Broken Strings

Nine

Travis still wasn't sure how Noah had gotten himself roped into the project. He had just shown up on the day that Rob had started tearing the porch out and come back each day since.

They walked over to the house and Stephen called out, "Working hard or hardly working?"

Noah looked up with a grin. There was a splotch of paint on his cheek. "I'd say the second but since your dad is listening, I'm going to go with working hard."

"Good answer," Rob told him with a good-natured chuckle as he tossed a paintbrush into a bin.

Travis had inherited his dark brown hair and eyes from his father and the similarities didn't end there. He was often told that he was a spitting image of his father from thirty years ago. In every rodeo he entered, there was at least one person who walked up to Travis asking him if he had any connection to Robert Grant. It always gave Travis a sense of pride to say yes even if the question did get old after a while.

"I think we're done here for the day, Noah. It'll need another coat but we'll need to let it dry first. Can you come back in a day or two?"

"Sure," Noah said as he stood up and stretched. Travis could hear his joints pop as Noah moved. "I should get going before Bailey has the whole house filled with smoke and the smell of burnt food."

"That happen often?" Stephen asked.

Noah nodded gravely as he reached for a rag and began wiping off the paint from his hands. "More often than it should. Why do you think I do most of the cooking?"

"I was going to say that it was because you enjoyed it but from the look on your face I'm assuming it's actually because you like to eat edible foot instead of stuff that has been charred-to-a-crisp."

Travis couldn't help but chuckle and it was echoed by the bass laugh of his father. "I wonder how she survived by herself all those years in Nashville."

"Salads and microwavable meals," Noah told him. "They were her guilty pleasure, or so she confessed to me. Apparently, she can pop things in the microwave without blowing it up. Eggs and, surprisingly, fried chicken are her two other specialties though, between us, I'm still not sure how she manages the chicken considering it involves very hot oil but she manages."

"What do you have her monitoring this time?" Rob asked.

"A pot roast. We're having a welcome-home dinner for Caroline tonight and that's her favourite. There'll be plenty of food if anyone else wants to join us. Stephen's going to be there. Rob, Travis? Either of you? Maryse is more than welcome too, of course," he added, referencing Travis' mother.

"Actually, Jake, Piper, and Piper's parents are coming by tonight but count us in for next time," Rob told him. "Speaking of, I should probably go make sure that Maryse doesn't need my help setting up though, unlike my daughter, my wife is perfectly capable within a kitchen." He smiled and bade them goodbye before heading for the side door on the other end of the house so that he didn't ruin the paint he and Noah had so painstakingly applied.

Noah looked to Travis with a quirked eyebrow.

"I wouldn't want to intrude," Travis started and the idea of fifth-wheeling his sister and his best friend didn't seem very inviting. However, the idea of spending a night talking about wedding planning didn't sound appealing either.

"You wouldn't be," Noah said with a wave of his hand. His eyes blue eyes were bright and honest as he added, "Besides, we've already got two gate-crashers. Bailey told me that the songwriter she's working with and his buddy are going to come for dinner as well. The more the merrier."

Stephen nudged Travis' arm. "Come. It'll be fun. Otherwise, you'll have to listen to talk about floral arrangements and seating placements."

No, thank you, Travis thought. "What time?"

"Around seven. Come over whenever, though, and just let yourself in. You know the passcode to the gate."

"What I'm hearing," Stephen interjected, "is that you want us there sooner so that we can distract Bailey while you clean up whatever mess she's concocted in your absence."

Noah's grin turned rueful and the back of his neck reddened as he flushed. "I love that girl but I worry about her cooking competency – especially when we're cooking for a crowd. If it's just the two of us, I humour her which normally means we end up eating boxed macaroni and cheese from the pot for dinner. I just hope she's basted the roast."

"And if she hasn't and it's a total catastrophe?" Travis asked.

"Then...I'll order a pizza." Noah laughed and tossed the rag he'd been using to mop the paint up into the same bucket with the paintbrushes. He bent to hammer the lid back into place for the paint cans and assembled everything into a neat little pile for Rob to put away inside later. Finished, he pulled his keys from his pocket and headed for the truck that was parked nearby.

"I'll see you both tonight," he called over his shoulder as he ducked into the driver's side.

Travis watched him go and asked Stephen, "Is it bad that I'm a bit scared to go and having second thoughts?"

"Probably." There was a teasing glint in his friend's eyes. "Who do you think Bailey has over this time?"

"No idea," Travis said with a shrug. "I'm sure it's someone impressive that we'll never see again after today."

"You're probably right. Anyway, I'm going to head home, shower, and change. I'll meet you at Noah's place later, yeah?" Stephen was already walking away towards his own truck that had been parked near Noah's.

Travis nodded and thought that a cold shower sounded like the best possible thing he could do right now to beat the heat and get this sweat and dirt and grime far away from him. "Sounds good, buddy. I'll see you soon."

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Hope you enjoyed!

Any of my lovely readers participating in the open novella contest 2022? If so, drop your name and book title in the comments below and stay tuned for my entry "The Golden Arrow" coming next week!

Brenna <3