Beard Science(38)

Billy scowled at his brother, but I cut in before he could reprimand Beau. “No muffins for you.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I’m a discriminate baker.”

Billy barked a laugh. And once Beau recovered from his shock, he laughed as well.

When we were settled and on our way, I thought to ask, “Where is Cletus? Are we picking him up?”

“No. We’re the only ones driving. I had work last night and Beau held down things at the auto shop. Everyone else flew out yesterday on, uh, Sienna’s plane.”

“Sienna has a plane?”

Beau answered from the back seat. “She chartered it, to fly from Knoxville to Nashville.”

“Oh.” I let this information sink in. I’d never known anyone who chartered a plane. It took me a moment to wrap my mind around the idea. “So, who went yesterday?”

“Everybody. Jethro and Sienna, Duane and Jess, Ashley and Drew, Cletus, of course. Roscoe is already in Nashville, for vet school, so he’s meeting us there.”

“I didn’t know he was becoming a vet.” I glanced over my shoulder at Beau.

“Y’all are the same age, right?” Billy checked his side mirror and merged onto the highway.

“That’s right. We were in church choir together.” I didn’t add that he and I had never spoken to each other over the course of our entire lives, but so it goes being the unofficial reject in a small town.

Rascally Roscoe is what the pastor’s wife used to call him; becoming a vet and working with animals suited his playful spirit.

“He’s not going to recognize you.” Billy’s comment drew my eyes to him; he was watching me with a thoughtful frown.

“I’m sure he’s changed, too.”

“Not much.” Beau laughed. “He’s basically the same. Meanwhile, you’ve become a swan in the last two months. What happened all the sudden?”

“Jennifer has always been lovely.” Billy scowled at Beau through the rearview mirror, and his defense of me sounded almost . . . well, it sounded almost brotherly. It reminded me of Isaac and made me happy-sad.

“That’s not what I meant, Billy,” Beau responded irritably. He tapped me on the shoulder and I turned in my seat to meet his earnest expression. “I wasn’t referring to what you look like, Jenn. You have changed. You’re finally talking to people. It’s good.”

“I’m not talking to many people,” I said and thought out loud. “Just ya’ll, really. Cletus has—” I stopped myself, glancing at Billy.

“This isn’t a date, so feel free to bring up Cletus to your heart’s content.” He dipped his head in an encouraging nod.

I gave him a grateful smile. “Cletus has been a big help, and so has your brother here.” I indicated to Billy with my thumb. “I think I’ve been stuck. Y’all grew up here, you understand how it is. Everybody thinks they know everybody, but they don’t. Not really. Look at my family, Isaac for example. If someone had predicted five years ago that Isaac would be riding with the Iron Wraiths, I think everyone would’ve called that person crazy.”

“Do you talk much? You and Isaac?” The line of Billy’s brow had grown stern, preoccupied.

I shook my head, attempting to ignore the dull ache in my chest. “I’ve seen him, around town. But he doesn’t acknowledge me.” I stared out my window and spoke my thoughts as they occurred to me. “His indifference was difficult at first, and confusing. Growing up, you know how sheltered we were. My momma kept us busy and we had a good education, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t lonely sometimes. Isaac was my friend, my only friend really if you don’t count my pen pals. And I was his. He was so serious and stern all the time, and I’d make him laugh.”

Beau placed his hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “He’ll come around.”

“Or he won’t.” Billy’s tone was severe and his tempestuous eyes cut to Beau’s reflection. “Or he’ll become one of them and he’ll be lost.”

Beau sighed loudly. “Gee thanks, Billy. You win the award for most depressing statement of the road trip. Next time maybe keep all the sunshine and rainbows to yourself.”

“No. It’s okay.” I patted Beau’s hand where it rested on my shoulder. “When Isaac left, I think it was good for me. I missed him, and I miss him now. But I didn’t get restless until he left for the army. If he’d done as my parents wanted, gone to college for marketing and joined the family business, I don’t know if I ever would’ve approached Cletus for help. Desperation is a great motivator.” I laughed, and Beau squeezed my shoulder again.

