Against the Wind, Season 2, Episode 1 (Rising Storm) (7 page)

“I’ll make more of an effort with her,” Tucker said. “Take her to the movies and give her some attention.”

Tara’s eyes sparkled. “That’d be great.”

The door opened and Bryce walked in with a sleeping Danny in his arms. He gave a quick nod and disappeared upstairs, returning by himself. “Tucker,” Bryce said.

“Bryce,” Tucker responded, pressing his lips together to keep from smiling. The usually put-together reverend’s reddish-blond hair was askew, and his T-shirt was partially out of his pants. “Busy day?”

Bryce leaned down and pressed a kiss to his wife’s forehead before dropping into a worn blue chair. “Danny was a handful.”

Tara leaned forward. “Did you get your work done?”

“No,” Bryce said with a sigh. He focused on his brother-in-law. “How are you doing?”

Tucker smiled. “I’m fine.” No way was he going to confess all to Tara’s husband. Not that the whole town didn’t already know his sins. There were no secrets in Storm. Not really. “Tara said that Danny has been getting out.”

Bryce cut a look at Tara. “Yes, but we’re handling it. Nothing to worry about.”

Tara pressed her lips together.

Tucker frowned. He’d never understood why Bryce seemed to keep the Johnson family at arm’s length. Family mattered. Even now, if Tucker really needed help, Tate would be there in a second. Sure, he’d probably punch Tucker in the face before helping, but he’d still show up. “I’m not worried, but I’d like to help if I can. Maybe take Carol out to a movie next weekend?”

Why did Tara seem to be holding her breath?

Bryce studied him, his body relaxing into the chair. “That’d be nice, Tucker.”

“Great.” Tucker stood. “I have to get to work on the ranch now, but Tara? You promised me a muffin.”

Chapter Seven

Tara Douglas waited in the booth at the cafe, feeling oddly guilty for leaving Bryce at home with both kids after Tucker had left about an hour before. But man, it was nice to have a break.

Her brother slid into the booth across from her. “You summoned me?” he asked wryly.

Tara grinned. “You could say that. I’m worried about you.”

Tate reached for a menu. “Stop worrying. I’m fine.”

That was Tate.

She flashed back to a memory of them in grade school when he’d been hit with a line drive and broken his collarbone during a baseball game at recess. He’d paused, his face beyond pale, and calmly stated that it was time to go home. Then he’d passed out.

The waitress came by and Tara ordered a cheeseburger.

“I’ll have the same.” Tate pushed the menu back into the holder and waited until the waitress had left. “I hope you’re not here on Tucker’s behalf.”

Tara sat back. “I’m here on your behalf, butthead.”

Tate grinned. “Nobody has called me a butthead in at least a week.”

“Then it’s time. How’s your face?” She nodded at the ugly bruise cutting across his cheekbone.

“Coming in handy with the ladies.” Tate grinned. “Makes me look tough.”

Actually, it did give him a bad-boy appearance that looked good on his handsome face. “From anybody in particular?” she asked.

“No.” He lost the smile. “Don’t even think of setting me up with somebody so I can find real love and forgive Tucker.”

She winced. “That obvious, huh?”

“Mom has called twice with hints for me to ask out Marisol Moreno.”

Tara frowned. “Interesting. You know I adore Marisol, but she has it bad for Patrick.”

“Doesn’t matter anyway. I’m swearing off women,” Tate said darkly.

Well, it wasn’t the first time she’d heard one of her brothers say those words. Tara shrugged. “That’s up to you.”

“Gee, thanks, sis.” Tate took a drink from his sweating water glass. “Is your husband handling Danny’s diagnosis any better?”

Tara shook her head. “Oh no, little brother. We’re here to talk about your life, not mine this time.” Tate had always tried to fix her life for her, and while sometimes it had been handy, right now, they needed to work on his problems. “How are you doing? Really?”

He sighed. “Really? I’m pissed as hell at my brother and former girlfriend. I have nightmares of Christmases years in the future where I have to buy presents for their kids, and I’m the old creepy guy who lives at the end of the lane.”

Tara chuckled. “You have every right to be mad.”

“Thanks,” he said dryly. “I thought they would’ve broken up by now.”

Not likely. She cleared her throat. “What makes you the angriest?”

He set down his glass. “What do you mean?”

“Well, what’s worse? What Tucker did to you, what Hannah did to you, or what they did to your career?” She tried to keep her tone light.

