Brothers of Miller Ranch Box Set

by Natalie Dean

  Sure enough it did, to a small, welcoming room with multiple hooks on one wall all painted different colors, and what looked like a shoe rack on the floor. There were also several plastic floor guards against the other wall with a few pairs of thoroughly muddied boots on it.

  “Shoes off, please. Ma’s a bit particular.”

  Sophia nodded. She rarely wore shoes indoors. It didn’t make sense to track all the nastiness and schmutz from outside over clean floors. But if there was a mud room, that meant there were at least nine rooms in the house, and considering that four teenaged boys had once lived in the place, there had to be at least ten rooms. That almost made her brain short out entirely.

  “So, it’s probably gonna be pretty dark inside, does your phone flashlight still work?”

  Sophia shook her head. Even if it did, the thing was long since dead. It’d been in battery saver mode all the way back before he had barged into her room.

  “Alright, reach into my side pocket and grab my phone. Code’s 3128.”

  She stared at him with wide eyes. Just like that, he was giving her access to his phone? The guy was obviously loaded. She could easily find his banking app or multiple other choices and take a good chunk of change off him.

  But he didn’t even seem to think of that. Either this guy was an idiot—and he certainly didn’t seem like an idiot—or he trusted her.

  That made no sense whatsoever.

  “Ready?” he asked, his free hand on the door.

  Sophia nodded again, not sure her words were going to work for her, and then they stepped right into his rustic mansion.

  “Huh, I thought the lights would be out,” he said.

  A feminine voice answered him, layered in the kind of way that only came with age. “And I thought my most responsible son would answer his phone at least once when I hear that there’s been an incident in town!”

  Sophia turned to see a short, solidly built woman standing in the doorway of what looked to be a comfortably sized kitchen. It wasn’t the truly massive, opulent affair that she had been expecting considering the wealth she’d already seen, but it wasn’t anything to sneeze at either. There was an island in the middle, and lots of cabinets, and what looked like two ovens and oh! a really nice dishwasher too.

  “Ah, sorry, Ma. A lot of things happened.”

  “What sort of things that made you ignore my dozen or so calls?”

  The woman wasn’t yelling, but she was speaking in that stern sort of way that only some mothers had. Sophia found herself smiling ever so slightly. Men who liked to hit people didn’t do so well around women like the one in front of her.

  Maybe she was safe.

  “It’s a long story. Uh, Ma, this is Sophia. She’s gonna stay here the night, alright?” The way he said it was so full of meaning that he might as well have waved a flaming baton.

  Sophia wasn’t sure what the woman saw when she looked her over, her wizened eyes scanning her quickly. Would she disapprove of such a low-class woman in her very fine house? Tell him that her home wasn’t for a stranger who could steal their things in the middle of the night? Sophia couldn’t really blame her for the latter thought. It would be real easy to make off with a good amount of valuables while everyone was sleeping. She wouldn’t, but it was definitely something that could happen if she was a bit more desperate and a little less noble.

  But instead the woman’s serious expression dropped, and she stepped forward with open arms. Sophia tensed automatically, but relaxed when the woman’s hands rested softly on her shoulders. She wasn’t sure she was ready for a hug yet, even from a little old lady.

  “Bradley Franklin Miller, you did not bring me a guest without giving me a warning to heat her up something, did you? I know I raised you better.”

  “I, uh, sorry, Ma. I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

  It was nice to see him grow a bit red and flustered. There wasn’t a hint of anger in his tone even though he was being scolded right in front of her. That wasn’t like him at all, who couldn’t take any sort of critique from anyone he deemed inferior to him. It made this man she was with—Bradley his mother had called him—slightly less dangerous in her eyes.

  Slightly.

  “I see you’ve been patched up well, but I bet you haven’t been fed all night. I don’t know about you, but a…” Her eyes skipped over Sophia’s swollen eyes and busted lips. “A long night certainly works up an appetite in me. Come with me, let me get you something to munch on before we put you to bed.”

