The Billionaire's Homecoming

by Christina Tetreault

  Taylor laughed. “Reese, Curt’s only teasing his brother.”

  “But he is older than me,” Curt added.

  Mystery solved. The girl belonged with Taylor. He’d have to ask Curt later why he hadn’t told him his new girlfriend had a daughter. “Wrong. I said I was on my way home. I never mentioned Virginia.”

  Other than Dad, Uncle Warren, and his friend Jen, no one knew his plans. He’d held off on sharing them with anyone else, even Mom, in case something unexpected happened. With everything on track, he saw no reason to keep quiet any longer.

  “Then you’re going to see Mom and Dad?” Curt asked.

  He hadn’t thought of his parents’ house as home in a long time. “No. I’m headed to North Salem,” Brett answered. “I bought a house there about a year ago.”

  “Really?” Jake asked.

  Brett thought he’d told his cousin, but evidently he hadn’t. “Yeah, your brother-in-law checks on it once a month or so for me.”

  He’d met Sean O’Brien, Jake’s brother-in-law, at his cousin’s house not long after Jake got married. They’d hit it off and become friends. When he’d decided to buy a place in North Salem where both Jake’s brother-in-law and mother-in-law lived, Sean had offered to check in on it and let him know if any problems developed. Thankfully, none ever had.

  “Sean never said anything to me,” Jake said before turning to his wife. “Did he tell you?”

  Charlie shook her head. “Nope. Where in town is it?” Charlie had grown up in North Salem and made regular trips back to visit her family whenever she could.

  “Union Street. Not far from the police station.” Since he’d known the house would be vacant for at least a year, he’d figured owning a home virtually across the street from a police station was a bonus.

  “My friend Jessie and her husband live on Union Street,” Charlie said, picking up the little boy now standing near her, solving the mystery of which toddler was Jake’s son.

  Brett hadn’t spent enough time at the house to meet any of his neighbors. In the time he’d owned it, he’d only stayed there a handful of nights, the most recent being when he’d come home for his cousin’s wedding in June.

  “How long are you staying up here this time?” Curt asked. “If you have time, come up and visit us. North Salem isn’t far from Pelham.”

  “Permanently.” He’d spent a fair amount of time preparing for this transition, but saying the word still felt strange.

  Jake laughed at him. “Nice one. You almost had me. You went a little too far though. Everyone here knows you didn’t retire from the Army. It’s stuck with you for life. What are you really doing up here this weekend?”

  Fair enough. Since the day he entered West Point, he’d never let on he intended to do more with his life than serve his country. And until the past two or so years, he hadn’t considered it himself. “I didn’t retire, but I’m no longer on active duty either. If I’m needed, they can call me up, but I don’t see it happening.”

  “You’re serious?” Curt asked, still sounding suspicious.

  Brett nodded. “Affirmative. I plan to run for Senator Marshall’s seat next year.”

  Few people knew the longtime United States Senator from Massachusetts didn’t intend to run for reelection when his term ended the following year. However, since Senator Marshall happened to be good friends with his uncles and dad, he’d learned of the man’s plan more than a year ago. “That’s why I bought the house in North Salem when I did.”

  “Dad mentioned Richard wasn’t going to run again,” Curt said. “Half expected him to suggest I move back to Massachusetts and run for it. Not that I ever would, but we both know that wouldn’t stop Dad from trying.”

  It was no secret Jonathan Sherbrooke still wanted his sons to follow the same path so many Sherbrooke males had been taking for years. For a long time, Dad had been content his younger son worked in the financial world at least. However, Curt’s recent decision to leave his position at Nichols Investment to be a full-time author baffled the man.

  “Let me see if I’ve got this. You’re moving to North Salem and running for Richard Marshall’s Senate seat next year?” Jake asked.

