The Clarke Brothers (Complete Series)

by Lilian Monroe

  I only have three days before I need to leave for Lang Creek, and all three days will be completely packed with work. It seems to be the only thing I ever do anymore.

  From the kitchen I hear my phone ring. I know it’s my personal phone from the ringtone, and my heart sinks. The only person that would be calling me at this hour is my mother. I amble back to the living room and pick up my phone, sighing one last time before picking up.

  “Hi, Mom,” I breathe.

  “Madeline! I have been trying to get through to you all day!”

  “I was at work,” I answer, my voice more terse than I mean it to be.

  “Are you still doing that? Why don’t you come and work for your father, dear? The hours will be much more manageable.”

  I bristle. We’ve been through this a million times, and a million times I’ve told her that I don’t want to work for my father. The main reason I went into environmental engineering was to get away from all of the environmental destruction due to the oil and gas industry.

  “Did you need anything, mom?” I ask.

  “Yes! Pack your bag, you need to stay with us this weekend. Your father’s doctor ordered him to go down to warmer weather, and with Bianca’s new baby I thought it would be a great excuse to have a family vacation. I’ve booked a floor at the Ritz in Miami.”

  I try not to sigh audibly. “I have to work, mom, remember? My job? I’m going out to site this week. I can’t cancel it.”

  My mother’s exaggerated sigh comes through the phone. “This JOB! It’s taking over your life. If you were just sensible, and…”

  “I don’t want any handouts – job or money or otherwise. I already live in this ridiculous luxury apartment in the middle of Manhattan that’s way too big for me. I don’t want to work in an industry that destroys the earth.”

  My mother is silent, and I can imagine the expression on her face. It’s probably that perfect mix of outrage and disdain that she carries so well.

  “Fine. Your father will be heartbroken,” she answers.

  “He’ll live,” I shoot back. I immediately regret my words when I hear a strangled sound come from my mother. With my dad’s health declining, it’s not the type of phrase that I should be throwing around.

  “Sorry,” I finally say. “I wish I could come. I really do. I just need to be on site this week.”

  “Well, alright. Be careful.”

  The phone clicks and I lean back in the sofa. I let out all the air from my lungs and close my eyes. My hands come up to massage my temples as I try not to let the frustration bubble up inside me.

  She’s right.

  I hate the voice in my head but I can’t deny it. She’s right. I’m working too much, and Dad is sick. I shouldn’t be spending my time in Lang fucking Creek, I should be taking all the time I have to spend with him. I don’t know how much longer we’ll have together.

  Maybe I should have just worked with him all these years. Maybe my pride and independence were misplaced, and I should have been grateful. After all, there are certain opportunities that only come with having a last name like Croft.

  I remember being a kid and hating the way other kids at school looked at me. We all came from wealthy families – private school kids usually do – but my father made a name for himself with his extreme wealth. They looked at me with that unmistakable mix of respect and jealousy. I could see it from the time I was old enough to understand what jealousy was, and I vowed to myself that I wouldn’t live my life riding on my parent’s coattails.

  And I haven’t. Well, I’ve gotten myself an education with their help, of course. And my mother insisted on buying this apartment, but apart from that I’ve kept my father’s identity a secret from my coworkers and bosses. To them I’m just Madeline Croft, the environmental engineer. I’m not Madeline Croft, the daughter of the oil and gas tycoon.

  I open my eyes and glance over at the shelf. I get up slowly and walk over toward the old picture frame. The four of us – me, my sister Bianca, my father and mother. We’re all smiling from ear to ear. The scintillating blue waters and bright white buildings of Santorini, Greece splay out behind us.

  I grab the frame and stare at my father’s face, brushing it gently with my finger. I was only eleven when we went on that trip, but I remember it like it was yesterday. Dad brought me out on a boat and taught me how to fish and I caught a massive red snapper. I still remember the pride in his eyes when we brought it back to shore. He told me I had a gift, and I’d be successful in whatever I chose to do.

  The picture frame goes back on the shelf and I blink back the tears in my eyes. I wonder if he still thinks I’m successful. I wonder if when he said that, he was expecting me to take over the family company. I wonder if now, when he sees me, he still sees that girl with a world of possibilities ahead of her.

  Maybe he just sees another engineer working for a big company moving up the ladder all too slowly.

  I should be with him. I should be going to Miami, but instead I’m heading off into the wilderness. I sigh and turn away from the photo, shaking my head.

  I can’t think like this. He still has a long time ahead of him, and I have a long time to be with him. It’s just one family trip, and I’m at an important point in my career.

  I’m making the right choice by going to Lang Creek. I know I am. Maybe if I keep telling myself that I’ll start to believe it.

  4

  Aiden

  My head is stuck under the hood of my father’s old Chevrolet when I hear a car coming up the drive. I sigh. I hope this isn’t Bill again.

  I put down the wrench in my hand and grab my grease rag to wipe my hands. Turning slowly, I lean against the front of the truck and watch the bend in the driveway for the approaching vehicle. My eyebrows inch upward when instead of seeing the Sheriff’s pickup, I see my brother’s truck rounding the corner.

