Both Hughes brothers look at me like I just grew a third tit in the middle of my forehead, semi-interested but mostly horrified.
“Why don’t you go get the tools,” Shane finally says.
Basically, what just happened is that I got a pat on the head and a nudge in the back. I could throw a hissy-fit. I could do that. I’m entitled to it since most of the manual labor here has gotten done for years by yours truly. But why would I?
Lose the battle, win the war.
As long as it benefits the animals, they can sideline me all they want. This repair job would’ve cost double if not triple had I hired a contractor. And I’m already sweating the bill for the materials. I haven’t seen it yet and I’m not looking forward to it.
A few minutes later, I drop the tool box at their feet and step back. I gotta hand it to them, they do not mess around when it comes to construction.
“Blue,” Shane jerks his head in the direction of the table saw, “grab the extension cords and get the table saw set up.”
“Yes, sir,” I mutter and get an unintended glare from him.
The rest of the morning goes something like this:
“Blue, grab a tub to mix the cement.”
“Blue, get us some water.”
“Blue, where’s the nail gun?”
“Blue, Blue, Blue…” I never want to hear my name said out loud again. The Colonel is a bossy pain in the ass. He thrives on ordering people around.
We’re finishing up for the day when Billy rubs up against me. I pet his floppy ear and rub his cute face. He’s been busy with Hazel lately, but unlike human males, the little guy is loyal, has good manners, and always remembers to say hello.
“What are you doing wandering around, little man? You should be in a paddock with your friends and away from the construction.”
While Shane and Aidan cover the equipment and materials we need to continue tomorrow, I decide to walk him back to the small pasture where the rest of his playmates are hanging out.
I’m gone two minutes, two freaking minutes, and I hear, “Fuck you, Shane!”
Have mercy.
I hustle back to discover the brothers facing off; chests puffed out and mouths snapping. As much alike as they are, Aidan is no match for Shane physically. His looks are refined, his body fit from hours at the gym. Probably doing Pilates. Shane’s body is fit and strong from decades of hard labor.
“Like I said before, you already did that. But I’m sure you’ll find another way to fuck me over. I’m not planning on getting married again, so you won’t be fucking any wife of mine anymore. Find some other marriage to wreck.”
I nearly sputter. Fucking my wife… the words go around and around in my head. This explains so much.
Shane’s body is stiff, his face an implacable mask. He wipes his forehead with a red bandana he had hanging out of the back pocket of his cargo shorts.
“Have you ever thought about anyone else’s pain but your own?” Aidan fires back.
“Are you kidding me? All I’ve ever done is think of your pain, your issues, how you were coping––”
“Bullshit! When? When it was too late to matter? What about when the old man was using me as punching bag? Did you give a shit then? No! You were too busy redeploying, trying to get as far away from us as possible!”
I don’t know how this argument started and I don’t like the direction it’s going.
“You think you’re the only one that got shit from him? And what did you want me to do? I couldn’t take you with me. You were a child, Aidan, and I was barely eighteen. I didn’t even know how to defend myself back then. You think wearing your pain on your sleeve makes you interesting? Well, it doesn’t. It makes you look like an immature asshole.”
“And leaving your wife alone to travel the world makes you a self-absorbed prick without a wife.”
Shane is about to punch Aidan when Aidan suddenly yells, “Not the face!” Shane pulls the punch. But just as he does, Aidan nails him in the eye. Shane’s head snaps back and I scream.
“Aidan!” comes flying out of me.
Shane touches his split brow and sees blood. His face goes from burning rage to cold indifference in a blink. Then he charges Aidan who backpedals quickly.
“Hit me anywhere. Just not my face.” Aidan squints awkwardly and I almost end up laughing. Seeing his brother’s expression, Shane stops charging. He exhales tiredly and walks away, headed for the guesthouse.
I look over at Aidan and shake my head. “Really? A cheap shot?”
He shrugs. “He would’ve killed me if I hadn’t.”
No shame whatsoever.
“You two are driving me nuts.”
I find Shane in the back of the guesthouse sitting in one of the two lounge chairs he must’ve bought because they weren’t here when I moved in. He’s holding a glass filled with ice and a brown liquid up against his busted eyebrow.
I remove his hand from the injured brow and tip his chin up so I can get a better look at it. “The good news is you don’t need stitches. The bad news is your pretty face will be bruised for a while.”
Without thinking what I’m doing, I comb my fingers through his hair and push it back off his forehead. His eyes close briefly, fluttering shut. He exhales tiredly and his big hand slides over my waist and squeezes gently. As if he’s testing to see if I’m real.
“What happened?”
“With what?” he near grunts.
“You know what… between you and Aidan,” I remind him and sit on the lounge chair next to his, elbows on my knees facing him.
He sighs. “A tale as old as time.”
“You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to.”
“I was married,” he says abruptly. “Recently divorced.”
I assume we’re talking about the woman I saw him with in town. The woman who cheated with Aidan. The thrill I feel at hearing he’s divorced is really shameful. There are a thousand scenarios where this ends badly for me, but I jump way ahead nonetheless and pretend there’s a happy ending at the bottom of this tattered, make-believe rainbow.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him and I am. I’m sorry to see any marriage fail because someone always walks away hurt. The cheating would make Shane the one hurting. Reading how he feels about it is another story altogether, however. It’s impossible. Shane is so adept at looking detached. I’m afraid to find out whether it’s an act or he trained himself to be this way.
“No need to be sorry. Nobody died.”
“No. But divorce is hard…”
He cuts a look my way, searching my face. “You really want to hear this?”
I nod.
“My brother slept with my wife.” He takes a sip of his drink and stares into the distance. It’s magic hour again, but there’s very little magic happening now.
What I want to know is how this could’ve happened between two brothers who love each other? Because they do. I know them well enough now to say that with absolute certainty.
He sighs. “I met my ex-wife on the set of one of Aidan’s movies. I was just out of the service and…” He glances over at me again. “I thought it was time, I guess. So we got married. Once my series sold, the publisher sent me out on tour almost immediately.”