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Rough and Tumble (Coming Home to the Mountain Book 1)
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Rough & Tumble
Coming Home to the Mountain
Frankie Love
Contents
Copyright
1. Bartlett
2. Abby
3. Bartlett
4. Abby
5. Bartlett
6. Abby
7. Bartlett
8. Abby
9. Bartlett
10. Abby
11. Bartlett
12. Abby
13. Bartlett
14. Abby
Epilogue
About the Author
Copyright
Edited by Happily Ever Author
Proofread by Norma’s Nook Proofreading
Cover Design by Cormar Covers
Map Illustration by Joel Kimmel
Map Typography by Andre Mora
Copyright © and 2022 by Frankie Love
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
1
Bartlett
I fell in love once, and it was with a girl named Plum. When I met her for the first time, it was the head-over-heels, dumbstruck, can’t think of what to say kind of smitten.
She was 6 pounds, 4 ounces, surrounded by every living member of the Rough family, and there wasn’t a dry eye in that hospital room.
Now, at five years old, my niece Plum is the center of my family. As she bounds into my hardware store, Hammer Home, the bells on the front door ring and a smile spreads across my face. I may try to play the part of a grumpy mountain man, but when that sweet pea comes to my register, looking for a lollipop, I melt.
“Uncle Bart, can I have a cherry one, pretty please?” she asks, her dark brown hair in pigtails to her waist, freckles across the bridge of her nose. She isn’t wearing her winter coat and it’s thirty degrees out.
“Who’s supposed to be watching you right now?” I ask, thinking they’re doing a piss-poor job at it as I hand her the requested sucker from the jar next to my register.
“Auntie Lemon, but she’s on the phone with a client and so I snuck out.”
“She’s gonna be sour when she finds you missing, you know that, right?” I ask. My younger sister Lemon works above me in the main offices of our family’s construction company, Rough House.
“Plum?” Lemon yanks open the front doors and calls for our niece, holding a child-size winter coat in hand. “Plum, I swear if you’ve–”
“She’s right here,” I say as Lemon walks toward us, hands on her hips. She two years younger than me, but way more tightly wound. “Oops,” I whisper to Plum. “You’re busted.”
“If you catch a cold before Grandma’s Sunday dinner, I’ll be the one who’s blamed. You need to wear a coat. Not to mention you can’t run out on me! It’s dangerous to leave without an adult.”
Even Plum seems to know this is a bit of a stretch. The three of us turn to look out the big shop window, taking in the quiet view. Hammer Home is nestled on Cozy Court, and there is virtually no crime in this town. There’s a reason locals stay forever.
But as we look out the window at the picturesque street with the winter flower boxes filled, the bakery across the street with customers milling about, and families out doing weekend errands, I notice one thing out of place.
“Do you know whose dog that is?” I ask as a mangy mutt walks into a metal trash can, then a moment later, into a lamp post.
“Never seen it before,” Lemon says, frowning.
I’ve already moved to the front door and opened it, concerned. The poor dog is clearly confused. As I cross the street, I wave to Nancy, who owns Home for Christmas, the holiday decor shop across the street. “Have you seen this dog’s owner?” I ask her.
She shakes her head. “No, but I came out here because I was worried it would wander into the road.”
I kneel down, Plum and Lemon at my side, and take a closer look at the pup. It is a small white dog with a black patch over its left eye. But both eyes are clouded over. “I think this mutt is blind,” I say as he begins licking the back of my hand. “Sure is friendly though.”
“And cute!” Plum says.
The dog is wearing a leather collar and it has a bronze tag attached. “Hijinx,” I read aloud. “Blind and Beloved.”
“Does it list a phone number?” Lemon asks.
“Yep.” I scoop up the pup and carry him across the street to the hardware store.
On a mission, Lemon and Plum find a bag of dog food, treats, and bowls for Hijinx as I call the number on his collar. “No answer and it says the voicemail box is full,” I say. “Well, that’s a bummer.”
“The owner must be close by,” Lemon says. “Call Graham at the police station and tell him you found a dog in case anyone calls looking for one.”
“Shouldn’t you be the one calling the station? Derek works there too,” I joke, remembering how the local officer had a crush on my sister in high school. Our brother Graham is a cop, and I can call him directly, but I can’t help giving my sister a hard time any chance I get.
“You want to go there?” Lemon’s eyes light up. She loves nothing more than to bother me about my lack of a love life. “I heard Claudine and Tabitha over at the hair salon gossiping about you last week. Claudine’s daughter is coming to town, and she wants to set you up.”
“Oh god,” I groan. Plum giggles though, and I pick that sweetheart up, twirling her around. “Why do I need a girl when I got one right here?”
Plum laughs. “You need to get married, Uncle Bart! And have babies so I can have cousins! I need kids to play with already!”
“She has a point,” Lemon says with a smirk.
I roll my eyes. “Then get on it, Miss Lemon.”
