"By squeezing zits?"
"Hey, somebody's got to do it. His dad is a bone surgeon. Does football knees and stuff.
They live in Houston in this gorgeous house
that one of the Oilers used to own. It has a pond with ducks and swans in the backyard.
Everybody in the family has his own BMW."
"Good. Marry the guy so you'll no longer be a liability to us."
He was on the receiving end of another dirty look. "That's almost exactly what Lucky said."
"Great minds think alike."
Sage had accelerated her academic curriculum enough to graduate a semester ahead of schedule. Chase hadn't made it to her commencement.
He apologized for that now.
"Forget it. You didn't miss anything. I looked terrible in a cap and gown. Anyway, I immediately enrolled in graduate school."
"Have you decided what you're going to do with your expensive degree? Or is being Mrs.
Doctor Travis whatever going to be enough for you?"
"Heck no. Being Mrs. anybody wouldn't be enough for me. I'm never going to be totally dependent on any man. I want a career like
Devon. She's managed to blend her work with a happy marriage. Very happy, if the silly grin on Lucky's face is any indication. Even after two years of marriage, our brother is still besotted with his wife."
"I can understand that," Chase said introspectively.
Sage either didn't hear him or chose to let his remark pass without comment.
"Anyway, I haven't quite made up my mind yet what I want to do. I majored in business.
I'm taking graduate courses that could apply to any field."
"Corn field? Cotton field?"
"Do you want another broken rib?" she threatened.
He chuckled. "Whatever field it is, I hope it makes you rich and self-supporting."
"Amen. I want to become independently wealthy like your friend Marcie Johns."
"Is she?"
"What, wealthy? She must be. She wins all kinds of awards. Realtor of the Year. Businesswoman of the Year. Things like that. Her picture is in the paper just about every month for selling the most houses even in this depression or recession or whatever it is that we're in."
"Business major. Right," he said sarcastically.
Sage ignored that crack. "Mother said Ms.
Johns looked positively radiant yesterday."
"Radiant?"
"Which I think is remarkable considering that she had a difficult time recovering from the accident. I think she had to have some plastic surgery done to cover a scar on her forehead. I heard some women in the beauty parlor speculating on whether or not she had had an eye job and a chin tuck while she was at it.
"She's… what? Your age, right? Thirty-five?
Isn't that about the time everything starts sliding downhill? For women, I mean. Damn you men. Your looks improve with age. That's
one of many grievances I'm going to bring up with God when I get to heaven. It isn't fair that y'all get better looking while we go to pot.
"But I don't believe Ms. Johns had cosmetic surgery," Sage continued. "Her self-esteem appears to be well cemented. I doubt it would be shaken by a few character lines in her face. Anyway, why would she bother? She's already gorgeous."
"Gorgeous? Goosey?" Chase was stunned.
He would never have attached that adjective to Goosey Johns, but then women had different criteria for beauty than men did.
"Her hair is to die for."
Chase barked an incredulous laugh. "It looks like a struck match."
"What do you know?" Sage said with scathing condescension. "Other women pay hundreds for hennas that color."
"For what?"
"Here we are. Lucky's here, so I'll just drop you off. I promised Mother I'd run errands for her so she wouldn't have to get out today. Pat called her this morning and advised her to stay indoors."
"How is Pat?"
Pat Bush was the county sheriff. Two years earlier he'd been instrumental in clearing Lucky of a false arson charge, which had eventually brought Lucky and Devon together. For as long as the Tyler siblings could remember,
Sheriff Bush had been their family friend.
"Pat never changes," Sage said. "But ever
since Tanya died in that car crash, he's skittish about traffic accidents and stays after Mother to be doubly careful when she drives."
Hearing Tanya's name sent a little dart of pain through Chase's heart, but he smiled at his sister and thanked her for the lift.
"Chase,"' Sage called to him as he ducked under the porch roof to get out of the rain. He looked back.
She had rolled down her window and was smiling at him through the opening.
"Welcome back. "
His sister was more mature and insightful than he had given her credit for. Her words carried a double meaning. He formed a fake pistol with his hand and fired it at her. Laughing, she put her car in reverse and backed out to turn around. They waved to each other as she drove off.
His stomach roiled with the memory of standing on this same porch and watching Tanya and Marcie drive away that fateful afternoon.
He had waved good-bye then, too.
Putting aside the unpleasant memory, he stepped into the office. Though he hadn't been there in months, nothing had changed. The company office hadn't been modernized since his grandfather had occupied it.
It stayed untidy, cluttered, and unabashedly masculine.
Even the smells were the same, from the mustiness of old maps and geological charts to the aroma of fresh coffee. The room's cozy warmth seemed to embrace him like a fond relative he hadn't seen in a while.
Lucky was bent over the scarred wooden
desk, the fingers of one hand buried up to the first knuckle in his dark-blond hair and the others drumming out a tattoo on top of the littered desk. He raised his head when Chase walked in, his surprise evident.
"Looks serious," Chase said.
"You don't know how serious." Lucky glanced beyond his brother as though expecting someone to follow him in. "How'd you get here?"
"Sage." Chase removed his shearling jacket and shook the rain off it. "She came by the apartment this morning."
"I nearly paddled her when she showed up last night. I hated to think of her driving all that way alone in this weather."
"I would have hated it, too, if I'd known about it. But I was glad to see her. She's…" he searched for the right word and came up short.
"Right," Lucky said. "She's a grown-up, not a kid any longer. But she's still a spoiled brat."
"Who's Travis? Seems I'm the only member of the family who hasn't had the pleasure."
Lucky winced. "Pleasure my ass. He's a preppie wimp. The only reason she likes him is because she can lead him around by the nose."
"If he marries her, he'll have his hands full."
"You can say that again. We played so many tricks on her when she was little, she learned to fight back.
I'm about half scared of her myself."
The brothers laughed. Their laughter turned
poignant, until both became uncomfortable with their rising emotions.
"God, it's good to have you back," Lucky said huskily. "I missed you, big brother."
"Thanks," Chase said, clearing his throat.
"I only hope I can stay. If it gets to be too much… what I mean is, I can't promise…"
Lucky patted the air with his hand, indicating that he understood. "I don't expect you to jump in with both feet. Test the waters. Take your time." Chase nodded. After a short but awkward silence, Lucky offered him a cup of coffee.
"No thanks."
"How are you feeling this morning?"
He answered dourly, "Like a damn Brahman did the two-step on my chest."
"Which is no better than you deserve for getting on one in the first place." He gestured toward Chase's chest. "Think you're going to be okay?"
"Sure," Chase said dismissively. "They've got me bound up so tight those cracked ribs wouldn't move in an earthquake. I'll be fine."
He nodded toward the paperwork scattered across the desk. "How's business?"
"What business?"
"That bad?"
"Worse."