Brooks glanced at the house, then back at me. “It wasn’t always this bad,” he said, sadness filling his voice. “But when your daddy went into hospice… well, it was already in bad shape. Things had gotten much worse than anyone realized, and then it was too late to save it.”
I stared at Brooks, fighting the instinct to berate my father. “So he just let it rot?” I asked, kicking at the gravel beneath my boots. “Perfect. Just perfect.”
Brooks shifted his weight, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your daddy wasn’t exactly in his right mind those last couple years. After the stroke, he couldn’t keep up with things.”
“Stroke?” This was the first I’d heard of it. Not that I’d been listening.
“Yeah,” Brooks nodded. “Bout three years back. Left side of his body was weak. Made it hard for him to work the ranch. I helped when I could, but...” He trailed off, looking uncomfortable.
I felt a strange mix of emotions I didn’t want to examine too closely. “Well, thanks for that, I guess. Not that it made much difference.” I gestured at the wreck of a house.
Brooks’s expression hardened. “He was still your daddy.”
“No,” I said flatly. “He stopped being that a long time ago.”
An uncomfortable silence stretched between us. The wind picked up, whistling through the broken windows of the house like it was sighing, or maybe it was the ghosts of our family taking one last breath. Either way, I didn’t care anymore.
“So, what’s your plan?” Brooks finally asked. “You stayin’ or sellin’?”
“Sellin’,” I said without hesitation. “Fast as I can find a buyer stupid enough to take it.”
Brooks nodded slowly, like he’d expected that answer. “Where you stayin’ tonight?”
I hadn’t thought that far ahead, honestly. “Figured I’d head back to town, find a motel.”
“Sagebrush Inn closed down last year,” Brooks said. “Closest motel’s forty miles out in Oakridge.”
“Shit,” I muttered. The sun was already dipping toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple. I was tired from the drive, and the idea of another hour on the road wasn’t appealing.
“You could...” Brooks started, then seemed to think better of it.
“What?” I pressed.
“I’ve got a couch you can crash on,” he said, not quite meeting my eye. “It ain’t much, but it’s clean and warm. Besides, there’s bad weather on the way. Best to be someplace with a functioning roof.”
I was surprised by the offer. Brooks and I had been close once, sure, but that was a lifetime ago. Before everything went to hell. Before I left.
“I don’t need charity,” I said automatically.
Brooks scoffed. “It ain’t charity. It’s family.” He paused, then added, “Besides, we should talk about the property line issue.”
“Property line issue?”
“Yeah.” Brooks adjusted his hat. “Your daddy sold me fifty acres five years back, but the paperwork got messed up. Boundary line’s all wrong on the deed.”
Great. Another complication. “Fine,” I sighed. “One night. Just till I figure things out.”
Brooks nodded, then headed back to his truck. “Follow me,” he called over his shoulder. Then he stopped, turning back to me. “There’s just one more thing.”
I paused, letting out a sigh. “What is it?”
Brooks gave me a small smile. “I’m engaged now.”
Chapter 3
Mike
I’d never been through a tornado before. And I prayed to God that I would never have to go through one again.
