Adam had the look of an older brother. His brown hair, cut short, framed a face sometimes too serious for his thirty-two years. Oh, he was handsome! His chocolate brown eyes, when he focused them on her, seemed to go soft, as if he reveled in simply looking at her. His chiseled cheekbones and softly tapered chin, along with just the hint of an afternoon shadow, put her in mind of a pirate. His physique, well-toned but not overly muscular, attested that he wasn’t an idle man. Of the two men, she thought Adam sometimes had the most trouble speaking about things not related to medicine. He could be literal, but she didn’t hold that awkwardness against him.
James, with his blond hair and brown eyes, presented a contrast to Adam. She’d come to the conclusion that he could be silly, if it put a smile on her face or got Adam out of a thinking slump. His lips had a slight bit of puffiness to them, as if he spent a lot of time kissing. Her body overheated just thinking of James and kissing. His face was movie-star perfection. He was completely gorgeous but didn’t seem to realize that.
His gaze promised fun and a well of tenderness. Both men drew her in, and she could imagine, oh so easily, being cocooned between them, their heat hers, their scent intoxicating her. She couldn’t help it. She was alone. She sighed and let those images sink in.
“Okay, Pammy-pooh”—she used her father’s nickname from when she’d been little—“time to come back to reality. Make supper for your brothers and dad, shower, get dressed, and await the arrival of Adam and James.”
They were having supper in the city together and then attending a performance of the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra. Every other weekend, they’d go somewhere and do something together. She didn’t care where they went or what they did, as long as she was with them both. Time will come soon enough when they’ll be on their way home to Texas.
As she put her turn signal on and began to drive down the long laneway that led to the house, she shut away thoughts of that time soon to come. Instead, Pam set her mind to organizing the supper she’d make for her dad and brothers. A quick glance at her watch told her they’d be coming inside in about an hour. She caught sight of Byron, working amongst their small herd, and waved. A quickly raised hand let her know he knew she was home.
Her dad and her other brother, Joey, might be inside the long milking shed. Their equipment demanded constant attention. She worried, sometimes, about the future. Her dad wasn’t very open with regard to his finances. She knew that he’d taken on a larger mortgage in the aftermath of her mother’s lost battle with cancer. There’d been no insurance, and the medical bills had needed to be paid immediately.
Reginald Franklin never complained about money or its lack. He took on the deeper debt and continued to work hard. He’d made a fuss when Pam had given up her apartment in the city and come back home. He told her she should be out grabbing her own dreams, planning her own future. She’d just hugged him and told him the truth. Family was everything, and she was happy to do what she could to help, period.
He tried to refuse rent from her, but she told him, even with what she offered to pay him, she was saving a fortune and banking that for her future, and she was grateful for the opportunity to do so.
The last few weeks, her father had seemed a little more withdrawn than usual. It was the way he got when he was wrestling with a problem and was mentally working out the solution. She’d been tempted a few times to ask him about it. But she understood her father’s pride might already have been prickled some accepting rent money from her, so she just let it go.
Most likely there was a situation with the herd or the equipment or such. He was pretty good at figuring things out, and when he couldn’t buy new, he was very good at jury-rigging something. She did her part to help. She cooked breakfast and supper and set sandwiches out in the fridge and sometimes soup in the slow cooker. That slow cooker was one of the best inventions, ever.
Cold soup taken from the fridge in the morning and set into that little marvel was piping hot for lunch time. Tonight’s supper would be roasted chicken and vegetables. She’d set everything in the roast pan that morning and only had to put that pan in the oven.
Pam pulled her Ford Mustang into the parking area at the side of the house. The clock was ticking. She’d get the supper on and then head for her room.
Pam entered the kitchen, a bounce in her step, and pulled up short. Her father stood in the doorframe between kitchen and hallway. The look on his face reminded her of that awful day, eight months ago, when he’d told her about her mother’s illness.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Everything. I’m an old, stupid man, sweetheart. A damn fool!”
“Daddy?”
Her father, looking years older than his forty-nine, scrubbed his face with both hands. “Come into the office, Pammy. I’ve made a mess of things, and I need to tell you all about it. You need to make some plans for yourself. Come the summer, this farm won’t be ours any longer.”
As she settled into the chair across from her dad, with that old, scarred oak library desk separating them, Pamela thought back to when her father had built this little space where he could take care of farm business. They’d all had a hand in the building of it, this small, not much bigger than a closet space that had once been an odd alcove to the living room. Her mother had said she was grateful, because now she had a normal, rectangular living room. Buying the next carpet would be easier, thanks to Dad’s new office.
It’s hard to remember what the living room looked like before. Pam inhaled deeply, grabbing calm. Her father’s hands were resting over top of what looked like a magazine, and his hands were trembling, just slightly.
“What happened, dad?”
“I just wanted to make things better. I didn’t want you to spend the rest of your life here, when you should be out there, searching for your happiness.” He shook his head. “This isn’t on you, Pamela. It’s on me.” He sighed and sat back in his chair. “I knew you’d never leave here, not as long as we’re struggling to pull the business out of debt.” He fell silent for a moment. She knew he meant the debt that they’d had to take on when her mother was sick. Only three months from diagnosis to her passing, and the debt had been massive.
