The Feuding Duke’s & Gatlin’s: The Duke's of Haywood County: Coming Home for Christmas Series, #5

By A.J. Nighthawke

This Christmas Romance is just in time for your night by the fire and a steaming cup of coffee. The Duke's and the Gatlin's have kept up the family feud for one hundred and sixty-nine years. Jeremiah Duke tried his best to pass on that hate to his son Callahan. Callahan went along with his dad's wishes for a while but now that he is grown, he's making his own decisions. Cal is intent on righting old wrongs and showing Iron Duff and Leighton Gatlin just who he is and what he's willing to stand for. He tormented Leigh when they were younger. He doesn't deserve a chance to prove himself to her but he's desperate to show the one girl his dad hates a new side of himself. It would help if she would stop slipping away.

• Language: English
• Publisher: A.J. Nighthawke
• Release date: Nov 29, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201921453

A.J. Nighthawke

There is nothing like a good story that leaves you feeling warm and cozy inside. Here is my promise to you - Within the pages of my books, you will never find anything vulgar or inappropriate. My goal is to leave you encouraged and happy. Who doesn't like a happy ending? You may find a little drama, maybe a touch of suspense. Some of the characters might even face hard challenge's but a sweet kiss, and a happily ever after is a must.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Leighton

      Have you ever heard of the famously feuding families, the Hatfield’s and McCoy’s? Yeah? Well, here in Iron Duff, North Carolina, we have the infamous Duke’s and Gatlin’s. There has been an ongoing feud between our families for the last one hundred and sixty-nine years. For some reason, we are required to count the year, but the details of the original tiff are a little fuzzy.

    All we know now is that there was some sort of land dispute, and if you are born, a Duke hating a Gatlin is pretty much a requirement. That is very inconvenient, seeing that their land adjoins ours on the eastern side of the property. Of course, part of my daily responsibilities is to check the cattle on the evening rides.

    Every time I saddle up Chief and head east, my nose automatically scrunches just like Dad’s. If that deep-seated feud hadn’t been told to me early on by my grandpa, my childhood interactions with the Duke’s is enough to make me want to stay far away from the horrid people.

    Remembering back to kindergarten, I didn’t understand the way things were back then. I was an innocent child believing that everyone wanted to be my friend. Oh, to be that naive again.

    Back then, Callahan Duke was the sweetest boy I’d ever met. He begged to hold my hand every chance he got. We both knew that there was some kind of conflict between our families, so we made a pact to be secret friends. He was my best friend until the seventh grade.

    About the time we turned thirteen, something changed in Cal. He was no longer the sweet and thoughtful boy I knew. Over the next five years, Callahan Duke tormented me every chance he got. He was just downright cruel.

    He started nasty rumors, bullied me at every turn, and pranked me mercilessly. It all came to a head when we were in the tenth grade. My grandpa had passed away early that morning, and Dad forced me to go to school despite my broken heart.

    Papa had given me his wedding ring as a family heirloom. I had it on a chain around my neck that morning, needing something of his close to my heart. I missed the bus, and because of the chaos of the house, I didn’t want to bother Dad. My choice to walk to school would be one that I would pay for dearly.

    I made a big mistake because walking to school meant I had to walk the road in front of the Duke’s property. That walk just made me an enticing opportunity for humiliation because Callahan followed me. When I was passing by the farm pond that sat on the edge of their property, Cal must have thought it was a great idea to drag me into the frigid water.

    Well, I didn’t go easily. Cal and I fought like cats and dogs, with both of us ending up in the icy lake. I’m pretty sure that the both of us had hypothermia. My shoulder was dislocated, and Callahan received a broken wrist. Well, that’s what I heard. I’m not sure because Dad pulled me out of public school after that.

    What hurt worse than losing my childhood friend and the physical pain of my shoulder was losing Papa’s wedding ring that represented sixty-one years of loving the same woman. Lost because of Callahan Duke, the bane of my existence.

☼

    Word gets around in a small town. I knew that he had joined the military. I’d have paid for a ticket to watch drill sergeants break him down. It would serve him right to get drug through the mud. I’m not an evil or a vengeful person, but I’ve just never understood why he did what he did. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve the torture he put me through. I’d never been anything but nice to him.

