Christina giggled, and that relieved the tension a little bit. But she stopped and all that tension came flowing right back in again. “God, Hazel, I hope you’re right.”
It surprised me that Christina cared that much for Boone and was that worried about him. I knew she found him attractive, but as far as I knew, they didn’t really spend a lot of time together. I hadn’t been home a bunch over the last few months as my project really ramped up. Maybe something between them had changed. Maybe I’d missed something.
“So Christina, about you and Boone—”
“Oh Hazel, don’t even worry about that right now,” she said. “Just worry about finding your brother.”
“What do you mean? I’m not worried, I’m just curious,” I commented. “Is there something going on between the two of you? Anything I should know about?”
Christina fell silent for a second, which was all the answer I’d needed.
“There is!” I shouted in glee. I jumped up and off the sofa, grinning so wide, it almost hurt. I heard her groan on the other end of the line, which made me laugh harder.
“You and my brother? Wow, girl.”
“Hush,” she said. “It’s not like that. I mean, well, we were headed that direction, but then he pulled back. We had a fight, and now he’s gone, and I’m worried I blew it. But even more so, I’m worried something happened to him,” she sighed. “He hasn’t been himself the last few weeks. I didn’t know why, but he just kind of changed. Ever since that actress friend of his died, he’s just been different. I thought maybe there was something going on between them, and, well— yeah, I blew it.”
“Wait, what? You think my brother and Daphne Lambert were together?” I couldn’t hold back the laughter. “No way. He’s not into women like that.”
“They were close, though,” Christina said. “And after she died, he really changed. He pulled away, and it was almost like he was avoiding me.”
“Christina, he was probably grieving the loss of someone he’d worked with. Maybe somebody he considered a friend,” I said. “I know my brother. There’s no way in hell he and Daphne were a thing. Especially if he was dating you. My brother is many things, but he’s not a cheater.”
“I know that, it’s just hard sometimes, you know,” she said “He’s around all these gorgeous women all day and night. Why would he want someone like me?”
“Um, maybe because you’re gorgeous too?” I told her, sitting back down on the sofa. “And you’re smart and all around awesome.”
My best friend needed me. Sure, my brother also needed me, but I knew he was out there somewhere, dealing with the loss of someone close to him and a fight with his girlfriend. Wait, was Christina his girlfriend? She hadn’t said they were exclusive, but it sounded pretty serious to me. At least it was judging by how shaken up Christina was about the whole thing.
Christ, how did all this happen with me right there, living amongst them? Yeah, my job really sucked the life out of me, a bit too much sometimes, but I didn’t think I was that completely clueless and unobservant.
“I don’t know, and let’s not worry about my feelings. I’m just worried about him,” Christina said. “Let’s just focus on figuring out where he is and if he’s okay.”
“He’s probably pouting somewhere, drinking his feelings a bit. Once he feels better and has his head right again, he’ll come crawling back and the two of you will make up.”
“I sure hope so,” Christina agreed. “And Hazel?”
“Yes?”
“You’re not mad at me for dating your brother?”
“Why would I be mad at you? I’m happy for the two of you and I’m hoping we can find Boone to get you two back together again soon,” I beamed. “You know I’m dying for some nieces and nephews, right?”
Christina chuckled. “Hold up there, you’re moving a bit too fast. Way too fast, actually.”
“I know, I know,” I said. “Just trying to lighten the mood. But no, I’m not upset at you in the least. I’m only a little sad that I missed all this happening right in front of my eyes.”
“You’ve been so busy with filming these days, we didn’t want to bother you. He was worried you might be upset, considering the past and all.”
Yeah, the past. Speaking of which, my past was now directly next door to me. Within easy walking distance. The past was so close, I was sure it could hear me talking on the phone. I sighed. It seemed inevitable that I’d run into them at some point.
“Nah, we were just kids back then,” I said. “And he was right to tell me to keep my distance from Wyatt and Ryder. They’re trouble. Nothing but trouble.”
“Boone says they’re not as bad as you make them out to be,”
“Boone is also not a woman, and he’s never really cared for our stepsister, so his opinion is a bit biased, I’m afraid.”
“Maybe so,” Christina said. “Either way, I’m just happy you’re not angry with us. We weren’t that serious yet, but honestly— and God, this sounds terribly corny and stupid to say— I thought I was falling in love with him. I told him before he disappeared.”
My heart sunk. God, there’s nothing worse than confessing your love to someone only for them to disappear and make you question if they felt the same for you. Once I found Boone, I was going to kick his ass for this. If he didn’t feel the same way for Christina, at least he could man up and tell her the truth instead of just running away to avoid her. She deserved a hell of a lot more than that, and I’d make him see it if I had to beat it into him.
“Well, we’re going to find him, Christina. I promise you that, and when we do, I’m going to kick his ass for worrying us. Got it?”
“Got it,” she said, sounding a bit nervous.
My brother wasn’t an asshole. He wasn’t a dog and he didn’t use or mistreat women. That had never been his way. The idea of him stringing Christina along if they had started to get close, didn’t sound like Boone at all. Something about his sudden lack of communication didn’t sit right with me. He wouldn’t just disappear like this over some woman confessing feelings to him, even if he didn't feel the same way.
