Sisters in Paradise, page 1
Also by Carolyn Brown
What Happens in Texas
A Heap of Texas Trouble
Christmas at Home
Holidays on the Ranch
The Honeymoon Inn
The Shop on Main Street
The Sisters Café
Secrets in the Sand
Red River Deep
Bride for a Day
A Chance Inheritance
The Wedding Gift
On the Way to Us
LUCKY COWBOYS
Lucky in Love
One Lucky Cowboy
Getting Lucky
Talk Cowboy to Me
HONKY TONK
I Love This Bar
Hell, Yeah
My Give a Damn’s Busted
Honky Tonk Christmas
SISTERS IN PARADISE
Paradise for Christmas
Sisters in Paradise
SPIKES & SPURS
Love Drunk Cowboy
Red’s Hot Cowboy
Dark Good Cowboy Christmas
One Hot Cowboy Wedding
Mistletoe Cowboy
Just a Cowboy and His Baby
Cowboy Seeks Bride
COWBOYS & BRIDES
Billion Dollar Cowboy
The Cowboy’s Christmas Baby
The Cowboy’s Mail Order Bride
How to Marry a Cowboy
BURNT BOOT, TEXAS
Cowboy Boots for Christmas
The Trouble with Texas Cowboys
One Texas Cowboy Too Many
A Cowboy Christmas Miracle
Dear Readers,
Welcome back to the Paradise, the old brothel in Spanish Fort, Texas, that became the setting for Trouble in Paradise more than two decades ago. Sisters in Paradise is the second book in the new trilogy about the seven sisters who grew up in the Paradise. Paradise for Christmas came out last fall, and Coming Home to Paradise is scheduled to be released next fall. I hope all y’all enjoy revisiting the old Paradise once again—this time in early summer when the flowers are in bloom and the gentle breezes ruffle the leaves on the ancient pecan trees. Ophelia and Tertia are waiting to get to know you better, and I can’t wait for you to read their stories!
In reality, Spanish Fort is a little ghost town right on the Red River in north central Texas. In my mind, the Paradise is very real. Who knows what could happen to that little town if businesses keep moving into the area? Before long, it might even be taken off the list of Texas ghost towns.
I hope you all enjoy going back to Spanish Fort, Texas, and to the Paradise as much as I did, and that after you finish the last words in this book, you are already wanting to read another one.
Until next time,
Copyright © 2024 by Carolyn Brown
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Contents
Front Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Back Cover
This one is for my daughter’s group of friends, who are prime examples of women empowering other women: Amy Lee, CJ, Dana, Jayci, Jennifer, Kristy, Sherri, and my daughter, Amy.
Chapter 1
Bossy. Nosy. Sassy.
Look up any one of those words in a dictionary or on the internet, and Ophelia Simmons was sure that her great-aunt Mary Bernadette’s picture would be right there beside the word.
Aunt Bernie, as everyone called her, was pint-sized, but was living proof that dynamite came in small packages, and it didn’t take old age settling in for her to speak whatever was on her mind. She had owned a bar in Oklahoma for more than sixty years, and everyone who came into Bernie’s Place had to follow the rules posted on the wall right above the bar or else she would toss them out on their ear—or a lower part of their anatomy if need be. Rumor had it that she had taken her sawed-off shotgun from under the bar and fired it on more than one occasion to settle rule number one—no fighting in Bernie’s Place—and that the holes in the ceiling testified that she was serious.
“I told you so.” Bernie smiled as she slid into the passenger seat of Ophelia’s pickup truck and fastened the seat belt that Thursday morning.
Ophelia grabbed a pair of sunglasses from the console and put them on. “You told me so about what?”
“Remember back at Christmas when I said that Ursula and Luna would be married before summer was over? Well, my prophecy is coming true,” Bernie answered. “I’ve worked my magic on those two, and now it’s time for me to go to use my powers on you and your sister. Tertia should be home tomorrow, and my new prediction is that I’ll have both of you in serious relationships in no time.”
“Hey, now!” Ophelia started the engine and drove down the lane to the highway. “Luna was already secretly dating Shane when you moved here, so you can’t take credit for that.”
Bernie crossed her arms over her chest. “You can think whatever you want. I know that it was my meddling that put Ursula and Luna right where they are today, and I do not intend to stop working my magic until I’m either dead or else have all you girls back here in Spanish Fort. Nope, that’s not right. Not just here in town but settled down and either in a serious relationship or married. The Universe has told me that is why I’m here, and I don’t argue with the Universe or doubt anything that it says.”
“Why?” Ophelia was not worried about her aunt Bernie dying any time soon. Heaven was not ready for the likes of her, and the devil didn’t want her for fear she would try to take over his domain and shove him out for good.
