The Lewis Legacy Series Box Set: 4-in-1 Special Edition

by JoAnn Durgin

  “You know I love spending as much time with your little treasure as I can,” Chloe’s nanny said, closing the front door behind her. Dottie’s children and three grandbabies lived in Alabama, so she didn’t see them as often as she’d like. It was inevitable and only a matter of time before the desire to live closer to her family would lure her away. In the meantime, Winnie would enjoy the blessing since Dottie was the closest thing to a grandmother Chloe had ever known. Opening her purse, Dottie pulled out a book and put it on a chair. “We checked out a new book from the library. I’m sure Chloe will read you the words she learned today. I think she added about ten new ones.”

  “Yup.” Chloe sat up and tugged off her lightweight sweater with her help. She apparently needed to teach her daughter the proper way to say yes but it was cute and endearing. Listening as Chloe rattled off a stream of words, Winnie raised a brow when she stopped. “Mommy, do you know what a grant is?”

  Winnie turned her head, coughing to gain a few precious seconds. Of all the words in the English language, it had to be that one? If the Almighty was trying to get her attention, it was working. “Is that a word in your book, sweetie?” Aware Dottie eyed her, she avoided looking her way. Recovering her composure as best she could, Winnie watched as Chloe ran and picked up the book, bringing it to her.

  “It’s a word at the front. See?” Opening the book and finding the page, Chloe showed it to her.

  “It’s written by an author who received a grant from a scholastic foundation.” Dottie’s smile was doting. “You know your daughter. She reads books from cover to cover. Like a little sponge she is, soaking it all up. I tried my best to explain what ‘grant’ means, but it’s a challenge, that one.”

  Winnie searched her mind. “A grant means you give someone something. Kind of like a gift.” No kidding. The irony of it smacked her in the face. Probably not the best explanation, but it would have to do. Pulling herself up from the sofa, she retrieved Chloe’s sweater and went through the motions of hanging it in the small coat closet—anything to keep her hands occupied. Her daughter had no idea she embodied the meaning of her new word.

  Dottie headed to the door. “Well, I need to be getting home now. I’ll see you ladies tomorrow. What time should I pick her up?”

  Winnie forced herself to focus, doing a mental rundown of the next day’s schedule. “Lexa and I have to be at the hotel to set up at three, so how about two-fifteen? That should give me enough time to get everything together, meet Lexa and make it to the hotel in time.”

  Dottie paused with one hand on the doorknob. “You’ll be at Lexa’s all day, right?”

  She nodded. “Yes. I was planning on leaving around one to get Chloe at daycare, and then bring her back here until you can pick her up.”

  “Then I’ll just pick her up at the daycare. They already know me, and I don’t have any other plans tomorrow. I’ll be happy to do it if it’ll make it easier for you.”

  Relief flooded Winnie’s entire being. Lord, thank you for this angel of mercy. “That would be great. Have I told you yet today how much of a lifesaver you are?”

  “I like Lifesavers!” Chloe said, grinning.

  Winnie frowned. “The problem is, I’m not sure how long the event will last tomorrow night, and—”

  The sweet woman waved her hand. “Don’t you worry about a thing. We’ll plan a sleepover tomorrow night, and have ourselves a grand time. If you think of it, just send along an extra bag with a toothbrush and pajamas to the daycare with her. Two o’clock okay?”

  Winnie’s eyes misted. “Yes, that’ll be fine. I’ll make sure they know. Thanks so much.” She’d miss Chloe something fierce, but knowing Dottie loved her daughter like one of her own was a comfort beyond measure. It seemed a large percentage of her life the past few years revolved around details of transportation and childcare, but she wouldn’t trade it for the world. Not a complaint, Lord.

  “Bye, love!” Dottie called to Chloe, who was sprawled on the living room floor, playing with Butterfinger. Good thing she was in some of her oldest playclothes since they bore the evidence of Chloe’s love of all things tomato. Out of necessity, she’d become quite the laundry expert.