  He pulls up beside me and kills the engine before hopping out of the pickup. I push myself off the front bumper and walk toward him. The driver’s side door swings open and I see Dominic’s lumbering body come into view. He grunts and nods his chin down at me.

  “Got those parts you asked for,” he says, nodding his head toward the truck’s flatbed.

  “I’ll help you unload them,” I answer. We walk in silence toward the back of his truck where he opens the gate. I nod in appreciation. “Thanks, Dominic,” I say. I’ve been trying to fix Dad’s old Chevy for weeks, and these look like they’ll do the trick.

  Dominic just grunts in response. I steal a glance his way and think of Bill’s words. I’m not surprised he didn’t ask Dominic to represent the town in the upcoming meeting. Physically, my brother is imposing. He’s even bigger than me and I’ve always been built like an ox. But he is a man of few words, and the likelihood of him standing in front of a room full of people and voicing an opinion seems almost impossible.

  I help Dominic unload the parts and nod in approval when I pick up the alternator.

  “Where did you find this?” I ask. “I thought they didn’t make these anymore. None of our suppliers at work had any.”

  Dominic shrugs and drops his load on the work bench in the garage. “Scrap yard,” he explains. I nod and check the other things he’s brought. A smile plays on my lips and I glance at my brother.

  “This should do it. I’ll have it up and running within the week,” I tell him with a grin.

  Dominic nods and starts walking back toward his truck. He pauses when he gets to the door, lifting his eyes up toward me and knitting his eyebrows together.

  “You going to that town hall meeting?” he asks.

  The question surprises me. It surprises me that he knows about the meeting in the first place, and it surprises me that he’d expect me to go. It’s my turn to knit my brows together and I shrug.

  “Not my business,” I answer. Dominic’s gaze hardens and he searches my face. I resist the urge to look away, keeping my gaze steady on my older brother. He used to look at me like this when we were
kids, and it took me years to learn to keep eye contact.

  “It is because of the McCoys?” he asks. Again, I’m surprised at his words. I don’t remember the last time Dominic asked me an open-ended question about something other than cars and home maintenance.

  I crack and finally look down at the gravel between us. My eyes search the rocks for an answer and I can feel my brother’s gaze boring into me. I shrug.

  “It’s just not my business. Got nothing to do with them. I work for them, remember? It’s not like I’m afraid of running into them.”

  “Dad wouldn’t have wanted it,” he says. “The hotel.” I glance up at him and see a flash of something in his eyes. It looks almost tender, and then in an instant it’s gone. He grunts at me and swings the door open, sliding his massive body behind the steering wheel. I watch him reverse and drive away before letting out a sigh.

  I don’t know what’s inside me – frustration, maybe. Anger, even. Why does it have to be me that represents the town? There has to be someone else in town that can speak up against the new hotel!

  As soon as the thought crosses my mind, I know there’s no one. No one except us owns as much land as the McCoys. No one else has the weight of generations of family living in the area.

  As much as I know it has to be me, I hate the thought of it. I hate the thought of driving into town when it’s not absolutely necessary. I hate the thought of seeing those familiar streets and swallowing all the bitter memories that come with it.

  I’m happy up here on my own. I don’t need anything else. This mountain, these forests - it’s all I need. The reason I came up here and the reason I stay up here is to get away from Lang Creek and all its problems. Sure, I took a job at the garage, but I hardly have to drive into town to go there. The McCoy Trucking maintenance yard is on the way into town, so most days I don’t even see anyone on my way in.

  My eyes drift up toward the empty old house. I can just see the corner of it through the trees. I haven’t been up there since I moved out after Dad died and it’s almost completely overgrown. The cabin that I live in looks like a shack next to it and I shake my head.

  I know that Bill is right. I know that Dominic is right. I have to go to the town hall meeting. I have to fulfill my promise to my father and protect these forests with every ounce of strength that I have.

  If not for me, if not for the forest, then I have to do it for the memory of my father. I run my fingers over the car parts, resting my index on the alternator. I pick it up and turn it over in my hand, glancing at the old car I’ve been working on.

  What’s the point of restoring this car in memory of my father if I ignore his dying request? What’s the point of living up here if I won’t try to keep these forests free from development companies who want to clear cut the entire mountainside?

  My eyes drift one more time to my childhood home and I nod to myself. I’ll go to the town hall meeting. I’ll speak my mind and I’ll do everything I can to stop this hotel being built. I owe it to this mountain, I owe it to this forest, and I owe it to my father.

  5

  Madeline

  It’s almost three hours from the airport over to Lang Creek. I grip the steering wheel in my rental car and navigate the winding roads, going higher and higher up through the mountains. I peer through the windshield at the jaw-dropping scenery that spreads out around me in all directions.

  It may be a long drive, but I understand why my company wants to build a hotel here. The mountains are massive and awe-inspiring. After a few hours of head-swiveling and jaw-dropping, I finally see a sign that tells me I’m entering the town of Lang Creek. I slow the car down and glance out the windows, studying the old buildings and small-town charm. I definitely understand why we’re building here.

