Wicked Weatherford

Ric Williamson Memorial Highway gets people where they need to go—whether they meant to go there or not. When Alright, Diane, Hen, and their new friend Cinder all take a wrong turn, they remember something Weatherford has already lost.

Clyde takes over the microphone for the first installment of Clyde Reviews Weatherford Chews, offering his deeply serious and entirely unsolicited review of Drake's Yoke. He considers the food, the service, the atmosphere, and several customers who make the mistake of enjoying brunch within his line of sight. Beneath the complaints lies a grudging affection for a place between the bustle of Fort Worth and the home town quiet of Weatherford.

When the pastor of a small church in Fort Worth asks Alright to help a Brazilian mother trapped in an abusive marriage, an ordinary act of neighborliness uncovers something far more unsettling than domestic cruelty. As Inez tells her story, Alright begins to suspect that not every congregation in Parker County belongs to Weatherford in quite the same way. Some rumors are just gossip. Others are warnings. And some churches have doors that don't seem to open the way they're supposed to.

When Hen begins crying at Drake's Yoke, nobody is quite sure what to do. She has lost her grandmother, and once Hen starts grieving, Weatherford begins grieving with her—in its own peculiar way. Alright and Diane spend the day helping a friend through the kind of sorrow that cannot be fixed, though it may be carried together.

One morning, the old courthouse bell rings over Weatherford. That wouldn't be unusual, except the bell hasn't hung in the courthouse for years. Alright tries to look into it but the people of Weatherford quietly go about preparing for something nobody intends to explain. Welcome to Wicked Weatherford, where local history, ordinary lives, and the occasional impossible thing have learned to share the same roads.