“We’ve been through this, Dad. We’re family. Of course, I’m going to help.”
“And miss your chance at happiness? Maybe…maybe this mess I made is for the best, after all.” He sighed again. “Now you can do what I know, deep down in your heart, you want to do. I’ve been paying attention, sweetheart. I know you’re in love with one of those Texan doctors, though I have to say I’m not sure which one. I know they’re leaving in a few weeks to head back home.”
Pam felt her face color. She hadn’t realized how much she’d spoken about Adam and James Jessop or that her heartbreak, knowing they were leaving soon, had shown.
Her attention was drawn to her father’s trembling hands that lay across that glossy magazine.
“What’s that?”
He snorted. “I thought it was the answer to my prayers. Instead, it was just a con, apparently. One that was played on me—or that I fell into. Fell, hell, I practically jumped! Damn it!”
The words tumbled out of him, then, how he’d seen an ad in the paper about an investment opportunity with guaranteed fantastic returns. How he hadn’t believed it at first but went to a meeting, regardless, and listened. How he read the prospectus and then called some of the people who’d given testimonials in the literature he’d received.
“Each person I spoke to raved about these guys, about the money they’d made for them. So I…aw, hell, Pammy, I gave them everything I had, as well as clearing out the line of credit at the bank.”
Fury and terror and shock ripped through her. That had to be nearly a hundred thousand dollars—money set aside to make the balloon payment due at the end of July! She’d known he was close to having it all there—and now it was all gone?
“I feel so stupid. When the check I was expecting didn’t come, I called t
he number I’d used to get in touch with them, but the number had been disconnected. The same with those so-called satisfied customers. All their phones had been disconnected, too.”
“What were you thinking? Did you check these guys out with Uncle Ted, first?” Ted Mahony was the Franklin’s long-time lawyer.
“No. I figured he would just try to talk me out of it. It just…they seemed so genuine. And I thought, at the time, that this was my chance. My one chance to set things right and get back to where we’d been before…”
Before Elizabeth Franklin had died. Her father was still so grief-stricken he rarely said those words. “You’ve got to go see Peter.” Peter Gilcrest was a captain with the Baltimore County police and one of her dad’s oldest friends.
“I did. I swore out a complaint at the precinct against that so-called company, the Genesis Fund, and the men I’d met with, John Adams and Tom Jefferson. Peter took copies of everything here. He figures these guys were real pros, and those weren’t even their real names. There were at least three other people as stupid as I am who fell for the same scam in the county. They’ve also sworn out complaints against them in the last few weeks.
“The long and the short of it is, they were con men, and now, they’re long gone. And so is my money. It’s on the record, so if they ever get caught…” He shook his head. “Who knows if I’ll ever see anything back, even if they do get caught. Likely all I’ll be able to do is testify in court against them, and I don’t care how stupid I’ll look to the world at large, I will.”
When he looked up at her, his eyes teared. “I screwed up, Pammy-pooh. There’s no making up for this, I know. I…I’m so sorry.”
Calm down. Yelling won’t solve a thing. That she wanted to yell shocked her. This was her father, and yes, he’d done something stupid, but she doubted she could kick him as hard as he was already kicking himself.
“Let’s just let this settle, for now. I’ll go make supper, and then I’m going out. Adam and James are coming…” She didn’t know if she could get through the evening, but she couldn’t stay here. She needed to get her emotions under control. She needed to…do something.
Pamela refused to believe that all was lost. That wasn’t in her, to think that way. Maybe Adam and James would have an idea of what she could do to help her dad.
Her father nodded. “I don’t blame you for wanting to get away for a bit. I’ll be telling your brothers tomorrow. But I needed you to know first. I’m so damn sorry, honey.”
“I know, Dad. Like I said, let it sit. Don’t tell the boys just yet. Maybe there’s something we can do.”
* * * *
“We’re almost out of time,” James said. “Adam, we’re scheduled to fly back home on April fourth!”
“I know it.” Adam had memorized the route to the Franklin farm, even though they’d only been there once. Still, he kept his eyes on the road. He barely flicked a look at his brother as he spoke. “I’ve never felt so frustrated—with myself and with the circumstances. We both know Pamela is the woman we’ve been looking for. Damn it, James, in my heart, she’s our wife already.” He barked out a short laugh. “Hell, we haven’t even kissed her yet, and still that’s how I feel.”
“I feel the same way. It has to be tonight, brother. We have to tell her how we feel about her tonight.”
Pamela. Beautiful inside and out. Her soft brown hair with auburn flashes was cut in a sweet style that cupped her face. Her hazel eyes could be brown or green, depending on her mood. She loved life, and when she focused on him, he felt like the king of the world. Her lips looked moist and sweet, and all he wanted to do was sink into them.
