Read Brave the Storm, Season 2, Episode 3 (Rising Storm) Online

Authors: Lisa Mondello

Tags: #Rising Storm, #small town, #Lisa Mondello, #Texas, #Romance

Brave the Storm, Season 2, Episode 3 (Rising Storm) (4 page)

BOOK: Brave the Storm, Season 2, Episode 3 (Rising Storm)
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“Really? That’s impressive.”

Brittany rolled her eyes, which earned a smile from Scott.

“A&M’s football program has gotten a lot stronger,” Brittany said.

Scott seemed surprised. “You like football?”

Brittany giggled. “I go to UT. Not much of a choice, really.”

Marylee watched the interaction between Brittany and Scott. He was a handsome young man, and A&M certainly wasn’t some small-town college. Though he wasn’t exactly perfect for Brittany either, he might do as a distraction for now.

“The two of you should stop by the house tomorrow for lunch. You can introduce Jeffry to Scott and maybe the four of you could do something together.”

“Grams, what are you doing?”

Hedda’s smile was instantaneous. “That’s a fabulous idea.”

“I’d love to stop by,” Scott said. “I’ve never been to this part of Texas. Maybe you could give us a tour.”

Brittany was clearly not happy with her, but Marylee didn’t care. If giving the boys a tour of the area kept Brittany away from Marcus Alvarez, then it was worth Brittany being a little angry with her.

Feeling satisfied that she’d accomplished her goal, Marylee said, “I’ll take the daisies, Hedda.”

 

* * * *

 

This picture was a good one. With a shaky hand, Celeste picked up the stick of glue and dabbed it on the blank scrapbook page before pressing the photo of Jacob onto the paper. He was happy. Such a beautiful, happy child.

She searched the pile of snapshots she’d pulled out of the boxes they’d tucked in the attic the last time they’d painted the walls in their house. Somehow the images of when the children were little had stayed there. But today Celeste had been ready to unearth them again.

Sniffing back tears, she chose another baby picture. This time it was a shot of Jacob as a toddler. He’d been so good. So happy. He’d never given her an ounce of trouble.

The photo had been taken at the dining room table where Celeste was sitting now. He’d been holding onto one of the chairs and smiling up at her as she snapped the photo. It was as if Jacob were actually there in the room with her again.

She dabbed the glue on the scrapbook page. It wasn’t fair. None of it. Her Jacob was gone and now… She had nothing.

Anger swirled through her as she thought of the lies Ginny Moreno had fed her. Fed them all. Nothing could be crueler than pretending to be carrying the baby of the child Celeste had lost. The child Ginny had stolen from her with her reckless driving in that car accident. And now she’d stolen two children. Except the grandchild Celeste had thought she’d celebrate running on the floors of this house, just like Jacob had, was only fiction.

She pasted the picture. Then another. Then she got up from the dining room table and poured herself a tall glass of vodka before returning to her task.

“Here’s another one,” she whispered, trembling with the vodka glass at her lips.

Celeste picked up the photo and looked at it through tear-filled eyes. It was the day they’d taken Lacey home from the hospital and Jacob met his baby sister for the first time. As a toddler, Jacob looked lost in the chair that he’d eventually filled out nicely as a teenager. He’d held Lacey and looked at her so seriously. Celeste’s arms were barely visible in the photo as she supported his chubby body, sagging with the weight of the baby as Travis took the picture.

“What are you doing?”

Celeste snapped her gaze up and saw Lacey standing in the doorway. Sniffing back tears, she said, “I didn’t know you were home.”

“You don’t notice me much these days.”

Celeste felt her bottom lip tremble. By the stricken look on Lacey’s face, she knew her daughter regretted her words.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“Yes, you did,” she said delicately. “And I can’t blame you. I haven’t been myself. I don’t think I ever will be again.”

 

Chapter Five

He’d spent an hour playing his guitar as soon as he’d woken up. Normally Chase would have had a cup of coffee and a shower before doing anything. But music helped his body wake up more than caffeine did these days. Music was as much his medicine as the scripts his doctor wrote for him.

Now showered and feeling more himself, Chase left his bedroom and headed downstairs for some breakfast.

“Dinner is at six every night,” Zeke said, as Chase descended the staircase.

