Twins For The Soldier (Wickham Falls Weddings Book 4; American Heroes #22

by Rochelle Alers

  Lee parked near two carriage houses turned guesthouses that also needed fresh coats of white paint. Repairs weren’t at the top of his to-do list, though sitting down with his sister—to ascertain how much money she needed to hold on to the property—was.

  Getting out of the car and walking around to the front of the three-story dwelling, Lee rang the doorbell. The keys to the house were in his backpack. He didn’t have to wait long for the door to open. The smile parting his lips faded quickly when he saw firsthand the effects of the strain of his sister’s current ordeal. There were dark circles under large toffee-colored eyes, and her tawny face was a lot slimmer, almost emaciated, surrounded by a cloud of black curls falling to narrow shoulders.

  He extended his arms and wasn’t disappointed when she came into his embrace. Lee rested his chin on the top of her head as she cried without making a sound; he massaged her back in a comforting gesture and waited for her to compose herself.

  “You came.” Viviana sniffled against his chest.

  Lee smiled. “I promised you I’d come.”

  Leaning back, she stared up at him. Looking at his sister brought back memories of when they’d stood outside their mother’s bedroom comforting each other after the doctor informed them that Annette Remington had passed away in her sleep. Even though he had been told that his mother was terminally ill, Lee at nine had not understood or believed she wouldn’t be there for him and Viviana. The reality of losing one parent was compounded by the absence of his father. Emory Remington had been arrested, convicted and sentenced to five years in jail for the robbery of a convenience store to get the money he needed to pay his drug dealer. Lee would never forget the shame of his father being escorted to his mother’s funeral in handcuffs and shackles by US marshals. Although it was a private service, with only family and close friends in attendance, word had still got out that the deceased’s husband wasn’t permitted to sit with his children, but was sandwiched between two federal police officers at the back of the church.

  “I’m so sorry I put you through this,” Viviana said, as a new wave of tears filled her eyes.

  Reaching into the pocket of his fatigues, Lee took out a handkerchief and dabbed her face. He had promised his mother he would always take care of his younger sister, and he would. “Stop beating yourself up, Vivi. I’ll pay the back taxes, and once that’s done we’ll sit down together and figure out whatever else you have to pay off.”

  Viviana took the handkerchief and blew her nose. “That scammer stole my identity and ran up thousands of dollars of debt, which has ruined my credit. I barely have enough money to keep the lights on.”

  Lee stared over his sister’s head. Seeing a woman cry was his Achilles’ heel. There were times when he’d snuck into his mother’s bedroom to find her in tears. The sight had rendered him motionless when she cried without making a sound. He didn’t know if it was because she was in pain, or because she was rapidly facing mortality and knew she wouldn’t live long enough to see her children grow to adulthood.

  Cradling Viviana’s face in his hands, he angled his head. “Haven’t I always promised to take care of you?” She nodded and smiled through her tears. “Then I want you to believe me when I say you’re not going to lose the house or walk around in the dark. Give me a few days to get acclimated and then we’re going to sit together to figure how to get you back on your feet. And even though the house is yours, I’m going to make a few suggestions about not reopening it as a boardinghouse again.”

  Viviana smiled through her tears. “What are you talking about?”

  Lee pressed a kiss to her forehead. “No hints. We’ll discuss it after we straighten out our financial dilemma.”

  She blinked slowly. “Our dilemma, Lee?” she questioned. “It’s not about your or ours, but my dilemma. It was me who let some slimeball sweet-talk me to where I trusted him so much that I believed everything that came out of his corrupted mouth until it was too late. I—”

  “Enough!” Lee said gently. The single word, although spoken quietly, had the same impact as if he’d shouted. “We’re not going to talk about your so-called friend ever again. He’s your past and will remain that. I’m back to help you look ahead and rebuild what you feel you’ve lost. The house is still standing and with a few repairs it will be back in business, good as new.”

  “That’s what I told her.”

  Lee went completely still when he heard a voice he’d almost forgotten. Turning slowly, he stared at the person he hadn’t thought he would ever see again. It had been at least twenty years since he and Emory Remington had come face-to-face, and those encounters were branded in his mind like a tattoo.

  Even before and after serving his sentence for armed robbery and finishing his parole, Emory would show up without warning and stay for a week or two. Whenever he came, Viviana was like a kid in a toy shop, laughing with delight that her father was back, but for Lee it was different. They barely exchanged more than a dozen words, and it always was as if he was waiting for the other shoe to drop and he’d wake up to find his father gone. And only when his father left had he allowed himself to relax. It was if Emory had a restless spirit that wouldn’t permit him to stay in one place too long. There were so many things he wanted to say to Emory and most of them weren’t good, but his upbringing wouldn’t permit him to openly verbalize those thoughts.

  Emory was only fifty-one, but appeared much older. It wasn’t just the snow-white ponytail or the lines around his brown eyes, but the obvious weariness in his nut-brown face that was probably the result of years of drug use coupled with incarceration. What hadn’t changed was his slender physique and the ramrod-straight posture of a former marine.

