Into the Nothing (Broken Outlaw Series Book 1) (5 page)

I light it, take a drag, long and slow, and release the billows of smoke in little O’s. Rowdy hops at my feet for his morning chow. I take another drag and feel a tingling sensation trail down my back and arms.

“Alright, buddy, I got ya.”

My 1970 Ford F-100 is loaded with most of my belongings, which equates to two military-style A-bags, my guitar and a backpack. Not much, but it’s enough. Rowdy relieves himself one final time before our five-minute trek to Watson Wineries. The hangover has subsided a bit, and I silently thank the weed gods for that.

With a tip of my Browning cap to the Sunshine Valley Motel, I load Rowdy onto the bench seat and hop in alongside him. And with that, my adventure in Truman Valley truly begins.

It’s not hard to spot Watson Wineries. As Jack stated last night, it’s the first thing you see. You can’t help but notice miles of grapevines in neat rows that act as a gateway to the town of Truman Valley.

Large wrought iron gates give way to a never-ending gravel driveway. The two-story, white-as-snow farmhouse with navy blue shutters—hand-built by Jack’s father, as I was told last night—centers the endless rows of grapevines around it.

I park, open the door, and step out of my F-100 with bags in hand when Rowdy comes rushing out behind me. He nearly knocks me over in the process.

“Well hello, Mr. Evans, you’re late,” Paige says, squatting down to welcome Rowdy as he runs into her arms. “Aw, what a beautiful little baby you are.”

Another girl walks right past Paige and Rowdy and she stops just before me . She extends her hand and smiles weakly. “I’m Brandi.”

“I’m Xander. Nice to meet you, Brandi.” I shake her hand gently and release it, my eyes barely leaving Paige. “Late? I thought your dad said to show up at nine? That was tough enough as it is.”

“I know. I’m just messing with you.”

The soft smile she gives makes my heart buzz. Perfectly pearl-white teeth are set behind lips ideal for kissing. Decked out in short shorts and a tank top, she’s wearing her hair curly today, her golden waves pushing the limits of a hair tie. I find myself even more attracted to her like this.

“He’s been up since like six, though. I don’t know how he does it. I woke up in a whole lot of pain this morning.”

“Yeah. Tell me about it. Well, if you guys want, you can take Rowdy here inside while I’m working. Is it okay if I throw my stuff in the guesthouse?”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re fine. Door’s unlocked. Dad’s in the field and said just to meet him out by the barn,” Paige says as she leads Rowdy to the house. Brandi reluctantly follows.

“Enjoy your first day of work, Xander,” Paige says over her shoulder. “Don’t you worry about Rowdy here. He’s in good hands.” The three of them head through the front door, closing it behind them and leaving me with the quiet countryside to figure out what exactly just happened. Two minutes in and I’ve already managed to get my dog stolen. It’s not surprising he’s the star of the show, that’s usually how it works out, but I figured I’d get a little more attention at least.

I head back to the truck and unload it. I lug my baggage up to to the guesthouse and drop them off inside. I’m taken back by the size of the place, which looks like a mansion compared to the motel room I stayed in. There’s a kitchen and bathroom all the way in the back, a bed and vanity just before it, and living room with two loveseats and a TV when you first walk in the door. I could definitely get comfortable here.

When I’m done exploring the new place a little bit I head to a large maroon barn with paint chipping at the corners, set back a bit in the middle of the vineyard. Jack is huddled under the hood of a tractor, a grease rag tucked into the side of his overalls. His arms are buried in the engine.

“Jack, it’s Xander,” I call out. I hear a thud from Jack’s head meeting the hard steel hood. He lets out a groan and then a quiet laugh.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” I tell him. “I thought you heard me coming.”

“No problem at all. You’d think I would have, as quiet as it is. I think I’m still in a daze from last night.” He shakes his head and smiles. “Or maybe I’m just getting old.”

“Yeah, to be honest, I woke up and thought maybe your offer was a dream.”

“Nossir. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t drunk as all hell by the time my head hit the pillow last night. I definitely need some help out here,” he says, then hesitates for a second before continuing, “and I like you.”

Flattered, but not knowing what to say, I mumble, “I like you all too, sir.”

