Haven Creek Read Free

disorderly conduct. In lieu of jail, he was placed on probation for two years. Bryce was required to call the Department of Probation in Charleston every night from his home phone before midnight. He was prohibited from leaving the island, and was subject to unannounced home visits from his probation officer. Nate blamed himself for not being there for his brother when he needed him most, but now that he was back to stay he knew things would be different. Their father’s hypertension had put him at high risk for a stroke, and he had asked Nate to look after Bryce.
    Bryce folded his arms over his chest, stretched out his legs, and crossed his feet at the ankles. “Don’t you know how to have fun? You get up before dawn and work on that damn barn all day and half the night. You’re not Noah building an ark because the Lord told you that he’s going to send a flood to destroy—” His words were choked off when Nate’s fingers tightened around his hand.
    “Watch your mouth, Bryce,” Nate whispered hoarsely. “You’ve been giving Dad a rough time, but it stops now.” He increased the pressure on his brother’s hand. “Since I’ve been back I’ve turned a blind eye to your smart-ass mouth. The barn will be finished in a couple of weeks, and that’s when you’ll start getting up at dawn to work with me. No more sleeping late and sitting around all day watching television. And when you speak to your mother and father, it will be with respect or I’ll call your probation officer and have him violate you.” Nate released Bryce’s hand. “What’s it going to be, bro? Are you willing to work with me, or would you prefer the accommodations at the county jail?”
    Bryce gritted his teeth. “Do I have a choice?”
    “Sure you do. Some guys prefer three hots and a cot to an honest day’s work. Now, are you going to pick door number one or door number two?”
    A beat passed, then Bryce mumbled, “I’ll work with you.”
    Smiling, he patted the younger man’s cheek. “See, that was easy.”
    Nate didn’t like playing the bully when he’d always been Bryce’s hero. Three thousand miles and twenty years made maintaining the bond with his sister and brother difficult. He called, wrote, and never forgot their birthdays, or his niece’s and nephew’s, and yet, despite his efforts, he had still grown distant from them. His relationship with his father and stepmother took longer to resolve, and it was the first time since Lucas married Odessa that Nate felt they were truly a family unit. It had taken time, space, and maturity to realize he couldn’t change the past. His father’s affair with his wife’s nurse as Nate’s mother lay dying had haunted him for years. Rumors and gossip were as intrinsic to the people who lived on Cavanaugh Island as their Lowcountry cuisine. He’d believed it was simply talk until he saw his father and Odessa in bed together once his mother was admitted to a mainland hospice.
    Fifteen-year-old Nate took Manda Shaw’s death hard; he intensely resented the woman who, three months later, had taken her place when she married Lucas. He rejected her and her claim that she was now his stepmother.
    After a lengthy stint in California, he’d returned to Haven Creek a week before Thanksgiving, channeling all his nervous energy into his work. Bryce was right when he said Nate spent all his waking hours building the barn. Not only was it therapeutic, but when it was completed it would provide a place for him to live without depending on the generosity of his sister and brother-in-law, who’d permitted him to stay in their guest room.
    Nate was snapped out of his thoughts when the wedding planner and her staff began motioning for everyone to take their seats. Nate checked his cell phone. It was eleven fifty-five. The ceremony was slated for twelve noon, followed by a cocktail hour at one and a buffet dinner at two.
    The chamber music changed to a processional, and everyone turned to watch as