Jane stared at Prett's outstretched hand. Breakfast, a job, and a place to stay. Too good to be true. But when she looked up, his warm brown eyes expressed only kindness. She acquiesced with trepidation. She shook his hand, and her expectation of rough calluses was instead met with a smooth, gentle grip.

"After brachfast we'll git the room set up," Prett said to his brothers just as a pinging came from his front pocket. He pulled out an iPhone, typed a quick text, and returned it to his pocket.

Even hillbillies nowadays have smart phones.

Viking Val signed.

"That wud be improper," Prett replied.

Gorgeous Val signed.

"And ye'd be the one to seggest sech a thang, w'un ye' Val?"

Gorgeous Val rolled his eyes and signed an apparent clarification.

"That dun improve the idee much." Prett's phone pinged again and he pulled it out. "Neh, we'll set up a baid. In the hotel. Shan't delay us by more'n half an ahr." He typed a longer reply this time.

Jane added sugar and creamer to her coffee to fill the awkward silence with activity. After a minute she could stand it no longer. "So, you're both really named Val?"

The two nodded.

"Is that short for something?"

They nodded again and each flew their fingers. Jane shook her head. They each then drew a heart shape on their chests.

"Heart?"

They shook their heads.

"Oh! Valentine?"

They smiled and nodded.

Jane gave a short laugh. "You're both named Valentine?"

"Though technik'ly," Prett said, putting his phone away and giving a nod to his Viking brother, "he's VAL-en-tine. And he's," he gave a nod to his gorgeous brother, "Val-EN-tin-e."

"Velentinny?"

"Spailed the same, pronounced diff'rent."

"That's just crazy. What were your parents thinking? Are you twins or something?"

The Vals shook their heads.

"But you're brothers?"

"They's mah brothers. They's cousins to each other."

Jane laughed. "You're putting me on." She looked at the two Vals. "You're not brothers?"

They looked at each other before Gorgeous Val signed an answer.

"Not by blood," Prett interpreted.

"Cousins?" she asked, and they nodded. "First cousins?"

"Secont cousins. Oncet removed."

Jane turned to Prett. "Are they your cousins, too?"

"Now that'd jest be unnatural."

"Are you telling her about your brothers being cousins?" The waitress had arrived with their food. She said to Jane, "Don't believe a word he says."

"I ain't tellin' lies," Prett objected.

She set a plate in front of him. "You're either brothers or you're cousins. It's too weird to be both."

"Never said it weren't weird. Just factual." Prett's phone pinged again. He didn't reply to the text.

The waitress handed out the last plate. "You leave her alone, now."

"I intend to let her eat."

Jane stared at the scrambled eggs, hash browns, bacon, sausage, and pancakes placed in front of her. Way too much. She turned to Prett. "Thank you for this."

"That's what I do."

What does that mean? "I usually just have yogurt and granola."

"What a coincidence," Prett replied between mouthfuls. "So does Val." Gorgeous Val just smiled.

Jane concentrated on eating and the conversation lagged. A few minutes later, Prett snapped to his dark-haired brother, "Val, ye' need to put yer coveralls back on. Or change seats. Yer givin' Miss Jane the tremblin' fits."

"What?" Jane exclaimed.

Gorgeous Val guffawed, while Viking Val, having just taken a drink of coffee, erupted into coughing laughter.

"Val here has a history ah sendin' wimmen into the tremblin' fits ah adoration and desire. It be his purty eyes 'n long eyelashes. No man shune have lashes that lenth. Goes 'gainst the very laws ah nature. I'd'a put him down long ago fer the 'bomination, but he's mah brother."

"Um, I'm not ..." Jane lowered her forkful of hash browns. Ok, so I was sneaking peeks at him. Who wouldn't? He's gorgeous. But trembling fits? Where– "Oh. I'm not shivering because of that. I'm just cold. I can't seem to get warmed up."

"Coldt? Ye' shune'a said somethin'." Prett pointed to Viking Val. The latter pulled out a bundle he was half-sitting on and handed it over.

"Oh, no, I don't need–" But Prett ignored her protest as he shook out his coat and flung it around her shoulders.

"There, that shune hep." He turned back to his breakfast.

Tears sprang to Jane's eyes. Don't cry. Don't cry. But why is he being so kind? Brandon was never this kind. Don't think about that. Think about how good those pancakes look.

"Put them coveralls back on anyhow, Val," Prett said. "Yer startin' to distract me."

Gorgeous Val pointed to Prett, swirled his fingers, and plucked his forehead.

"What does he mean by that?" Jane asked.

Prett looked at his brother with consternation. The latter grinned. "It's jest a name Val calls me when I ain't free to pound 'im fer it. But he'll pay fer his insolence later."