Chase met his brother at the bottom of the landing before speaking. “Is that right?”

“Don’t play with me, Chase. The people who help run this house may not be kin, but they are family. Some of them have been with us since just after you left Storm. To that end, nothing has changed here since the last time you lived here.”

Chase’s eyebrows stretched on his forehead. “I can think of a whole lot of things that have changed. You weren’t married then. Back then you were sweet on my girl.”

His jaw tightened. “Your girl? Too bad you forgot that when you left here. But let me remind you of this. Our father was running this ranch back then, too, and it broke his heart that you left and never came home. We could have used your help. Instead, you strapped that damned guitar on your back and left Storm and any responsibility you had here.”

“I seem to remember you giving me a black eye as payment. It was quite the talk on my first day in the studio.”

Zeke shook his head and balled his fist. Chase had a feeling his brother had been itching to give Chase another black eye for some time. But Zeke held his temper, something he must have learned over the years. Or maybe Alice had mellowed him some.

Alice was a good match for his brother. He’d barely known her before he left Storm, but in the short time he’d been back at the ranch, he saw how much his brother’s wife complemented him. Chase was genuinely happy for his brother, for the life he’d built here while he was gone. Aside from Chase’s presence on the ranch, Zeke seemed happy.

“We still have staff that work here and we respect the job they do on our behalf,” Zeke said. “I know you’re not of a mind to think of anyone other than yourself, but if you’re not going to be home for dinner, I’d appreciate you telling the staff so you don’t waste their time.”

“The cooks here have always prepared enough for an army. There’s never been a problem with having extra at the dinner table. I really didn’t think there’d be a problem with one less.” He hadn’t even thought of it, which only proved Zeke’s point that Chase had been thoughtless. “I guess it’s too much of a burden to take a plate off the table? Or was it staring at the empty chair that you had a hard time with?”

Zeke’s face turned red. “You really don’t give a damn about anyone, do you?”

“I was at Murphy’s last night having a drink with Tate. You haven’t seen him since that awkward family dinner we had the other night, I take it.”

Zeke’s surprise was evident in the way he pulled back from his anger. But he recovered quickly.

“Tate is a grown man. He goes about his business as he sees fit. I don’t keep up on all he does. But when it comes to this ranch, I do. If you’re living here, then you need to abide by how things are done here. This ranch has always been run tight, Chase. I don’t know or care about the kind of reckless life you led in Nashville, but there are still rules here and we still respect the people who work for us to make our lives easier. We don’t take them for granted. If Daddy were alive today he’d have you out in back of the barn whipping your hide for your behavior.”

“I think we’re both a long way from getting a whipping.” At Zeke’s cold glare, Chase amended, “It’s been a while. I forgot how Mom always ran the household with a strict hand. I guess Alice does that too? I’ll remember to call next time.”

“See that you do.”

Zeke propped his Stetson on his head and headed for the kitchen. Chase waited until he heard the kitchen door open and shut before heading into the kitchen himself. Okay, that made him a coward and he’d never been a coward where his brother was concerned. But he didn’t have the want or the need for a fight this morning. Pretty soon, he wouldn’t have the strength.

The kitchen was empty when he walked inside. The red light on the coffee pot was still lit and the pot was half full. He opened the cabinet and grabbed a mug before placing it on the granite counter. After pouring a cup of coffee, he took a sip as he walked over to the breakfast table by the window and winced at the bitter taste. The coffee was still hot but it had been sitting too long.

Pulling a chair away from the table, he sat down. He’d drink the coffee anyway because he needed it. Taking another sip, he glanced through the white eyelet curtains in the direction of the barn. Tucker and a young woman wearing a well-worn pair of jeans and her hair tied back in a braid were walking out of the barn arm in arm. Both of them were laughing about something.

“Must be the famous Hannah,” he mumbled.

Women. Wars were waged for them. At least between friends and family. This time it was brothers. He didn’t know all the details. He’d only just heard rumors at the barbeque. But he did know that Hannah had once been his nephew Tate’s girl, something Tate had acknowledged himself. And from the looks of the way Hannah and Tucker embraced openly under the hot sun, things had surely changed.

Hannah climbed into her truck and pulled out of the parking area, waving to Tucker while he waited on the grass. She was a pretty girl, much like her mother had been at that age. She had an easy way about her that was hard to ignore.

