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Their Lusty Little Valentine [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

Page 19

by Cara Covington


  Finally, Preston said, “We’re glad you can defend yourself, kitten. But it’s our job to see to it that you don’t ever have to.”

  Samantha laughed and then stretched up and put a kiss on Preston’s lips. “Yep, you’re lawyers, all right.”

  “Our woman’s a smart-ass,” Taylor said.

  “We need to get to Houston so we can buy us a paddle,” Charlie said. “I have a feeling we’re going to need one.”

  “Do you know, that just got me really horny?” She took a moment to place equally chaste kisses on Taylor’s and Charlie’s lips. Then she sighed. “Why don’t we just go inside and see who’s here?”

  Preston sighed. “Yeah. A paddle would be a really good idea.”

  “But you said I was in charge outside of the bedroom.” She slid her glance to the side to see how they took that.

  “Well, of course you are, under normal circumstances,” Taylor said.

  “Which means that rule is more or less suspended if there’s cause for caution where your security is concerned.” Preston had taken on what Samantha had decided was his professional tone.

  Samantha nodded her head. “Good. I thought you three were just a little too good to be true. With a codicil like that, a smart lawyer could argue that caution is always warranted where my security is concerned.”

  Charlie placed a kiss on her head. “Sounds like there’s only one solution to this conundrum.”

  “Yes,” Samantha agreed. “I’ll just have to become a smarter lawyer than y’all.”

  Samantha admitted to herself, when all three men chuckled, that their sense of humor was one of the things she loved best about her men.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Her foot had caught on the edge of the front door mat as her latest thought echoed through her mind. Her men. It didn’t seem to matter to her subconscious what problems lay in the road ahead for the four of them. Preston, Taylor, and Charles Kendall were hers.

  “Nothing’s wrong. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was placing my feet, is all.”

  She was grateful that none of them called her out on that obvious lie. Instead, Preston nodded to his brothers, then preceded them into the house.

  The sound of voices in happy conversation, coming from the dining room, didn’t completely set the men at ease—but she thought they might have gone from red alert to yellow.

  They found the family gathered around the table, a pitcher of tea and a plate of cookies out, and Chelsea opening a small, wrapped parcel.

  Preston must have recognized the stranger. That, and the fact that he was accompanied by four young boys, reduced the threat considerably.

  “Noah!”

  The man was slightly older than the triplets, his light brown hair flecked with tiny strands of silver. With a broad nose, deep inset blue eyes, and slightly weathered skin, he put her in mind of Hollywood heartthrob Steve McQueen.

  Samantha looked from him to the four boys—two who looked to be teens and the other two, twins and adolescents—and judged they were all his.

  Noah got to his feet and shook Preston’s hand—and then greeted Taylor and Charles. The boys were introduced as Carl, Ronald, Braden, and Craig Kendall.

  Noah had a nice smile, and since he was a Kendall, Samantha had no problem returning it. Charles got her a seat next to his mother, and when she looked at her, Miranda winked.

  “Noah is Thomas Kendall’s youngest son,” Jeremy said “You recall that we told you Thomas and his four brothers came to Lusty when they were just boys, and when their mother passed on, of course, they stayed.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I do remember you telling me about them,” Samantha said.

  “Our Samantha has been learning the family history,” Preston said. He poured her a glass of tea, and then took a seat at the table.

  “What brings you to Lusty, Noah?” Charlie asked.

  “I’m on my way to Houston. I got transferred there. When Dad heard I’d be driving instead of flying, he wanted me to stop in and pay my respects—and bring something he’d made for ‘Aunt Chelsea.’ I would have stopped in anyway, to introduce my boys. I want them to see where we came from, and to meet their extended family.”

  Samantha did remember the story of the five boys and sick mother who’d been abandoned by their father—Adam Kendall’s brother, Isaiah. From the sounds of things, that part of the story had been buried in the past, where it no doubt belonged.

  “It’s good to know your roots,” Samantha said. “What is it that you do, Mr. Kendall?”

