Broken Branches

By Shannel Sawyer

Nicky and Christy Quinn inherit their grandparents tourist ranch after an untimely death. Armed with an envelope of riddles, they end up with more than they bargained for when the hunt for their family treasure sends them on an unexpected adventure.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Oct 8, 2013
• ISBN: 9781619275973

Book preview

9781619275973

Chapter 1

The little bell on the coffee shop door gave a merry jingle as he entered, making him angry enough to yank it down from its perch above the heavy wooden door.

Resisting the temptation, he grumbled under his breath and found a seat at the back of the room away from any curious eyes.

Morning, Sir. What can I get you? without glancing up at the perky voiced waitress, he ordered his coffee. Black. The waitress was back within seconds with a steaming cup of joe. He needed the caffeine. His nerves were on edge and if he was going to be able to do this job, he was going to have to pull it together.

The annoying little bell jingled again. Ah, there they were. Just the girls he was looking for. They were always right on time, which made his job that much easier. The two women sat in their usual booth, third on the left, and ordered their usual breakfast of fruit and fritters. Sipping his coffee, the man studied the duo from his semi-hidden corner. He must have stared a little too long because one of the blondes kept glancing at him. He could tell they were getting curious. Taking a deep breath, he gathered his courage and started over to their table.

May I join you for a minute? His voice came out raw and sounded more like a croak. The two women glanced at each other for a long moment and then one got up to sit next to the other, leaving him the empty bench across from them. He tried to make polite conversation about the weather and local activities for a while, but his job was taking over his thoughts. The ladies were kind enough through his babbling and even paid for his coffee. This was going no where, fast.

The man grumbled to himself, earning questioning looks from the women, so he cleared his throat. Thank you ladies for your time, he said loud enough for them to hear and made a hasty exit. Sitting in his car, he slumped in his seat and cried. This was going to be so much harder than he realized. He couldn’t do this. How could they expect him to do such horrible things? However, he didn’t have a choice and now he was going to have to find another opportunity. Breathing in a deep sigh and drying his face with his shirt, he drove off. He had more planning to do. He didn’t have a choice. It had to be done.

Chapter 2

Awe, Christy cooed, tilting her head slightly. But you’d make such a cute couple. Her grin tipped one side of her mouth as she rubbed the sting out of her leg. Her sister, Nicky, had slugged her hard on the thigh.

I don’t think so. Nicky answered dryly. A scrawny man with a pencil mustache is NOT my idea of handsome. I can’t even put him on the kind of cute list. Christy was forever giving her a hard time about men, and at the moment she was teasing her about a new patron of the local coffee shop that they had met that morning.

You know, Christy continued, I’m pretty sure he stared at you the whole time he sat with us.

That’s not funny, Chris. The poor guy didn’t even remember to give us his name. And how, exactly, do you gather that he was staring at me? I’m thinking he was staring over at you.

Alright. Truce. The weird man was seeing double. That’s the only explanation as to why the guy couldn’t speak a complete sentence.

Nicky looked across the truck at her identical twin sister. They both had their mother’s strawberry blonde hair, but Christy’s hair was full of curly ringlets while Nicky had not a curl in sight.

Yeah, I guess. Nicky combed her fingers through her short style and sighed.

Christy sensed her sister’s mood decline so she reached across the truck to yank her hair. If people are gonna see double I want to be the pretty side. I want your hair.

Nicky laughed back, Ha! At least your hair will hold a curl. I can’t get mine to curl with nine cans of hairspray.

Christy stuck her tongue out, At least you look good in any weather. I look like a cat that got stuck in a clothes dryer at the mere mention of rain.

Oh whatever, you know you’re gorgeous because I am. Nicky blew hot air on her fingers and rubbed them on her shirt.

Christy quickly used Nicky’s self-proclamation of beauty to tease her again.

Chapter 3

Christy turned her truck down Broken Branches’ long drive, releasing a sigh. They were back. They turned off the radio, stopped singing, and rolled the windows down. Nicky promptly unbuckled and climbed into the open window. She sat with her arms outstretched, breathing in the smells of hay, wild flowers, and open air. Whoo-hoo! Man I love it here.