He glanced over at Tucker. Even from where he was sitting, Chase recognized a man in love.

“Shit,” he mumbled and then drained his mug.

Chase didn’t need to know the details. He could figure out most of what was relevant himself. But he did know that whatever had gone down had created a rift between Tate and Tucker that was beginning to look like what happened between him and Zeke. And he didn’t much like that at all.

 

* * * *

 

Fifteen minutes later, Chase walked out to the paddock where Tucker was now working with Pringles, one of the horses. When Chase was sitting at the breakfast table, he’d seen Zeke with his two grandchildren, Carol Ann and Danny, riding the horses.

Chase has seen his brother’s grandchildren before at the barbeque. The little one, Danny, was a handful and everyone at the barbeque had an eye on him at all times. The boy’s father, a pastor at the local church, had mentioned that Danny had autism. Chase didn’t know anything about autism, but he did know love and that boy was the apple of Bryce Douglas’s eye just like his big sister Carol.

Chase headed out to the barn only after he’d seen Zeke take the children into the house, leaving Tucker to tend to the horses. When Chase and Zeke were kids, leaving a horse without tending to its needs was cause for a whipping. You never left a horse without making sure it was rubbed down and watered after a ride. But what did Chase know about raising young ones or spoiling by a grandparent? The only person he’d had to care for was himself.

Tucker glanced up from undoing the cinch on Pringles’ saddle when he approached.

“You up for a ride, Uncle Chase? I can get one of the other horses.”

Chase shook his head and rubbed the horse’s neck. A ride would be nice, but the heat was already enough to melt him into the ground. Besides, he had other things on his mind.

“I noticed things were a little chilly at the dinner table the other night. You and Tate weren’t exactly cordial to each other.”

Tucker paused for a second, and then continued his task before pulling the saddle off Carol’s horse.

“Didn’t think it would bother you so much. You and Dad have barely spoken two words to each other since you arrived in Storm. At least in my presence.”

“Fair enough. But Zeke and I, we have a history that goes way back before you were born, son. Time doesn’t always heal bad blood. Sometimes it makes it worse.”

“This isn’t like you and my father.”

Chase wasn’t so sure of that. There were deeper issues that had driven him and Zeke apart, but it had all started with a woman.

Tucker handed him the saddle. The weight of it, despite the fact that it was a child’s saddle, left him momentarily unsteady on his feet.

“You got that?” he asked.

Chase gripped the saddle. “It’s fine. What’s not fine is what’s happening with you and Tate. No woman is worth causing a divide between brothers.”

Tucker’s expression was one of surprise. It wasn’t Chase’s place to drag out old arguments that had been secret between him and Zeke for so long. Especially if his kids had no clue about their father’s past. It had been left there where secrets should stay buried. And they would have if Chase had stayed in Nashville and forgotten that he and Zeke had once been close friends as well as brothers, and he’d once had the love of a woman like Anna Mae Prager.

“Who says what’s between us is about a woman? Honestly, Uncle Chase, it’s probably best you don’t get in the middle of things with me and Tate.”

“I live here. It’s hard not to.”

Tucker didn’t bother meeting his gaze.

“Of course it’s over a woman,” Chase said, laughing. “It’s always over a woman.”

“I’m not a damned country song,” Tucker said as he took the bridle off the horse.

“No? Could have fooled me. Young buck steals his brother’s girl and leaves him with nothing but heartache? Sounds like something I’ve heard on the radio before.”

Tucker grabbed the blanket from the horse’s back and started walking toward the barn, then stopped and turned to look at Chase. “You going to hold that saddle all day or put it back in the tack room?”

“Wasn’t sure if I was welcome.” That earned him a quick smile from his nephew. Tucker was a lot like him. He hadn’t had the pleasure of bonding with his brother’s kids while they were growing up. But seeing Tucker as the man he’d become reminded Chase of what it was like to be young and full of passion. Tucker had that passion for ranching the way Chase had it for music. And for Annie.

“Sure, you let the old man carry the saddle while you carry a blanket?” he said with a low chuckle.

Tucker flashed a quick smile. “I’m not stupid.”

BOOK: Brave the Storm, Season 2, Episode 3 (Rising Storm)
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