Page 1 of Lead Me Knot

1

Baylor Greene

“There are worse placesto be stuck in than in Dallas.” I walk the length of the windows lining gate 16. “The storm will pass. It’s only a delay.”

I can hear a heavy sigh leave my sister’s mouth on the other end of the call. “It’s a delay that has you arriving in the middle of the night, Baylor,” she says. “And if it’s still storming when you land, driving out to Peachtree Pass won’t be safe.”

“An hour and a half.”

“On a day with perfect weather. Two, even three hours on a bad night.”

“Look, you might still see me as your brother, Pri—Christine . . .”Some habits die hard. I'm not sure I’ll ever get used to calling her by the name my mom gave her instead of the nickname I’ve taunted her with her whole life. But I promised her and my best friend—my traitorous best friend who fell on his ass in love with my little sister—I’d give it the ole college try. “I’m a thirty-three-year-old man whotakes care of himself all on his own in New York. I’ll be fine driving in a little rain.” I stop and stare at the jetway jutting from the building, not tethered to a plane.

She laughs. It’s light but good to hear over the concern in her tone a minute prior. “I know you can take care of yourself. I’m used to worrying.”

“Take the night off, sis, and get some rest since I don’t know how long I’ll be delayed. I can even sleep over at Dad’s house instead. That way, I won’t bother you and the kids or Tagger when I’m sneaking in.”

“Dad needs his rest to recover from the knee surgery. And knowing him, he’ll hear a sound and be jumping out of bed to investigate the situation.”

Rubbing my temple, I lower my head. “Yeah, you’re right. There’s no sneaking around with those creaky floors. I’m not sure how to solve the issue.”

Another sigh follows a pause in her words, but then she says, “You’re only here until Monday, and you promised Beckett and Daisy you’d be here by morning?—”

I start pacing again. She’s right. I promised my nephew and niece I’d be there before they opened their eyes. “The Pass needs to get with the times. We need some modern conveniences like a hotel or, hell, even a room to rent out, but I promise I’ll be there, even if I have to sleep on the front porch swing?—”

“That’s it.” Excitement streams through her tone.

“What’s it? The porch swing? I was kind of kidding.” Remembering a certain hideaway my sister once made, I laugh. “There’s always the barn?—”

“No. And no to the barn. But there is Lauralee.”

Although her best friend’s name conjures a few good shared memories like my sister’s wedding reception, I haveno idea where she’s going with this. “I’m going to need more, Chris. When you say there is Lauralee?—?”

“She just finished the apartment above Peaches Sundries.” She takes a breath, and then the words rush out. “She hasn’t listed it for rent or on any short-term sites, but I know it’s ready to be listed. You could stay there tonight and come out to the ranch in the morning.” She tacks on, “Early.”

It’s not a bad idea. No tiptoeing around my sister and best friend’s house trying not to wake up the littles, or ending up at the barrel end of my dad’s rifle from sneaking into the house I grew up in. Both sound like good scenarios to avoid. “She won’t mind? I can pay her like any other renter.”

“You know she won’t let you, but you can offer if you want.”

“Should I text her?”

“No, it’s already late. I know she won’t mind. Just go around to the back of the shop and take the stairs to the second floor. She’s just pulled it together, so don’t make a mess.”

The rain hasn’t let up, prompting me to glance and confirm that the flight or gate information hasn’t been changed or canceled altogether for the night. Austin is still prominently displayed as if hope still rests in the sign, and there’s still a chance we’ll get out of Dallas at some point tonight. “How will I get inside?”

“The key is under the pot at the top of the steps.”

We don’t have much crime in Peachtree Pass, but thinking about that key giving any ole stranger passing through town free entrance to the apartment, or worse, to Lauralee, doesn’t sit right with me. “It’s great she’s being safe,” I reply sarcastically.

My sister laughs again. “You can mention it the nexttime you see her.” As the laughter dies down, she adds, “Be safe, okay, big brother?”

It wasn’t storming the night our mom died, but an accident is always on the edge of my thoughts. I assume it is for my brother and sister as well. “I will be. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

“I look forward to it.”

When we hang up, the weight of all this travel drags my eyelids south, eliciting a yawn and exhaustion I can’t shake. I head for the caffeine stand for a coffee and snack run, hoping to muster enough energy for the journey ahead.

I pullup to the back of the shop downtown just before three in the morning and park near the base of the metal staircase leading to the apartment. The rain hasn’t lessened, and lightning has given me a show in the distance. Thunder rattled the rental car a handful of times, causing me to slow down and drive with my hazards on a few occasions. Now, looking up at the apartment that I didn’t know existed, I spy a turquoise door through the pounding rain and windshield wipers. I eye the potted plant protectively tucked under the roof overhang next to the door, marking my target.

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