“Then don’t climb on my bike without asking.”
His bottom lip protruded. “Well, now I ain’t gonna sell you my bike at all.” Slipping the phone back into his jeans pocket, he grabbed the handlebars and used the slanted heel of one boot to kick at the kickstand.
Since the bike wasn’t his, all Colt could do was watch. But it wasn’t easy, not when he had to fight down the urge to jump in front of the bike and fight over it like he was fighting for a Tonka truck at a playground. Instead, he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and took out a twenty, which was about all he had left after dropping the hundreds out at Grover Road.
“I’ll tell you what.” Colt tried not to beg. “Take this as earnest money, and then, if I can get it running, I’ll have it appraised and give your parents thirty percent of whatever the appraisal turns out to be.”
The kid stopped kicking and turned to him, his eyes riveted to the money. “Ninety percent, and we got a deal.”
Colt had to give it to the kid. He was a wheeler and a dealer.
“Fifty and that’s final.”
“Seventy, and I get to help.”
“Oh, no. I don’t need some kid running around getting in my way. Besides, shouldn’t you be in school?”
“I’m homeschooled.” The reply came almost too quickly.
Colt’s gaze narrowed on the innocent-looking face. No kid on Grover Road had ever been homeschooled that he knew of. Of course, no kid had an expensive cell phone with Internet access either. Obviously things had changed in the last eight years. Still, he wasn’t about to have some obstinate little kid bugging him nonstop while he tried to work.
“Sixty, and you stay the heck away from the garage.”
“Fine,” he grumbled as he stuck out one grubby hand. “But I get to ride it once it’s finished.”
“Not in my lifetime.” Colt smacked the twenty into his palm. “Now get out of here and let me work.”
The kid stared at the money for a few seconds before he stuffed it in his front pocket.
“You better make sure there are no holes,” Colt advised, before he sat back down next to the motorcycle.
“There ain’t,” he said. Out of the corner of his eye, Colt watched as the kid felt around in his pocket.
While Colt went back to work on the bike, the boy meandered around the garage with his hands stuffed in his pockets before he came back to sit on the other side of the Knucklehead. “I’m named after him, you know.”
“Who?” he asked without looking up.
“Jesse James—the outlaw, not the motorcycle dude.”
Colt shook his head.
It figured.
He felt like he’d just been held up.
A W
EST
T
EXAS
football game was something to behold—not necessarily the game itself as much as the insanity of the fans who attended it. The Bramble High Football Stadium looked as if a huge purple paintball had been dropped from overhead, splattering sweatshirts and jackets, hair and faces, and even bare man-boobs and beer bellies with the dark, vibrant color. Of course, this wasn’t just any game. This was a play-off game, the first in a series that could lead to a state championship and another year added to the
WELCOME TO BRAMBLE
sign at the city limits. Pennants flew, pompoms waved, and balloons floated amid the chattering, excited folks of Bramble.
But since the game had yet to start, the town’s attention wasn’t on the field as much as it was on Hope, as she made her way up the steps of the stadium.
“Hey, Hope!” Kenny Gene blasted his air horn, and Hope’s heart almost jumped out of her chest.
“Hope, honey, don’t be sittin’ too close to the field,” Rachel Dean yelled from her spot right behind the band. Her purple foil wig glittered in the stadium lights as she
pointed two huge foam fingers straight at Hope like a double-barreled shotgun. “Some of Jimmy Daniels punts can go a little haywire, and we don’t want you goin’ into an early labor.”
“Early would definitely be the word for it,” Shirlene said from behind her.
Hope glanced back at her best friend. As usual, Shirlene was dolled up like a blonde bombshell—hair curled and fluffed, makeup artfully applied, and enough gold and diamonds to warrant an armed escort. And everything she wore, from the sky-high heels to the down jacket, was a deep Bramble High purple. Hope, on the other hand, had done nothing more than run a brush through her hair and slap on a sweatshirt.
Purple, of course.
“Up here, girls,” her mother yelled, shaking her cowbell to get their attention.
