Break Through

By Patricia Holden

In the turbulent St. Louis spring, Ben, the second of the elusive Pernoud brothers clan, is working to finish his bridge project and nursing the new reality that his older brother is getting married and leaving him at home to run the business while he spends a pre-honeymoon in Europe. His head turns when a local television reporter, Darcy Platt, is sent out to his brother Adam's estate following a storm to cover the damage done to the property when a tree falls on a historic building.

For her part, Darcy is one of the legendary small town "pretty girls" who has been made paranoid about it over the years. Nursing an abuse she has not shared with anyone else, Ben helps her make a break through as the pair navigates the rituals of courting and trying to get her controlling parents to understand that their pairing is for real.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Patricia Holden
• Release date: Jan 18, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311189288

Patricia Holden

A resident of Flyover Country in the Unites States, Patricia Holden, the pen name of a good Catholic girl from the Midwest, is committed to Christianity and traditional social roles, as well as high arts and culture. Watching politics, observing human behavior and writing are some of her long-time interests. The author known as Patricia Holden is a classically trained soprano and proud citizen of Cardinal Nation, although, during hockey season, Bleeds Blue. She lives with family and a cute and charming tyrant...make that a toy dog. She also crochets.Please, visit this writer's Facebook author page @PatriciaHoldenAuthor for reader fellowship and frequent conversations about upcoming books including voting on cover art, and snippets of upcoming offerings.

Book preview

Break Through

by Patricia Holden

Published by Susan Sampson at SmashWords

Copyright 2016 Susan Sampson

Cover Photo by Julienochek via Dreamstime.com

Other Titles from Patricia Holden on Smashwords:

Turn My Head

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

For updates, news, and the occasional snippet of upcoming installments of the Turn My Head series, follow my facebook page at www.facebook.com/PatriciaHoldenAuthor. Friends who are not on Facebook, but would like updates can subscribe to my newsletter at https://tinyletter.com/PatriciaHolden.

The first six books of the Turn My Head series, available via this ebook retailer, are:

Turn My Head – Adam Pernoud and Mae Jones

Break Through – Ben Pernoud and Darcy Platt

Third Time’s the Charm – Christian Pernoud and Sarah Jane Rappaport

Conflict of Interest - Damian Pernoud and Margot Dolan

Romeo Night – Ed Pernoud and Beth Hartke

Last Man Standing – Francis Pernoud and Rosemary Fallon

Chapter 1

Ben Pernoud reached for the coffee carafe on the patio table behind his older brother Adam’s house, the stucco and brick family mansion where he and his six brothers – and now their brother Adam’s fiancé – lived in the old, and very monied part of St. Louis County known as Ladue. From where he was standing, in the bowl that was the back yard, he could barely make out the house on the estate to the east. And then, that was only because there were no leaves on the trees, yet. It was only late March. By June, the back yard would be isolated once more.

In deference to the late winter-early spring morning, in St. Louis - season changes were never settled - he was wearing old jeans, old driving mocs, an old t-shirt, and a fleece he couldn’t remember buying the last time he was in Newport. No thought had gone into his attire for the morning. He just threw on what he could grab the second the sun’s rays started to clear the horizon. He had to see the damage from last night.

Damn thunderstorm, he thought. Adam was definitely not going to like what it did to his garage.

Ben looked across the driveway to the old carriage house he and his brothers used as a garage. It was as old as the estate itself, and that was old. Their ancestors built it as part of a country estate to raise horses in centuries past. At one time, the garage had housed half a dozen carriage horses – hence the six sets of doors under the second story porch with French windows above it - and three carriages with living space for grooms and other male staff above. Now, it provided cover for the vehicles he, his six brothers, and his future sister-in-law drove. In the old living space, Adam had fashioned himself an apartment where he never did live, but that Mae, his brother Adam’s fiancé, was living in until last night.

Last night, he thought again, his face tightening. Damn thunderstorm.

Last night, during the first big thunderstorm of the spring, a bolt of lightning split the old, gigantic weeping willow tree next to the garage in two. In a way, it hurt, since he and his brothers had climbed and played in it as kids. When the tree fell, half of it went through the roof of the building, and - he hadn’t broken this to Adam yet since he and Mae were still in bed - the floor of the apartment. At least three of the eight cars in the garage below were damaged. The only vehicle spared at that end of the garage was Adam’s custom, dark blue Maserati Grand Turino convertible. And it only escaped because the top was down.

Ben poured himself a cup of black coffee in the commuter mug he had brought out with him, and put it to his lips. The sun was just starting to break through the trees. The birds were waking up, and singing their pleasure in a beautiful, clear morning even if every surface outside was still wet from the storm last night. Ben picked up his wrap around shades from the table, and put them on his face against the late winter sun. He sat on one of the chairs he had dried off at the wrought iron patio table to soak up the quiet, and wait for his brothers to come out of the house and get a good look at the mess. Unless he missed his guess, the seven of them – eight, now with Mae being part of the family, nine, if his brother Ed brought his wife, Beth, out to the estate - had an amazingly long day ahead,.