“Why am I not dead? Or why am I determined to get all seven of you sisters settled?” Bernie asked.
“The latter one,” Ophelia answered.
“I owe your mama that much,” Bernie said. “My sister gave her my name, and then she gave you the same. Mary Bernadette.” She poked a finger toward her heart. “Mary Jane,” she said as she glanced in the side rearview mirror back at the Paradise, and then pointed across the console at Ophelia. “Mary Ophelia, so y’all are special to me. Plus, she has taken me in and lets me be a part of her family. I didn’t know what I would do after I sold my bar, but your mama invited me to come on down to Spanish Fort and live with her. I thought about it a few days and decided I didn’t want to be a burden.” She stopped for a breath.
“You are not a burden,” Ophelia argued.
“Thank you, darlin’, but I was thinking about the day that all you girls came home and wanted your own rooms again, and besides I’m no spring chicken. Those stairs would have killed me when I got older. So, I bought my travel trailer and moved into the backyard.”
Ophelia had heard the story before, just like so many more that Aunt Bernie told and retold. “I’m glad you’re here, but now that Ursula is married, you could move into the house.”
“Pepper likes his privacy, and so do I.” Bernie dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand. “Mary Jane wants all you girls to settle down close enough to her that she can be a part of your lives. I know what it’s like not to have family around me, and I like being here in among all y’all. Pepper and I plan to be here until we die.”
“You’ve got…” Ophelia started.
Bernie waggled her finger at her niece and shot a dirty look across the console. “I know I have other relatives. There’s your grandmother, who is my sister, and my two other grandnieces, but Mary Jane has never been ashamed of me for running a bar, or for who I am. She loves me and all you girls unconditionally. That, darlin’, is the difference between relatives and family.”
“Why are you determined that Tertia and I are your next projects?” Ophelia asked.
“You will both be here. It’s not so easy to work on Bo and Rae when one of them is in the Oklahoma Panhandle and the other one is in Nashville, but they’ll both come home soon,” Bernie answered. “First, I’ll fix you and Tertia up, and then it will be Bo and Rae’s turn. I have been communing with the Universe about them, and I know I’m getting through to it because Ursula is getting married this weekend in a little family ceremony, and Luna is having a big blowout the first Saturday in July. So, get ready for the ride, darlin’, because you and Tertia are next.”
Ophelia started to say something, then realized the turn to the winery was right in front of her. She braked hard enough to make Aunt Bernie use cuss words that could have cracked the front windshield. Gravel flew up around them, and the multitude of birds that had been sitting on the barbed-wire fence took to the sky in a blur. If Ophelia had been fluent in bird squawking, she was fairly sure that their swear words would have rivaled Aunt Bernie’s.
“That sign should be bigger,” she gasped.
Bernie laid a hand on her heart. “Girl, you about gave me a heart attack. The deal I made with the Universe is that I would not die until I accomplish my mission for your mama. If you kill me before that time comes, then you’re going to be in for a helluva lot of bad luck.”
“Sorry about that.” Ophelia said, “but you’re going to be around forever if you think you’re going to get all of us seven girls to come back to Spanish Fort.”
“My petition is that you will all live in this county at the very least. I’m not asking for magic, just a little miracle or two,” she said, “and I hope I do live for a few more years after this all comes to pass, so I can see Mary Jane’s grandbabies at the Paradise. That way I can be in one of those generation pictures. When the baby is born, your grandma can come visit Spanish Fort. Her mother, my twin sister, the good one of the two of us, passed away before you were born, so I’ll stand in for her.”
Ophelia turned right at the sign pointing her back to the winery. “That’s sweet, but I think I’ll drag my feet in this relationship business just so you’ll stay around for many more years. Maybe I’ll even be the last one to get married and settle down.”
“That’s not playing fair,” Bernie declared. “And besides you are thirty-one years old. Your biological clock has already started ticking.” Bernie cocked her head to one side. “I do believe I can hear it clicking off the seconds.”
“‘All’s fair in love and war,’” Ophelia reminded her as she parked in front of the winery.
Bernie shook her bony index finger across the console at Ophelia for the second time that morning. “Yes, it is, and I don’t lose in either one.”
Ophelia motioned toward the building in front of them and changed the subject. “This is not what I expected.”
“Seems like an omen to me,” Bernie pointed at the sign in the window that says BRENNAN WINERY in a flourishing script with shamrocks and bunches of grapes circling around the lettering. “That looks downright romantic, doesn’t it?”
“A sign doesn’t mean anything,” Ophelia argued.
“It does today,” Bernie argued as she unfastened her seat belt, opened the door, and got out of the truck.