  A muscle twitched in Lee’s jaw. “What are you doing here?”

  Viviana reached for Lee’s hand, her fingernails biting into his palm. “Please, Lee, don’t start with him. If you want I’ll have Daddy move into one of the guesthouses.”

  Lee glared at his sister. If she had told him Emory was staying with her he would’ve been more than prepared to see the man again. “Don’t. It looks as if I’m the intruder here. I’ll check in to the Heritage House extended-stay motel off the interstate.”

  “Lee, please stay,” Viviana pleaded.

  He forced a smile he didn’t feel. “It’s okay, Vivi. I need some time alone to get used to civilian life again. Call me when you get all of your paperwork together. Check every place in the house where your ex-boyfriend could’ve hidden receipts from you.”

  That said, he turned on his heel and walked out. He returned to his jeep and backed out of the driveway. It took every ounce of self-control not to say all of the things he’d wanted to say to the man who was his father. For years he’d rehearsed the words he would tell Emory Remington to let him know just how he felt about him. However, time and maturity had changed him to a point where he now rarely thought of the man or how his absence had emotionally scarred him. He had lost his mother, while his father had abandoned his wife, son and daughter.

  Lee had discussed his fears and apprehensions with the army psychiatrist, and those sessions had helped him see things in a whole new light. The doctor had pointed out that if his father had been killed in combat the result would’ve been the same: Emory would not have been there for his wife or his children. It took a number of sessions for him to realize there were different forms of loss and abandonment.

  As much as he wanted to come home to help his sister, something had him dreading his decision. There were things about his hometown that wouldn’t permit him to feel completely comfortable living there again. It had been people with long memories dredging up stories about how immoral the Wolfes had been to their employees, how they’d preferred shutting down the mines and putting people out of work rather than improving safety conditions. Then there was the gossip about his mother breaking her engagement to a boy from a good family to elope with Emory, an aspiring artist,
who got a job as a sign maker while he painted in his spare time.

  Lee drove onto the county road leading to the interstate. He had wanted to yell at Viviana for not warning him that Emory was back and living with her, but that wouldn’t have solved anything. His sister was already emotionally drained, having allowed a man to take advantage of her kindness and generosity, and arguing with her would only acerbate her more about her predicament.

  A wry smile twisted Lee’s mouth when he thought of how his sister’s life had paralleled their mother’s. Both had fallen in love with men who had not only disappointed them, but had also broken their hearts.

  Chapter Two

  Lee parked the jeep in the lot adjacent to the Heritage House. He sat motionless and stared out the windshield as a gamut of emotions washed over him like storm-swept waves. Encountering his father again after nearly twenty years had shocked him to the core, because for a long time the lingering images of shackled prisoner Emory Remington would occasionally surface and prevent him from getting a restful night’s sleep.

  And seeing him that way had prompted Lee to ask his deceased mother’s older sister about his absentee father. Aunt Babs had explained as simply as she could to a nine-year-old about Emory’s descent into drug addiction, and told him how his father had been arrested in Tennessee and charged with the robbery of a convenience store to get money to buy drugs.

  Even before Emory was incarcerated Lee had become accustomed to not having his father around. The man would come and go every few months, and whenever he asked Emory about his absence, his explanation was always the same: “I have a job painting a sign and I’ll be back as soon as I’m finished.” Lee knew parents had jobs, but he didn’t understand why his father’s work took him away from home so often.

  Lee closed his eyes and shook his head. He was back in The Falls and so was Emory. He didn’t know how long Emory planned to stay, but Lee knew he wouldn’t be able to live under the same roof as the man because he could not let go of the memories of seeing his mother crying for her husband as she lay dying.

  He opened his eyes and exhaled an audible breath. The extended-stay residence, once a motel, had been expanded and renovated. A neon light on an overhead sign indicated there were vacancies. He removed his duffel and backpack from the trunk and pushed open the door to the lobby. The man dozing on a chair behind the front desk sat up when the buzzer rang, indicating someone had come in.

  “Welcome, soldier. What can I do for you?”

  Lee smiled and noted the name Leroy on the badge pinned to the pocket of his chambray shirt. “Good evening. I’d like to check in to one of your one-bedroom suites.”

  The portly man pulled up a pair of suspenders attached to the waistband of his slacks. “How long do you plan to stay? I’m only asking because we have special rates for folks who stay for at least three months. And because you’re military we also offer a fifteen percent discount.”

  Lee digested this information. June. July. August. He would take the three months to settle back into civilian life until he planned his next move. “I’ll take it,” he told the man with a shaved pate and friendly brown eyes.

  “I need a credit card and some government ID.” Lee handed him a credit card and his military driver’s license. “I have one available with a kitchen that includes a full-size refrigerator, dishwasher, compact washer-dryer, stovetop and microwave. Your suite will also have Wi-Fi, televisions in the living and bedrooms, and housekeeping services. If you need clean sheets and towels, just hang the placard on the door and someone will replenish your supply. I’m only going to charge you for half of June, with the fifteen percent discount of course, and if you’re still here in July I’ll charge you for that month. We have a policy that you can check out at any time and management will prorate your bill.” He paused as he took a copy of Lee’s driver’s license. “We can’t have folks accusing us of cheating them. That would be bad for business.”

