the hard porous nuggets. I covered the ball of paper and continued to add air to the forge. I leaned down and pushed some of the coke into the burnt out holes in the paper. I repeated, adding coke and air until the first nugget of coke glowed red. Some moist coal would help keep the fire and the heat in control.

  I walked over to the hook on the wall and grabbed my leather apron. I returned to my coffee. As I looked up, Joelle walked into the shop. Our normally unsocial dog followed closely at her heels as if he'd found his new best friend. Joelle was wearing a sweater and the jeans that Sherry gave her. Her long hair floated around her shoulders, contrasting with the blue of the sweater. Her big brown eyes rounded with curiosity as she surveyed the shop.

  I hadn't imagined it. She was incredible.

  Bear, apparently confident that he'd seen Joelle safely across the yard, turned back and headed out to his favorite sun spot on the stoop.

  Joelle lifted the cup of coffee she was holding. "I hope you don't mind. I helped myself to some coffee."

  "Not at all. I was hoping you'd feel free to take some. Did you sleep all right?"

  "Yes. I feel like a whole new person." She walked to the table where I stood.

  Everything about her was mesmerizing. It was hard to take it all in at once, the amber brown eyes, the way her long fingers curled around the cup, the small beauty mark just above her lips, lips that look as if they'd been sculpted by an artist. I couldn't stop staring as she once again looked around.