A Subtle Breeze

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A Subtle Breeze

ISBN # 978-1-78430-768-4

©Copyright Bailey Bradford 2015

Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright September 2015

Edited by Jess Bimberg and Rebecca Scott

Pride Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Pride Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Pride Publishing. Unauthorized or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2015 by Pride Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN

Pride Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

Southern Spirits

A SUBTLE BREEZE

Bailey Bradford

Book one in the Southern Spirits series

Ezekiel Matthers and Brendon Shanahan are about to find out that sometimes all it takes is a subtle breeze to shift the winds of fate.

Ezekiel Matthers is a reclusive man, forcing himself into the exile of his ranch after a violent assault left him wounded. While the scars on the outside have faded, the damage inside is much harder to conquer. Zeke resigns himself to a solitary existence, aside from his sister Enessa and, of course, his mama's occasional visits.

Brendon Shanahan has a very meddling cousin, Gloria, who is best buds with Enessa Matthers. When the two women convince Brendon that he should hook-up with the reclusive Zeke, a plan is hatched that sets a series of events into motion - with potentially deadly consequences.

Can Ezekiel conquer his fears and accept what Brendon is offering? Or will Brendon walk away, giving up on the love he has waited for? And will the visits from Zeke's mama - deceased for four years now - help the two men find their way to each other?

Only time will tell, and that may be the one thing the lovers don't have, because someone is out to destroy everything Zeke and Brendon hold dear—and this time, the bad guy just might succeed.

Dedication

For my sister—your wit, wisdom, and warmth are incomparable and irreplaceable.

I love you madly, Sis.

Trademarks Acknowledgment

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmark mentioned in this work of fiction:

Stetson: John B. Stetson Co.

Author’s Note

When I started writing the Southern Spirits series, I didn’t know it was going to be a series. I’d had this vision in my mind of the opening scene to the first book, A Subtle Breeze, and I couldn’t rest until I wrote that part down.

Then once I started, I had to keep going. Much like when I’m reading a book, I tend to write in great clusters, needing to get the story told with minimal disruption. A Subtle Breeze was written over about a week’s time, then I spent a month worrying it wasn’t good enough to submit.

That first story isn’t perfect, but I didn’t change it when I wrote the additional scene. All of the stories are in original form as far as plot goes, though they’ve been re-edited and with an extra scene or chapter added.

But, back to the first book! Submitting A Subtle Breeze was a huge step for me, and the entire series came to mean more to me than any other that I’ve written.

It deals with some things no one likes to think about: death, and losing people you love. There’s the whole subject of what happens after we die, too, and people have many different ideas on that.

Me, I’m a big believer in going with what brings you comfort. There’s no hard proof of what happens once we die, so that’s a puzzle I can’t resist. When I was a kid, we were taught that people who were saved would go to Heaven after they died. At our church, we were also taught that we wouldn’t know our family—everyone would be there for one sole purpose, to serve God and praise Him.

That sounded pretty scary to me. I didn’t want to forget my family, my friends, even my life. Maybe that’s selfish, and maybe the church I went to had it wrong. It’s not like anyone can say for sure.

Even so, I didn’t want to go to Hell, either. Neither option I was presented with sounded good to me. I was a scared, totally confused child, too, because asking and questioning what I was taught was strictly not allowed.

When I first lost someone I loved, I was eight. My best friend choked on a penny. It took me seven years to make even one close friend again. And I always worried about the one who’d passed away. Was she somewhere else, having forgotten about everyone down here on Earth? Or was she still in the ground, waiting to be called for judgment? There wasn’t a single person I knew who I could ask, who could provide a solid explanation.

Then as I grew older, there were more losses. Grandparents, friends, aunts, uncles, cousins, celebrities—my Dad. I had to find a way to deal with each loss, and what I did isn’t what’s right for everyone—or possibly anyone—else. I found a way to accept death and it comforted me. Some of that comes out in Southern Spirits. Some of it doesn’t. Some of each book I wrote in the series helped me cope with a loss of someone I loved. Not everyone, but believe me, there was a specific person in mind every time I sat down and worked on it.

That’s one of the reasons that I tell everyone Laine and Sev are my favorite characters. There’s a realness to them, to the entire series, for me because I put the memories of certain people in each book. That the people I’ve loved and lost could still be close in some way brought me comfort.

And the idea that someone could speak to the dead, interpret what they wanted to say, and converse with them in return? Well, it would be spooky but fascinating. And again, comforting, perhaps.

So that’s how the Southern Spirits series got its start, and why I wrote it the way I did. I hope y’all will enjoy the stories as much as I enjoyed writing them.