  “You’ve got that right,” Lee said in agreement.

  Leroy returned Lee’s license and credit card and then gave him two keycards. “Your room is 322. You will find the elevators down the hall on the left. There’s an outdoor pool on the other side of the building, and also an exercise room. I don’t know if you’re familiar with this area, but there are a few chain restaurants and local sports bars less than a quarter of a mile from here. Further up the interstate is a shopping mall. You will find a binder in your room with a listing of stores and shops in the area. There’s also a supermarket close by where you can shop for groceries, or you can go online and order what you want and they’ll deliver them to you. And by the way—thank you for your service.”

  Lee wanted to tell the loquacious man that he was more than familiar with the area, but decided to humor him. “It was an honor to serve,” he said truthfully. He was anxious to check in to his suite, shower and change out of the fatigues into civvies. Earlier that morning he’d just returned from overseas when he was summoned by his commanding officer and informed that effective immediately he was honorably discharged. Lee had packed up his on-base apartment and then gotten into his vehicle to leave the 75th Ranger Regiment headquartered at Fort Benning, Georgia, for West Virginia.

  After changing he planned to go online to order enough groceries to stock the kitchen. His aunt Barbara, whom everyone called Babs, had taught him to cook, and it was something he enjoyed. Even when he returned to base and settled back into his apartment he preferred cooking for himself to eating in the mess hall.

  Lee called his aunt whenever he had the chance. He’d grown to love his guardian as much as he had his mother, and when she’d complained about wanting to move to a warmer climate he’d made all the arrangements for her and her husband to relocate to an Arizona golf community where both had become avid golfers.

  He opened the door to his suite and walked into the living/dining area. Lee was pleasantly surprised to find that it wasn’t filled with the ubiquitous hotel furnishings, but was more in keeping with a personal apartment. Varying shades of green and yellow gave it a tropical look. He dropped his bags and made his way to the bedroom. The vibrant colors were repeated in the wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling drapes and the bed dressing. The bedroom was furnished with a king-size bed, a double dresser and bedside tables. There was a spacious sitting area with a love seat and chaise. A desk and chair with outlets nearby doubled as a mini-office. He knew he would enjoy coming here to relax, cook or sleep, while readjusting to life as a civilian for the first time in a dozen years. Lee made his way to the bathroom and peered inside. He had the option of soaking in the garden tub with a Jacuzzi or utilizing the shower stall with an oversize showerhead.

  Bending, he untied the laces on his boots and then kicked them off. Within minutes he had undressed and left the clothes in a large wicker basket doubling as a hamper and replaced the lid. Lee returned to where he had left his bags and removed a toiletry kit from the duffel. He lathered his face with shaving cream as he studied his reflection in the mirror over a double sink. His hand stilled when he realized he was looking into the face of a younger Emory. There were times when he couldn’t remember what his father looked like because his aunt had removed all photographs of Emory once he was sentenced to prison. It was as if she’d sought to eradicate the memory of the man who’d caused her sister so much emotional pain. Now Lee thought about the times when Aunt Babs stared at him with a perplexed look on her face whenever he stopped by to visit her in Tucson. And he wondered if his startling physical resemblance to her brother-in-law conjured up memories she had buried years before.

  Lee knew his aunt loved him and Viviana as if they were her own children, and wondered if she would ever forgive the man who’d deserted her sister, niece and nephew when they’d needed him most. Turning on the hot water, Lee wet the razor and began the task of removing the stubble he’d grown during his last deployment. And like a prisoner counting down the days for his impending r
elease, Lee counted today as his first as a civilian. And he had another three hundred sixty-four before his time would expire for him to reenlist.

  * * *

  Angela sat on a love seat in the enclosed back porch of her mother-in-law’s home, watching her son and daughter put together a large-piece puzzle. They’d gone to church earlier that morning, and services were followed by Sunday dinner. Afterwards it was time to relax and wind down before preparing for a two-week vacation for her and a six-week one for her children.

  She’d recently celebrated her first year as a working mother. She was employed at a local medical center, and having accrued vacation, she’d decided it was the perfect time to take it. She had never been away from her children since giving birth to them, so it would be a period of adjustment for all of them when visiting her parents and her children’s grandparents.

  She glanced over at her mother-in-law as Joyce Mitchell concentrated piecing squares for a quilt for her granddaughter’s bed. Joyce, a very attractive woman in her midfifties, had been widowed for more than ten years, and had summarily rejected the advances of a number of men who expressed an interest in her. She claimed she was still mourning the loss of her husband and son. Angela hadn’t been widowed as long as Joyce, yet she was realistic enough to know Justin was gone and he was never coming back. Every time Justin left on a mission, his parting words to her had always been that if he didn’t come back alive, then he didn’t want her to spend the rest of her life mourning him. And if she did decide to marry again, to just make certain that the man could love and protect not only her but their children, too.