  Her tone was sweet, guiding, but firm. The woman gave the impression that there wasn’t any saying no, but somehow not in a threatening way.

  “I could use some food.”

  “Well, alright then! Why don’t you pull a stool up to the island and I’ll whip you up something right quick. You can call me Ma, or Ma Miller if that’s a bit too informal for you. Now Bradley,” she said, looking at her son with a much more stern expression. “You take this young lady’s things and set up a room for her. Benji’s old one should be open. Make sure to set one of our first aid kits by her nightstand in case she needs it in the morning.”

  “Right, Ma. I’ll get right on it.”

  He gave a sort of “what can you do” half smile to Sophia then headed up the stairs with her things. For the first time since her night had been torn in two, she felt the faintest bit of hope. Sure, it could still go badly, but it was hard to imagine that would happen with such a nice woman fussing over her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been taken care of…

  “Now, do you have any food allergies I should know about?” the woman continued, guiding Sophia to one of the tall stools at the island.

  “Just peanuts.”

  “Oh, good to know! One of my little grandnephews has that too. Terrible thing, a world without peanut butter! But I make him cashew butter and jam sandwiches that he goes gaga for! He’s a sweet little man. Going to be quite the heartbreaker when he gets older.”

  “Uh-huh…”

  Sophia just mumbled along, nodding as the woman continued with her polite conversation. The nice thing was that this Miller matriarch didn’t seem to expect her to talk, mostly just keeping up a polite stream of words so the silence wouldn’t become too overbearing. It was almost… normal, in a way. Like the woman was Sophia’s grandmother, making a quick meal after a trip away too long.

  Within a few minutes, the woman was microwaving a very full plate. “I normally only use this contraption for warming butter, but I figure you need your rest and it’ll take too long for me to reheat it in the oven. But don’t worry, this’ll be the only time I nuke a full meal for you.”

  “I don’t mind,” Sophia said faintly, sipping at the water Ma Miller had pushed to her. And she really didn’t. For the past few months, most of her meals had been dollar snacks or ramen cooked in the coffee maker at her hotel room.

  “Well, you might not, but I certainly do.”

  The microwave dinged, and Ma Miller let out a pleased sound, taking out a steaming plate. She examined it closely, seeming to look for any cold spots, then set it in front of Sophia.

  Holy… wow. Sophia hadn’t entirely been paying attention to what the woman had been doing, and she certainly didn’t expect the spread that she had in front of her.

  It was all soft foods—because, of course, the woman had noticed her split lip. Mashed potatoes, some grilled salmon, baked squash and what looked like rice pudding. It smelled absolutely heavenly, and Sophia couldn’t remember the last time she ate a real meal even close to the same quality.

  “Ah! I forgot utensils. Not gonna get far without those, are you?” The older woman let out a little laugh then proceeded to set a knife, fork, and spoon in front of Sophia, which she hastily snatched up.

  If the woman thought there was anything strange or uncouth about the way Sophia voraciously tore into her plate, she didn’t say anything. She just busied herself with setting a kettle on the stove and readying some tea.

  Sophia got
about halfway through the spread before finally remembering to slow down enough to breathe. No one was going to take her plate away, and no one was coming after her for the moment. Once she got that idea settled, she slowed down and began to enjoy the food. It made for a much more pleasant experience, and when she finished, she sat back with a happy sigh.

  Wow, she felt a lot less dizzy from those pain killers with a stomach full of good food. Who would have thought?

  “Here, I brewed some chamomile tea. It should help you sleep. I understand if maybe some good shut-eye might be a little hard to get given everything that you’ve gone through.”

  “How do you know what I’ve been through?” Sophia said stubbornly. As much as she appreciated everything the woman was doing for her, she didn’t like being pitied. She may be stupid, and maybe she was a failure, but she didn’t need pity. “Maybe I got into a bar fight?”

