Liquor & Love: McDonough Boys #1 Read online

  "I didn't roll through the—"

  Walker tipped his hat and then nodded to Earl. "Get back in the car, Earl. Hope you enjoyed the show."

  "Not as much as you did," Earl said.

  Walker made a scoffing sound and returned to his vehicle. He turned off the flasher and started the engine. Without checking his mirrors, he whipped into the street, drove to the corner, and made a sharp right without stopping at the stop sign.

  "Not a big fan of practicing what he preaches?" Peggy said.

  "That ain't the half of it." Earl dusted off his pants legs. "The man's dumb as a stump, but he has a mean streak. Do yourself a favor and stay outta his way, or he'll make you regret it."

  Yep, Peggy thought, so much for hospitality.

  Four

  "Here she is." They stopped a hundred yards from a large dark-green structure at the end of a half-mile cow path that turned away from the main road. "The barn."

  The way along the path was overgrown with bushes and green trees, the kind of foliage that Peggy was only used to seeing in the summer. The air was thick with humidity and dust, but even over those odors, she could smell peonies and honeysuckle in the air.

  "It sure is swell," she said.

  The green barn was as big as four houses. It had two massive doors on rollers, and a tin roof that went all the way around the building. Parked under the tin roof were at least a dozen cars. There were three Fords that were completely rebuilt and parked near the sliding doors. Another two were just skeletons of the chassis, their fenders and most of the bodies removed so that they were only four wheels and an engine. The barn looked more like a small-time assembly plant than a barn where grease monkeys came to hang out.

  "Don't just sit there." Earl slammed his door. "Let's go meet the boys."

  "If you say so." Peggy looked down and saw water pouring on the ground. Definitely a busted water pump. "From the way you described it, this should be an adventure."

  "That's a word for it," Earl said. "Now before we go in, I want to warn you not to get your sensibilities upset. These boys are the rawest of the raw, and they got the manners of an old slop pig."

  "I didn't know slop pigs had manners."

  "They don't. That's the point."

  "Don't let that trouble you," Peggy said. "I've heard just about everything that can be said in at least three different languages. Believe me, Mr. Earl, I can handle myself."

  "Everybody says that until they meet the McDonoughs, especially young women." He put his hat on. "By the way, it's plain Earl. No mister to it. Come on, before you change your mind."

  The first thing that struck Peggy as she walked into the garage was the swing music playing on a Victrola phonograph. Someone had run speakers to all four sides of the building, and Duke Ellington was blasting from all corners. It was so loud that it drowned out the noise of a '39 Chevy in the middle of the barn, where two young men were bent over the hood like a team of battlefield surgeons diagnosing the wounded.

  The second thing that struck Peggy was a greasy rag that came flying through the air, headed right for her head. Her left hand flew up, and with the practiced grace of a baseball catcher, she snatched the rag out of the air.

  "Heads up!" a wiry teenager with his hair slicked back yelled. He came around the revving Chevy with a goofy grin on his face, the hems of his dungarees rolled up. "That's what you get for—"

  The smile faded as quick as a wink when he realized that the person he had bombed was a pretty brunette in a skirt. It faded even further when the brunette tossed the rag to her right hand and fired it right back at the boy.

  It hit him square in the chest and left a grease stain on his white shirt.

  "That's quite a welcome," Peggy said. "People usually get to know me before they start chucking dirty rags."

  The teenager looked at the stain on his shirt, then back at Peggy. Without a word, he tapped one of the young men leaning on the Chevy. Peggy couldn't hear what he was saying, but she could read the expressions on both their faces.

  With a snap of a finger, the engine shut off, and the swing music stopped.

  "Much better," Peggy said. Without waiting for Earl to make any introduction, she walked briskly toward the taller man, her hand extended with a firm handshake. "My name is Peggy Fitzgerald of Dearborn, Michigan. My water pump has gone out, and I'm looking for a garage to do the work. Mr. Earl says that this is the place to be."