Another word that could be added to Bernie’s long list was spry. The septuagenarian was halfway across the parking lot when Ophelia caught up with her. “We don’t have to jog, Aunt Bernie,” she said.
“I’m in a hurry to take a look inside, so either keep up or go wait in the truck…” She stopped and nodded toward a sign tacked up beside the door that said HELP WANTED in big bold letters, and under that in smaller type was: Must apply in person. No online applications. Full-time work with benefits.
Ophelia hustled to catch up to her aunt, but then Bernie stopped dead in her tracks and pointed to the sign.
“There’s your answer to what you are going to do now that school is out,” she said. “I just found you a job. You’ve been moanin’ around about not wanting to go back to substitute teaching. Well, now you don’t have to do that anymore. You can make wine. That sounds like a better deal to me, anyway.”
“I don’t know one thing about making wine,” Ophelia declared.
Granted, she was so tired of running all over Montague County to work as a substitute teacher that she had actually considered reenlisting in the air force. Her captain had told her when she left last December that there would always be a place for her if she wanted to come back and fly drones or even teach a few classes in that area.
Bernie opened the door and marched inside. “You ain’t dumb. You can learn.”
Various kinds of wine filled small cubicles that covered one entire wall. A lovely brass tray with small bottles of wine sat on a round table in the middle of the room. Ophelia had visited more than a dozen wineries while stationed in California, and most of them were laid out just like this one. She wasn’t a wine connoisseur by any means, but she did know the difference between a good red wine and a bad one. But if she was buying wine, she could pop into a convenience store and get a bottle of Boone’s Farm Strawberry Hill for less than five bucks.
The bell above the door must have been hooked up to something in the back, because she and Bernie had only been inside a couple of minutes when a man entered the room from the back. His curly blond hair touched his shirt collar, and mossy-green eyes rimmed with thick lashes twinkled behind his round wire-rimmed glasses.
“Good mornin’.” His deep Texas drawl was downright swoon-worthy. “I’m Jake Brennan, the owner of this little winery. What can I do for you lovely ladies?”
“I’m Bernie Marsh, and this is my niece, Ophelia Simmons. We’re here to check on the reception hall for the Baxters on Saturday”—she paused and threw a glance over at Ophelia—“and to apply for the job you’ve got listed on the window.”
“I’m proud to make your acquaintance, and I would love to talk to you about the job,” Jake said.
“Do you let mean little Chihuahua dogs in your place of business?” Ophelia asked.
“I’m sorry, but no pets are allowed,” Jake answered. “I’ve seen Remy’s dogs and neither of them are Chihuahuas. Have they gotten another one and want to bring it to the reception? If that’s the case, I can refund their deposit.”
“I’m not talking about Remy and Ursula’s dogs, but Aunt Bernie”—Ophelia glanced over at her aunt—“must be interested in the job you have posted on the window since she asked about it. However, she has a yappy little dog that barks at everything from the wind shaking leaves in a tree to crickets, and she would never leave Pepper alone all day.”
Bernie narrowed her eyes and shot a dirty look toward Ophelia. “Pepper isn’t mean or yappy. He’s just little, and he has to take up for himself against those ornery cats at the Paradise. And besides, he wouldn’t be coming to work with you.”
“Well, I’m very sorry, Miz Bernie, but we have a strict rule about animals in a winery.” Jake chuckled. “Do you have a pet that would keep you from applying for the job, Miz Ophelia?”
With his accent, Ophelia could have listened to Jake read Moby Dick without getting bored. She glanced across the counter and locked eyes with him. “I do not have an animal, but…” She hesitated. “I don’t know anything about wine.”
“Remy told me about Ursula’s sisters. You are the one who spent a while in the air force and flew drones. Is that right?” Jake asked.
“It is,” Bernie answered with a smug expression, “but since there’s not much in this part of the world for her job skills, she’s been substitute teaching all over the county since she came home last Christmas.”
Jake tilted his head to one side and locked gazes with Ophelia. “Well, now, I expect if you can corral a bunch of kids, you wouldn’t have any trouble at all waiting on customers. They’ll probably flock in here just to see someone as beautiful as you are and, honey, if you can fly drones, you can learn the art of a cash register.”
The heat of a scalding blush filled Ophelia’s cheeks. This was the very last time she would go anywhere with her aunt, and she would warn Tertia of Bernie’s plans as soon as they got back to the Paradise. “Thank you for the compliments,” she muttered.
“She would be good at it,” Bernie said, “and working here would be a perfect job for her.”
Jake didn’t take his eyes off Ophelia. “I can’t believe that Remy hasn’t introduced us. He mentioned that Ursula was one of seven sisters who grew up in the old brothel up the road from this place. Is that right?” Jake asked.