  His cousin still didn’t sound as if he believed anything Brett had told him. And Brett understood Jake’s lack of acceptance. In many ways they were a lot alike. Neither had followed the path their fathers had wanted them to, and neither had ever exhibited any interest in entering politics. Trent had always been the one they expected to follow that particular Sherbrooke tradition.

  “Did you take a blow to the head recently?” Curt asked before Brett answered Jake. “You detest politics.”

  His brother was wrong on that front. He didn’t hate politics. Rather, he disliked most of the politicians serving in Washington. Brett saw that as a big distinction.

  “I think it’s a great idea,” Callie said before Trent or another of his cousins who hadn’t chimed in yet could give him a hard time too. “Let me know if I can help.”

  “You’re serious,” Curt said.

  “I already have a list of potential campaign managers from Uncle Warren and Dad.”

  Trent and Dylan, Callie’s husband, exchanged a look. “If Marty Phillips is on the list, ignore him and keep looking,” Trent said.

  “Trent’s right,” Dylan added.

  He’d scanned the list quickly but didn’t recall if the man had been mentioned or not. But he trusted Trent’s and Dylan’s judgment. If his cousin and his friend thought he should avoid Marty Phillips, he would. There were plenty of names on the list anyway.

  “Anyone you recommend, Trent?” Brett asked.

  Prior to his marriage, Trent had planned to run for the US Senate himself. According to Curt, their cousin had even hired a campaign manager. Before any serious campaigning could get underway, Trent had changed his mind and soon after announced his engagement. However, it wasn’t a secret Trent still planned to enter politics someday.

  Trent reached down and grabbed the pink plastic pig his son had sent flying under his chair. “I’d go with anyone Uncle Warren suggested except Marty Phillips,” he answered, handing the toy back to Kendrick, who walked back to the farmhouse he was playing with.

  He’d look over the list, talk to Dad and maybe his uncles too, and do some research. It wasn’t like he had to make a decision this week or anything.

  ***

  Although he found spending time with his family enjoyable, he was anxious to get home. So when Callie invited him to spend the night, he turned down her offer. Pulling over for a second time since leaving her house, he wished he hadn’t. The rain had started the moment he crossed the Connecticut–Massachusetts border. At first it had been little more than a soft drizzle. It had quickly changed to a downpour as the winds picked up. A dazzling lightning storm soon followed. He’d been forced to pull over into the breakdown lane the first time visibility became nonexistent, outside of Grafton. He’d sat there for a solid ten minutes before the rain let up enough to see again.

  Brett switched on the car’s hazard lights, although considering the visibility out there, he didn’t think any approaching vehicles would even see them. Picking up his cell phone, he opened the weather app. He didn’t like what he saw. According to the screen, the storm was moving toward North Salem rather than away from it. He’d be dealing with it the rest of his trip home.

  He’d heard his cell phone beep while driving. Pulled over for the moment anyway, he checked the text message.

  Call me as soon as you get a chance. The message from Dad immediately sent up red flags.

  Dad never asked him to call, and they already had plans to meet this week. If Dad was requesting a call tonight, something must be wrong. He’d seen Nana less than two months ago at his cousin’s wedding. She’d looked as healthy and energetic as always despite her advanced years. Had something happened to her or Mom?

  Before calling, he checked his watch. It was close to one in the morning. If he called back now, he risked
waking his parents. Instead he hit reply and typed back a message. If Dad remained awake, he’d answer, and if not, he’d try again later in the morning. Brett held the phone and waited.

  The rain pounding the windshield gradually subsided, and Brett could once again see the road. Tossing the cell phone onto the passenger seat, he got back underway. No reply from Dad either meant the man was asleep or too busy. He’d have to wait to find out what was going on and hope everyone he cared about was okay.

  Chapter Two

  He flipped up the switch on the wall, but the bedroom light remained off. He’d expected as much this morning. It’d been out last night when he got here too. Considering all the downed trees and power lines he passed on his way through town, he assumed it’d be some time before he had power back. Perhaps having an empty refrigerator this morning wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

  Before leaving the bedroom, he grabbed his cell phone off the nightstand and checked for any new messages. He’d never heard back from Dad or received any message from anyone else before falling asleep.