Bailey

Chapter One

Ezekiel Matthers stood looking down at his mother’s grave. She’d been gone for almost four years now, and he still couldn’t get used to the fact that he wasn’t going to see her again, at least not in this lifetime. There were mornings when he stumbled into the kitchen bleary-eyed from sleep and swore he could smell her perfume, a soft, sweet scent he had never encountered on anyone else. It always left him with the feeling that he had just missed her, like she had slipped out of the door to head to work right before he could hug her.

Enough, he muttered, kneeling down to place the bouquet of yellow roses he’d brought with him up against the tombstone. I sure do miss you, Mama. I bet you’re having the best birthday yet, dancing with angels on those golden streets. Zeke closed his eyes as a soft breeze caressed his skin, bringing with it a faint fragrance that somehow soothed his soul. The loneliness that was his ever-present companion still gnawed at him, but he pushed it down, as always.

Zeke had all but given up on finding someone to share his life with. When his mama was still alive, he hadn’t wanted to risk bringing trouble down on them, on his mother and sisters, by having a relationship out in the open. There had already been too much such trouble once people found out he was gay, and his mama and sisters had been confronted in town on more than one occasion. Ezekiel had, too, but it had never concerned him like it did when it happened to any of his loved ones. On top of that, somewhere in the darkest corner of his heart, Zeke had held out hope that his oldest sister, Eva, would eventually ‘come around’, as Mama had said she would. That hadn’t happened, and when Mama had died, the chasm between him and Eva had grown into what he feared was an unbridgeable size. Zeke didn’t know if he even had the strength, much less the desire to bother with trying to fix that sad relationship.

That gentle breeze seemed to nudge him, almost chastising him for his melancholy and defeatist thoughts. Zeke shook his head at his fanciful musing, saying a silent prayer for his mama before opening his eyes and standing. He grunted a bit when his right knee popped, something that gave him problems courtesy of a fight—an assault really, though calling it a fight made it somehow seem less personal, less planned. The damage to his knee, caused by a pipe and a few homophobes, was not extensive, but it did act up on occasion. All things considered, he figured he was lucky that was the severest injury he had sustained from the encounter. If Elizabeth and Enessa hadn’t overheard the men plotting minutes before and rushed to follow them… Well, he had no illusions. Those men had intended to get him out of McKinton, one way or another.

Giving one last glance to his mama’s grave, Ezekiel turned and headed for his truck, noting another vehicle pulling in to the cemetery. He squinted, recognizing Enessa’s little hybrid, which looked way too tiny for the number of people in it. Deciding he didn’t feel up to making conversation with whomever she had with her, Zeke waved in her direction and picked up his pace so he could leave before she even stopped her car. He groaned when he realized he wasn’t going to make it. Enessa parked and jumped out of her car, running straight for him.

Zeke! Wait! Enessa ran full tilt, almost careening into Ezekiel before stopping. He couldn’t quite hold back a grin. Nessa was just too sweet to stay irritated with for more than a few seconds. He caught her forearms, preventing her from teetering over courtesy of her sudden stop.

Thanks, Zeke! Enessa smiled up at him, eyes lit up like the Fourth of July. Why were you trying to run off?

He sighed, wanting only to get back to the ranch where he could keep himself busy with work. Nessa, I’m really not up to having to play nice with your friends right now, and I have a lot of work waiting for me at the ranch. Zeke tried to ignore the look she gave him, refusing to be guilted into hanging around.

But, Zeke…I just wanted to visit Mama and my friends were here, and you know Gloria. The other… Enessa trailed off.

Ezekiel put his arm around her shoulder, using it to steer her in the direction of her car, not paying any particular notice to the two people lingering by the hybrid.

Nessa, go visit Mama. Take your friends with you, do what you have to, honey, but I am just plain not in any mood to be chatty with your buddies, okay? Not right now. He watched her digest what he said, saw she wasn’t going to be hurt by it. Go on, now. Your friends are waiting for ya. Zeke tipped his head in their general direction, assuming that’s what they were doing.

Enessa surprised him with a big hug before she stood on her tiptoes and planted a smacking kiss on his cheek.

I’m not sure they’re waiting on me, but okay. Since you aren’t feeling very friendly right now and have so much work to get back to, would it be okay if I invite my friends over for supper? I’m making fried chicken and mashed potatoes, gravy and biscuits and—

Zeke laughed, shaking his head. One way or another, Nessa was going to make him meet her friends, and there was no reason he could think of not to do so this evening. Not without hurting her feelings, anyway.

Nessa, if you’re going to fix one of your homemade meals for supper, you can bring over the entire college campus for all I care. He hugged his little sister, maybe not so little now at twenty-three, but she’d always be little to him, especially as she was a good eight inches shorter than his own six-foot, three-inches.

"I’ll see you—and your buddies—at