by Zara Chase
“Don’t push your luck, Kincaid.” Drew bared his teeth at Isaac, making Farah laugh.
“You think we can have everything organized by Wednesday night?” she asked.
“Sure.” Drew indicated the pile of pictures and diary extracts they intended to put in the binders. “We’ll go down to my office in the morning and scan these into the computer. If you wanna help, babe, you could drive over to Pleasure on Monday and hit their print store. Get the scans laminated.”
“Sure, but why not use the office supply store here?” she asked.
“Because word will leak out,” Isaac answered before Drew could. “Bound to. You know how the town’s loyalties are split between the two families. Someone will see what you’re doing and feel obliged to mention it to one patriarch or the other.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Farah stretched as well. “Sure, I can make the trip to Pleasure.”
“Come on,” Drew said, standing up and extending his hand to her. “You look beat. Let’s turn in.”
“Oh, goodie!”
“I told you,” Drew said, flashing a disgusted look Isaac’s way. “She’s insatiable.”
“And she’s out of luck tonight. You need to sleep, sweetheart.” Isaac tapped her bare butt. “Go and wash your teeth like a good girl and we’ll tuck you in between us.”
“Meanies!”
She stuck her tongue out at them and disappeared into the bathroom, wiggling her butt around the doorframe.
Farah was determined to sweet-talk them into fucking her but must have fallen asleep immediately, flanked by the comforting presence of their large, warm bodies. The sun was already up when she awoke and Isaac’s space was empty.
“Morning, sleepyhead.” Drew’s handsome face loomed over hers.
“Morning.” His lips closed over hers for a long wake-up kiss. “Where’s Isaac?” she asked when he finally let her up for air.
“He had to go back. Duty called, but he said to say hi.”
“Ah, of course, his animals.”
“Exactly.”
Drew and Farah made love slowly, passionately, and for a long time. Then, while she cleaned up in the bathroom, he made her breakfast.
“I have to go,” she said, glancing at her watch. “Sunday lunch chez McLean is mandatory. Mind you, I’m not sure that Will and Josh will show today. In fact I’m sure they won’t, which will make the atmosphere a bit fraught.”
“Okay, darlin’, I guess I have to let you go. But first we need to go downstairs and do the scanning.”
“You did a good job with the décor down here,” she said when she stepped into his reception area. “But upstairs could use some work.”
“Feel free,” Drew replied. “Whatever you wanna do to it will work for me. I know you have a great eye for that sort of thing.”
Farah’s smile faded because she was reminded of her career in Billings. She would probably be declared fit to return to duty the next time she went to the hospital to have her wound checked out. Drew also needed to sign off on her mental health, of course, but he would if she asked him to. The question was, would she ask? Did she want to return to the career she’d worked so hard to forge for herself? As little as a week ago, the answer would have been an unmitigated yes. That was then. A hell of a lot had changed in her world over the past week and work was no longer her primary concern.
Drew and Isaac were.
But they hadn’t said anything about her quitting and remaining permanently in Sanctuary. Well of course they hadn’t! There was the small matter of the family feud to sort first. Get your priorities straight, Farah.
“Okay, babe,” Drew said, removing the final diary from the scanner. “That’s about it. All the stuff is in a file marked Mary-Ann. I’ve sent it to your e-mail.”
“That’s great. I’ll take it from there. You just keep all these pictures and books safe until we’ve confronted the parents with what we know.”
“That I can do.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “But now I’d best let you go. Drive carefully, and I’ll call you later.”
“You’d better.”
“Will you stop by here on your way back from Pleasure on Monday?” he asked as he walked her to her car.
“Of course.”
“I’ll count the minutes.” Drew opened the car door for her and stowed her overnight bag on the back seat. “I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
He waved until she disappeared around the corner and Farah couldn’t see him anymore. As she drove the short distance home she wondered whether by this time next week she’d no longer have to keep her relationship with Drew Baldwin secret. She shook her head, finding it hard to imagine but knowing she’d move heaven and earth to make it so.
Chapter Sixteen
Wednesday May 10th
The shack was unrecognizable. Farah had made sure of that. When not dashing to the copy shop at Pleasure, or spending time at the loft with Drew and Isaac—something she’d done every evening since their Saturday all-nighter—Farah had turned her interior designer eye to the tumbledown shack. Not usually a superstitious person, she’d convinced herself that if she didn’t get the ambience exactly right then the two families would never bury the hatchet.
Her parents showed no signs of relating regarding Will and Josh’s relationship with Tatum. Farah suspected that her mother would be willing to make the best of things, but her father remained adamantly opposed to the idea.
“They’re just rebelling, like youngsters do,” he said to Farah, trying to sound as though he was trying to convince himself as much as her. “They’ll get tired of playing games and toe the family line soon enough.”
“Why would they be so cruel, to you and Mom, not to mention Tatum?”
“Heck if I know,” her father had replied. “But they won’t get a civil word out of me until they apologize. And as for Tatum Baldwin, I know she’s your friend, but she won’t be setting foot on McLean land any time soon.”