Grandpa and Grandma Quinn owned over 1,500 acres of beautiful, rolling land. It was a tourist ranch, and people came from all around the country to stay at Broken Branches. Their ranch was considered a piece of heaven by all who visited.

The ten bedroom ranch house was perched on the top of a small rise, just high enough so you could see it from any direction within a half mile. It covered a half-acre and was three stories tall. Thick pillars held the massive porch with proud straight backs. The porch wrapped around three sides of the house and displayed a hanging basket every two feet. A swing big enough for two was placed on each corner of the porch. Wicker rocking chairs, some single, some double, some tall and some small, were spread out along the length of the porch deck. They provided privacy while giving plenty of places to sit. Bright green ivy climbed beautiful lattice which was placed in regular intervals across the empty side of the house.

Broken Branches did not start out that way, though. When their boys, Paul and David, were 11 and 14 years old, Grandpa decided he wanted to hand down something worth having. He wanted to give them a legacy or a purpose for their lives. He had wanted a place people could escape to, so he and Grandma sold what they had in Ohio, bought a ranch in Texas, and within five years had a tourist ranch. It had started with a small house and two cabins. Their friends and family from up north would rent out the cabins and hole up for the winter months. After twenty plus years, word had spread, and all kinds of people had started vacationing there. For some reason people had a need to escape the city life and come out to experience the pleasure of mucking stalls. Of course, that wasn’t all there was to the ranch. It was full of things to do. They had pigs, cows, goats, emus, chickens, turkeys, ducks, geese, and horses. A vegetable garden was always full of something to be picked, dug up, or planted.

A beautiful rose garden covered one corner of the grounds in the shape of a rainbow.

Grandma had every known color of rose growing in that garden. If you fancied a picnic, Grandma would pack you a basket and you could ride off and stay the whole day. The lake was full of fish to be caught while paddle boats and row boats lined the bank, ready for a day of adventure. Grandpa had even put up a slide for the children on one corner of the lake. It was truly a paradise.

You smell that? Yum. Nicky inhaled deeply.

It’s called cow manure, Nick. Christy replied dryly.

Funny, but no. It’s called HOME. This has got to be my most favorite place in the world.

"Only because your favorite perfume is A la fragrance de cow poop."

The banter between sisters silenced as they drew near the house. Nicky swung back into the truck.

Somethin’ isn’t right, Chris. I don’t like this. She was whispering now. There are always people here but not like this.

Trucks and cars were lined and stacked at least 500 feet from the house. They filled the parking lot, bordered the driveway, and had poured over into the field.

Before the truck had come to a complete stop, Nicky was off running through the maze of vehicles. Christy was hot on her heels as soon as she managed to park. The girls’ shoes kicked up chunks of grass as they ran. Sliding around the corner of the house, they ran into the back of a crowd of people, causing a domino effect. Within seconds the entire crowd was lying in a tangled mess on the ground.

What in the world? It was Grandma’s voice. The girls scrambled to their feet and headed straight to her, apologizing as they went.

Grandma? Nicky was starting to panic.

"What happened? What’s going on? Why are all these people here?’

Oh, Baby, my babies. Grandma grabbed both girls to her and burst into tears. He’s gone. My…. Life…. Gone. He… he…

Her words no longer came. Only sobs. The faceless crowd guided the huddled women to the living room. No one noticed the luscious, deep couch, or the matching lavender and beige recliners. Unseen were the deep purple drapes with rose colored print that framed the massive windows or the rose colored carpet. It didn’t matter that the sun filtered through the sheer curtains and bounced off the crystal vases and knickknacks, throwing a rainbow of colors in all directions. Grandpa was gone.

According to the tall, thin man next to the fireplace he had had a stroke. Just standing there brushing his horses, and BAM, he was gone. No more Grandpa Mike.

They wept together for what seemed like hours before someone escorted them to their rooms. The hands were gentle, and the voices were kind as they helped them to bed. After the lights went out and everyone had left them be, both Christy and Nicky made their way to their joined sitting room.

Grandma Janie and Grandpa Mike had argued about the extra sitting rooms.

Guests need a place to read and relax.