  "That's plain Earl," Earl said from behind her. "Ain't no mister to it, I told you." Wincing from his lumbago, he joined Peggy. "Boys, this young lady is looking for somebody to help her with her water pump."

  "I don't need any help, thank you," Peggy said. "Only a place to work."

  "I told her that you boys might be able to lend a hand. Peggy, this big, strapping young man is Bo McDonough. The little pipsqueak with too much motor oil in his hair is Lester, his youngest brother. The other is Red, short for Jared, I believe."

  "The McDonough boys. Your reputation precedes you." Peggy pushed her hand forward and gave it a little shake, meaning for Bo to take it. "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance. Now about the rental of garage space."

  The three males had a strong family resemblance, but only when they were standing all together. Apart, they looked as different as any three people chosen at random.

  The youngest, Lester, was small and quick. He talked fast, he moved fast, and he talked too much. His hair was cut short at the sides and stood up with a tragic cowlick over his right ear so that it looked like a rooster's comb from the side. He had light brown hair, hazel eyes, and a narrow face. He was thin, probably less than a hundred and twenty pounds, and his clothes hung loose on his body as if they were a size too big.

  Jared, the middle son, had hair the color of a forest fire. As with all redheads, his skin was milky white and speckled with light brown freckles. His hair was longer than the other two's and wavy, but combed back from his face. He was broad shouldered with a tapered waist, and he had big hands that looked more like paws. He was at least six inches taller than his younger brother and outweighed him by a good forty pounds. Where Lester was more like an empty frame, Red was filled out, with compact muscles. He had brown eyes and cherub cheeks that almost hid the devilish smile underneath.

  The oldest of the three was named Bo. He was taller than Jared, and with broader shoulders and a thicker waist. His arms, chest, and legs were all muscle, and his black hair was slicked back with pomade. He wore gabardine slacks and a light shirt with the short sleeves rolled up over his bulging biceps. He had the darkest features of the three, and smoky eyes that gave him a wary, dangerous work.

  Peggy's instincts told her to stay away from Bo, but one look at those eyes, and she felt a familiar churning in the pit of her stomach. She started to imagine what it would feel like to dance her hands over those delicious forearms, to run her fingertips through his hair, and to feel his breath on her ear.

  "You're pushy, ain't you?" Bo said. "I don't like pushy women."

  When Bo spoke, Peggy's fantasy ended. She recognized his voice immediately.

  It belonged to the man in Dodge pickup who had blocked the bridge earlier. Now that she got a good look at him, now that she watched him move and could feel the way the arrogance came off his skin like heat, she understood exactly what kind of man she had run into on the bridge.

  Peggy looked away, hoping that he'd not recognize her, and then looked back quickly when she realized that he probably had.

  Well, she thought, are you going to say something or not? She stared at him for several seconds, repeating the question in her head again and again. But he gave no hint that he recognized her, and Peggy realized that even if he had, he wasn't going to admit it.

  What a coward.

  "Do you boys do bodywork?" she asked. "I ask because today I got into a little bit of a fender bender with a Dodge pickup truck, and it did a number on my bumper. Do any of you happen to know the driver of a Dodge from around here? If so, I would like to hav
e a few words with the owner."

  "A Dodge?" Lester piped up. "We've got a—"

  Bo swatted him. "Shut up, Junior. No, lady, we don't have the tools to do bodywork here. This ain't a garage, you know."

  Lester giggled and stepped behind his brother like a first-grader looking around his mother's skirts on the first day at school.

  Bo picked up a shop rag and began removing the fresh oil from his fingers. He wiped slowly and methodically, a practiced maneuver, without ever taking his eyes off of Peggy. He looked her over like a one hundred percent American Boy would, from top to bottom in silent appreciation, as if he could see right through Peggy's clothes. She had never felt so naked in a man's eyes, and she found that she liked the feeling.

  "What's the matter?" she said. "Cat got your tongue?"

  "Something like that." Bo's voice was deep, like the echo from an oil drum. He turned his attention to Earl. "She's got a bad water pump, you say?"