That wasn’t Boone. That wasn’t my brother. Now I was worried.
Ryder
“Fucking rich people, I tell ya,” I scoffed, taking a seat on the sofa.
It felt damn good to be back home, back in Colorado and away from the ridiculousness of Los Angeles. The pace of life was slower, less hectic, and mellower than the chaos that was Southern California. My brother Wyatt nodded in agreement.
“I don’t know how anyone fucking lives there, man,” I agreed.
“I don’t either,” Wyatt nodded as he handed me a beer.
I held the cold can to my forehead, relishing the coolness on my skin. He took a seat in the chair across from me, looking as worn out as I felt. He was just over a year older than me and we looked so much alike most people used to think we were twins. Wyatt was planned, and I was the happy accident that happened when our parents least expected it.
Not that I was ever made to feel like a mistake. I was obviously loved, and my parents always said they wanted more kids eventually. I just came a little sooner than expected. But they always said I was a blessing in disguise.
It was nice having a brother so close in age growing up, though. Wyatt was the quieter, more reserved of the two of us. He was always talking me into doing the right thing and calming me down when I let myself get all worked up— something that happened fairly frequently. He helped keep me out of trouble plenty of times when we were growing up. I don’t know what I’d have done without my big brother.
We both had dark brown hair and brown eyes, but there were plenty of differences between us too. Wyatt’s hair was a tad darker than mine, closer to black than brown, but only the really observant noticed. His eyes were darker too— more of a true brown, while mine could almost be described as golden. He took more after our mom; I took after our dad. May they rest in peace.
“I can’t believe he
was really screwing his secretary. How cliché can you get?” I asked, shaking my head and taking a long pull from the bottle. “And with a wife like Andrea Chung at home waiting for him? Some men don’t deserve good women. I mean seriously, how big of an idiot can you be?”
Our most recent case was a common one. A rich model, Andrea, had hired us because she suspected her CEO husband of cheating. It was an open and shut case that didn’t take us all that long to crack. Her hubby, David, hadn’t even tried to hide the affair he was having. He just assumed his wife was too dumb to catch on.
His wife was one of the hottest models in the country. She was most guy’s wet dream. But she wasn't just legs and ass. She was smarter than many gave her credit for. No wonder she was running her own fashion house now. She clearly didn’t need her ex, and we were more than happy to provide the proof she needed for her to get closure and move on with her life.
It was an easy case, but just being in Los Angeles took a lot out of us. Both Wyatt and myself preferred our mountain sanctuary, the place where we’d grown up and lived our entire lives. The city drained us in a thousand different ways. But being home, amongst the trees and wildlife, never failed to recharge our batteries and rejuvenate our spirits. You couldn’t pay either of us enough to consider moving away from our small, mountain town.
“A lot of men don’t deserve most of anything they have,” Wyatt said, staring off into space as if he was deep in thought. “It’s an unjust world, Ryder, but what can you do?”
“Not much, really. Besides help these pricks get their asses exposed when we can,” I said with a sly smile.
I loved what we did. It was nice helping people get some semblance of justice. Nine times out of ten, when we were called in, the client hiring us was right. It was rare they were simply being paranoid about the reasons they called us. People needed to trust their gut more often. But in cases where it wasn’t completely clear— or when you needed proof for the divorce— well, that’s where we came in.
Of course, if people trusted their own instincts more often, my brother and I would be out of work and that would kind of suck.
I looked around at our home, which was left to us when our parents died. Sometimes it felt like everything had been given to us. Sometimes it felt like we had it too easy.
“Do you think we deserve everything we have?”
Wyatt also looked around, taking in our home, seeming to think about the question. “Probably not,” he said. “But no one else really deserves it either.”
He was right. Because the people who’d worked their asses off to build our home, which was a cabin the size of some mansions in Hollywood, were gone. Dead. And at least Wyatt and I did our best to honor their memories and kept the place up in a way they would’ve wanted it kept up.
Honestly, it felt empty without our parents. With just the two of us rattling around the big old place, that feeling of loss and emptiness was especially keen. But neither one of us was going anywhere. We often joked that if we got married, we better marry best friends or sisters, because they’d have to get used to all of us living together. There were too many damn memories in the house to give up so easily, and on top of that, we’d built a life we were comfortable with. No reason to shake things up just for the sake of shaking things up.
We kept the goats and the chickens out back, and of course, we had horses. Our mother had always loved horses. Her old girl had passed away shortly after our parents died, and I remembered being pretty broken up about it. It was like losing a part of my mother all over again, making that pain fresh and vibrant once more. But we still had several horses from her horse’s lineage, so her legacy lived on.
As did our parents’ legacy.
Well, sort of. It wasn’t like Wyatt and I were dating or planning on having any babies of our own to carry on the family name. Neither one of us went out all that much. But it wasn’t like there was much to do in our podunk town anyway. And when we were working, we were strictly business. Even if some of our female clients came onto us— and that happened more often than you would think— we always turned them down. We never mixed business with pleasure. That was just one of those unwritten, unspoken rules we both adhered to.