Hope didn’t particularly want to sit next to her mama, not when her mama was still convinced she was pregnant and nothing Hope said would change her mind. Jenna Scroggs had been a smothering mother before, but it was nothing compared to what she was now. They hadn’t even reached her row, when Jenna started in.
“Hope Marie, don’t tell me you forgot to bring a jacket? If I told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times—don’t forget your jacket. And now ain’t the time to catch a chill.”
Since the jacket Hope had worn to every game since she was fifteen was now being worn by the woman sitting next to her mother, all she could do was shrug, which wasn’t enough for her mama.
“Burl, take off your coat and give it to Hope. I don’t want her catchin’ a chill.”
“I don’t want Daddy’s coat,” she said, a little too loudly. “I’m not cold. In fact, I’m burning up.” She was burning up, burning up with jealousy over an ugly purple letterman’s jacket with more than a few state championship patches on the leather sleeves.
“Leave her be, Jenna,” Darla butted in from the next row up, where she sat with her husband, Billy Joe. “I thought I would boil alive with my first one. Tyson was like havin’ my own little heatin’ pad tucked right inside my belly. Billy Joe swears we saved hundreds on our utility bills that year.”
“She’s right,” Billy Joe agreed. “I didn’t even need no blanket when snuggled up next to her.”
Shirlene laughed. And since her friend thought the situation was so amusing, Hope shoved her into the row so she would be the one to sit next to Slate’s coat and closer to her overprotective mother.
“Temper, temper, honey,” Shirlene whispered back at her. “You don’t want to hurt the twins, do ya?”
“Shut up, Shirl.” Hope sat down on the purple-and-gold blanket that her mother had spread all the way down the bleachers, even though the only children living in Bramble were Hope and Faith. After the wedding, Hope’s brother, Dallas, had headed back to the University of Texas in Austin. Jenna Jay had gone back to Texas Tech in Lubbock, and Tessa had returned to her job in Amarillo. Lucky ducks.
“Hi,” Faith spoke so softly Hope could hardly hear her over the crowd’s building excitement.
“Hi, honey,” Shirlene patted Faith’s Wrangler-covered knee. “You all packed up and ready to move into that gorgeous new home of yours?”
“There wasn’t really that much to pack.”
“Well, give it a few months, and I’m sure you’ll have as much crap as I do.”
“Doubtful,” Hope grumbled.
Shirlene shot her a snide look before she got even. “ ’Course, crap or no crap, Hope and I will be there bright and early in the mornin’ to help you move into your dream home.”
“Really?” Faith leaned over and looked at Hope with enough wide-eyed gratitude to fill Cinderella’s castle.
“What are sisters for,” Hope said as sincerely as a jilted woman could. But Faith wasn’t so easily fooled, and after only a second of staring into Hope’s eyes, she glanced down at Slate’s letterman’s jacket, and all that Disney happiness fizzled right out of her.
“Of course, if you’d rather not help, I understand.”
“Hope not help out a member of Bramble?” Shirlene sounded horrified. “Why that’s like asking a wide-mouthed bass not to swim.” She shot a warning look at Hope. “Isn’t that right, Hog?”
“I’ll be there with bells on,” Hope said, although this time she refused to look her sister in the eye. Fortunately, Faith didn’t push it and instead turned to answer a question her mama had asked.
“Just you wait, Shirl,” Hope spoke under her breath. “Your day will come.”
“My day has already come and gone, honey. The town loved to gossip about all my sexual exploits before I married Lyle, but after the weddin’ no one seemed the least bit interested.” She opened her huge purple designer purse and pulled out a bag of microwave popcorn. “Of course, I can’t say as I blame them. Married life is about as boring as it gets.”
Hope took a handful of popcorn. “Lyle still out of town?”
“Yes. And I have to tell you, I’m starting to get worried.”
Hope choked on a kernel, and Shirlene tapped her on the back while her mama leaned over with a concerned look. After catching her breath, Hope waited for her mother to sit back before she whispered, “You think he’s cheating?”
