Against the Wind, Season 2, Episode 1 (Rising Storm) by Rebecca Zanetti Page A

leaving Bryce at home with both kids after Tucker had left about an hour before. But man, it was nice to have a break.
    Her brother slid into the booth across from her. “You summoned me?” he asked wryly.
    Tara grinned. “You could say that. I’m worried about you.”
    Tate reached for a menu. “Stop worrying. I’m fine.”
    That was Tate.
    She flashed back to a memory of them in grade school when he’d been hit with a line drive and broken his collarbone during a baseball game at recess. He’d paused, his face beyond pale, and calmly stated that it was time to go home. Then he’d passed out.
    The waitress came by and Tara ordered a cheeseburger.
    “I’ll have the same.” Tate pushed the menu back into the holder and waited until the waitress had left. “I hope you’re not here on Tucker’s behalf.”
    Tara sat back. “I’m here on your behalf, butthead.”
    Tate grinned. “Nobody has called me a butthead in at least a week.”
    “Then it’s time. How’s your face?” She nodded at the ugly bruise cutting across his cheekbone.
    “Coming in handy with the ladies.” Tate grinned. “Makes me look tough.”
    Actually, it did give him a bad-boy appearance that looked good on his handsome face. “From anybody in particular?” she asked.
    “No.” He lost the smile. “Don’t even think of setting me up with somebody so I can find real love and forgive Tucker.”
    She winced. “That obvious, huh?”
    “Mom has called twice with hints for me to ask out Marisol Moreno.”
    Tara frowned. “Interesting. You know I adore Marisol, but she has it bad for Patrick.”
    “Doesn’t matter anyway. I’m swearing off women,” Tate said darkly.
    Well, it wasn’t the first time she’d heard one of her brothers say those words. Tara shrugged. “That’s up to you.”
    “Gee, thanks, sis.” Tate took a drink from his sweating water glass. “Is your husband handling Danny’s diagnosis any better?”
    Tara shook her head. “Oh no, little brother. We’re here to talk about your life, not mine this time.” Tate had always tried to fix her life for her, and while sometimes it had been handy, right now, they needed to work on his problems. “How are you doing? Really?”
    He sighed. “Really? I’m pissed as hell at my brother and former girlfriend. I have nightmares of Christmases years in the future where I have to buy presents for their kids, and I’m the old creepy guy who lives at the end of the lane.”
    Tara chuckled. “You have every right to be mad.”
    “Thanks,” he said dryly. “I thought they would’ve broken up by now.”
    Not likely. She cleared her throat. “What makes you the angriest?”
    He set down his glass. “What do you mean?”
    “Well, what’s worse? What Tucker did to you, what Hannah did to you, or what they did to your career?” She tried to keep her tone light.
    Tate slapped a hand on the table. “I am so tired of everyone thinking this is just about my damn career.”
    “I don’t think that,” Tara countered. “I promise.”
    He settled back. “Fine. What makes me the maddest?” At her nod, he continued, “Tucker. My brother has now shared the woman I thought I’d marry. His betrayal is what makes me the angriest.”
    That’s what Tara had been afraid of. Even if Tate someday realized that Hannah wasn’t the right one for him, Tucker had still betrayed him. Tate had many good qualities, but being forgiving wasn’t exactly at the top of the list. “Is there any way you can see yourself forgiving him?” she asked.
    Tate studied her. “Not while he’s still seeing Hannah. The idea of them together makes me want to puke.”
    Tara sipped her water. Something told her that Tucker and Hannah might go the long haul. She sighed. “We’ll keep working on that. For now, I have an idea for your campaign.”
    “Really?” Tate cocked his head to the side. “Go on.”
    “Well, since you seemed to be hit by this newest problem, how about if the church has a bake