Not too many minutes passed before Ben heard footsteps on the deck stairs behind him. He looked over a shoulder to see his big brother Adam, not quite Ben’s carbon copy with black hair, black eyes, longer face, chiseled jaw, wide shoulders, lean, but not lanky body standing a few inches past six feet, walking down wearing old jeans, a long-sleeved olive green fleece, driving mocs, and carrying a commuter cup with what Ben imagined was the rest of the black coffee he had left in the kitchen.

Adam made his way to Ben with his eyes on the garage, and the tree laying on top of it.

Jeez, Adam said, taking a sip. It’s probably better that I don’t think about how close a call Mae had last night. He said, swinging his gaze to Ben with a horrific question in his eyes.

Probably, Ben agreed, nodding. Last night, Mae happened to not be in her bedroom when the tree fell on the garage, destroying the outside wall, and crushing the roof. She had gone into the main room of the apartment to turn off her computer, which most likely saved her life.

Ben considered Adam’s mood this morning before he said anything else. Adam was awfully calm for someone who ran outside in a driving electrical storm in his underwear last night, terrified that the woman he had been waiting for all his life was under the willow tree. Given that Mae had spent the rest of the night in his room, Ben could guess why, even if he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the details. I see Mae won’t be wearing white at your wedding. He picked up his coffee, and took a sip hoping that Adam was in a good enough mood after…well, whatever they did once they had gone to bed to not take his head off for it.

I don’t give a damn what she wears to our wedding, just so that it happens before we take off for Europe on Easter, although it probably won’t. Adam sipped at the coffee again, not taking his eyes from the mess.

Ben sighed inside. I thought your European trip coming up was for two days. And not until three days later.

Adam swung his gaze to Ben, and their eyes met. It was, but since I’ve got three meetings across the pond in eighteen days, and Mae needs the vacation, we’re just going to go for three weeks.

Ben’s eyes narrowed. He couldn’t help himself when he said. And you just chucked all that sexual morality you preached at us for years, and are now taking off with her to Europe before you’ve said your vows?

Adam shrugged. She’s mine. We’re getting married. So we jumped the gun on sex. Adam smiled to himself. It’s not the end of the world.

Convenient, Ben thought, that Adam could just make these decisions out of the blue. He had the money to pull off just about any eccentric trip or donation to the Church to get mandatory wait times for a wedding lifted if Mae ended up pregnant ahead of schedule, that was for sure. Not that Ben didn’t have that kind of cash, but since he was Adam’s backup in the office - and said European trip just happened to coincide with the end of the bridge project that had been Ben’s life for the last year - this was Adam’s way of saying he was taking Mae on a honeymoon. Before the wedding. Unless Adam could pull off a wedding before they left, which was a long shot all things considered.

Ben told himself he didn’t mind Adam pulling crap like this. He told himself that he really didn’t mind.

But he really did.

Not too much, though, since he had a whole lot of vacation time built up and there were family properties all over the world he could visit. He could take off over the summer, and find somewhere to hole up for a while. Once Adam came back….

Ben told himself he would break that to Adam as soon as they got the tree off the garage. But he probably wouldn’t just yet. Ben swung his eyes back to the storm damage.

How bad is it? Adam asked sitting in the chair next to Ben’s, and propping a bent knee against the table when he leaned back in it.

Ben cocked an eyebrow at him in a perfect immitaiton of Adam’s most autocratic facial tick. The roof and walls, or the cars and trucks? Ben took a sip of coffee.

The cars and trucks? Adam asked, his own brow lifting.

Yes, cars and trucks, Ben said leaning back himself. A number of limbs went through the floor. Christian’s SUV is impaled through the roof. Damian’s BMW has a shattered windshield, and a big dent in the hood. Francis’s Jeep looks like it might be totaled. He looked over at Adam who was holding his breath.

And? Adam’s body was amazingly tense all of a sudden.

Ben felt a corner of his mouth lift. He really should let Adam suffer. He should since Adam was leaving him alone to run the business for almost a month, but his big brother did have quite a scare last night. Ben took mercy on him.

And the Maz was saved by the top being down. Adam exhaled heavily. The end of the branch is about three inches from the driver’s seat.

Adam ran a hand over his face. You’re one of the structural engineers, now what?

After we call the insurance company? Call Ed. I hate to interrupt him on Romeo night, but he’s better with damage than I am. Remember, I build stuff. He tears it down.

