Wrong Side of Town

Chapter 3

Friday afternoon, Zach paced the floor of his parents' living room.

"Mother, do we really have to go to a barbecue tonight? I've been home for barely forty-eight hours." His parents and brother had made sure that his homecoming had been a joyful one. The only downside had been that his sister Xan - at thirty-three, the youngest of the surviving Shannon children - was out of town for a medical conference and wouldn't be home until next week. Having her missing seemed to underscore the loss of Una - one he'd thought he'd come to terms with, until he found himself back home, waiting to hear her laugh at any moment. She'd be twenty-eight now, he reminded himself, and unlikely to be living at home. "Couldn't we just stay in?"

Ysabel Hawthorne Shannon patted her already-perfect honey-blonde coiffure and smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from her beige silk slacks. At sixty, she looked ten years younger, and she knew it, but she kept trying for twenty. "Of course, we have to go, dear. Your father is a political figure in this town, and Mamie Maguire still wields a good bit of social clout, even if she does choose to waste her time as a librarian." Zach's mother had never understood why a woman as wealthy as Mamie had chosen a full-time career as a librarian.

"Waste her time? You're kidding. I'm pretty sure half the kids in this town learned to read because of the programs she ran at the library - myself included." Zach stood still and let her adjust the collar of his western-style shirt, an old one of his dad's which he wore with stiff new jeans and his old Acme boots. It still felt weird not to be wearing his uniform. Combat boots instead of cowboy boots had defined his life for the last twenty years.

"I can't argue with that, son." Zach's dad strode into the foyer, wearing a hand-tailored, western-cut suit, ostrich-skin boots, and a cream straw Stetson. He kissed his wife's cheek, just a bare brush that wouldn't disturb her makeup. "And there's no shame in doing work you love, even if your family has more money than God."

Ysabel smiled fondly at Walt. "Says the man with law enforcement running through his veins." A Shannon had been sheriff of this county for four generations.

Zach studied his father, once again taking in the lines that hadn't been in the older man's face the last time Zach had been home. His blue eyes, so much like Zach's, were faded and tired, but his hearty smile still lit up a room.

"Hey, are we leaving soon? The food's gonna be gone before we get there." Zach's younger brother, Quinn, ambled in through the kitchen, his shining black Tony Llama's clattering on the marble foyer floor. He wore jeans like Zach but had a suede jacket over his shirt, putting him squarely between Zach and their dad when it came to dressing up. At thirty-five, Quinn already had the same lines around his eyes as Zach and their father, from too many years squinting into the sun, but his sun-streaked hair was longer than either of the other men's - almost to his shoulders. Tonight, he'd tied it back neatly with a leather thong at the nape of his neck. "Yo, Zach, let's you and I take my truck. That way we can hit the Roadhouse after things start to wind down with the old folks." He winked outrageously at his mother, taking the sting out of his words.

Ysabel shook her head. "Heathens, all of you." But she was smiling as she led them out the door. She was a society matron through and through, but Zach had never doubted her love for her family.

Zach hadn't had much time to catch up with his brother since he'd returned Wednesday, so it was nice to be alone in the truck with Quinn for the twenty minutes it took to get to the Maguire homestead. Zach pondered again how well Quinn had taken over control of the ranch ten years earlier. He was happy as a clam doing it, too, much to Zach's amazement. The boy who couldn't wait to leave Hawthorne for the big city had grown up. Quinn was Hawthorne Hills, and Zach wasn't about to barge in when ranching had never been his passion.

So what the hell was he going to do? He was thirty-nine years old and had never had to job hunt before in his life.

"You going to take Dad up on his offer?" Quinn's words broke into Zach's thoughts as if Quinn had been reading Zach's mind.

"Honestly, I have no idea. You think I should?" Working for his old man wouldn't be easy, but at least, the job would be something Zach knew how to do.

"Yeah, probably. You were born to be a cop, bro. Just like Dad. Besides, what the hell else are you going to do?"

Was it just that simple? Zach found himself nodding. "I guess I'll give being Deputy Shannon a try. I'm a little old to go back to junior rodeo."

They reached Miss Mamie Maguire's place, a Spanish-style mansion almost as old as Hawthorne Hills. The Maguires were one of Hawthorne's founding families, along with the Shannons, the Hawthornes, the Wildings and the Benedicts. Blake Benedict was mayor of Hawthorne, just like his father and grandfather had been. Mick Wilding, Zach's best friend from high school, ran the family law firm, since his uncle had gotten elected as a circuit court judge and his cousin as a state senator. And a Shannon had been sheriff for four generations.

"Well, ready to be the star attraction?" Quinn shut off the engine of his pickup and grabbed his hat from the backseat.

"Hell, no." Zach did the same, though his hat was borrowed from his brother. With his fair hair still cut military-short, he needed it if he was going to hang out in the Texas sun, and none of his from high school were worth wearing. He'd really need to do some shopping if he was home for good. Even his boots were a bit too tight. Who'd known a man's feet kept growing after he was an adult?

"Might as well get it over with. At least, the whole town will be here, so you'll see all of them at once." Quinn knew too well how little Zach liked public appearances.

They waited at the gate for their parents then Zach took his mother's arm as they walked through the rose-covered arbor into Miss Mamie's spacious back garden.