  “Bye, Dottie!” When Chloe graced the older woman with one of her sweet smiles, it made Winnie’s breath catch. With each passing day, she resembled her father a little more. While she inherited the same honey color of her hair and shape of her nose, that engaging smile was all his. Another sharp stab of conscience ripped through her. One day soon, her daughter would start asking questions about her father, and she needed to have answers suitable for a quick-witted, intelligent child. Chloe deserved nothing less. She held a cat toy, dangling it in front of the kitten. Her eyes widened in delight when Butterfinger pawed the air.

  Time for their evening tradition of hot chocolate. No matter the season, hot chocolate with a small mountain of whipped cream was Chloe’s favorite. Going through the open doorway into the kitchen, Winnie filled a pan with water and turned on the burner. As she pulled out the cocoa, mugs and spoons, she pondered how well the catering business worked into their lives. If there wasn’t a catering event the same day, she’d often take Chloe along with her to Sam and Lexa’s while they cooked or sampled new dishes, balanced the books, discussed recipes or planned upcoming menus.

  Chloe adored helping with Lexa’s baby, Joseph. At first she complained all the newborn did was sleep, eat and all manner of disgusting things. Now, at three months old, Joe could roll over and babble with the best of them. Chloe loved calling him Joey since she’d discovered it rhymed with her own name. Winnie observed with a close eye whenever her daughter ate her lunch with Joe in close proximity. She couldn’t wait until he was ready for solid foods so she could feed him like her baby doll. The ketchup bottle had already been confiscated more times than she could count amidst Chloe’s protests of it being a soft food. No sense in inviting trouble, especially since Joe was already waving his arms and attempting the old reach-and-grab technique. She sensed a lecture on safe versus non-safe foods to feed an infant looming in the near future.

  With Joe watching from his playpen, Chloe would dance and make funny faces, eliciting hearty belly laughs from the child. The first time they heard it, Lexa and Winnie looked at each other across the butcher block island—over a tray of stuffed mushrooms and pinwheels—and hurried into the family room. Lexa lifted Joe from the playpen and danced around the room with her handsome son, peppering his chubby cheeks with kisses. Watching her, Winnie remembered the same milestones with Chloe, and how thankful she was for every single one.

  Hauling a rocking chair over beside Joe’s crib in his upstairs bedroom, Chloe tried to sound out words of a Bible storybook. Joseph and the coat of many colors was her favorite. When Winnie once asked which story she was reading, Chloe gave her a Mommy-you-should-know look. How many times would she see that same look in the future? Hearing Chloe’s voice on the intercom always made her smile as she worked with Lexa in the kitchen. Mid-afternoon, she’d often discover Chloe fast asleep, curled in the rocking chair with her head resting on the arm, the storybook open on her lap.

  “Mommy, can Butterfinger sleep in my bed tonight?” Lost in thought, Winnie jumped as Chloe padded into the kitchen in her bare feet. She stroked the kitten, raking her small fingers through the creature’s soft fur. Gorgeous green eyes flecked with amber—the most striking feature Chloe inherited from her father—stared Winnie down with a steely determination belying that innocent smile. Again, so like her dad.

  Pouring the steaming water into mugs—a ceramic TeamWork one for her and an insulated plastic Cinderella one for Chloe—Winnie swirled the hot chocolate before adding a generous dollop of whipped cream in both. “Sit down, and let’s talk about it.” Why did I let this child talk me into getting a kitten? She motioned to a chair and watched as Chloe lowered the kitten into the bed in the corner, handling her like the most precious treasure. That’s why. Watching over Joe and caring for Butterfinger brought out
nurturing qualities she wouldn’t think possible in one so young. Scurrying to the table, Chloe plopped into the chair. Heaving a big breath, she blew on the hot chocolate and giggled when whipped cream landed on the table between them.

  “I’ll let the kitten sleep in your bed on one condition, young lady.” Grabbing a napkin, Winnie blotted the melted whipped cream.

  Chloe leaned her head to one side. “What’s a dition?” Ah yes, another new word. Single parenting a bright child could sometimes be exhausting.

  Winnie’s smile came from the deepest part of her heart. “Condition, and it means yes, Butterfinger can sleep on your bed tonight as long as you understand you’re expected to make your bed tomorrow morning after breakfast.”