  Nothing. Damn. Brett looked at his watch. He’d wait a little longer before he called Dad. Until then he’d check the property for any damage. Something big had been hit last night. It had woken him. When no large tree landed in his bedroom or any other part of the house, he dismissed it as something to look into when the sun came up.

  Brett entered the empty living room. Tomorrow the little furniture he did own would arrive, but at some point he’d need more. The condo he’d lived in for the past couple years was much smaller than this place. When his younger sister had visited during his last stay here, she’d offered to do all the furniture shopping and decorating for him. He hadn’t even considered Leah’s offer before turning it down. While he appreciated the gesture, he’d seen the museum she called a home. He didn’t need or want her turning this place into its duplicate, no matter how convenient it would be to let her handle it all.

  Opening the door, he stepped outside and swore. Something big had come down all right, and now it was lying across his driveway. Until he got rid of the tree, he wouldn’t be getting his car out of the garage.

  Be happy it didn’t land on your car, he reminded himself. With no power, he’d been forced to fight with the manual release on the garage door when he arrived. The evidence blocking his driveway proved the extra effort had been worth it despite the aggravation.

  He moved off the porch so he could get a better look at what he was dealing with. The front yard was covered with branches and leaves from the many trees in his yard and perhaps his neighbors’ yards too. However, he didn’t think the tree currently taking a nap in his driveway was actually one of his. He had a decent idea of where his property line was, and he had a feeling this tree belonged to his neighbor. Not that it made much of a difference if the tree belonged to him or not at the moment. It was still residing in his yard and complicating his life.

  Thanks to Mother Nature, it appeared as though he’d be meeting his neighbors sooner than he expected. Before he went over to talk to them about it, he’d check out the rest of his property and see if he had any other major problems to deal with this morning.

  Brett walked around the right side of the house and through the gate into the backyard. Several large limbs littered this part of the property, but with a chainsaw, all could be cut into smaller pieces. Later in the winter he could burn the wood in the fireplace. He passed by the in-ground pool. He’d considered having it opened earlier in the month so it’d be ready when he moved in. Considering the debris filling his yard, he was glad he’d never gotten around to finding a pool company to do it. With the summer more than half over anyway, he might not even bother now.

  Pleased the property hadn’t suffered any significant damage, he exited the backyard through the gate by the garage and found a man around his age standing in the driveway and examining the downed tree. When the stranger glanced up, he waved at Brett.

  “Morning. I would’ve knocked if I’d known someone was here,” the man said as Brett approached. “Mack Ellsbury, I live next door.” The man pointed to the house on the left. “You must be Sean’s friend.”

  Brett stopped and extended his hand. “Brett Sherbrooke. I arrived early this morning.”

  “Doesn’t look like this tree caused any damage. I’ll work on getting it out of your way. My wife wanted to get rid of it last fall so she could plant a flower garden. Looks like she got her wish.”

  “I’ll give you a hand,” Brett answered. If they worked together, the tree would be off his property sooner.

  “Appreciate the help. How ’bout a cup of coffee before we get started?”

  “You’ve got power?”

  Mack shook his head. “No, a generator. I had it installed last year. We tend to lose power often in the winter.”

  Perhaps having a generator installed before the winter months arrived belonged on his to-do list. “Coffee sounds good. I’ve got a quick phone call to make, and I’ll be right over.”

  Brett waited for his neighbor to leave before calling his dad. The phone rang several times before Jonathan Sherbrooke answered.

  “What’s wrong? Are Mom and Nana okay?” Brett asked before his dad managed to say anything more than a hello. “Did something happen to Leah?”

  “Everyone is fine. Nothing is wrong,” Dad assured him.

  Considering the message Dad sent him, he hadn’t expected him to sound so calm this morning. “Your text insinuated otherwise.”