James was right. They did have to tell her how they felt about her tonight, but… “Every time I think about doing just that, an awful terror seizes me. What if the idea of being married to the both of us scares her away? Hell, we have no one to blame but ourselves. We should have started that conversation with her weeks ago.”
“Yes, we should have, but neither of us thought the time was right. She was grieving her mother when we met. No, I think the closer truth is that neither of us could find our balls.”
James’s comment pulled another laugh from Adam.
“I think that last sentence is the God’s own truth. Not exactly a glowing endorsement of either of our intellects, considering we’re both of us, doctors. I guess we’d better find ’em, and fast.”
“Adam? I really don’t think taking on the two of us will scare her off. I really feel as if she’s drawn to us both. I believe she’s already more than half in love with us. It’s right there in her eyes. Do you remember when we toured that street festival a month or so back?”
“I’ll never forget how wonderful it felt with her between us, each of us holding one of her hands.”
“What I’ll never forget is the way her breath hitched—and her nipples hardened. And then, her sigh of pleasure. She was very aroused in that moment and very happy to hold both our hands.”
That was something James hadn’t told him, and he hadn’t noticed it at the time, damn it. “Well then.” Adam slowed the Riviera they’d bought when they’d come to Maryland two years before and put on the right turn signal. He slowed to turn, and then kept the car’s speed down as he negotiated the farm’s long, tree-lined laneway.
“I think I’m going to miss the trees here,” James said. He gazed up at the leafy canopy. “Although it will be good to be back in Texas.”
“It will be good to be back in Texas,” Adam agreed. “As long as we have Pamela with us.”
“You’re planning on asking her to come with us? In less than two weeks? Wow, you found your balls, and apparently, they’re bigger than ever!”
Adam chuckled. “I think we’ve waited long enough. If you’re right and she’s as drawn to us as we are to her, why wait, and why play games?”
“I can hear mother’s colorful descriptions of our characters now.”
Adam stopped the car and put it in park. He and his brother looked at each other and burst out laughing. That last little bit had been officious, even for him. And yes, he could hear their mother, as well. Maria Sanchez Jessop was never coy about voicing her opinion, usually in her very own part-Spanish, part-English way. Her sons knew the more Spanish she used, the more upset she was.
The sound of a door closing jerked their attention to the porch. They both immediately opened their car doors and got out.
Pamela practically ran down the steps.
“Sweetheart? Is everything all right?” James reached her first.
“We’d planned to come to the door,” Adam said.
“No, nothing’s all right. Can we just leave, please?”
Adam met his brother’s gaze over Pamela’s head. “Yes, of course,” Adam said.
“Come, sweetheart. Get in this side.” James led her to the passenger side, and when she got in, he waited for her to scoot over to the middle and then got in himself.
Something was very definitely wrong. Adam slid behind the wheel and waited until James buckled her seatbelt.
“We can carry on with our plans,” Adam said. “Dinner in downtown Baltimore and the symphony. Or we can find a quiet restaurant closer than the city, and you can tell us what’s wrong.”
“That, please.”
“All right. How about the diner in Catonsville? The food’s good, and the supper rush should be over by now.”
“Sounds perfect. Well, almost perfect.”
“What would make it perfect?” James asked.
“If you’d hold my hands.”
Adam turned to meet her gaze. “Sweetheart, we’d do damn near anything for you.” He took her hand and felt her shaking.
“We would,” James said. He took her right hand. “And I think a quiet dinner and some honest conversation is exactly what we—all three of us—need.”
Adam had no way of knowing what had happened to upset their woman. But he was damn sure that he, and James, would move heaven and hell to make things righ
t for her.
Chapter Two
“And that’s how my last couple of hours went.” Pamela looked from Adam to James. They’d sat quietly while she’d told them every detail of the story her father had so recently related her. “You both seem to be so knowledgeable about so many things. It occurred to me that you might know of something we could do?” She shook her head. “Sorry, that I could do to help my father. Daddy is devastated, and he’s all but surrendered to the inevitable. That’s not like him at all.” Pamela knew she couldn’t hide her worry about her father, so she didn’t even try.
“Sweetheart, some things are difficult for a man.” Adam covered her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “For a man like your father, who’s earned his own way with his own two hands and hard work all his life, who not only feels a responsibility toward his children even if they are fully grown, but to those who came before him, this mistake in judgment he made would be hard for him to bear. And really, this sort of thing could happen to any of us.”
“You only met him once, but you seem to understand him. I noticed that at the time, that the two of you hit it off.” She sat back as the waitress brought their coffee and slices of apple pie. They’d eaten their meals and spoken of inconsequential things. This was supposed to be a date, and while the course of the evening had already been altered, the men had suggested, and she’d agreed, to wait until their main course had been eaten before turning to more serious business.
First supper, and then substance.
Just being with Adam and James had her feeling better and steadier. Sharing her burden with them had seemed such a natural thing for her to do. “I don’t expect you to fix this for me—you know that, right? But just sharing my worry with you has helped. And of course, any plan of action you could suggest, anything that you could think of that I could do to help Dad, I’d be grateful for that.”
One Thanksgiving in Lusty, Texas Page 2