"Oh." He doesn't want to tell me. But he'll give me his coat. Jane pulled it tighter around herself, catching the scent of sawdust mixed with Old Spice. Dad. What would he say if he saw me now? Broke, homeless, and taking up with the local rustics. Brothers and cousins. "It's like a riddle."

"What is?" asked Prett.

Jane startled. I said that out loud. "Brothers that are cousins."

"It's a conundrum."

"Did your dad marry sisters or something?"

Prett shrugged. "Most jest chalk it up to backwoods inbreedin' 'n drop it."

"So how'd you end up with the same name?" she asked the Vals. "Only pronounced differently." They smiled but didn't answer.

"Well, Velentinny were sech a purty baby," Prett said, looking at his darker brother, "half the county were named after 'im in adulation. Mostly jest the gals, though." He indicated his red-haired brother. "Valentine here were the exception."

"Doesn't it get confusing to call them both Val?"

"Never been a problem."

"Well, it would confuse me." She turned to the Vals. "Can I call you Valentine and Velentinny?"

"They'd a'think they was in treble iffen ye' did that."

"What about middle names, then?"

"Daniel."

"Which one?"

"Both."

Jane laughed. "You have the same middle names, too?" The Vals nodded. "Okay, but your last names are different." They shook their heads.

"Same last names," Prett said.

"You're putting me on." The men shook their heads. "So which one is older, you?" She pointed to Gorgeous Val, who nodded.

"By three months," Prett offered.

Jane snorted. "Okay. So how about I call you 'Val Senior' and you," she pointed to Viking Val, "'Val Junior?'"

"No!" Prett's reaction was visceral. Viking Val scowled and suddenly avoided eye contact.

"Then what?" Her voice squeaked.

Gorgeous Val scowled. He rummaged in his coveralls and pulled out a small notepad and pen. He scribbled and handed it to Jane. She furrowed her brows at the tiny chicken-scratch letters.

"Danny?" she asked, and he nodded. "You want me to call you 'Danny?'"

Prett and Viking Val's dark moods lifted. They exchanged glances, and the latter smirked, pointed to Gorgeous Danny, stroked his chin and then pointed at Jane. Prett nodded in agreement.

"What's this?" Jane imitated Viking Val's chin stroke.

Gorgeous Danny jabbed his brother–cousin–with his elbow before returning to his meal, smiling and shaking his head.

Jane also resumed focus on her pancakes, trying not to smile. He's sweet on me. Too bad he's such a hillbilly. After a couple minutes' silence, she asked Prett, "Where are you from? Originally, I mean."

"Kentucky."

"What brought you here?"

"Weren't mah idee. Got kidnapped. Hogtied, throwed in the back ah a Toyoty 'n driven here against mah will. Been here ever since."

"That's–" A sudden crash of breaking glass from the kitchen interrupted Jane. But more startling than the noise was seeing Viking Val and Gorgeous Danny react to it, too. "You're not deaf?!" she exclaimed.

Danny grinned, shaking his head.

"Then why haven't you talked?"

Danny twisted his index knuckle near his lips.

"You can't talk? Why?"

He shrugged.

Jane looked at Val. "What about you?"

Val gestured to himself with his thumb and pinky out and his middle fingers down.

"What's that mean?"

"He's the same way," Prett said.

"So you can hear but you can't talk."

Danny shrugged, while Val nodded.

"That's–" Weird. She stopped herself from saying it out loud.

"They make me do all the talkin'," Prett said. Danny replied to him, ending with his signature gesture.

"Why does he keep calling you 'beautiful?'"

Prett looked stunned. "How do ye' know that?"

"Because I know this–" Jane signed awkwardly as she spoke, "You're beautiful. I love you. Will you marry me?" Her cheeks grew hot.

"She's talkin' to ye', Val," Prett said to Danny. "Toldt ye' to cover up."

"No, no. My best friend had a deaf older brother. I learned some sign language from them. I memorized those phrases in case..." This is so embarrassing. "In case he ever said it to me one day." She smiled sheepishly. "But he didn't. And I don't know any more signs than that." She looked at Val. "What does this mean?" She circled her finger around her face then turned her hand out with her thumb and pinky up, attempting to copy his earlier gestures. "It's kinda like 'beautiful' and 'love' but it isn't, is it?"

Val's eyes grew wide, like he'd been caught raiding a cookie jar. He looked to Prett to save him.

A flicker of sadness passed through Prett's eyes. "It jest means 'resemblance'. Ye' remind us ah an oldt friend is all. Nothin' more'n that."

"Oh," Jane said. A musical tone rang from Val's vicinity, and he searched through his bunched coveralls before pulling out his own iPhone. He smiled and composed a lengthy reply. These guys sure are popular.