Grandma insisted. Grandpa thought that guests could just come downstairs to the living room, den, or library. He was always met with a glare and a decisive, Not everyone will want to spend every minute with every other guest, Michael. Each family needs separate spaces. In the end Grandpa had consented. Everyone knew he would. Grandpa Mike had a heart as big as Texas itself, and Grandma, well, she knew just how to pull the strings.

Tonight Christy was grateful Grandma had put her foot down about the separate sitting rooms. The girls didn’t want to be alone, but they didn’t want to be with all the strangers downstairs either. They huddled together on the loveseat and sat in silence for a while. Christy looked over at Nicky, who was still crying.

It’ll be okay Nick. You know how much Grandpa loved God. He’s happy now… well happier I suppose. He can ride all the horses he wants without having to muck the stalls. Christy gave a soft giggle at the thought. She earned a hint of a grin from Nicky.

What’s Grandma gonna do, Chris? She can’t run this place by herself. You know dad won’t move down here. He likes Ohio. He hasn’t even been down here since mom died and he married that witch Julie. Uncle Dave is in India. He has his own family and life over there. What will happen to this place? I can’t stand the thought of it closing. Nicky covered her face with her hands and sobs began anew.

I doubt all these people would let that happen. Someone will buy it, I’m sure.

And Grandma, poor Grandma. She loved Grandpa so much. She’s going to be so lonely! Maybe I should move in… maybe I should…. Oh! I don’t know! Nicky took a deep breath trying to calm her self. She sat in deep thought for a moment and then she whispered, What was that song Grandma used to sing to us before bed when we were younger? Remember? So I wouldn’t have nightmares, she’d sing that song about God loving us.

I remember. Now, you know I can’t sing so as soon as you remember you have to help or I’m quitting. Christy sighed as she gently nudged Nicky’s shoulder and began softly.

"Oh how He loves you and me

Oh how He loves you and me.

He gave His life,

What more could He give?

Oh how He loves you.

Oh how He loves me

Oh how He loves you and me."

The twins sang the song over and over until they drifted off to sleep. Snuggled up on the loveseat in the sitting room, strawberry blonde hair going every direction, and plenty of tissues to attest to the mourning, was how they were discovered the next day. A soft voice pulled them out of their haven of sleep.

My poor babies. They didn’t have a clue what they walked into. Maybe if they’d arrived today instead of yesterday I would have been more prepared. Grandma sat on the edge of the couch, cleared her throat, and patted their arms. Wake up, boys. We’ve got a lot to do today.

Grandma? Nicky questioned as she stretched. I had the worst nightmare. Grandpa was…

Christy’s sharp words stopped her. It wasn’t a dream, Nick.

Nicky gasped and threw her hands over her face. No, no, no, no.

Grandma drew her into a fierce hug. It’s okay, baby girl. He’s with Jesus. I couldn’t ask for anything better for my Michael. I’m so sorry about yesterday. I had just found out myself and hadn’t had a chance to talk to the good Lord about it. She gently rubbed her hand up and down Nicky’s back, looking for help from Christy.

I don’t even know what that means, Grandma. I was telling Nicky the same thing last night, but I don’t even understand what it means. Christy’s shortness surprised everyone. She was usually so levelheaded. Supposed to be with Jesus? What does that have to do with us? Or with what’s going to happen to this ranch? What’s going to happen to you?

"Have some faith, child. Nothing will happen to us or to the ranch without God’s permission. The same things happen to good people and to bad people. It’s how we respond that counts. The choices we make are our own doing and we pay for those, but God works out everything in the end.

You know your Grandpa wouldn’t let up on his biscuits and gravy. He made choices that hurt his body. Just like people choose to smoke or drink. God loves us despite our problems, honey. You’ll see. Grandma’s eyes began to water, so she cleared her throat and stood. Now, up with you. Got things to do today. We’re burning daylight. Chores gotta be finished and a going home to be arranged." And with that, Grandma marched out.

The day began like every other day on the ranch. Feeding, watering, collecting, weeding, milking, and cooking were still going on. There were a good twenty extra people helping, which was good since neither of the twins were putting much effort into their work. They were wondering numbly around the grounds. Relying on their many years of habits to get them through their chores.

It was late into the evening, while coffee was being served, that their next surprise came. The two familiar yet strange faces of the Quinn boys walked into the living room. Dave, who’s brown hair had all but disappeared and who was NOT in India,