by Zara Chase
Now she knew different.
A loving ménage was what she’d always wanted to be a part of, even if she hadn’t been consciously aware of the fact. Something had drawn all her brothers into similar relationships. She was obviously meant to be part of one, too, and nothing or no one would stand in her way. Not anymore.
“Drive carefully,” Drew said, his eyes brimming with elusive warmth. “And call me if you need me.”
“I will.”
“We’ll talk later anyway.”
Chapter Eleven
Saturday May 6th
“Honestly, Far, you’d think I’d robbed a bank or something,” Tatum complained. “They say they understand but they don’t, not really. I can see the disappointment in my dad’s eyes every time he looks at me, and it breaks my heart. Why can’t they see how happy I am, and at least try to be glad for me?”
“They’d probably be less angry if you’d turned criminal.” Farah flashed a quick smile. “Still, you can’t be that surprised. You knew what would happen.”
“Yes, I should have waited, but—”
There was something different about Tatum today. She seemed excited and on edge. “Yes,” she said. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Brace yourself, girlfriend.” Tatum paused dramatically, her eyes sparkling with determination. “I’m definitely thinking in terms of getting pregnant.”
“What!” Farah threw her arms around her friend, startling other customers in the Tempting Tea shop with her wild whoop. “I’m going to be an auntie.”
“Not yet you’re not.” Tatum shrugged. “I just feel I really ought to have kids so I can raise them not to carry on grudges they know nothing about.”
Farah’s jaw dropped. “You’ve talked this through with Will and Josh, presumably.”
“Yep.” Tatum smiled, seemingly unconcerned by the further complications this would cause. “That’s partly why I came clean with the parents. Well, and the fact that my name’s on the deposit slip for the gold, right alongside Will’s and Josh’s.”
Farah smiled. “I can see that might have taken some explaining.”
“Well anyway, I want to give Mom and Dad time to get used to us being together before I hit them with the pregnancy thing. However, I’ve already quit my birth control pills so, watch this space,” she said, pointing to her flat belly.
Farah squeezed Tatum’s hand. “If it happens, it’ll really muddy the waters.”
“Yeah, but we figure it’s our lives and they’ll just have to get over themselves.”
“Have you stopped to think how we’re gonna get all the grandparents into one church for the christening without blows being struck?”
“That’s why I need your help.” Tatum fiddled with a packet of sugar. “There has to be a way to resolve this mess.”
“No wonder you were so keen for me to delve deeper. Let’s hope I can come up with something.”
“It’s not like you to look so defeated before you’ve even begun. What happened to the girl I used to know who was determined to right all the world’s wrongs?”
Farah flashed a wry grin. “She grew up.”
“But you will still try, won’t you, Far? For my sake.”
“Of course I will, honey.” Farah patted Tatum’s hand. “I’ll do my very best, but I can’t help thinking that if something does exist, it would have been found before now.”
“If anyone bothered to look properly, perhaps it would have been. But I get the impression that the males in both families rather enjoy being at odds. They’re both so stubborn that neither one is willing to crack first.”
Farah rolled her eyes. “The alpha male thing. Yeah, perhaps you’re right, but things are different now, more complicated.”
“If there’s nothing to be found,” Tatum said, “then I think we should get both families in one room. We’ll kidnap them if necessary, lock the door so they can’t run away, and literally knock their heads together until they agree to a truce.”
Farah laughed. “Good luck pulling that one off. You’re right though, if all else fails, we’ll try and talk some sense into them. My brothers will support Will’s quest for peace and I know Drew will get your lot on side.”
“Oh, you know that about him do you?” Tatum said with an impish smile.
“Your idea of a family get-together isn’t too shabby,” Farah said, trying to cover her slip of the tongue.
“So, worst-case scenario, it will just be the parents continuing with the feud.”
“Yes, but I don’t think any of us will be completely happy with that situation, so let’s hope I find some deep, dark family secret to pulverize them with.”
“What can I do to help?”
“I’ll let you know if there’s anything.” Farah paused. “Will probably told you that my folks—well, my dad really—is still furious. Mom and I tried to calm him down, but he’s pissed as heck with Will.”
“I know.” Tatum rested her elbow on the table and her chin in her cupped hand, looking glum. “Anyone would think that being happy was a federal offence.”
“In our respective parents’ eyes, a federal offence could be forgiven.”
“Tell me about it.” Tatum’s gloomy mood appeared to evaporate as she eyed Farah speculatively. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
“Don’t know what you mean.”
Tatum laughed. “You always were a lousy liar, and don’t imagine I didn’t notice your abrupt change of subject when I mentioned Drew just now. Besides, what you said to me the other day about glowing and stuff now applies just as much to you.” She canted her head and grinned. “Applies to Drew as well, come to think of it. I can’t believe how easily he calmed everyone down when the shit hit the fan regarding my relationship with Will and Josh. It was like he’d risen above it all, and his state of mind rubbed off on everyone else.”
“Ah, so you know.”
“It’s about time.”
Farah blinked. “What do you mean?”