  “’Kay. Like a promise.” A wet chocolate mustache outlined Chloe’s upper lip. Reaching with her tongue, she licked it off and grinned.

  “Yes, I suppose it is like a promise.” That was easier than I thought. Sipping their hot chocolate, giggling together, she thanked the Lord for the privilege. How she loved being a mom. For that reason alone, she’d always love Josh Grant. He’d given her the absolute best gift of her life. The gift of motherhood.

  Chapter 4

  Monday Night

  For more than four years, Rebekah prayed her twin would make amends with Sam. So much personal history, so many hurts needing to be healed. When Josh called a few weeks ago and asked for Sam’s contact information, she’d given him everything he’d possibly ever need short of Sam’s social security number and thumbprint. It was her brother’s latest request that had her puzzled. After listening to his message, she stared at her phone. Why is Josh asking for Winnie Doyle’s phone number?

  Sliding the ponytail holder from her hair, Rebekah glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was probably too late to call. Still, the overpowering need to know won out. Josh had awakened her enough times. Payback time. Pressing the speed dial, she pulled back the light coverlet and sheets.

  He picked up on the third ring. “Hey, wombmate. How’s life in the world of Rebekah?”

  “You tell me. Josh, why are you asking for Winnie’s phone number?”

  “That’s one thing I’ve always loved about you. At least with me, you get right to the heart of the matter. You won’t let me get away with anything. Tell me, how are the two men in your life?”

  Rebekah ignored his barb. “You need a watchdog, and good thing for you, I’m it. And don’t pull that ‘I’m older than you’ line on me.” For some unknown reason, her brother loved reminding her of his arrival in the world a full eight minutes ahead of her. Holding the phone cradled between her ear and shoulder, she retrieved her favorite, well-worn, purple LSU T-shirt and sleep pants from the dresser drawer. Catching a whiff of her favorite detergent, she smiled.

  “Stop multi-tasking and concentrate so I don’t have to repeat everything three times.” Josh chuckled under his breath. “And what’s with the heavy breathing? Which one inspired that, Adam or Kevin?”

  He knows me too well. Scary. She was thankful he couldn’t see her smile. “I hope you realize no one else has the unique privilege of insulting me on a regular basis. You should feel special.”

  “Right back at ya, sis. Are you sitting down yet?”

  She snorted. “Just answer the question.” She wasn’t sitting down, but he had her undivided attention. Something’s up. Wait it out and let him tell you. Don’t push.

  “First of all, that message is old. Check the date. It was three days ago.”

  She frowned. “So, I’m a little behind on messages. It still doesn’t negate my question.”

  “Here’s the thing.” He hesitated, something he rarely did. “Winnie and I. . .well, we shared a special memory in San Antonio. Leave it at that. I’m asking you to trust me on this.”

  “Oooh—kay.” She checked her clock and set the alarm. “It’s been a long time since you’ve seen or talked with Winnie, so you can’t fault me for curiosity.”

  “I saw Sam and Lexa today.”

  In the middle of choosing a bottle of nail polish, Rebekah paused. Her eyes welled with tears. “Well, it’s about time.” Huge answer to prayer, that one. So, he’s finally come around.

  “That’s the same thing he said before he crushed me. The man is deceptively strong.”

  “Where was this?”

  “Space City, Clutch City, H-Town, Magnolia City.” Josh paused. “Need I go on?”

  “You’re in Houston. Cut to the chase, please. You need your beauty rest. Tell me what happened.” She pulled out her Bible and the novel she’d been reading, putting them on the bed. Maybe it was the teacher in her, but it was difficult to sit and talk without doing several things at once. She’d always been that way.

  “We’re fine. You know Sam. Within two minutes, it was like we saw each other yesterday. I think the man would forgive Hitler if he showed repentance, humbled himself and asked forgiveness.”

  “That’s extreme, even for you. Does this mean you’re coming back to TeamWork?” Her voice caught and she dropped onto the bed.

  “In some capacity, I’d love to someday, yes. Not sure how, when or where.”