  The town is built in a valley between two mountains, with houses spilling up the lower slopes of the peaks. The main street runs directly between the mountains. I see the shop and small existing hotel just ahead.

  I pull up outside the hotel and read the sign: McCoy’s Hotel. I turn off the engine and take a deep breath. Tomorrow evening, I’ll be facing the townspeople. I’ll be telling them exactly what my company wants them to hear. I’ll be trying to convince them to support the construction of a multi-million-dollar luxury hotel in the heart of their small town.

  My eyes swing around to take in the small timber houses and the handmade signs that line the shopfronts. My lips purse together. A small tendril of something starts to curl inside me.

  Is it doubt? I’ve always thought that I was doing something good for the world as an environmental engineer. I’m on the good guys' side. That’s what I always tell myself, anyway.

  But now as I look at this little town, nestled between two mountains and surrounded by thick forest, I wonder if I’m doing the right thing.

  I shake my head.

  I can’t think like that. It’s just because I didn’t want to come here, and I thought I should be with my father instead of in this place. Of course I’m doing the right thing. We’re bringing business to the area, jobs, and cash flow. I’m here to make sure that it happens ethically and that the delicate ecosystem of these virgin forests won’t be disturbed more than necessary.

  Those are all good things. I’m one of the good guys.

  I finally open the door and swing my legs out, stretching my arms overhead and cracking my back before grabbing my small suitcase out of the back seat. I take a deep breath and start heading toward McCoy’s Hotel. With a bit more preparation tonight and tomorrow, I should be ready for the town hall meeting. I'll be ready to convince the townspeople that they should be happy about this project.

  A bell jingles as I walk into the hotel lobby and an older woman looks up from the desk. A smile spreads across her face as she looks at me.

  “You must be Madeline Croft,” she says. “I’ve been expecting you. Was the drive okay?”

  “The drive was great,” I respond. “It’s so beautiful over here.”

  “That’s why we want to share it with the world,” she answers. She smiles at me again and I can’t help but feel like she’s smiling a bit too hard. It’s almost forced, or it’s like the smile doesn’t spread all the way to her eyes. She nods at me before shuffling some papers in front of her. The check-in process is quick, and I’m hit with a barrage of information on the area. She tells me what to do, where to go, what to avoid. I nod and try to absorb it all, taking the brochures and maps from her with a smile. She hands me a key and points toward the staircase.

  “Just up the stairs to the left. Room number 206.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. McCoy,” I say.

  “Please,” she says with another forced smile. “Call me Margaret. Ask me if you have any questions whatsoever.”

  I smile and nod before turning toward the stairs. They creak as I walk up, and I glance down the bright hallway toward the numbers on the doors. Number 206 is the third door down.

  It’s a clean room, with a cozy quilt and fresh flowers in the vase. I drop my suitcase and let all the air out of my lungs as I look around the room. This is my new home for the next few days. I don’t even know how long I’ll be here. The way Barry was talking it sounded like it would be a few weeks.

  My phone buzzes and I glance down to see a picture message from my mother. I open it up to see the family smiling at a beach resort. My father looks tired and ill and my heart squeezes as I look at the photo. I know that my mother is trying to make me feel guilty for choosing work over this vacation, but I refuse to give in. I need to do this for myself, and I need to pursue my career the way that I want to do it.

  I send her a quick message back and tuck my phone away. It’s time to get some dinner at the restaurant downstairs, and then one final practice run through my presentation. Tomorrow morning I’m visiting the construction site and meeting with Cecilia and the site team. I glance around the room one more time and take a deep breath. Whether I like it or not, this is my new home.

  When I walk downstair
s, I glance out the big bay windows at the front of the hotel. The mountain is lit up with the sunset and the sky is ablaze with colors. The tightness in my chest loosens slightly and a smile spreads across my lips.

  It might not be a beach vacation in Miami, but it doesn’t mean this place isn’t gorgeous. Maybe my new home isn’t so bad after all.

  6

  Aiden

  My father’s truck rumbles to life in the driveway. I smile as I run my hands over the steering wheel. I still remember being a young kid bouncing on the passenger seat as my father drove me through the winding mountain roads. Now it’s me in the driver’s seat, but it still feels like he’s here with me.

  I glance at my watch and nod to myself. If I leave now, I should make it down to Lang Creek just as the town hall meeting starts. My heart starts beating faster at the thought of driving into town, but I put the truck in gear and start driving before I can change my mind.

  The long winding roads are comforting in their familiarity. I drive slowly, taking my time and enjoying the feel of the truck underneath me. I’ve always loved this vehicle, and it feels great to have it running again. I shift gears as I get to the main road into town and turn toward Lang Creek.

  The truck jerks and shudders underneath me. I frown, trying to accelerate. The truck shudders again and starts to slow. I shift gears again and try to get the vehicle moving, but it shakes one more time and completely shuts off. I coast for a few feet before slowing to a stop as I pull over onto the shoulder.

  Fuck.

  I take a deep breath and pop the hood. I can see some smoke starting to curl up from the motor and I already know I won’t be able to fix this without tools. I lift the hood up anyway and cough as a cloud of black smoke billows out toward my face.