“Babe, don’t treat me like an idiot. I teach high school for goodness sake, so I know when someone’s prevaricating. I also know you’ve had the hots for Drew since forever.”
Farah widened her eyes. “Why do you say that?”
Tatum laughed. “Because for years you’d happily discuss any of my family members with me, but his name never passed your lips. Not once. Even so, if I said anything about him, it always got your complete attention. Same goes for if we happened to bump into him in town. You tried so hard to appear indifferent that it was obvious you weren’t.”
“I had no idea I was so transparent.”
“You and him both. His reaction to you was exactly the same. And you don’t wanna know how he reacted when he heard you’d been shot.”
“I really thought he didn’t like me. I had to go and see a shrink yesterday as part of my rehabilitation after the shooting.” She shrugged. “I thought I was seeing old Doc Miller. Can you imagine my reaction when I saw Drew sitting there with his feet up on his desk, looking like…well, you don’t want to know what I thought he looked like. I figured at first that he’d enjoying quizzing me about the shooting, just to get one up on us McLeans.” Farah shook her head. “I should have known better.”
“Did it help? Seeing him, I mean.”
“Actually, it did. He promised I wouldn’t have to talk about it if I didn’t want to. Then started reading out stupid questions from a form that were very obviously fake. It kinda relaxed me because I knew then that he wouldn’t force me to say anything, and I found myself wanting to talk.”
“I hear my brother’s good at what he does, and Isaac’s a great guy.” Tatum squeezed her hands. “I’m glad for you, babe. It’s about time you had some fun.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I intend to.” She frowned. “Problem is, the families are still recovering from your news. There’s absolutely no way I can tell my folks about Drew and Isaac unless…no, let’s be positive, until I find a way to end this ridiculo
us feud.”
“Both sets of parents seem totally unfazed to find their kids involved in ménages,” Tatum said. “Which is kinda weird, but also very broad-minded of them. I wouldn’t have expected that.”
“Right. Mason and Alex have told mine that they’re an item with Sophie and they’re totally cool about it. It’s just you, a filthy Baldwin, daring to copulate with whiter-than-white McLeans, that’s got them all steamed up.”
“Yeah, same with mine in reverse. If my mother asks me one more time if I’m deliberately trying to send Dad to an early grave, I swear I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
“Well, Drew probably told you that we’re gonna search our respective attics for clues.” Farah elevated her chin. “If evidence exists, we’ll find it.”
“You hear that, guys,” Tatum said to her flat stomach. “Auntie Farah’s on the warpath.”
“Guys, plural?”
“Well, twins do run in the family.”
Farah laughed as she threw some bills on the table to cover their check. “I just love your positive attitude.”
* * * *
Farah’s parents still seemed so upset by Will’s news that at first she thought they might to break the habit of a lifetime and miss their date night.
“A change of scene will do you good, Mom,” Farah said. “Honestly, the way you two are behaving, you’d think the world had come to an end.”
“It has, as far as your dad’s concerned. I worry about his blood pressure when he gets so agitated.” Her mother shook her head. “Perhaps if you hadn’t been so friendly with Tatum Baldwin, Will and Josh wouldn’t have noticed her.”
Ah, so it’s all my fault. “Go on your date, Mom, and try to relax.”
“I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to get mad at you. It’s just that I’ve never seen your dad so upset. I thought he’d calm down, but—”
“You’ll talk him around. He’ll do anything for you.”
Mary McLean expelled a deep sigh. “Actually I like Tatum, but don’t tell your dad I said so.”
“Your secret’s safe with me.” Farah hugged her mom. “Now go and make yourself pretty for Dad.”
As soon as the taillights of her parents’ car had disappeared, Farah pulled down the loft ladder. She slowly climbed up it, ignoring the pull on her thigh as she negotiated the steep rungs.
“Right,” she said, flipping on the light and trying not to sneeze when she disturbed a thick layer of dust.
The good news was that no one could have been up here for a while or the dust wouldn’t be so thick. The bad news was that the place was literally full to the rafters with several generations’ worth of abandoned possessions—no longer required but apparently too precious to throw away. Her mother’s passion for order and organization obviously didn’t extend to the loft. She’d always known she came from a long line of hoarders, but hadn’t realized it was quite this bad. Her heart sank at the daunting task she’d set herself.
“Where the hell to start?”
She noticed boxes full of her brothers’ old toys near the front. Some of them were actually broken. Farah shook her head. Why would anyone keep broken toys? Ah, there was her beloved old rocking horse. She’d loved old Neddy—his tatty mane and battered bodywork proof that he’d given her hours of fun. Rocking horses were trendy nowadays, she thought with her interior designer’s hat on, and fetched good money. Not that she’d ever sell Neddy, but perhaps Drew and Isaac wouldn’t mind having him in their home—wherever they finished up living. And they would be together, of that Farah was absolutely determined. If their respective parents didn’t warm to the idea then they’d just have to move away and start afresh somewhere else.
Farah hated that idea. Although she hadn’t lived in Sanctuary for a while, it was still home and she was used to having her family close by whenever she needed them. If there was a rift then it would be tough to manage without having them to fall back on. Then she thought of Drew and Isaac. No, she had all the support network she needed. She would dislike being estranged from her parents, but it would be nowhere near as bad as losing the two men she loved like crazy.