Shirlene’s green eyes widened. “Of course not. Why would a man cheat when he could come home to this?” She fanned French-manicured nails down the front of the tight purple sweater. “No, I think it’s something worse.”
“What could be worse?”
“Try
no money.
”
“Dalton Oil’s in financial trouble—”
Shirlene slapped a hand over Hope’s mouth before glancing around. “Would you keep it down, honey? We don’t want a riot on our hands, do we?” After releasing Hope’s mouth, Shirlene dove into the popcorn, as if she hadn’t just brought up her husband’s financial ruin.
“So what makes you think there’s a problem?”
“Last time I was in Austin shopping, I had two of my credit cards rejected.”
Hope snorted. “With the way you shop, Shirl, that’s not a big deal. You probably just spent over the limit.”
“Over a hundred-thousand-dollar limit? I’m a big spender, honey, but not that big. Which means Lyle isn’t paying them off like he used to every month—which means something isn’t right.”
“Why don’t you ask him about it?”
“I have, and he just keeps telling me not to worry my pretty little head over it.”
“I hate to bring this up, Shirl.” Hope leaned over for another handful of popcorn. “But isn’t that what you wanted when you married him? You told me you never wanted to worry about money again.”
“I guess you’re right.” Shirlene nibbled a few kernels before she turned to Hope. “But what if I should be worried? What if the well ran dry—literally?”
It was a terrifying thought. Dalton Oil employed half the town. If it went under, Bramble would too. It had happened to other small towns when their main source of income fell prey to a weak economy. But Hope couldn’t believe that could happen to her beloved town—not when oil was what made the world go round.
“It’s probably not as bad as you think,” Hope tried to rationalize. “Maybe Lyle just got too busy and forgot to pay the credit cards off. And now that you brought it to his attention, I bet it’s already been taken care of.”
“Probably,” Shirlene said, in between bites, although she didn’t sound convinced. “But when I go to Midland for your baby shower decorations, I’m definitely taking cash.”
Another kernel got stuck in Hope’s throat, but this time a blast of disbelief shot it back out, and it sailed down three rows to land in Sue Ellen’s purple spray-painted hair.
“Baby shower?” Hope shook her head. “Oh, no, you are not throwing me a baby shower, Shirl.”
“Why, of course I am, honey. What kind of a best friend do you take me for?”
Before Hope could tell her exactly what kind of friend she took her for, the announcer’s voice blasted through the speakers.
“Please stand for our national anthem!”
“I mean it, Shirl,” Hope said as she stood and placed
a hand over her heart. “This foolishness has gone on long enough, and I’m certainly not going to let the good people of this town spend their hard-earned money on things I’ll never use.”
“Who says you’ll never use them. You want kids, don’t you?”
Hope had wanted kids. Cute little blonde-headed mini-quarterbacks and petite, brunette starlets, but that plan had gone to hell in her sister’s handcart. Now all she wanted was to cuss out Shirlene, along with an entire town of people who refused to accept the truth.
Unfortunately, she was forced to drop the conversation when the Bramble High ROTC took the field; if there was one thing the folks of Bramble didn’t put up with, it was disrespecting the American flag. And after the honor guard marched off the field, the roar of the crowd grew deafening as the team tore through the paper banner.
Slate was the last one to step through the tattered remnants. Without a hat, his hair shone like liquid gold in the bright stadium lights. When he reached the benches, he looked up at the crowd, his eyes searching until his gaze caught hers. Suddenly she was back in high school, standing on the sidelines in her cheerleading uniform, awaiting a smile and a wink from the most popular boy in school.
Except this time, his gaze moved on quickly, and she became nothing more than an observer to the warm, loving smile that he sent her sister, a sister who reciprocated with a blown kiss that Hope could’ve sworn made Slate blush.
The cheers grew louder, and Hope jerked her gaze away, only to be caught in the stormy depths of a pair of eyes she hadn’t planned on seeing again.