She laughs tight and high. “Right, because it’s so easy to date when I have five brothers who have opinions on every single man in this town.” She pulls out her phone, though, and types out a message. “I let Derek know you found a stray dog. I may not be interested in the man, but I am a decent human.” She smirks, tucking her phone back in her pocket.
I run a hand over my jaw. Truth is, there isn’t a guy who is good enough for my little sister. She may be a little high-strung, but she’s smart as a whip and has a big heart – hell, it’s her day off and she’s babysitting our brother Reuben’s daughter.
“Anyways… Plum, you ready to go?” Lemon turns to me. “We’ll see you later tonight, right?”
“Mom wouldn’t let me miss it,” I joke as a couple enters the store with a shopping list in hand.
The girls leave and I help my customers, Hijinx snuggled on a blanket under my register. I keep looking out the window, distracted, wondering where the owner is. When I turn off the lights and flip my Open sign to Closed, I decide to take a leash off a display and clip it to Hijinx’s collar. With a paper bag filled with doggy essentials, I turn my back to the street and lock up for the night.
It’s only then I hear a woman shouting.
I turn, taking in the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life. Blonde hair whipping in the wind, dark eyes fixed on me. A figure that has my whole body aching for a future I never even considered before this very moment. Her. Me. Together.
But she isn’t staring at me the way I’m staring at her.
She’s glaring, really, and the shouting? Well, it’s directed at me.
Accusing me of something. I try to focus on her words, but it’s hard because her pink lips have me distract
ed as hell.
“Hey. You!” she shouts again, this time a few feet in front of me. “Are you trying to steal my dog?”
2
Abby
He’s a big guy. Huge compared to me. Six foot three, broad shoulders, tough – and I’m nothing. Five-three with shoes. And I feel like this man could pick me up and throw me over his shoulder and, well, it sorta terrifies me. Reminds me of Ricky, if I’m being completely honest.
And I don’t want to think about Ricky. Not now. Not ever again. I just want Hijinx back.
“That’s my dog,” I shout, stepping toward the big, rugged man, knowing he is the only thing standing between me and the love of my life.
His chocolate brown eyes widen as he takes me in. "I didn't take your dog."
"Hijinx," I say, "Mama’s here." The sound of my voice has him perking right up, and I get down on my knees, and he bounces right over to me, yanking on the leash that the man holds. I pull it from his hand and he lets go.
"You know, you really shouldn't let your dog run around free. He could have gotten hit. I found him out in the street, running into the trash can. He could have hurt himself."
I stand with Hijinx in my arms, nuzzling him and holding him against my chest. "It's not like it was intentional." I shake my head. This man has no idea what I've been through today. Like I would ever do anything to part ways with Hijinx on purpose. This dog, he's my whole world, now more than ever.
“Well, he's been here with me at the hardware store for the last three hours, and no one came looking.”
I blink back tears that I hate to have brimming in my eyes. "Sorry," I say. “I had to go to Urgent Care. I would've kept looking, but…”
"Are you okay?" He instantly softens.
"I'm fine." I say. "Just... It's nothing."
"What happened to you?"
"I'm telling you, it's fine, okay?" I'm defensive. I always am. On guard, looking out for myself, because there's never been anyone else looking out for me. "Well, thanks for finding him. And keeping him safe. Sorry for yelling at you. I was just scared."
"It's okay." He runs a hand over his beard. "I shouldn't have yelled at you either, or assumed you weren't looking for your dog. I tried to call your number, but there wasn't any answer."
I lick my lips. "Yeah, my phone's not working."
"I'm Bartlett Rough," he tells me. "Are you new in town? I've never seen you before."
"I'm Abby," I tell him, "and yeah, I just got into Home this morning." I see him looking up and down the street, probably wondering if I have a car. I shake my head, explaining, "I came in on the train."
He gives me a half smile. "What are you, in some Jack Kerouac novel?"
I laugh at that. Surprised actually, maybe, that he knows Jack Kerouac, that he reads. I don't know. That all sounds ridiculous, now that I think it. I know nothing about this man.
He works at a hardware store and he took care of my dog and he is big and strong and handsome, and he fills out that winter coat very well. And he apologized. All those things are better than the things I know about most of the men I've met in my life.
"Years ago, I came through this town with my family. And I thought it was the best place in the whole world. I always thought I would come back here one day, if I got a chance, if I could get away." I shrug, and as I do, Hijinx wriggles in my arms, causing the bandages on my arm to pull, making me wince in pain and set him down.
“Are you all right?"
"It's okay." I set Hijinx down, holding his leash tight. "It's just..." I press a hand to my stomach. "It's going to sound crazy, but when I was getting off the train, these guys stole my wallet, and I tried to get it back, which was probably stupid because they were two men and they were bigger than me. And I got sliced by their knife.”
“What? Shit." Bartlett shakes his head. "I didn't know people were getting in knife fights in Home."
“That's why I was at Urgent Care. I got stitches."
“Where?” he asks, worry in his voice.