Oh dear, such intransigence didn’t bode well, especially since Farah knew from Tatum that her parents were being similarly obstinate. She prayed that getting both sets of parents in the same room and hitting them with the true history of the feud would do the trick. If that didn’t change their minds—if they didn’t feel deeply moved when they heard the intimate details of Mary-Ann’s dilemma—then nothing would.
“Dad’s obviously inherited more of his grandfather’s stubbornness than he knows,” Farah said aloud, standing in the middle of the shack and observing it with a critical eye.
Isaac had fixed the wall where the gold had been found and plastered over the evidence. She’d swept it out, washed the stone floor, and removed the mildew from the walls. Isaac had repaired the windows that broke during the storm and washed them until they sparkled. Farah had found several bolts of brightly colored silky fabric in her parent’s loft. It was a bit faded but she’d tacked it to the walls and allowed it to drop in extravagant swatches all the way to the floor. There was no time to paint the walls so it cheered the place up and hid the worst of the decay.
The furniture already in the shack had been ruined in the storm so Drew and Isaac had hauled in a few tables and folding chairs. Farah had arranged the new furnishings in two groups. The families would want to keep their distance from one another—always supposing they both showed up. Farah didn’t want to give them any excuses to cut and run before she and Drew had laid out a few facts of life, so she made it easy for them by drawing up demarcation lines. Farah had even imported a couple of tall potted plants and, since there was no electricity in the shack, had placed large candles everywhere to create atmospheric lighting. The fire was roaring up the chimney, adding extra light and making the place seem quite cheerful.
Her mind drifted toward Drew and Isaac as she continued to make final adjustments while waiting for them to arrive. They were obviously keen for her not to return to her work in Billings, but hadn’t come right out and said so. Presumably they didn’t wa
nt to tell her how to live her life, which she appreciated. Even so, they were less than subtle with the hints they dropped, and she loved them for it, having too much fun to tell them she didn’t particularly want to go back to Billings either.
She smiled as she recalled Isaac returning from the drop-in center one evening with a leaflet advertising a three-day-a-week paid position for a study coach.
“I said I’d ask around, see if I could find anyone who’d be interested,” he had said. “Some of the kids have been persuaded to go back to school, but need a little extra help to keep up.”
Farah had just smiled and not responded. She didn’t respond to Drew either when he told her one of his patients was giving both her herself and her home a complete makeover. Drew could only help her with the former. Did Farah know anyone who would cast a professional eye over the lady’s apartment?
She loved them for caring but couldn’t think about her future career path until tonight was over.
“It looks real homely.”
Lost in a reverie, Farah hadn’t heard Isaac come in, and his voice made her almost jump out of her skin.
“Oh, hi.”
He came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. “You’ve worked wonders in a short time.”
“I hope it doesn’t all prove to be a massive waste of time.” Farah leaned back against him, tilting her head back so he could nibble his way down her neck, just the way she liked him to. “I still think the parents will cry off.”
“Mine won’t,” Drew said, walking in with a large cool box balanced on his shoulder. “We’ve all been at them, and they’re curious to know what we’re up to.”
“They know my folks will be here, right?”
“Oh yeah.” Drew rolled his eyes. “Trust me, they know.”
“Mine, too,” Farah said, helping Isaac to unload a basket of glasses and setting them out on a table covered with a crisp white cloth. “Daddy said he wouldn’t come unless he knew what it was about. I told him in that case the Baldwins would get to find out and he wouldn’t.”
“Clever girl!” Drew gave her a kiss. “No surer way to get them here.”
“Yes, but will they stay long enough to hear us out?”
“You worry too much.” Drew climbed a stepladder to fix up the large screen upon which Farah would project her images and extracts from the diaries. “You know what they say about curiosity, and both sets of parents are curious as hell.”
“Don’t pretend you’re not nervous, too.”
Drew jumped down from the step ladder and collapsed it. “If they’re not moved by what we have to tell them then they don’t deserve us.”
She smiled and kissed his cheek. “You always know exactly the right thing to say.”
“And you look pretty as a picture.”
Her two guys were always paying her compliments, but Farah especially appreciated this one because she’d spent a lot of time thinking about what to wear for this important get-together. She’d settled for a floaty skirt that came halfway down her calves and a thin long-sleeved top that sculpted her body. Her hair was freshly washed and hung down her back in a riot of unruly curls. She wore heeled mules and just enough makeup to give her confidence. Concealer was no longer necessary. Drew and Isaac had set her alight with their lovemaking, she now slept for hours at a time without having nightmares, and her skin glowed without any help from cosmetics.
Her outfit was probably too summery for the time of year, but she always got warm when she was nervous. And Farah had never had greater occasion to feel anxious. It was only her entire future on the line.
“Game on,” Isaac said when a truck pulled up outside.
Tatum bound into the room with Will and Josh.
“Wow, what have you done to our shack?” she asked, hugging Farah.
“Just a few home improvements,” Farah replied, hugging her right back. “Trying to set the scene.”
“You’ve done a great job,” Will said, hugging her as well.
Farah watched her brother to see how he would react to Drew. Tatum had said they were good with one another. That might be so, but this was the first time since Farah had hooked up with Drew that she’d seen him in the same room as her brother and cousin. She expelled a relieved sigh when the men hesitated, laughed, and then shook hands.