  She stared at the pattern in her sleep pants, drawing imaginary circles with one finger. “Josh, that’s such an answer to prayer, I can’t even tell you.”

  “That’s the same thing Lexa said. It’s gratifying to know I’ve had so many praying for me the last few years.” The emotion in his voice was almost palpable.

  “Now I have a new direction in my prayers for you. I’m sure Sam is already formulating ideas. So, spill it about Winnie. Have you talked with her yet?”

  “I’m actually staying with Sam and Lexa, and she’s coming over to the house in the morning. I tried to call her today but we never connected. I might try one more time tonight but it’s getting late.”

  She could tell he turned away from the phone, probably to check the time. Her brother was the most focused person she knew. “Well, I hope it goes well for you, and that you two share another special memory.” Whatever that meant. Rebekah surrendered to her yawn.

  “Your turn. Don’t play coy. What’s up with the bayou love triangle?”

  Rebekah rolled her eyes and slumped back against the pillows. “It’s not a love triangle.”

  “Only because the two guys don’t know about each other. . .yet.” That last word was well-placed. Josh warned her something might happen to force a confrontation one of these days.

  “I’ve made no commitments to either of them, and you know it. I’m going to the school picnic with Kevin tomorrow afternoon and Adam’s taking me to lunch on Saturday, if you must know.”

  “How difficult it must be to be you, Beck.”

  “Looked in a mirror lately?”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Talk to Kevin.”

  “Therein lies the problem. If I tell Kevin I’m seeing Adam, he’ll back off. It’s taken him years to get to this point.” She twirled a long strand of hair around one finger. “I don’t want to risk losing him. He’s too important in my life.”

  “Answer this question, then: is the Brit too important in your life?”

  “Of course, he is. He has a name, Josh.”

  “I know. I just like calling him the Brit.” Amusement danced around the edges of his voice.

  “Must you always be my conscience?”

  “Someone’s got to do it. And that’s my cue. Love ya.”

  “You, too. Give Sam and Lexa my love, and give that sweet baby of theirs a kiss. I hope I meet him before he turns a year old. I’ll be thinking of you in the morning, that you’ll get your chance to meet with Winnie. And praying, always praying.”

  “Will do on all counts, and thanks. In the meantime, at least think about talking to Kevin, okay?” She smiled as he signed off, always thinking he had the last word. Little did he suspect she planned it that way.

  ~~**~~

  After tucking Chloe in bed, Winnie pulled out her phone and glanced at the rundown
of phone numbers from the day. Eight times was the current tally. Hanging up on him obviously hadn’t deterred his mission. The man she knew was nothing if not single-minded and determined. She suspected he wouldn’t give up until he talked with her, at the very least. Leaving the phone on the nightstand, she headed into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

  More tired than she realized, she released a long sigh of contentment as she slid under the sheets a few minutes later. Rolling over on her side, she hugged her extra pillow and yawned. Her eyes fell on her Bible on the nightstand. She’d been too tired to work on her Sunday school lesson, but figured the Lord would forgive her one missed day. Her eyes strayed to the phone. “If you really want to talk to me, I’m here now. Ring already.” She startled and cried out when it buzzed within the minute, as if on command. Clamping a hand over her mouth, not wanting to wake Chloe, she grabbed the phone.

  Same number. “Hello?” She kept her voice quiet.

  “Winnie Doyle, is that you?” This time he didn’t give her the opportunity to hang up on him. That deep, rich voice resonated in her ears, making her dizzy. She’d always loved it—completely masculine yet capable of being incredibly gentle and tender.

  She nodded, but of course, he couldn’t see her. “Yes.”

  “This is Josh. Joshua Grant.” He paused. As if she wouldn’t know.

  The blood rushed to her cheeks and she brought a quick hand to her chest. Please, Lord, don’t let me faint. How pathetic was she that hearing his name gave her heart palpitations? She fumbled for her Bible and pulled out last week’s church bulletin, using it to fan her flaming cheeks. “Josh,” she breathed. What does he want? Why now? Where is he? Perhaps more telling, why did she go all soft—like some kind of silly, besotted schoolgirl—at the mere sound of his voice?