Brothers

by Tess Oliver

  "You'll be swimming in this shirt, but it'll be better than those wet clothes you're wearing." He held up the pair of socks. "These will be too big too, but your feet will be warm."

  I sat forward on the couch and took the shirt and socks from his hand. "I can't thank you guys enough."

  Jesse sat on the couch. "Just glad you're feeling better." He pointed down at the snoring dog. "Bear doesn't usually like strangers, but he sure warmed up to you fast. And along that same line, most strangers don't warm up to Bear fast either. Most people shy away from petting him."

  "He's magnificent. Is he part—?"

  "Wolf? Yeah. Someone abandoned him as a puppy. Guess they had a second thought about taking in a wolf hybrid. He was a big pain in the ass as a puppy." Jesse's toe moved and tapped the dog's big paw. Bear kept snoring. "He chewed up every pair of shoes we had, steel toed boots and all. And when you sit on any of the chairs at the kitchen table, sit gently. Every leg has been chewed on like it's an ear of corn."

  I reached forward and stroked the dog's fur. It had a coarser texture than most dogs, no doubt a trait inherited from his wild ancestors. "Have you guys lived here your whole life?"

  "Since day one," Jesse said with a proud gleam in his blue eyes.

  His brother Zach walked into the room and sat across from the couch on the hearth. "His dark blonde hair and blue eyes stood in contrast to Jesse's darker hair and complexion. Jesse was almost as tall as Zach and just as broad shouldered but Zach was the filled out version of his brother. His shirt sleeves were pushed back to his elbows from washing the dishes. It seemed there wasn't an inch of skin that wasn't covered with ink. Zach was just as handsome as Jesse but in a more classical, stoic sense of the word. He looked as if life had toughened him some while Jesse seemed more carefree, a more whatever life hands me kind of guy. But even with those differences, there was something in their faces that made it easy to see they were brothers. And it was easy to see they were close.

  "Who is the oldest?" I sat back. "Wait. Let me guess. It's Zach."

  "Yep," Jesse stepped in, "and he wears those extra fifteen months like a badge of honor. Thinks it gives him the right to be bossy."

  "No, your stupid choices give me the right to be bossy." Zach cut the sibling rivalry short. Something told me that kind of banter was usual in their house. The glow of the fire showed just how symmetrical his features were. His long beard hid his chin but something told me his jaw line was as perfectly chiseled as the rest of his face. "Not sure where you came from or who—" He hesitated. "Anyhow, it's none of our business. But if you need a place to stay, just until you figure out where you're headed, we've got a spare room. It's kind of dusty, and I can't guarantee there isn't a mouse or two living in the closet, but you're welcome to it."

  "We promise to be civil and not cuss too much," Jesse added.

  "That's unbelievably generous." I stared down at the flannel shirt and socks on my lap and was overcome by their kindness for a moment. God, had it been that long since I'd experienced decency? I lifted my eyes. Each brother looked genuinely concerned. Another emotion I hadn't seen for a long time.

  My throat seized up, and it took me a moment to speak. "Only if I'm not any bother and you must promise to act naturally. I'm not a delicate flower, and I don't mind cussing. I'm pretty good at it myself." I looked back down, mostly because I was nearly overwhelmed by the looks on their faces, such a stark contrast to the cold, hateful, predatory expression I was used to seeing on Bobby's face. Zach and Jesse made Bobby seem that much less human. "Since you're nice enough to allow me to stay a few days, I suppose it's only right that I tell you how I got here." I pulled the coat I was still wearing, Jesse's coat, around me. "It's not an unusual story . . . unfortunately, there are other women with the same problem. I was with a guy since high school, someone who I admired for a long time but who, through bad luck and his life going south once too often, turned into someone I could no longer respect or love. I was no longer safe, emotionally or physically. I was in his jeep and the train was heading through town. In a split second decision, I fled from his grasp." I decided to leave out the embarrassingly gritty details of what’d happened in the jeep. "The next thing I knew I was running alongside a train to catch a ride in an empty boxcar. No money, no warm clothes and no destination. Just me and my newly won sense of freedom."