  "Right as rain." Earl nodded. "Might be the water pump. Seems to think it might be a radiator hose, too. Might've sprung a leak from the whole cooling system."

  "It's the just water pump," Peggy said. "Trust me."

  But Bo McDonough didn't look like the kind of man to trust anyone, especially a pushy woman from north of the Mason-Dixon line, even though Michigan was actually west of the Mason-Dixon line. She was sure that he'd consider her a Yankee because of her accent and her straightforward manner and would have nothing to do with her. Southern boys were always the ones most put out by her direct mannerisms. She actually enjoyed affronting them and upsetting their notions of masculinity and femininity.

  "Take care of her, Lester," Bo grumped. "Red, let's get to work."

  He wound his fingers in a circle. He and Jared went back to work on the Chevy without a second glance toward Peggy.

  "We don't normally work on cars," Lester said while enthusiastically shaking Peggy's hand. "But we make exceptions now and again. Where'd you park your car? In town? I can get the tow truck out and meet you down there. We probably got an old water pump laying around that can work, or if you want new, we can order it down to the Five & Dime or the Western Auto. It'll be three or four days to get a part from Atlanta."

  "I'm parked outside," Peggy said. "My car is a '36 Ford. It has a 350 engine with a double barrel carburetor and four on the floor. I would be glad for you to tow it in here, for which I'm glad to pay you, but you're not touching my machine. From the looks of things, you boys rent space out to your buddies. That's all I'm asking for: A little space in your barn and access to your tools and if you have it, that spare water pump."

  "We only rent to fellers that are going to work on their own cars."

  "I'm obviously not a fellow," Peggy said, "but I'm more than capable of making my own repairs, thank you very much."

  Lester cocked his head as if she had spoken in a language he couldn't quite understand. "You're working on your own car?"

  How many times must I tell him? "My mother used to say that she didn't chew her cabbage twice," she said. "I follow the same philosophy."

  "I'd never chew my cabbage once," Lester said. "Hate the stuff."

  Peggy handed him a ten-dollar bill. "This is for access to your tools until the repair's made. Deal?"

  "Ten dollars?" Lester's eyes went wide. "Gosh darn, lady, you must be rich, offering that much money."

  Peggy felt herself blush a scotch. No, she wasn't rich, not by a long stretch. In the Army, she saved up her pay. There wasn't much to spend her script on, and it seemed like men were always willing to treat her to a meal or drink when the occasion arose. She had been able to set some aside, and she got a little bit of the life insurance when her father passed away. Most of it stayed with her mother.

  "If it's too much," Peggy said, folding the ten and stuffing it in her brassiere, "then I’ve got a couple of ones, as well."

  "No, no." Lester almost reached for the pot of gold containing the ten. "That would be just fine. Ten dollars sounds like a fair price to me."

  Peggy was in the process of pulling the ten out of her bra when Bo turned to his little brother and glared. He shook his head twice.

  "On second thought," Lester said, the message received. "What kind of gentleman would I be if I charged a lady in distress anything for helping her out? I'll go pick up the tow truck and haul your car inside."

  Lester tipped his hat and then disappeared out the side door. Peggy had many times heard the term "run like a scolded dog," but this was the first time she’d actually seen it happen.

  "What was that about?" she asked Earl. "He acts like he's just been disciplined."

  Earl chuckled and took her by the arm. "Did you see that look Bo gave him? One of the things you’re going to learn working with the McDonough boys is that they're short on words and long on meaning. You might have some trouble convincing them to let you work on your own car, but believe me, you'll have more trouble convincing them to take money."

  "All of that happened just now?" Peggy said.

  "Yes, ma'am." Earl led her into the bright light. The hot Georgia sun bore down on them, and Peggy shielded her face. "You know how menfolk are."

  No, Peggy thought, she didn't know how these men were. But they were intriguing enough that she wanted to learn more.

  Five

  "It's the water pump," Lester said proudly. He backed quickly from under the hood of Peggy's Ford and clapped his skull on the metal hook. "Ow! Goddammit! Oh, sorry, ma'am. Forgive my language. I keep forgetting that we're in mixed company."