  “Maybe you did. But anyone who shows up at my house with the wounds you do has a story, and stories usually mean restless nights and broken dreams.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Believe me, I’ve learned at least a few things in my years here on earth. Now come, how about I show you the bathroom so you can get ready for a good night’s sleep. I’ll make sure Bradley puts some night clothes on your bed. They’ll be oversized because all my sons are strapping young men, but they’ll be soft, that’s for sure. And warm. Nights can get a little cool out here.”

  Ma Miller led her up an impressive staircase and then to a bathroom about the same size as Sophia’s childhood room. Those times had been much simpler. Not easy, because there was nothing easy about being poor in a big city in America, but simpler. Less terrifying. Without the giant looming shadow of her ex constantly lurking in the edges of her vision.

  “Feel free to use up all the hot water if you have the energy to shower, but don’t feel bad if all you want to do is wash your face. I’ll see you in the morning, alright?”

  “Uh yeah, sounds like a plan.”

  “Perfect. We’ll talk then, and you can tell me as much or as little as you like. I’ll make sure that you’re not pelted by questions the moment you come down. My brood can sometimes be… overwhelming.”

  “Thanks. For everything.”

  The woman patted her shoulder again. “Of course. You’re a guest now in the house of Miller. Anything you need, you just ask, and we’ll make sure you get it.”

  Sophia didn’t know what to say to that and just nodded, watching the woman as she walked down the hall. Ma Miller paused at an open door and pointed in. “This is where you’ll be staying. You go about your routine, feel free to use all our toiletries, and I’ll go find where Bradley disappeared off to.”

  “Okay, goodnight, Ma Miller.”

  “Goodnight, dear. I’m happy to have you.”

  And the strangest thing was, she really did seem to be.

  Sophia went about freshening up, washing her face, and spending far too long staring in the mirror. Her face really was a wreck. One of her cheekbones was swollen so much that her eye was practically closed. At least it was her blown-out pupil, the one that prompted people to make very tired jokes about David Bowie. But her nose was bruised all the way down its short length, and her lips were both swollen and split in several places. There were bruises and scratches on her arms, and she didn’t have the courage to lift her shirt and look at her sides.

  How had it come to this? She was so sure she’d gotten far enough ahead of him. That she’d been careful. Maybe he was right. Maybe she was an idiot who didn’t know how to take care of herself.

  Still, she would rather be a free, dumb idiot than one in his clutches.

  But was she ever going to be out of his clutches? It seemed no matter how hard she fought, no matter how thorough her schemes, he always managed to find her. And the longer it took him to find her, the angrier he was. Maybe… maybe she should just go back—

  No.

  No. She wasn’t going to go down that road. Nothing was worth being back with that monster. Every day full of stress, fear and pain. And the constant rollercoaster of walking on eggshells and wondering what the day would bring.

  Besides, it seemed that—for the moment at least—she had a sort of safe haven for the night. Despite all his resources, there was no way her ex was going to come here and raid these rich people’s mansion. And Ma Miller seemed like a force of nature all on her own.

  Still a bit incredulous, Sophia finished up in the bathroom and headed towards her temporary room. She was happy to find a loose men’s shirt and a pair of flannel pants sitting on the bed. Pulling off her old, bloodstained clothes, she was more than happy to shimmy into the new stuff.

  Ma Miller had been right. They were soft, albeit comically oversized. She wasn’t complaining, however, because it made the outfit extra snuggly, and she happily slid under the bajillion thread-count sheets.

  Of course, the mattress was like sleeping on a cloud. She let out a happy sigh and finally let herself slip under. She’d never been a very lucky person, but maybe, just maybe, things were about to change.

  She rolled over, laughing slightly at that. Best not get ahead of herself. One good night’s sleep was not a reason to get all starry-eyed for the future.

  But still…

  It was probably going to be a great night’s sleep.

  5

  Sophia

  When Sophia woke up, she wasn’t surprised to feel a deep sort of soreness, the kind that went all the way through her bones right to her heart. But what she was surprised by was that she was comfortable. Nothing in her life was comfortable.