  I found the courage to look up. They were both listening. Not judging, just listening. Not waiting to interrupt and yell and tell me how stupid I'd been like Bobby would have done. One brother, with his deeply profound gaze, who looked as if he knew the world could kick you when you were down but that courage could always pull you through it. And the other, with his warm, friendly gaze, who looked as if he welcomed life's ups and downs because they made things more interesting.

  Zach sat forward and rested his arms on his thighs. The glow of the fire highlighted just how handsome he was. "After seeing how damn fast you run, I can see you easily outpacing a train."

  I felt a faint smile on my face, something that I hadn't felt too often lately, not even a slight one. "I ran track and cross country in high school. It wasn't something I'd planned on doing, but one day, the physical education teacher, a beastly woman who seemed to hate all children and yet somehow ended up an educator, made us all run a mile for time. I shot past about sixty other girls. When I reached the end, the teacher was standing staring at her stopwatch, looking as if she might fall over from a stroke. She was super nice to me after that. And I quickly discovered that I liked running, so I joined the team." I covered my mouth. "Wow, I'm just rambling on. You poor guys have been so kind, and here I am making you sit through my boring ass story."

  "Nothing boring about you—about it.” Jesse stumbled over his words. "I mean the story. It wasn't boring at all."

  Zach's brow arched. "Smooth, Jes."

  "What about family?" Zach continued. "Do you have someone to call? Someone who'll be worried about you?"

  It was a question I'd been on the receiving end of more than once and one I hated to answer because it always brought up the terrible night when I’d lost my only family. But this time, it would help explain my predicament. "There was just Lolly, the woman who raised me. She's gone now." I had never been able to use the word dead in the same sentence with Lolly. It was too wrong. She wasn't dead. She was gone, stolen from my life forever. "After that, there was just Bobby. Now it seems I'd have been far better off alone."

  Both brothers sat quietly as I unveiled the pathetic life I'd left behind. "You two are lucky you have each other. I always wanted a sibling, someone I could count on to be a forever friend. Jesse mentioned you've been here, in Tanglewood, since day one."

  Zach wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead and got up from the hearth and the heat of the fire. "You might say we are Tanglewood. Our great-grandfather built this cabin and some of the town. He was a tradesman, a blacksmith, who eventually became known for being a master bladesmith."

  "A bladesmith?" I asked.

  "He made knives and swords." Jesse took up the topic. "Zach and I are trained in the family trade too. We spend most of our workday out in that brick building making blades. A lot of the locals are like us, artists and craftsman who learned a trade passed through generations."

  Zach picked up another log from the crate. "The town fell on hard times during my granddad's generation. The internet helped connect us to the rest of the world, and it turned out the rest of the world was interested in handmade goods. We ship Coltrane knives and swords all over the world. Our dad was a master too. He raised us by himself after my mom decided Tanglewood and this cabin weren't part of her dream."

  "What a cool place to grow up, a town built by your great-granddad and filled with creative people whose families worked right alongside yours. Did you say Coltrane? The first place I went to was a place called Coltrane Park. The boxcar was lacking in modern comforts, namely bathrooms."

  Jesse laughed. "Impressive park, eh?"

  "It was smal
l but, still, you have a park named after you. How cool is that?"

  Zach dropped the wood on the fire. The flames renewed with enthusiasm. "There's also Coltrane Cemetery just a few blocks west of the park."

  "A cemetery is a little less cool than a park, but most people go their whole lives never leaving their names on anything but a grave marker."

  Jesse laughed. It was a deep, soothing sound. "She's got a good point."

  I smoothed my hand over the flannel shirt on my lap. It felt velvety soft under my palm, as if it had been worn many times. I had nothing, not even a pair of panties, other than the ones I was wearing.

  "I'm starting to feel very silly. I left home so suddenly. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but now I'm not so sure."

  "It wasn't silly if you were in danger," Zach reminded me.