“So you went to Cletus for help?” The curiosity in Billy’s tone had me regretting my words.

“I . . . uh . . . yes. I asked him if he’d help me, uh, figure out how to get out there and meet people. And he said yes.” I rolled my lips between my teeth, hoping they wouldn’t ask about the particulars.

“I’m surprised,” Beau said.

“I’m not,” Billy’s eyes had clouded, as though he was recalling a specific memory.

Before I could ask why Billy wasn’t surprised, Beau spoke up. “You’re not? He likes to meddle with us, and he’ll help people with car troubles and the like. But after what happened with—”

“Beau.” Billy’s tone was sharp and exacting. “Mind your words.”

I glanced between the two brothers, knowing my eyes were wide with curiosity and anticipation. “After what happened?”

Billy shifted in his seat, his jaw ticking. He didn’t look at me. “Cletus used to, you know, lose his temper a lot growing up.”

I remembered this about Cletus, but only via hearsay. “My father used to talk about Cletus, at dinner. He said Cletus was a dangerous kid, always getting into fights, and that we should avoid him.”

“Cletus doesn’t like bullies,” Beau chimed in, but then volunteered nothing else, even though I got the sense he wanted to expand further.

Billy’s lips pressed together in a slight grimace. “He doesn’t like bullies,” he echoed. “He used to get into trouble for standing up to bullies, instead of minding his own business.”

“He still stands up to bullies,” Beau mumbled. “He’s just a lot sneakier about it now.”

Billy scratched his cheek, his eyebrows pulling into a V as he studied the road. “We should talk about something else.”

“Good idea.” Beau smacked the seat next to him. “How about we talk about Jennifer’s muffins and how I can get another taste?”

“Oh good Lord.” I chuckled, not caring that he made my cheeks burn red.

“Beau.” Billy’s voice was heavy with warning, but there was humor in it as well. “How about we talk about Thanksgiving? What are your holiday plans, Jenn?”

“Oh, we don’t usually do much. The week before is a busy time for my momma and me. I must’ve made over five hundred banana cakes last Thanksgiving, and every year it increases. So my father goes to a friend’s house to watch football on the day. My momma stays at the lodge and works.”

Billy glanced at me askance, visibly horrified.

But it was Beau who spoke. “Oh, hell no. You’re coming to our house for Thanksgiving. And you’re eating pie. Lots of it.”

“And you’ll bake nothing,” Billy commanded.

“I don’t know.” The idea of spending Thanksgiving with the Winstons struck me as wonderful, but also terrifying. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“You wouldn’t be.” Beau sounded so sure. “It’s settled.”

“Besides,” Billy added with confidence and a glimmer of something like mischief, “I’m sure Cletus was already planning to invite you. We just saved him the trouble.”



The car ride ended too quickly and by the time we’d reached our destination, I felt affection for Billy and Beau Winston.

What does this say about me? Was I doomed to go through life developing an affection for every new person I spoke to for longer than an hour?

If so, maybe my parents had been right to keep me sheltered.

I also couldn’t help comparing this new affection for Billy and Beau to my feelings for Cletus. It was different, but I couldn’t put my finger on why. My feelings for Cletus were . . . overwhelming, whereas my affection for Billy and Beau felt tranquil.

Clarity about the issue arrived when Cletus and Claire took the stage for the talent contest.

The whole shebang took place at the old Marzipan Theater in Nashville. The event space accommodated an audience of about five thousand; an impressive number, but nowhere near the size of a big arena show. Beau explained as we took our seats that the theater had hosted the likes of Elvis Presley and Johnny Cash back in the day, but had fallen into disrepair. It had recently been beautifully restored and the talent show was meant to relaunch it as a viable venue.

Cletus and Claire were the third act of ten. When Cletus appeared, my heart rose, clogging my throat, and I sat at the edge of my seat, waiting with bated breath for them to start their three-song set. They did and the audience fell quiet; they’d chosen a haunting love song to open, one I’d never heard before.