“It’s not so bad,” I say. But he is already stepping closer, listening with care, concern in his eyes.
I unzip my winter coat, shove off the sleeve, then pull up the cuff of my sweater, showing him the bandage. "Six stitches." I shake my head. I shove down the sweater sleeve, zipping my winter coat.
"You've had a hell of a day," Bartlett says.
I laugh tightly. "I've had hell of a life."
"What are you doing now?" he asks. “It’s about dinner time.”
"Now? I was going to go to the Home Away From Home Bed and Breakfast and see if I could get a room."
"Without your wallet?" he asks. “Not to be too personal, but do you have any money?”
Bartlett clearly is worried for me and my fear dissolves in his presence. For the first time in days, I feel myself relax. A man I just met, who rescued my dog, is making me calm in a way I rarely am.
“They ditched my wallet after taking my cash, but thankfully I have my credit card in my backpack. I still need to go to the police station to get it. The doctor at Homesick Urgent Care told me the clinic would get me a room, though. He felt terrible for what happened. Graham, the police officer who came to take a report, doesn’t think the men who jumped me are from here.”
"Well, to be fair, it wasn’t technically Home where you got attacked. The train station is on the outskirts of town, closer to Burly. Still, this is the worst welcome back to Home I've ever heard of."
I shrug. "It could be worse," I say, "I mean, what if I hadn't found Hijinx tonight? What if you had just taken him with you, and I was here by myself without my dog, and I thought I had lost him?"
Bartlett groans. "You're right. It could have been worse. Still, damn, you got cut by some hoodlums from Burly the same day you rode in on a train, after running away from some life that doesn't sound like it was all that good."
I run a hand through my hair, smiling shyly. "You said something about dinner?"
Bartlett laughs. "Yeah. I think taking you home for dinner would be a way to make up for your bad first impression."
I shake my head. “It wasn’t the first impression. My first impression was incredible. It was the summer I turned ten and I came here with my family for the circus, and it was..."
Bartlett cuts me off. "I remember the circus. Ah, that was amazing. I was 14 that summer. Oh my God, my sister Lemon, she thought she was going to be an acrobat after that circus came through town. I swear to God, my brothers and sisters and me, we spent the rest of that summer doing all sorts of acrobatic shit. And my mom and dad told us if one of us broke a bone, they weren't going to pay for the medical bills; we’d have to use the money in our piggy banks."
I laugh. "Really? That’s hilarious." I realize he has no idea what I meant when I said I came for the circus, because my whole family was, is, the traveling circus, but I'm not going to get into that here. Right now, this man who saved my dog is looking at me like I am someone worth seeing, and I’ve never felt like that before.
When you spend your whole life on the road, you never stick around anywhere long enough to find out what it's like to be at home.
This man has asked me to come with him to dinner. I’m not missing a hot meal.
"So, where is this dinner?" I ask, realizing I can’t just go to some stranger’s house. Maybe we can go to a restaurant in town. I know I don’t want this conversation to end.
"Oh, well, first of all, you don’t need to be nervous about heading somewhere alone with a guy you just met. That officer who helped you today, Graham? He’s my brother. And he’ll be there. And so will the rest of my family." He gives me a sheepish grin. "At my parents' house. Every Sunday night, no questions asked, we all have to come back for dinner. My mom, she'll kill us if we all don't make it."
My eyes widen. "And how many brothers and sisters do you have?"
"Six," he says, "but don't worry. No one will give you a hard time."
"And how can you be so sure about that?" I ask.
br /> He smiles, "Oh, because all eyes are going to be on Fig tonight."
"Fig?" I ask.
He nods, "Yeah. She’s the littlest sister, and she's trying to convince my parents that she should spend the last semester of her senior year abroad. So, that's what the conversation will about tonight. Her pitching a fit. So no worries, Abby, you've just got to sit back, eat my mama’s good food, and relax."
I smile. "Hijinx is welcome?"
He nods. "More than welcome." He bends down and picks him up, and then he takes my hand.
"Welcome to Home, properly this time." He leans in close, and for a moment, I have a crazy thought that this man I've just met might kiss me.
He doesn't, of course, but if he had?
I swallow. Honestly, I think I would've loved it.
3
Bartlett
Driving up to my parents' house, I look over at Abby, this wild-haired girl with eyes filled with a faraway look, her dog in her lap, a backpack at her feet. She's seen things, been places.
I don't know if she's been traveling a long time, but she looks tired. She says she was meaning to come home, but I want to know where she comes from.
Though, before I can get to that, I figure I better prepare her for what's coming right now.
I clear my throat. “The thing is,” I say. “My family–”
“It's a big one, right? You have a little sister, Fig?” she asks.
“Right,” I say, “she's just turned eighteen.”
“Okay,” Abby says, nodding and taking it in.
“And she's a senior in high school,” I say. “We all went to school here at the Home Secondary School.” I shrug. “I'm not sure what kind of high school you went to, but this school, it's small. Everybody knows each other. This whole town is small.”