  "Hey, you know what?" Jesse looked over at Zach. "I'll bet Sherry has some clothes that'll fit her." Jesse turned to me. "She is tall and thin like you. I know she'd be happy to lend you some things. She's the kind of person who'd give you the shirt off her back, which is just what we need." He pulled out his phone. "I'll call her right now."

  Zach sat casually on the spot that Jesse had just vacated. "If you wanted to take a bath or shower, we've got both. My mom had the tub added a year after she married my dad. Said if she had to live in a cabin, she had to at least have a tub. If you're interested."

  "Yes, absolutely. I would love to wash off the boxcar dirt."

  He stood up, and I was keenly aware of just how built he was as his shadow loomed over the couch. "I'll show you the way."

  I placed the flannel shirt and socks on the couch and peeled off the coat as I stood. My t-shirt was still damp enough that it clung to me. The sticky wet shirt didn't escape Zach's notice either, but he quickly pulled his gaze away. Something told me Jesse would have been more brazen in surveying my wet t-shirt. They were two very different brothers, but each had qualities that made them easy to like.

  I could hear Jesse in the kitchen, talking on the phone, as Zach led me down a short hallway. His big arms looked even more powerful covered as they were in tattoos. He pushed open the first door on the right. Considering the size of the front room I'd just left, the bathroom was far bigger than I expected. And just like Zach had promised, a shiny white tub with chrome fixtures sat in the farthest corner, right beneath a window and a stained glass light pendant.

  Zach scooted inside ahead of me and swept up an armful of dirty towels and clothes and then shoved them into the straw hamper sitting between the sink and the toilet. "I apologize for the fact that both Jesse and I are total slobs."

  "No, it's fine. It's perfect."

  "I'll go get you a clean towel." He turned to leave.

  "Hey, Zach—"

  Under the bathroom lights, his eyes were nearly as blue as the cornflower blue tile on the walls. "Yes?"

  "He did a good job. You said your dad raised you guys by himself. He did a good job."

  His smile was far more subdued than Jesse's but just as sexy. "He'd be glad to hear that." He closed the door behind him.

  I walked to the mirror over the vanity, almost afraid to look. My skin was the pallor of bleached bread flour and dark rings circled my eyes. The only color was the ugly red hickey Bobby had left me with. The hideous mark would fade soon, but the hideous memories would stay with me forever.

  I walked to the tub, turned the handle and watched water flow into the white porcelain bath.

  7

  Jesse

  Sherry pulled her car up to the house. I walked out onto the back stoop to meet her. The rain had stopped, but the clouds still hung low in the sky, blotting out any light from the stars and moon. I wasn't over-exaggerating when I told Joelle that Sherry was the type to give you the shirt off her back. After I'd told Sherry what had happened, she offered to bring up some clothes even before I had a chance to ask her.

  Sherry's thick, dark red hair was piled up in a messy bun on top of her head as she climbed out of the car and walked to the trunk.

  "Sherry, in case I haven't told you this enough, you are fucking awesome."

  "Jesse, my love, I'm pretty sure that is something you can tell me as much as you like without me getting tired of hearing it." She lifted a duffle bag out of the trunk and handed it to me to carry into the house. "I was glad to bring this stuff anyhow. Anthony has been bitching at me to clean out my closet. Poor guy basically only has a sliver of space to use for his suits." She tromped behind me up the porch steps and into the house.

  Zach leaned out of the kitchen with a beer in his hand, which he offered to Sherry.

  She waved it off. "Nah, I'm good. So, where is your guest? I brought a bunch of things she can try on."

  "I'll go let her know you're here." I headed down the hallway to the spare bedroom. Before I reached the door, I heard Joelle quietly singing. I stopped, not wanting my footsteps to drown out the honey sweet sound, a sound that I wouldn't soon forget.

  Sherry's laughter in the front room reminded me that she was waiting. The door to the spare bedroom was ajar. As my knuckles rapped on it, the door pushed farther open.

  Joelle's back was to me as she pulled my flannel shirt onto her shoulders. The light bulb in the room was dimmed by the collection of dust on the lampshade, but the bruise running across her back couldn't be missed. I found myself tightening my fists as I imagined myself pounding the asshole who'd hurt her into the ground.