  “I should’ve been clearer. I apologize,” Dad said. “Have you been following the news at all?”

  “Not really. I’ve been too busy with my move back here. Why? What happened?”

  “Neil Brown passed away last week.”

  He knew of the longtime senator. Probably everyone in the country had heard of him. Neil Brown was the longest-serving senator in United States history. Brett also knew the man’s health had been declining over the past year. However, he’d never met the man.

  “You realize what it means, don’t you?” Dad asked.

  Yeah, Massachusetts was now short one senator in Washington.

  “The state is going to have to hold a special election to fill his seat. He had another three years in office. The governor announced the dates for the election yesterday. The primary will be held November 7 and the election will be six weeks later,” Dad said before Brett commented. “I discussed it with your uncles yesterday. Rather than wait and run for Richard’s seat next year, we all agree you should try for Brown’s now.”

  Brett processed Dad’s statement. He had a well-thought-out strategy, and he’d already executed the first half of it. Entering the special election and running for Brown’s Senate seat would mean tossing the rest of it out the window and starting over.

  “You’re a Massachusetts resident again and living in the state. There’s no reason to wait until next year.”

  Dad was right on both accounts. He’d changed his residency status when he’d been up for Gray’s wedding. While some may not agree with it, Massachusetts didn’t require a candidate to have lived in the state for a specific amount of time before running for a seat in the United States Senate. It only required an individual be an inhabitant of the state when elected. According to his driver’s license and voter registration, he was a resident again and had been since June.

  “I need to think about it,” Brett answered.

  “What is there to think about? You’ve been positioning yourself for this for over a year. Getting you on the ballot for the primary should be a piece of cake. When we meet this week, we can discuss the particulars and get the ball rolling.”

  Dad had been disappointed in Brett when he failed to follow the path of most Sherbrooke males. He’d never said that, but it had been very clear. When Brett told him his plan to leave active duty and enter politics, the man had all but done a victory dance. This morning Brett wasn’t surprised by Dad’s insistence he change his timetable and jump into politics sooner
rather than later.

  “Give me twenty-four hours to think it over. I’ll let you know.” Regardless of what a good idea Dad and his uncles thought it was, he wasn’t going to jump headfirst into a decision without examining it from every position.

  Brett finished the call and crossed the yard. As he rang his neighbors’ doorbell, visions of hot coffee filled his thoughts.

  The sound of a barking dog responded moments before Mack opened the door. “Don’t worry. Socks is friendly.” Mack pointed to the dog near his feet. “C’mon in.”

  Brett followed his neighbor and the dog through the living room where an enormous dollhouse stood near the fireplace, indicating Mack had at least one child.

  “Brett, this is my wife, Jessie,” Mack said when they entered the kitchen.

  The woman at the stove looked ready to give birth right then and there.

  “And my daughter, Grace.” Mack ruffled the girl’s hair before grabbing a mug from a cabinet.

  Brett recalled his conversation with his cousin’s wife yesterday. Charlie had mentioned that her friend Jessie and her husband lived on Union Street. “You’re not by any chance friends with Charlie Sherbrooke?”

  Jessie flipped a pancake on the stove and then looked over at him. “Charlie was my maid of honor.” She flipped another pancake before she spoke again. “Sean told us a friend of his bought the house next door. When Mack told me your name this morning, I assumed you must be one of Jake’s cousins.”

  “Guilty. But try not to hold it against me,” Brett said, accepting the coffee Mack held out.

  Jessie laughed and rubbed her lower back. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to admit I was related to him either,” she said good-naturedly.

  “Jake danced with me at Jessie and Dad’s wedding,” Grace said, joining in the conversation.

  For some reason the comment didn’t surprise him.

  “More than once,” Jessie added. She refilled Grace’s milk and went back to the stove. “The pancakes are almost done if you’re hungry, Brett. There is more than enough here.”