Tate slapped a hand on the table. “I am so tired of everyone thinking this is just about my damn career.”

“I don’t think that,” Tara countered. “I promise.”

He settled back. “Fine. What makes me the maddest?” At her nod, he continued, “Tucker. My brother has now shared the woman I thought I’d marry. His betrayal is what makes me the angriest.”

That’s what Tara had been afraid of. Even if Tate someday realized that Hannah wasn’t the right one for him, Tucker had still betrayed him. Tate had many good qualities, but being forgiving wasn’t exactly at the top of the list. “Is there any way you can see yourself forgiving him?” she asked.

Tate studied her. “Not while he’s still seeing Hannah. The idea of them together makes me want to puke.”

Tara sipped her water. Something told her that Tucker and Hannah might go the long haul. She sighed. “We’ll keep working on that. For now, I have an idea for your campaign.”

“Really?” Tate cocked his head to the side. “Go on.”

“Well, since you seemed to be hit by this newest problem, how about if the church has a bake sale in support of your campaign?” She leaned toward him, warming to the idea. “We can get all the older women involved, and you know they vote. If they think they’re part of the entire campaign, they’ll pull out all the stops and force everyone they know to vote for you.”

Tate drummed his fingers on the table. “That’s brilliant.”

“I know.” Warmth infused her. Now all she had to do was convince Bryce to let her turn his congregation into a campaign staff. “There’s a meeting of the women’s auxiliary group tomorrow night, and I can pitch the idea then. That you’re about safety for the community, yada yada.”

“Yada yada?” A smile tickled his lips.

She waved her hand. “You know what I mean. I think you’ll be a great mayor, and you’ll do good things for the town. So I want to help.” Tate had to win the election. If he lost, it’d be just one more hurdle for him in forgiving Tucker.

Tate nodded. “All right. I like the positive plan. Thanks, sis.”

The waitress set down their plates just as a shadow crossed the table.

Tara looked up, surprise stilling her. “Uncle Chase,” she said. While her mother had called to let her know that he was back in town, she hadn’t expected to see him so soon.

He nodded. “Tara. Tate.”

Tate glanced her way, indecision in his eyes. “Um, would you like to join us?”

Tara smiled. The guy was their uncle, and they weren’t betraying their dad by having lunch with him. “Please join us.”

Chase looked at both of them and then slowly nodded. “That’s kind of you.”

Tara moved over in the booth. Her uncle had visited periodically through the years, usually while passing through town to get to a gig somewhere. Her dad held some definite anger for his rambling brother, but the guy had always seemed a little lost to her, and his adventures on the road intrigued her. It had been a surprise when he’d shown up again. “Would you like half of my burger?”

Chase ran a hand through his graying hair and eyed the burger. “No, thanks. I just came in for a cup of tea.” He nodded when the waitress set it down. “Ordered at the counter.”

Tea? Since when did her freewheeling, blues playing, rambling uncle drink tea? Last time he was in town, he’d had a beer with breakfast. Tara peered at the bag. Herbal tea? “You should eat something,” she said, cutting her burger in two.

Chase held his cup, his bony hands dotted with liver spots. “Thanks, honey, but I’m really not hungry.” He took a sip.

“All right.” Tara dipped the burger in ketchup and took a healthy bite. “How long are you staying in town, Uncle Chase?”

He set down the cup. “I’m not sure. It’s time to stop moving around, and this is home, so maybe I’ll stay.”

Tate paused in taking a bite. “Really?”

Chase nodded. “Yeah, if your dad wants me to stay. I could help around the ranch a little.”

Tate cut Tara a look.

She ignored him. “It’s nice to have you home, and I’m sure Dad would appreciate the assistance.” Right. Their father had never spoken poorly about his brother, but he sure hadn’t said anything nice, either. Not for the first time, Tara wondered what the entire story had been. One brother had left to chase unicorns, and the other had planted deep in the soil in Storm.

Either way, it was time for the brothers to make up. She could only handle so much strife in the family, and it was Tate and Tucker’s turn, apparently. “Maybe you could help Tate, too.”

Tate frowned.

She kicked him under the table.

He pressed his lips together and gave her a glare before smoothing out his expression. “If you’re staying in town, I could use help on my campaign. Maybe you could play at a rally or something.”

Tara nodded enthusiastically. “That’s a fantastic idea.”