  Joelle yanked the shirt shut and spun around. I pushed the anger from my expression and loosened my fists. Me strutting and posturing like an angry bull was the last thing she needed.

  She smoothed her long brown hair back, off her face, a face that was as flawless as it was interesting to look at. I didn't need to see her on a big screen or in a crowded room to know she was a scene stealer. It made me feel just a little better knowing that at least the fucker had lost something so irreplaceable, he'd live with the regret forever.

  Joelle buttoned the shirt and then leaned over to look at the big socks on her feet. On me, they were ankle socks, but she'd been able to pull them up to mid calf. The shirt I gave her hung to mid thigh, and the shoulders drooped closer to her elbows than her shoulders. The ends of the sleeves swallowed her hands completely. She held out her arms. As the movement lifted the hem of the shirt higher on her thighs, I had to remind myself to take a breath. The words 'how much trouble can she be' coasted through my head until her silky voice snapped me from my thoughts.

  "How do I look?"

  I held back my true answer and sputtered out, "Fine. I guess the shirt is even bigger than I expected."

  She wrapped her arms around herself, again giving me enough glimpse of her smooth, lean thighs that I couldn't pull my gaze from them. Even knowing damn well I should.

  "It's so warm and soft. Nothing better than a well-worn flannel shirt. Guess you made exactly the right choice."

  "Considering well-worn flannel makes up most of my closet, I was pretty secure in making the right selection. Heard you singing earlier."

  Her long fingers flew to her mouth in embarrassment. "I didn't hear you coming."

  "I'm not all that surprised to hear that voice coming out of—" My gaze drifted over her again. "Well, it was nice."

  She held back a smile, but the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her. They were the kind of eyes that turned different shades of brown according to the light. In front of the fire, they'd been almost amber, and now, under the dusty light, they were a chestnut brown, made even darker by the curtain of long lashes.

  I still hadn't gotten the bruise out of my mind. "Joelle, do you need some aspirin or something?"

  "For what?" she asked, confused. Then her cheeks darkened as it seemed to dawn on her. "Oh, I guess it's pretty bad, huh? Can't really see it myself, but I definitely haven't forgot it was back there. Still, no, I don't need any aspirin. Thank you."

  Joelle leaned her head to look at something behind me. I turned around to Sherry's questioning br
ow. "Well?" Sherry lifted the duffle to remind me. "Get out so we girls can get down to trying on these clothes."

  I lifted up my hands. "I'm going. I'm going." I turned and looked back to Joelle. "By the way, this is Sherry. She's real nice once you look past the obvious personality flaws."

  Sherry popped me on the shoulder.

  "Just kidding. She's pretty damn close to perfect." I curled my arm around Sherry's shoulders and pulled her against me to plant a kiss on her head.

  Sherry patted my chest. "That's better. Now get out."

  I walked out, and Sherry snapped the door shut behind me.

  I headed down the hallway and found Zach cradling a beer at the kitchen table. Bear was sleeping at his feet, stretched out from one side of the table to the next.

  I stared down at the cratered and nicked pine table. "Shit, is this what the kitchen table looked like underneath all the garbage? I haven't seen it in a while. And I see we've got a sink too. Who the fuck knew?" I reached for the second bottle of beer Zach had sitting in front of him and sat in the chair across from him.

  Zach lifted the bottle. "Guess we have to try and tone down our pig habits some, now that we've got a house guest."

  "How long do you think she'll stay?" I asked it casually, but the thought of her picking up and leaving fast depressed me. Maybe it was just because we didn't get that many new faces in Tanglewood or maybe it was nice to have something different from the usual routine or maybe it was because Joelle wasn't the type of person you wanted to just pop in and out of your life without really getting to know her.

  Zach shrugged as he gulped his beer. He placed the bottle back on the table. "Just hope she doesn't give up and go back to that jerk she left behind."

  I gripped the bottle hard as I picked it up. "She has a long, dark bruise on her back."