  Sitting up, she groaned as her body protested the sudden movement. She took a moment to breathe deeply several times before her mind kicked into gear and yesterday’s events flooded back to her.

  Right.

  Wow.

  The previous night fell like a dizzying slideshow of things going from terrible right on down to impossible. But it seemed that impossible was actually quite possible, because she was indeed sitting on an impossibly nice mattress, dressed in soft clothing, with the delicious smell of a real breakfast wafting up to her.

  Maybe she was in a really convincing and lengthy hallucination. It made more sense than some guy showing up, chasing off her ex, and whisking her away to his mansion where a kind older woman tended to her and put her to bed.

  Sophia shook her head, automatically reaching for her phone before remembering that it was busted. Right. If anything went south, she was trapped in a house very far from town with no way to communicate with anyone. That was less than optimal.

  Well, the best thing to do would be to see if they had a phone.

  Scratch that, the best thing to do would be to take some of the pain meds she’d been given from the hospital pharmacy. But she needed water to do that.

  Putting together a plan of action, she went to the small plastic bag the hospital nurse had given her and fished out the pill bottle. Pouring one of the little suckers out and biting it in two, she set one half on the nightstand and palmed the other one to take downstairs.

  Despite Ma Miller’s warning, she was still surprised by the sight that was waiting for her.

  The foot of the stairs led right into what had to be the living room, and beside that was the dining room where a whole cadre of people were eating and laughing and being the quintessential Americana picture.

  She spotted Bradley first, of course, although she hadn’t realized what a looker he was the night before. Maybe it had just been too dark, or maybe she had been too distracted, but the boy was certainly picturesque. He had broad, defined bone structure, the kind that models would die for, and deep, chocolate eyes that crinkled at the corner when he laughed. And he definitely was laughing.

  Sitting beside him was a bigger, taller version of himself who had just finished telling a joke. That had to be one of his older brothers. The guy was broader, with green eyes instead of Bradley’s dark gaze, and lighter hair, but the relation was unm
istakable. Beside him a curvy woman with long, long dark hair and beautiful skin sat, talking animatedly with an even curvier blond bombshell who also was wearing an oversized nightshirt.

  There was another slightly different copy of Bradley, an older man that could only be their father and Ma Miller’s husband, a young woman with bright red hair, and two other young men whose backs were to her.

  Sophia took a step back, the large group intimidating her, only to feel a small hand press gently against the small of her spine.

  “Whoops, careful there! Didn’t mean to creep up right behind you.”

  Sophia recognized the voice of Ma Miller and relaxed. Somehow, in just one night, the older woman had become a point of safety for her. She had that sort of comforting, assuring presence. One that Sophia wasn’t very familiar with.

  “Hey, I’m up.”

  “I see that. I was just about to go visit and see if you were ready to eat yet.”

  Sophia looked to the table, where she spotted eggs, bacon, sausage, muffins, biscuits, hash browns, and even some fried chicken. Oh, and grits too. It was a spread if she ever saw one, and once more, she felt herself start to drool.

  “Yes. I could definitely eat.”

  “Well come on, I set a spot for you at the head of the table so you wouldn’t have anyone right up on you. I promise we don’t bite.” She laughed and the pitcher of orange juice in her hand sloshed.

  The humor helped a bit, and Sophia went to the open seat. To their credit, none of the people at the table stopped and stared at her. They just went on doing what they were doing, with only Bradley looking to her with a nod.

  Wow, he really was pretty.

  She didn’t mean that in any sort of disrespectful way, but while all the other men around him were rugged, or jacked, or deeply tanned, or maybe even some combination of the three, he was lithe and streamlined. His hands didn’t have the same callouses theirs did, and while his shoulders were broad, his waist was narrower, like a dancer or a martial artist. He was a bit of an odd one out, but it didn’t make him lesser. It just made him stand out.