Adam shook his head, and pulled out his phone. I sure hope Beth forgives me for this. He gave the voice command to call Ed. Ben watched his big brother place a call to the only Pernoud brother who managed to find the woman who turned his head, and believed him without question when he said that it was just the way Pernoud men worked. Their heads were turned once. Beth turned Ed’s head, and, unfortunately, her father was a business adversary of their father’s. Hence, Ed’s Romeo nights - all night with Beth a couple Fridays a month in a different hotel each time in order to avoid detection by Beth’s family. Not that it really worked. Beth’s dad was like a scent hound He knew they were sneaking around. He belly ached about it all the time.

Adam spoke into the phone. Ed...yeah, this is good. Lighting struck the willow tree, and split it in two. It crushed Mae’s bedroom. I need you to come home, and let us know if it’s safe to do anything other than look in the windows of the garage.

Ben sighed. Yep, it was going to be a long day.

Chapter 2

Darcy Platt sat in the jumpseat of a news van complete with microwave stick owned by the television station where she worked. After the huge thunderstorms that raced across the region the night before, they were roaming the rolling hills of Ladue. Rumor had it that the Pernoud estate, the acres of rolling grass with a stately stucco mansion, and huge mysterious building somewhere on the property that most of the city considered to be a fountain of speculation about the incredibly wealthy, and VERY elusive seven Pernoud brothers who just HAD to be hiding something, was damaged in the storm last night. Something about a tree being struck by lightning, and landing on an outbuilding. Of course, no one who had heard the police scanner knew if the building was the mysterious one that the Pernoud Brothers had built after their parents were declared dead, but the crew was anxious to find out. It would make great news copy.

Especially since there were bets laid on what the mysterious building was. All the people at the station were itching to find out. Breaking the story of reclusive rich men conducting nefarious and illegal affairs would make everyone’s career.

Darcy closed her eyes. Whatever. Just because the Pernouds were rich, didn’t men they were criminals. Besides, that’s not what they were out on the road in the television van to do today.

Storm damage coverage was a tradition in St. Louis. Since big, nasty thunderstorms were a part of the midwestern experience, they were covered as if nothing else in the world was happening. After all, local stories generally trumped national ones - especially when they were bad. And storm damage could be bad. At historic sites and residences, it was really bad. If she’d learned nothing else since moving to St. Louis, she’s learned that.

Gus, the cameraman driving the van, hit a bump, and Darcy reached out a hand to steady herself. Jeez, Gus, do you think you could slow down a little or something? she asked as the back of the van rocked.

Darcy, you just have a girly stomach. We’re almost there, he said grinning through a scruffy gray beard. These guys really think they’re the shit, you know. All bachelors. All supposedly brilliant or something. They’ve been hoarding cash like they were God for years. He slowed down for a stop sign, and then rolled right through it. I even heard they have their own jet. That’s one way to not have to answer questions about any tail they take to their place in the Caribbean. Gus stepped on the gas. The whole engineering company is just a front for whatever else they have going. I bet anything it’s drugs or human trafficking. People at that level have no problem with flaunting the law, and they are all into kinky sex.

Darcy rolled her eyes to herself, and crossed her arms. She’d put up with Gus’s male chauvinist banter, conspiracy theories, and prejudice against anyone in a higher income bracket than him for months now. She thought about asking to be paired with a different camera man, but Gus was the most experienced of the lot. Besides, most of the others were just as bad. Across the entire media pool. It seemed to be an old boys network with a locker room mentality, and a whole lot of built in class envy.

And a lot of them smelled and dressed badly, too.

I think it’s this one up here on the right, said Logan, the producer riding shotgun. Darcy didn’t bother to turn as she wouldn’t be able to see through the captain’s chair where he was sitting. Wow, check out the fence.

Darcy felt Gus turn into the drive, and stop. She unsnapped her seat belt, and leaned around to look out the front windshield.

Take a good look, Darcy girl, said Gus. This is how the other half lives.

Her eyes swept over the house. Beautiful stucco with brick and stone accents. Five French doors opening onto a terrace porch. Long, nine pane glass windows above with window boxes dormant from the winter beneath them. A carriage drive under the left corner of the second floor. Truth be told, thought Darcy, it was perfectly lovely.

Wonder how much it takes to heat that thing, Logan said.

And what’s with the utility truck in the way? Gus asked putting the van in park. It’s blocking the driveway to the back of the property.

Darcy sighed silently to herself, and said, If there really is a tree down out there, maybe they’re here to access the damage or something. Just as she finished her sentence, a tall, rangy man with dark hair, long face, mile-wide shoulders wearing jeans and a navy fleece appeared from under the carriage drive. He walked to the truck, and opened a side compartment.

Maybe this guy knows what’s going on, Logan said opening his door, and getting out. Gus followed suit leaving Darcy to open the side door of the van, and climb out by herself. The morning was still a bit crisp and the ground still wet, but the sun was shining in a perfectly blue sky, so Darcy grabbed her microphone, and the tote with her notebook and other essentials, and followed the guys to the