    I had let it go, but Susie, down at the diner, informed me that Cal was coming home. Just hearing his name brought all those horrible memories back. He had been gone for four years, and I’d grown comfortable. I could only hope that he was less hateful now.

    Word has also made its way around town that Jeremiah Duke had doubled over on his tractor about two months back from a heart attack. He survived but is still fighting to recover. That could be what’s bringing Cal home to Iron Duff. Although I personally didn’t care for the Duke’s, I’d never wish a heart attack on anyone, even my worst enemy.

      You heading out, Leigh? Dad calls, taking off his gun belt. He’s the Sheriff at the Canton Police Department, and the two of us, along with Uncle Wayne, split most of the late-night duties on the farm.

    Yeah, I call back, grabbing my coat. I left you some lasagna in the refrigerator. Passing by, I kiss Dad’s head and slip out the door.

The farmhands worked most daytime hours, and the three of us liked the cool rides that brought picturesque views of paradise. Out here in God’s country, we could see the entire Milky Way suspended above those Smokey Mountains.

    On my nights to ride the fences, I used that precious time to talk to God. This farm had been passed down through the generations until one day it will become mine. This is home and an intricate part of me, but I feel torn. Most days, I work the farm, tending the livestock, greenhouses, and creating the products that we sell. Over the last two years, we’ve landed our products in twelve nearby counties, and online sales are good. Ever since middle school, I’ve had an interest in creating products without all the chemicals. We have developed an all-natural product line that includes hair care, soaps, lotions, lip balm, and liniments. This past Spring, we started making our own seasoning rubs, and that has gone over quite well with the Spring Flings and BBQ fairs around the small towns.

    In the evenings that I didn’t have to check the cattle or mix up products, I wrote. It’s more of a hobby because I enjoy it, but I’d love to see where that could go as well. That’s why I feel so torn. So far, though, I’ve been able to do both.

    I’d taken classes online, earning a bachelor’s degree in Horticulture. My dad and uncle didn’t see the need for it, but I’ve wanted to create things my entire life. I love watching the plants grow and yield, and it’s just the cherry on top that we can make something with it that makes people happy.

    I’ve also wanted to be a writer my entire life. I used to write stories for… never mind. That was a long time and a different person ago.

    My computer held seventeen fiction books. I really wanted to publish them, but I’m terrified of what people will think. Sometimes I just wish I had an unbiased person who would just tell me the truth. Most everyone here in the South would just brag and compliment you to your face and then laugh behind your back.

    I’m working up the nerve little by little to just go for it and publish them. I really wish I could ask Dad, but he nor Uncle Wayne is going to read a fiction novel. They love me to pieces, and I’m the only family they have left, but that doesn’t mean they’ll read anything besides one of those Chilton books that tell the torque on the bolts in one of their Chevy trucks. To tell you the truth, they don’t know that I’ve written one book, much less seventeen.

    They will support me. It’s not that I’m worried about that. It’s just that I’m the only girl left. My mom passed when I was seventeen, and it’s just been us three ever since. Dad and Uncle Wayne don’t really see me as the capable woman I’ve grown to be. They see me as part of the Gatlin team now.

I’m pretty sure Dad and Uncle Wayne are against me getting married too. They never encourage me to go on dates are anything. In fact, if I did bring someone home, it would be worse than an FBI interrogation.

Twenty-two is not a kind age, especially not in this town. Most guys think that if your single, then that means you’re interested, and I’m just not. Sure, I’ve been on a few dates, but it’s really hard for me to navigate the dating waters. Sometimes, I wish I had a woman to ask for advice.

    Nudging Chief along, I tilt my head back and look at all those stars. What an amazing Creator we have. Psalm 147:4, ‘He counts the number of the stars; He calls them all by name.’

    ‘Remember little ol’ me down here, Lord. Keep me in Your will.’

Chapter 2

Callahan

    One might think that coming home after four years would be a joyous event. To put it simply, it wasn’t. I’d joined the Marines four years ago to escape this place and the curse of a stupid feud that would no doubt haunt me all the days of my life. It had already ruined so much in my life growing up, and the only way to be free of it was to take the first opportunity to get out of Iron Duff, so that is precisely what I did.

    When the news reached me that Dad had a heart attack, I knew that my time of freedom was up. That farm was his livelihood, along with those who worked for him. If our farm shuts down, it will put loyal employees out of a job. Dad couldn’t run it, and four of the farmhands