“We ought to take a picture,” Tatum said. “When did Baldwins and McLeans last occupy the same room without trying to kill each other? Now we have you shaking hands.”
Will laughed. “Anything for you, babe.”
“Getting us to shake is one thing,” Josh said. “We’re in the same situation as you, but in reverse, so we need to stick together. Getting the parents to put aside their differences won’t be so easy.”
“That’s why we’re so keen to hear what you have to say,” Will said. “It’ll have to be dynamite to get through our fathers’ stubborn skulls, but I guess I don’t need to tell you that.”
“Oh, it is,” Farah said. “Come on, guys. Get yourselves a drink. We need everyone loosened up before we get this show on the road.”
The brothers from both families arrived quickly after that, their significant others helping to offset the uneasy truce. The mood was tense, conversations stilted, but Farah could tell that both sides were trying to keep open minds. The Baldwin clan drifted to one side of the room, just as Farah had predicted, the McLeans to the other. Tatum and her men, Farah and hers, occupied no-man’s land.
“Here come Mom and Dad.”
Even Drew sounded tense as he went to the door to greet them. Joseph and Belinda hugged their son and then went straight up to their family’s trench, completely ignoring the McLeans. What conversations there had been now ceased altogether.
“Let me get you a beer, Dad,” Jackson said. “And white wine for you, Mom?”
The drinks had just been handed out, and a low hum of uneasy conversation resumed, when Caleb and Mary McLean walked in. They behaved in exactly the same way, giving Farah a quick hug and then going straight to their family and ignoring the Baldwins. Farah rolled her eyes, wondering what else she could have expected. Still, at least they were here.
Now it was up to her.
“What all this about, Farah?” her father asked.
“That’s what I’d like to know, too, son,” Joseph Baldwin said, addressing his comment to Drew.
“Better start the ball rolling,” Drew said in an aside to Farah. “They don’t look in the mood to hang about for long.”
“Thank you all for coming,” Farah said, clearing her throat, and immediately getting everyone’s attention without raising her voice. “I know you didn’t want to come, Mom and Dad, and I’m sure the same could be said of you, Mr. and Mrs. Baldwin.”
“Damned straight,” Joseph replied.
“Tatum’s in love with my brother Will and my cousin Josh,” Farah said. “You all know that, and I couldn’t be happier for them.” She paused. “What you probably don’t know is that I’m in a similar situation with Drew and Isaac.”
“What!” Both fathers stood up, faces puce with rage, looking ready to get physical with one another.
“Farah.” Her father glowered at her. “How could you possibly do this to us?”
“Sorry, Daddy, but I’ve loved Drew for years. I just didn’t dare to say so because I didn’t want to upset you.”
Her father shook his head. “Bit late for that.”
“Farah, you should have talked to me first,” her mother said.
“Drew,” Joseph said. “You trying to put me straight back in that hospital? I thought better of you than that.”
“And what would you have told me, Mom?” Farah asked. “I’m sorry, but this is my life and I’ve wasted enough of it, ignoring my true feelings and trying to please you. Now I’m going do what pleases me.”
“Good for you, sis,” Alex said quietly.
“I won’t be separated from Drew and Isaac,” she said, “but I don’t want to be separated from my famil
y, either.”
“You should have thought of that sooner,” her father said, still glowering. “You can’t have both.”
“Same goes for you, Drew,” Joseph said. “You have a tough choice to make.”
“I think we can have both, which is why I asked you all to come here.” Farah paused and straightened her shoulders. She grabbed Drew’s hand and Isaac slid an arm around her waist. They always seemed to know when she needed reassurance. The atmosphere reverberated with malevolence, reminding her of just how high the stakes actually were. Did she really think she could cut through such deeply entrenched prejudices? She glanced first at Drew, then Isaac. Her heart melted with love for them both and she knew she had to try. “What started the feud between the two families, Daddy? Do you know?”
“I know,” Joseph replied. “You damned McLeans stole our Confederate gold and then used it to purchase that two-thousand-acre piece of land between our spreads. This piece of land we’re standing on right now.” He sniffed. “Talk about adding insult to injury by bringing us here, young lady. Not that the purchase was legal, of course, and my lawyers will eventually prove that.”
“Bullshit!” Caleb shouted. “We McLeans don’t need to steal.”
“Please, gentlemen! You’re behaving no better than sixth-graders.” Isaac stood between the two scowling patriarchs, lifting his hands like a conductor about to wield a baton. It had the desired effect. Both men grunted but backed off without blood being split, leaving Farah with the floor again.
“You’re wrong, Mr. Baldwin,” she said. “The dispute started after the war, and I can prove it.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Joseph snapped.
“I’d like to hear this,” Jackson said. “And I think you should too, Dad.”
Several voices murmured their agreement. Joseph grunted, shuffled his feet, and scowled at the scarred floor beneath them. Eventually he resumed his seat, muttering beneath his breath, and folded his arms defensively across his chest.
“Knock yourself out,” he said grudgingly.