And she already loved Isaac as much as Drew. Who would have thought it possible? Drew had owned her heart for so long that for another man to encroach upon it so quickly was truly astonishing. Still, it had happened so she figured her heart must have a lot of capacity. There seemed to be plenty of room inside it for Isaac as well as Drew. Perhaps there was something to be said for this love at first sight business after all. Farah smiled—something she’d done a hell of a lot of since the previous afternoon. It had drawn curious glances from her family, even as the battle over Will and Josh’s revelation raged on. Her father took exception to her smiles, accusing her of siding with Tatum because they’d always been close.
Oh, Daddy, if only you knew!
Farah told herself to stop daydreaming and get on with it. She figured that if everything had been thrown into the loft space, blocking the stuff behind it, then anything to do with the start of the feud would be right at the back.
“Go figure,” she muttered with a heavy sigh.
As methodically as possible she cleared a path to the very back of the space, screeching when she disturbed spiders and got their webs tangled in her hair. Yep, Billings’s youngest detective—a kickass woman who didn’t take shit from anyone, and who accepted getting shot at as part of the job—was arachnophobic.
“Don’t tell anyone,” she said to Neddy, tapping his chipped nose and smiling to cover her genuine fear at sharing this space with its eight-legged squatters.
The nights were still cool, but up here the air was stale and warm. Farah wiped perspiration from her brow with the sleeve of her shirt, wondering if this would prove to be a massive waste of time.
“At least I found you again,” she told Neddy.
Farah disciplined herself not to get sidetracked by old treasures she knew weren’t germane to her investigation. Ignoring a box containing souvenirs from family vacations, she methodically ploughed her way to the farthest corner. It took over an hour to reach it. Her leg protested, but she ignored the discomfort. She wouldn’t get another chance to rummage up here undetected for another week, and she wasn’t prepared to wait that long. Being a part of her family right now was akin to sitting on a powder keg, wondering who had the detonator. The whole thing was definitely going to blow up sooner rather than later, and Farah wanted to be the one in control of that explosion.
Finally, she reached the corner she’d been heading for. There was a huge, old-fashioned steamer trunk buried beneath the rubble that looked promising. Its hinges squeaked a loud complaint as Farah forced the lid open. Ridiculously, she closed her eyes, afraid suddenly of what she might find. When she opened them again she found herself looking at clothes that had to date back a hundred years.
“Bingo!”
Unfortunately, having rummaged methodically through the neat stacks, that was all there was to find. Male clothing from bygone times in remarkably good condition. Farah wondered whom it had belonged to, but wasn’t left in ignorance for long. A name was scrawled on the inside of the lid, the ink faded by legible.
“Marcus McLean,” she read, her heart quickening.
She was pretty sure he must be her great-grandfather, the son of the man responsible for building the McLean house. That would make sense if his possessions were farthest away from the loft opening. Still, it wouldn’t help much if there was nothing written down to help her learn more about him. Funny that she’d never heard his name mentioned in the family or seen any pictures of him in the huge family album that Mom had lovingly put together.
“Could Great-Grandfather Marcus be the family’s black sheep?” she asked aloud.
Farah closed the trunk and struggled to move it aside so she could get to the rest of the stuff stored behind it. As she did so, she wondered what her great-grandfather had looked like. Was there a family resemblance? Would he recognize her or any of her brothers if h
e was here today? Was he responsible for starting this stupid feud?
“Well, Great-Granddaddy,” she said to his trunk. “Just look where it’s gotten us. What have you got to say for yourself now?”
Farah rummaged through more boxes, this time allowing herself to become distracted. Some of the china and glass she found stored there was old, exquisite, and worth a small fortune. She was surprised no previous generations had pounced upon it, or at least put it on display. It was too nice to be hidden away from the world. Farah made a mental note to tell her mom about it when the time was right.
Tired and covered in dirt, Farah wondered how much longer she could afford to linger before her parents returned and caught her at it. All she’d found so far was her great-grandfather’s clothing, and some lovely artifacts. Two more boxes to go. They looked promising, but contained nothing even remotely interesting.
She collapsed on a tea chest, totally spent.
“Shit, nothing,” she said, wiping the perspiration from her brow, mentally conceding defeat. If something existed, it wasn’t here.
About to turn away, she stood up too quickly and banged her head on the sloping ceiling.
“Ouch!”
She reached up to rub her head and her hand bashed against an uneven edge in the boarded ceiling, cutting her finger.
“Great, just great!”
Farah sucked her injured digit until the flow of blood slowed, then glared up at the offending board.
“What the hell…”
Her breathing hitched when she realized what she was actually looking at. It wasn’t an uneven board, but a hinge that protruded fractionally from the flat surface of the ceiling. There was a small doorway built into the sloping roof, almost invisible to the naked eye. No wonder if hadn’t been found before. If she hadn’t banged her head…Farah’s pulse rate accelerated. At last she was onto something. It was the only explanation for such a carefully concealed hiding place.