Chase took another drink of his fragrant tea. “I may put the guitar up, kids. It’s time to do something else, I think.”

Tara’s mouth dropped open. The few times she’d seen her uncle through the years, he’d always played the guitar at the slightest hint. She frowned at her brother, and Tate shrugged.

Bootsteps sounded. Tara looked up to see her father. “Dad.” She forced a smile, her heart rate increasing.

Zeke looked at his brother, Tate, and then Tara. “What’s going on?”

“Lunch.” Tara gestured toward the seat across from Chase. If
awkward
had hands, it held her in its grip. “Join us.”

Zeke frowned but sat across from his brother. “I had to buy feed and just came in for some coffee before heading back to the ranch.” He waved at the waitress behind the counter, who nodded.

“Oh. Tate and I were talking about his campaign, and Uncle Chase came in to get tea.” For some reason, Tara felt the need to explain why she was sitting next to Chase. How weird was that?

Zeke turned to his son. “Stop getting in fistfights and ending up in jail and I’m sure you’ll win your election.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Tate drawled, shoving his basket of fries toward his dad. “Have a fry. I won’t tell mom.”

Tara bit back a smile. Their mom had been after their dad to watch his cholesterol for several years. “I won’t tell, either.” She nudged her basket toward the middle of the table, hoping Chase would eat as well.

Chase craned his neck toward the door and then stiffened. His teacup rattled.

Tara kept still as Anna Mae, Rita Mae, and Mary Louise Prager all strode by toward a booth in the back. Anna Mae looked stylish in dark pants and a green sweater, appearing much younger than her late sixties. Her eyes widened as she approached. “Chase?” she asked.

Chase half stood. “Hi, Anna Mae.”

Anna Mae swung her gaze to Zeke. “And Zeke.” She put her hand to her throat.

What in the world? Tara looked at her dad.

Zeke cleared his throat. “Afternoon, ladies.”

Anna Mae paled, making her powdery skin look almost see-through. “When did you get back in town?” she asked Chase.

“Just the other day,” Chase said.

Anna Mae focused back on Zeke, a vein pulsing in her neck. “You’re letting him stay at your house? At the ranch?”

Zeke slowly nodded.

Rita Mae, wearing a bright yellow hat, shoved her younger sister in the back with a bony finger topped by a fluorescent blue fingernail. “Move it, Anna Mae. I’m starving and need to eat before I take my echinacea.” Once her sister hurriedly turned and started for the booth, Rita Mae glared at Chase through thick mascara. “Time for you to ramble on again.” With her nose in the air, she followed her sister.

Mary Louise watched her aunts leave, her eyes wide. “Um, sorry about that.” She kept her gaze down.

Tara reached out and patted her hand. “How are you, Mary Louise?”

“Fine.” The woman had reddish blonde hair and stunning blue eyes, but she didn’t seem to own a mirror or have any idea how beautiful she really was. “Um, how are you?”

“I’m great. In fact, I wanted to talk to you about helping with a project at the church.” Tara thought fast and on the spot. It was time to get Mary Louise out of her shell, and a political campaign was the way to do it.

Mary Louise looked up. “I’d love to help.” Her gaze slid to the other side of the table and to Tate. A pretty pink blush spread beneath her flawless skin. “What’s the project?”

Tara smiled. “I’ll explain at our meeting tomorrow night.”

“Mary Louise?” Rita Mae bellowed from the back booth. “Get away from those Johnson boys. They’re nothing but trouble.”

Mary Louise gasped and then turned. “It was nice to see you, and we’ll talk tomorrow night.” She scurried after the elderly ladies.

Tara lifted an eyebrow and caught her father’s eye. “Johnson boys?”

“Rita Mae likes to yammer. You know her.” He blushed. “That Mary Louise is a shy one. Probably because her father up and abandoned her so many years ago.” He glared at his brother. “Another musician. Aren’t you friends with good ole Nicky George Prager?”

Chase sighed. “Nick hates it when people call him Nicky George, and yes, we’re friends. We played a concert together in Daytona about five years ago, and it was a packed house all three nights. I haven’t seen him in a few years, though.”

Tara fought the urge to kick her father and tell him to be nice to his brother. Life was too danged short. What was the story with Anna Mae? Oh, she was going to have to do some digging, now wasn’t she? Her phone buzzed, and she read a text message from Bryce.

She sighed.

“What?” Tate asked.