Page 1 of The Fence Between Us

Chapter 1

Rabble

Rabble rubbed at his eyes, the pads of his fingers digging into the corners and making sparks dance behind his lids. The drag of exhaustion pulled at him and his bones ached with long days and longer nights. One year had turned into eight in the blink of an eye. Some days he went to bed a young pup, fresh from the doghouse and others he felt like an ancient hound. Those ancient days were coming more and more often with each passing turn around the Sun.

He tugged at the stiff line of his collar, loosening the tie around his neck. Hopefully, adding space between his throat and the corporate noose would ease the feeling of being caged in. Frowning at the closed door of his office, he longed for the cooling breeze from the exposed HVAC system, knowing it would provide a welcome relief from the oppressive end-of-June heat. Enclosed spaces were not his friend.

Despite his disdain for the black painted panel wood door, he needed privacy for the phone conversation he just finished, which meant vacating the space he shared with his two closestfriends and business partners. Even though he considered both men his brothers in every way that mattered, he wasn’t quite ready to share the details of his new purchase, nor was Rabble willing to examine his motives too closely, at least not aloud.

He flicked the little yellow sticky note stuck to his index finger and reread the phone number of the real estate agent and a reasonable price tag for ten acres of land on the outskirts of his hometown. The requisite paperwork outlining his offer and the current owners’ acceptance letter sat front and center on his desk, but he wasn’t ready to look at them.

Staring at the note, the numbers blurred into smudges of graphite. When Rabble contacted the realtor, he hadn’t planned what he’d say when she answered the phone. After he stumbled through an awkward and stunted conversation, the poor woman managed to determine which piece of property interested him. From there, it was just a matter of making an official offer and moving money from one of his investment accounts. Within a few days, he had a closing date.

Did he have plans for that property? No. The purchase had been impulsive and unlike him at all. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t seem to process the meaning of the numbers on the small square of paper. Returning to the place where his entire life had imploded hadn’t been the plan, but now he found himself the owner of the very land he’d always despised. Rabble rolled his shoulders, trying to relieve some of the tension that worked to knot the muscles there.

Rabble glanced around his office, the pristine light gray walls, the bland cookie-cutter décor their decorator insisted on. He browsed his desk, taking in the stack of file folders on the corner that he still needed to sort and file. He frowned, noting the alarming number of coffee mugs he’d managed to collect just since arriving that morning. The only other personal touches on the entire L-shaped surface were the two worn photos in neatblack frames nearest his computer. One contained the last unit picture taken of him and his brothers, along with the few other men he would always consider family. The other, a crinkled and creased wallet sized image of dreams he’d given up on long ago.

His eyes landing on the latest case file he’d compiled and he grabbed the manilla file folder, grasping it like a lifeline. Keeping his breathing as steady as possible, Rabble opened his door, nearly sighed at the cool blast of air that greeted him. He lumbered into the bright and open communal area where they all preferred to work even though they each had their own offices on the third floor of the renovated factory. Large windows lined two of the four walls, letting in plenty of natural light and an impressive view of the outer edges of Grand Rock.

Dash and Declan MacAlister, twins and Rabble’s best friends, sat side-by-side, their backs to Rabble. Their considerable frames swallowed the chairs beneath them, courtesy of good genes and an intense workout routine. Identical in almost every way, Dash let his long, wavy hair grow to his shoulders, whereas Declan visited the barber religiously to keep his hair neatly styled within two inches. Aside from their hair, the biggest difference between the brothers was their attitude. While Dash hardly ever wore anything more than a frown, Declan remained all charm and smiles.

As Rabble walked toward them, he caught Declan’s shit-eating grin just before he slid a five-dollar bill across the tabletop to Dash. Rabble raised a dark eyebrow in question.

Declan flashed his signature smile, the disarming one that kept anyone from looking deeper than surface level, “We bet how long it would take before the claustrophobia hit. Dash won.”

Rabble couldn’t quite bring himself to be aggravated with either of them, in part because he wasn’t in the mood and because he was guilty of making the same bet on both of them. He slapped the manilla folder on the table in front of them, thenturned to make another cup of coffee from the extensive and well-stocked bar. If all three of them agreed on one thing, it was that caffeine must be available at all times.

As he poured his third cup of the morning, the sound of rustling paper reached him. One of his friends had grabbed the file and thumbed through the documents. Rabble could practically feel their scowl behind his back.

Keeping his back to them, Rabble sipped his scalding coffee, burning his tongue in the process. He schooled his tone into mock casualness as he asked, “What are you doing for the Fourth?”

“Getting as far away from the city fireworks as possible,” Dash said, his deep voice a mere rumble.

Rabble silently agreed. He didn’t have many triggers, but enclosed spaces and loud booming noises… Yeah, those weren’t his favorite. The city they’d settled in had been more of a necessity at the time and less of an ideal choice. Admittedly, they’d had many late-night conversations about moving the business somewhere else, somewhere less suffocating.

“Oh man, did I forget to tell you?” Declan winced. He leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his short mahogany hair.

He adopted a wide-eyed innocent look that almost had Rabble snorting. He’d known the man a long time, and innocent was one of the last words he’d use to describe Declan.

Rabble and Dash stared at him, Dash managing a bit more patience than Rabble as his leg burned with the need to bounce his knee.

“Elyza called. She wants us to visit and help with the local town parade. Not only does the route go right by her bridal shop, but she also wants to make a big ass float. She went on about the benefits to small businesses and needing support.” He shrugged. “Anyway, she said she’d supply beer and pizza.”

With a sigh, Dash rubbed his temples but nodded. The twins’ little sister was the apple of their eye; they’d do anything for her. While Rabble had met Elyza in person only a few times, always when she came to visit her brothers here in Grand Rock, he’d liked her. She had a spunky attitude and was as fiercely protective as her brothers as they were of her. At the end of her first visit to the city, she even adopted Rabble, claiming him as another brother. He’d been okay with that. As an only child, he figured maybe having a couple of siblings wouldn’t be too awful.

“Looks like we’re going to see Elyza,” Rabble shrugged. He didn’t have plans for Independence Day either, but Dash’s idea of getting out of the city sounded good.

“Sweet, I’ll let her know,” Declan said, as if there had been any doubt they’d end up going to help her. He pulled out his cell phone to message his sister. “If we leave tomorrow, we can spend a long weekend in Shiloh Hills.”

Rabble froze, his muscles seizing, his mug of coffee paused a scant inch from his mouth. The steaming liquid did nothing to warm his now chilled skin.Shiloh Hills. Ah, hell.

Located deep in the Ozarks of Missouri, Shiloh Hills was beautiful beyond compare. The hills wore huge old trees like a cozy blanket, covering every nook and cranny. In the autumn, the leaves turned varying shades of red, orange, and yellow, casting a fiery glow across the Ozarks that were visible for what seemed like miles. But Rabble’s history with Shiloh Hills was long and loaded. His hometown held his best and worst memories. No matter that he loved the area, no matter that it contained an intrinsic part of his soul, staying as far away from that town remained at the top of his list of things to do.

If either twin noticed his voice going all funny, they gave him the courtesy of keeping their mouths shut. “When,” he choked, struggling to form words around the lump stuck in his throat, “did she relocate to Shiloh Hills?”

Declan returned to reading through the file. “As soon as we settled here. She wanted to be near us, but city life isn’t for her. She found the closest small town with an economy, or semblance of one, and set up shop. She’s had the bridal shop for—what, Dash, about a year now?”

Dash nodded, taking a moment to scratch at the underside of his dark beard.

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