  It had only been an hour since they had towed the Ford back to the barn, and Lester had already cussed a half a dozen times. The first four, Peggy forgave him, but she'd grown weary of that game and decided to ignore him, as if Lester was just an overgrown puppy with all the pep and energy.

  "Imagine that," Peggy said, allowing a bit of sarcasm to leak out in her voice. "The water pump. Whoever would have guessed it?"

  "Didn't you say it was the water pump?" Lester asked.

  "Me?" Peggy fanned her face with her hand. "Why yes, I might’ve mentioned that."

  "Are you being a smart aleck, ma'am?"

  "Very much so, young man."

  "Oh. Yeah." Lester looked back at his brothers, who were still working on the Chevy. "Well, like I said before there's probably a dozen different water pumps laying around, but I ain't entirely sure any of them would fit this Ford. It's a DeLuxe model, you know."

  "I know." Peggy unbuttoned her coat. She tossed it inside the Ford and pulled out her suitcase. "Are there any coveralls I can borrow?"

  Lester stared at her blankly. His eyes were locked on her chest, where her thin blouse was pressed against her brassiere. The poor kid had probably never seen a woman remove a stitch of clothing in his life.

  "Lester? Do you have any coveralls I can borrow?"

  Peggy snapped her fingers, and he jumped to attention.

  "Coveralls! Yeah, we got some. Hang on a minute while I’ve a looksee."

  That's not the looksee you'd like to have, Peggy thought and shook her head as he went to the back of the barn.

  She hunted around until she found a pair of work gloves. She set them on the fender of her car and waited until Lester returned.

  "Looks like these might fit you?" he said. "I used to wear them last year, until I went through my growth spurt. Shot up three inches in a couple of months."

  Since Lester was still an inch shorter than Peggy, she wondered how much of a spurt he’d gone through. "Thank you very much. Would you mind turning your back, please?"

  "Huh?" He jumped like he had been goosed. "Oh. Surely. You're wanting some privacy. Pardon my manners."

  He turned around briefly, but before he did, Peggy caught the hint of a grin on his face. She had to get used to the fact that the rules were different for civilian life. She’d gotten too used to dropping trouser in front of God and everybody. When you lived in the tent, decorum didn't matter so much. In the civilian world, it mattered much more
than it should. With practiced ease, she slid into the coveralls and zipped herself in. The fabric was pretty clean, with only a few grease spots on the cuffs.

  "You can turn back around." She pushed her feet into the boots and laced them up. "Could you be a dear and bring me a wrench set, a Phillips head screwdriver, and a rubber mallet?"

  "Sure," he said. "What you need those tools for?"

  "To work on my car," she said, wondering if he was intentionally deaf. "While you're at it, can you grab a jack? This will be easier if I'm able to go at it from both sides."

  "Both sides," he giggled.

  "Did I say something funny?"

  "No, ma'am! Not funny at all!" He turned and slammed into the side of the car. "Didn't see that fender! A jack! I need a jack!"

  Peggy smiled and shook her head. Lester's brother Bo might be a conceited ass, but this McDonough boy was beginning to grow on her.

  Six

  Fifteen minutes later, Peggy was beneath something warm and humming, although it wasn't necessarily the kind of warm and humming she would've preferred. Ever since returning to the States, she'd been celibate, a necessary side effect of her mission to find her father. Spending hours each day in the Atlanta public library and the Georgia records office was great for locating Frank Hogan, but it made finding a suitable male companion difficult, and Peggy was a gal who liked her companionship.

  She was long overdue for some warm humming.

  The Ford was up on blocks. The handbrake was set, and the water pump was completely removed. She rolled herself out from under the car on a back dolly, clutching the part she had taken off, her hands thick with grime and oil. Whoever had owned this jalopy before her had no idea how to maintain a vehicle. While she was under the car, she had noticed a couple of leaking seals and at least one gasket that needed changing. As she suspected, the car also needed a tune-up, the transmission fluid changed, and the radiator flushed.