“Good. Well then, we should get along just fine. It won’t be terribly hard work, but they’ll be long days. I’ll pay you handsomely for your assistance, and I hope you’ll at least stay with us until mid-summer. And remember, just call me Jack.”

“That sounds great, Jack. I’m happy to help in any way I can. What kind of help do you need? I’ve done a lot in my life, but not much in the way of winery work.”

“Not a problem. I’ll always be around to direct you, and it won’t take long to get the hang of it. Some of what I’ll need from you goes beyond the winery. Did my wife discuss her business last night? I can’t for the life of me remember.”

I scan my brain but come up short. “I know she mentioned owning a business at the bonfire last night and that Paige works with her. I don’t think she gave specifics though. That, or my drunken memory fails me.”

“Okay, well she and Paige run Watson Metalworks down on Main Street. You see it down there yesterday?” Jack leans back against the tractor, wiping an arm across his sweat-beaded forehead.

“I remember seeing the sign for it…big metal sign welded together, right? Looks badass, like it belongs outside a heavy metal venue or something.”

“That’s the one… My wife is a sculptor. Only I guess it’s sculpting with a twist. She hits junkyards, recycling facilities, pretty much wherever she can find scrap metal. We’re talking anything from screws to forks to bike rims. Whatever she finds that strikes her fancy, and she welds them together into sculptures using those parts. Started it years and years ago as a hobby, but things have really taken off over the last few years. Got so busy that Paige even started working for her when she finished college.”

He stands a bit taller now, pride pouring from his words. It’s the kind of pride a man
should
have for his wife and daughter. It’s endearing, but the only thing I can think of is how in the hell he can be so talkative this early in the morning… and after so much booze the night before.

“Watson Metalworks is one of the most popular stores in at least the nearest five counties and the internet side of the business has just started to explode this year.” He grabs another rag, this one clean, from the other side of his overalls and wipes his forehead again. This man sweats like he’s just finished a marathon. “Listen to me going on and on. Long story long, she often needs my help, which takes me away from the million-and-one things I need to do around here. They get so caught up on a new piece, shipping out orders or dealing with customers, they can’t seem to pull themselves away very often. A few years back, I could complain and make Paige do it, but I’d be lying if I said the store isn’t making as much money as this damn winery by now.”

I can barely make out what he’s saying. My head feels like a helium balloon seconds away from takeoff.

He cocks his head to the side. “You alright, Xander?”

“Yeah, I’m hanging in there.”

“You look like shit.”

“I feel like shit.” I smile—or attempt one, at least—and he laughs.

“Well, if I learned one thing in the Army, it’s that you’ve gotta work through hangovers.” He lifts himself from the tractor, laughing as he passes by. “Let’s go get you acquainted with the winery.”

I
sit back down in the front room, grabbing my now lukewarm coffee and taking a nauseating chug of it. Only the Bailey’s helps keep it down.

Rowdy lies at my feet, rolling onto his back and pawing at me for attention. The sight of it is almost too much to bear. It’s been hard since our pit bull, Scout, died, so it’s nice to have a dog around again.

“Holy fuckin’ balls, bitch. You didn’t say he was
that
hot!” Brandi plops down beside me and swipes a forearm dramatically across her forehead.

“I did tell you!” I reach a hand down and oblige Rowdy’s begging. He laps a tongue against my arm in appreciation.

“You said he was hot, but he’s like…
smoking
hot. Dibs on that shit!” She laughs.

“
Dibs
?” The sound of my voice takes me back a bit. I didn’t mean for it to come off so… territorial.

She curls a lip and shoves me. “You bitch. You like him!” She swats my arm. “I mean, I don’t blame you, but I’d think with your parents right upstairs, he’d be off-limits.”

She’s right, of course.

“I don’t like him! I don’t even know him. He could be a complete creep.” I don’t even believe my own words.

“Okay, Paige, I’ve known you for how long now? Going on fifteen years. I’ve known your parents about the same. Your dad isn’t going to let some creeper near his family, so he must have seen something in him. He’s good at that shit.”

She’s right. My dad has always been protective of our family, especially with my mom and me, and at times, it’s almost too much.