The waitress swung by their table, and Prett requested his check and a box for his uneaten pecan roll. His phone pinged, and he scowled at this new message, giving a short response.

"We have to stop at GiGi's," he groused. "She's got another fer our route."

"GiGi's?"

"Genevieve Gingery. Our employer." The waitress dropped off the small box and bill. Prett put the pecan roll into the box, and to Jane's surprise, held it out to her. "Fer ye'," he said. "Fer later. Or fer now, iffen beyond all comprehension yer still hungry."

"Oh, no, I'm not..." She meant to say "not hungry," and decline it, since Prett had already been generous enough, but relented at his kind expression. "Uh...thanks. And thanks again for breakfast. And...for hiring me."

Prett shrugged. "Ye' maht not be thankin' me when ye' see all the walls and ceilin's to pint. Now scootch."

Danny and Val stood too, putting their arms back into their coveralls. Val towered over Jane by a good foot and a half, and she backed away. He gave her a shy smile as he plucked a leftover sausage off her plate and ate it. Danny and Prett were similar to each other in height, which was about eight inches shorter than Val. Jane slipped Prett's coat off her shoulders.

"No, ye' keep it on." He pulled out his wallet. "I won't need it fer a spell." He handed the ticket along with several twenty-dollar bills to the waitress, telling her, "We'll stop by later this afternoon, iffen that works."

The woman's eyes flooded with tears. "Oh, you've done so much already. Are you sure?"

"GiGi'd have my head if I didn't."

The waitress threw her arms around Prett's shoulders in a tight hug. He looked uncomfortable. She released him. "I know you don't like that, but how else can I thank you?"

"I've toldt ye'," Prett replied, tapping his left cheek. She laughed and gave him a quick kiss before hurrying off to another table of patrons.

Prett spotted Mr. Turney on their way out of the café. "Gavin!"

"Yeah?"

"'I was hungry and ye' gave me food, I was thirsty and ye' gave me drink, I was a stranger and ye' welcomed me.'"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'd'a hoped ye'd understand."

"No one understands you, hick! Or your retarded brothers!"

"Merry Christmas right back at ye'." Prett didn't smile, but his eyes glittered.

They entered the vestibule and Prett insisted Jane wear his coat over hers. The sleeves were too long, the bottom edge skimmed her knees, and the hood obscured most of her vision. But she was warm.

Outside, the truck stop bustled with activity. Jane pointed out her snow-covered car, the hissing brakes of a semi drowning out her words. Prett insisted she wait in the car while he and his brothers scraped off the ice. She turned on the defroster at his request, knowing it took a good half hour to warm up."Is ye' comferble drivin' on these here aicey roads?" Prett asked her when they'd finished.

"Um..."

"I'll drive, than. Ye' ride shotgun." He offered his hand, but she didn't take it as she exited the driver's seat. "Val!" Prett called, and Danny sprang to her side.

Jane shook her head, but when her foot slid on a patch of ice, she accepted Danny's arm. She noticed for the first time he limped. Was he hurt? Born that way?

Val opened the passenger-side door, and Jane swiped a couple empty ramen noodle packages off the seat before sliding into it.

Prett fueled the car while Val and Danny retrieved their own vehicle, a crew cab pickup with a snowplow on front and a topper on the back. Soon they were on the road, Prett following the Vals' truck towards the nearby town. Not that I know where he's taking me. There's probably not a bed-and-breakfast. Or a job. He could do anything to me. No one would care. No one would miss me. Jane held the small box in her lap. Everyone has a price, and this is mine. A little kindness and a couple caramel pecan rolls.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Please help me improve my writing by pointing out problems. And if you like what you read, please click the Vote button below. And I love comments! 😊

Fun Fact: At a wedding several years ago, I discovered the groom's brother's name was Valentine. I immediately knew I had to use it–and I knew where!

Valentine would be the perfect foil for his older brother, 1870s gunslinger Prett. The brothers fought on opposite sides of the Civil War, and hadn't seen each other in years. Then one fateful day they find themselves playing at the same poker table in a saloon in Tennesee...

...And that's as far as I've gotten with that story. LOL

So...this novel isn't the original one I had in mind, but that's okay. I've decided these brothers–Prett, Val & Danny–are descendants of those original gunslingers. 😄 Our contemporary Prett might even mention it at some point.

And my inspiration for the original brothers having been in the Civil War is my great-grandfather, Enoch Aurand. Here's a photo of him in his Ohio Infantry uniform, circa the 1860s. I believe the woman is one of his sisters.

As for where I came up with the name of Prett...well, Prett is short for something, but you'll just have to wait till Chapter Eight to find out what..and who I got it from. 😊

Be sure to vote and comment! ⤵