  “I work for Jefferson Oil. I’ve been a regional sales manager in Pennsylvania but I was offered a transfer to the head office.”

  “Is Margaret joining you?” Taylor asked.

  Noah looked at her. “Margaret is my second wife, and the mother of these two ragamuffins.” He indicated the younger boys. “Yes, she’s flying into Houston next week. Long car trips make her ill. This way, she could finish packing up the house and supervise the moving company without all of us men underfoot.”

  “Oh, look at this!” Chelsea had finished opening her gift. It was a beautiful carved horse, chocolate brown with a white chest. Reared up on its hind legs, the carving shimmered with lifelike authenticity.

  “Why, that’s lovely!” Miranda said.

  “Your father still has a fine touch,” Chelsea said. “I’ll have to write him and tell him how very much I appreciate this thoughtful gift. Look, Jeremy, Dalton. It’s—”

  “Why, it’s Trudy, right down to the one white hoof!” Jeremy Kendall gently lifted the carving. “Thomas has a good memory, too.”

  “A horse named Trudy?” one of the twins asked.

  “Not just a horse,” Chelsea said, “but my horse. My father, Caleb, gave him to me when I was about your age.”

  “Trudy was a boy horse?” the other twin asked, aghast.

  Chelsea laughed. “He was indeed, the poor old boy. I insisted on the name, you see, and even after I was told that was a girl’s name…” Chelsea sighed. “I’m afraid I was a little stubborn when I was young.”

  “A little?”

  “Was?”

  Jeremy and Dalton had spoken at the same time. Everyone, including Chelsea, laughed. Then she smiled at Noah. “I’m so very happy you came today. You’re right, of course. It is good for children, especially, to know where, and who, they come from.”

  “Grandfather often talks of how the family took him under your collective wing and taught him how to read and write, and that your father taught him how to whittle.” Carl, the oldest boy, seemed to be possessed of a sober disposition. “He said that one nurtured his mind and the other his soul.”

  “Do you know, I remember him saying that very thing to me?” Chelsea nodded. “If you wouldn’t be too bored, I would be pleased to show you a photo album or two with pictures of your grandfather, his brothers, and their mother, before she passed.”

  Carl perked right up at that. “I wouldn’t be bored, ma’am.”

  “You may call me Grandma Chelsea. I’m not really your grandmother, of course. But it would make things easier.”

  “You can be our honorary grandmother,” Ronald said.

  “That way we aren’t all alone in Texas,” one of the twins said.

  Samantha thought she would always love those children for putting such a beautiful smile on Chelsea’s face.

  * * * *

  Derek’s hands sweat as he placed the call.

  He was glad his brothers were here, one on either side of him. They were in their home office, of course, because this particular phone had an intercom. He really hoped that whichever man they ended up speaking with didn’t mind their using it.

  This really was too important a moment for just one of them to experience.

  The phone was picked up on the fourth ring.

  “Good evening, Kendall residence.”

  The voice sounded young, and female, and Derek needed a half second to find his voice, because he hadn’t expected that.


  He’d been prepared for one or the other of the men to answer the call himself.

  “Good evening. This is Derek Robbins calling. I’d like to speak with either Martin or Nicholas Kendall, please.”

  “Oh! Oh, yes, Mr. Robbins. One moment, please.”

  He really didn’t wait very long at all.

  “This is Martin Kendall. I’m glad you called, Derek.”

  “Mom wanted us to. But it was a tough decision for us to make.”

  “I can completely understand that. Are your brothers there with you?”

  “Yes, sir. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if I put this call on the speaker, so they could hear, too?”

  “Yes, of course. Will you allow us the same privilege? Nick and I are in our home office, and the door is closed.”

  It had never occurred to Derek that the Kendalls would have a speakerphone, too. “That’s fine.” Then he grinned. “Should we do a countdown?”

  Martin Kendall chuckled. “That’s something Nick would suggest. Let’s just press the necessary buttons.”

  “Done.” Derek set the receiver down and looked at his brothers.