“I better check on the horses,” I muttered.
We had help with the animals when we were away on business, but I always stressed about leaving them behind. I was an animal lover. I couldn't help it. I might take after my daddy mostly, but there were still elements of my mom in me too. I liked to think I got the best of both of them.
Wyatt nodded, only half listening. He was deep in thought about something as he often was. I left him to his thoughts and his beer and walked out back. Our house was fairly large, so I had to walk down the long hallway that led into the kitchen. On my way out, I passed our parents’ old room. They had a nice suite in the back of the house that opened out to the yard. Since their passing, Wyatt and I had hardly entered their room. It almost felt sacrilegious. Mostly, we had people come in and clean it now and then, but we didn’t want to disturb their things. It had been ten years since we’d lost them, and while a lot had changed, a lot had stayed the same. Their room was virtually the same today as it was when they were still alive.
I stepped out into our backyard, which was more like stepping out into the woods since our property line extended about as far as the eye could see. Except to the right of us, off in the distance a ways, I could see the old Hudson place. It stood mostly empty these days except for when Boone stopped by for a break from the big city and his big city life. But Mr. and Mrs. Hudson were gone, enjoying their retirement in Florida. Wyatt and I often looked after the place for them when Boone wasn’t around since we were the only neighbors for miles.
As lost in thought as I was, something still caught my eye when I glanced towards the Hudson’s house. There was a shed on the back of their property, right along our fence line with them. It used to hold lawn and gardening equipment back in the day, probably still did. Nobody was there full time, and I couldn’t imagine that somebody broke in and redecorated the place.
I remembered when we were kids, we used to hide out there after sneaking out late at night. It was far enough from both of our houses that our parents wouldn’t hear us laughing and goofing off, but was still close enough that we didn’t risk getting lost in the big, scary woods— something we didn’t explore until much later.
As far as I knew, the shed had been sealed up for ages now. With a landscaping crew coming by a few times a month, there was no need for the lawn equipment, and to keep the raccoons and other forest critters from making a home in there, Mr. Hudson had sealed up all the windows and doors.
Except the door on the shed closest to our property wasn’t sealed anymore. It was cracked open; the wood that had sealed it shut had been torn off. There was no way an animal could have done that.
Alarm bells went off in my head, and I feared squatters had taken up residence at their place. It wasn’t an unheard of occurrence— even all the way up there in the mountains. Maybe even more so, since the sparse population up that way allowed squatters and bums to inhabit empty places with little interference from the police. I always carried a knife on me, but I double checked that it was in the sheath at my side. Grabbing a rifle would probably be overkill.
It was still daylight, so if someone or something was inside that shed, it would see me coming from a mile off in any direction. Not that there was any way for it to get out. There was only one way in and out of that old shed, and I never took my eyes off it. As I walked toward it, I kept my hand on my knife, just in case. I had no idea what was in there, but I was damned sure going to find out.
As I moved as quietly as I could, I heard nothing other than the birds and the wind rustling the leaves around me. No sound came from inside the shed, and there was no movement. I hopped the fence easily due to my height and physical fitness and continued stealthily on. My stomach tight, my shoulders tense, I made my way to the door and peered inside. The old wo
oden door was just barely hanging on by the hinges, so I pulled it open easily and stepped inside to look for any signs of tampering.
It looked like the same old shed to me. Not much had changed.
A noise caught my attention outside the shed, and I reached for my knife, quickly pulling it from the sheath. Moving on light feet, I moved beside the door, hiding myself from view if someone tried to enter. Another sound came from outside, and I felt my gut clench. Footsteps. A branch cracking under the weight of some heavy feet. Whoever it was, they were careless. Maybe they didn’t expect anybody to be there, but they weren’t even trying to be quiet. And they were headed my way. The creaky, wooden door opened, a shadow fell into the shed’s interior, and instinct took over. I stepped out in front of the person, knife in plain view, ready to get on with it.
Only to come face-to-face with my brother.
“What the fuck, man?” he said, frowning at me and my knife. “You think you’re Rambo or some shit?”
I put the knife away. “Sorry. When I went out back, I noticed the door was no longer boarded up. Thought there might be some squatter taking up residence in their shed. What are you doing?”
“I saw you headed over here, wanted to see what was up,” he shrugged. He ran a hand through his thick, dark brown beard as his eyes took in our surroundings, and I swear I saw the wave of nostalgia crashing over him. He was still frowning, his expression pinched and sour.
“Lot of memories here,” he said. “Lots of history.”
“Yeah, tell me about it,” I muttered, shoving my hands in my pockets. “Too fucking many, if you ask me.”
“You still miss her?” he asked me, his eyes narrowing and jaw clenching.
“Of course. Don’t you?”
“Of course,” he replied. “Every fucking day.”
“But she made it perfectly clear that she wanted nothing to do with us,” I said. “Nothing we can really do about it.”
Her Mountain Brothers Page 3
