Breaking the Rules (1st in Breaking Series)

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

"So you were in the war, Brody?" Thomas asked a week later as Brody, Thomas and Elizabeth were crouched down, pounding fences in the south pasture. Brody had been doing good at avoiding the woman until this morning when she'd shown up in the pasture to help with the fence repairs after a big storm had come through and damaged fences all over the ranch.

"Yeah, I was in the war," Brody replied as his scarred and calloused hand pounded in a nail with just one swing of the hammer.

"What side did you fight for? The north or the south?" Thomas asked with an eager smile. He'd been too young to serve in the war himself but he had wanted to. It had always seemed to him like an exciting and fun place to be.

Brody shot an annoying glance at the other man before pulling a nail from between his lips to pound into the weathered pieces of wood, "South," he grunted.

"Let me guess, your family owned some big plantation and slaves? That would certainly explain how arrogantly you carry yourself all the time," Elizabeth cut in.

Grant had been by every day since their lunch and she had grown fond of him. She saw him as a..... friend. There was no fire or heat or intensity between them and she wanted those things. She and her pa had gotten into a big fight this morning over the marriage and she had come to the south pasture to get away from him, hide from Grant whenever he came today, and burn off some steam with hard labor. The fact that Brody had been here to irritate had simply been a plus. She loved watching the man bristle whenever she told him what to do. It was clear he hated taking orders from a woman.

"Actually, Miss McCready," Brody replied in a voice so calm and controlled it gave away none of the anger that was raging within him. The rage that always accompanied the memories of what had happened to his family that summer day nine years ago, in 1861. "My family was poor. We lived in little more than a shack in Virginia."

Elizabeth shrugged and moved a little further down the fence with her nails and hammer, though making sure she stayed within hearing distance because she wanted to hear all she could about the war that had killed so many American men.

"So how many of those Yankee bastards did you get, Brody?" Thomas asked excitedly. Brody sank another nail deep in the wood, realizing that Thomas hadn't nailed a single one since starting the conversation, and sighed. He liked Thomas. The eighteen year old was a good boy and seemed to genuinely like life but right now he was getting on his last nerve. Brody didn't want to think about the darkest part of his twenty-five years of life.

"Not enough, obviously. They won," he replied.

Thomas laughed loudly and even Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh lightly. She was too busy nailing the boards to see Brody's sharp gaze land on her and his eyes narrow.

"You're like a real tough guy, ain't ya?" Thomas asked with awe. "I mean you fought in the war and then you wandered from town to town, living out of saddlebags and off sheer grit and determination for five years afterward!" Brody just shrugged and moved on down the line of the fences.

"How old are you, Brody?" Elizabeth asked.

"Twenty-five, Miss McCready." Brody replied without looking at her. He didn't want to admit the way her laughter made his heart beat just a little faster. She was the most infuriating woman he'd ever met and all he wanted was to get to know her better.

"When did you enlist?" she asked, doing the math in her head. Twenty-five minus nine was sixteen, so she knew he must have enlisted somewhere in the middle of the four year war.