  “Hello, Derek, Keith, and James. I’m Nick. I’m very sorry—we both are—for your recent loss. We hadn’t seen your mother in many years, but at one time she was important to us both.”

  “You were important to her, too, sir. I’m Keith.”

  “Hello, Keith, and James. I’m Martin. And I wanted to let you know, we’ve closed the door for your privacy. Our wife and sons know of you. We shared the news immediately when we received Judith’s letter.” Martin paused, and Derek looked at each of his brothers. “We all hope that you’ll find an opportunity to come to Texas. We’d like to meet you—and we’d like for you to meet us.”

  “We have discussed that, sir,” James said. “I hope you won’t take offense that we haven’t yet decided on that.”

  “No, of course we aren’t offended,” Nick said. “I can’t imagine what these last months have been like for the three of you. First having to deal with losing your mother, and then discovering that you—well, that you’ve got two fathers whom you’d never even met.”

  “That’s the weird part.” Keith leaned forward. “That we have two fathers.”

  “Um, sir? You said that your wife knows about us?”

  There was a long pause. Then Martin said, “You’re allowed to think it’s weird because we know the way we live isn’t the norm. The truth is that Nick and I married our wife, Miranda, in 1942. We met her a couple of months after…”

  Derek thought he was either having trouble thinking about that time, or was trying to be diplomatic. “Sir, Mother made it clear to us that she thwarted your attempts to contact her after she returned to New York. She also told us that you’d both been serious about her.”

  “I know Mom will forgive us, but we thought she was trying to…” Jamie couldn’t finish that sentence.

  “You thought she was trying to sugarcoat the events of that summer,” Nick said. “She wasn’t. We were serious about her.” He sighed. “And, quite frankly, heartbroken when we realized that she’d chosen to not see us ever again.”

  They had so many questions, but they’d chosen only one. Then they needed to tell them why they’d really called.

  “You said we have family there?” Derek asked.

  “You do. You have half brothers. Northrop is in England at the moment. He’s twenty-eight. And…Preston, Taylor, and Charles are triplets, too. They’re twenty-seven. Our parents are still alive—our mother’s name is Chelsea and our dads are Dalton and Jeremy. Mom has one brother left living, but our father’s brothers are gone. We have brothers, too—three of them…” Martin sighed, and then chuckled. “I think we probably need to write it all out for you.”

  “So we actually have cousins by the dozens?” Jamie asked.

  “Something like that, Jamie.”

  Derek was surprised that Martin already recognized their voices.

  “Sir, as we said, calling you was a difficult decision, but one that was exacerbated by very recent events.” He met Keith and Jamie’s gazes. So far the Kendalls seemed to be reasonable men.

  “Is this about your mother’s estranged husband?” Nick asked.

  “Very intuitive that you would call him that, sir.” Keith ran a hand through his hair.

  “Were you aware that he attempted to sue us?” Martin asked.

  “What? No! He tried to sue you?” Derek looked at Keith, who’d exploded out of his chair.

  “Damn it, Derek, I told you that dickless bastard was up to no good.”

  “Attempted, sir?” Jamie asked.

  “Apparently, he’s made a bit of a career for himself out of suing people and companies in civil court. It had worked well for him, too, from what we could tell.”

  “Do I take it that rather than just pay the man to go away, you showed up in court and disputed his claims? And, if we may ask, what claims?”

  “Alienation of affection and marital interference, both to do with his relationship with your mother,” Martin Kendall said. “Apparently Nick and I were the reason that your mother left him.”

  “Bullshit,” Keith said. “Our mother left the bastard because he smacked her and pushed her down a small flight of stairs.”

  “What?” Derek wasn’t alone in his shout. Jamie echoed him, and, if he wasn’t mistaken, so did the Kendalls.”

  “Fuck.” Keith ran a hand through his hair. “Mom made me promise not to tell you guys. I got there just after the fact. I helped her pitch his stuff out onto the sidewalk. Mom claimed he’d had too much to drink that night, but that’s no excuse. No man worthy of the name raises his hand to a woman. Not ever.”

  “You’re right, Keith,” Nick said. “Listen, your mother had her reasons for not cutting him out completely. When you gentlemen come down to visit, we’ll show you the letter she sent us. In the meantime, we do have a PI firm on retainer, with directions to look into his habits, associates, and activities. We’ll call them in the morning and let them know the situation has now become critical. We didn’t know he had a propensity for violence. I think we’ll all feel better if we can take action against Robbins and get his ass hauled into jail.”

  “Sir? The situation really has become critical.” Derek didn’t bother to keep the concern out of his voice. One phone conversation, that was all they’d had with these men, and already they had shown more concern and caring than their mother’s husband ever had—even when they believed he was their father. “The reason we decided to call tonight is that we’ve just found out the bastard isn’t in New York City at this moment.”

  “He was there this morning when the judge tossed his case,” Nick said. “Okay, so if he’s not in New York, where is he?”

  Derek looked at Keith, and then Jamie. Both men nodded. “Well, sir,” Derek said. “We think he’s on his way to see you.”

  Chapter 20

  “It’s not a very big apartment, I’m sorry to say. But it’s in a good neighborhood. And, there’s parking for your Mustang.”

  Samantha guessed that her honorary aunt had picked up on her less than jovial mood. “The place is great, Kimberly. I can’t thank you enough for arranging this for me. And for the position with George’s firm. You’ve been a blessing to me.” She gave the woman a hug, pleased when it was returned full measure.

  “It’s the least we can do for Doreen’s daughter,” Kimberly said.

  Kimberly Patterson had been her mother’s best friend from third grade, all the way to high school graduation and into college. Doreen Johnson had been in her freshman year when she quit. She’d met and fallen in love with Kevin Kincaid. They eloped, and then, of course, he’d taken her home to Connecticut.

  The women had kept in touch despite the distance separating them. Her mother had traveled to Austin a couple of times to visit, and Kimberly had returned the favor. Two years before, she’d brought her husband George with her.

  Samantha smil
ed when she thought of how well her father and George had hit it off. Dad had even taken the visiting Texan golfing. Then they’d sat up half the night discussing their shared passion—the law.

  “Now, the furnishings aren’t new. Some came from our attic—George says a very hearty thank-you for that, by the way—and some came from a friend of mine. Loretta was happy to give you the bed, as she wanted to exchange that queen-sized one in her extra bedroom for bunk beds for her granddaughters.”

  “The furniture all looks really nice. It’s all much more, and much better, than I expected.” Samantha grinned. “And tell Uncle George he’s most welcome. I’ve been a witness to similar tussles between Mom and Dad over what should be kept and what should be tossed. I imagine his gratitude is likely on a par with what Dad’s would be.”

  Kimberly nodded. “Men just don’t understand the importance of hanging on to pieces of the past, the way we women do.”

  Samantha had become adept over the years at the art of remaining noncommittal, especially when it came to “tussles” between wives and their husbands.

  Kimberly had even gone to the trouble to stock a few basics in the kitchen. Samantha offered to put on some coffee, and it seemed to her as if the older woman was relieved to have an excuse to stay just a bit longer.

  “Your mother told me that your car broke down just outside of Waco last week, and that a family by the name of Kendall came to your aid.”

  Samantha plugged in the coffeemaker, and wondered just how much her mother had told her best friend. She said, “Yes, they did. They were all very kind to me. Mr. Jessop, a cousin who is the area mechanic, replaced the engine in my baby. He was true to his word, working diligently on the job until she was done. The week just flew past.” In fact, right at that moment, Samantha felt as if she needed to gasp for breath, it seemed to have sped by so quickly. The time had zoomed at the speed of light. She’d barely gotten a good taste of being loved by three men, and now she was here, more than a hundred miles away from them, and all alone.

  In the next heartbeat she gave herself a mental kick in the ass. She was a twentieth-century woman, quite capable of being alone. This was your plan from the beginning. You have no one to blame but yourself.

 

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