Love Under Two Outcasts [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Cara Covington

  “Yes, Jesse?”

  “Baby, when you’re ready to talk about that ex-fiancé of yours, we’ll be ready to listen. When you know in your heart that you can tell us anything, and we would never, ever judge you for it.”

  Did she thank them for their restraint, or smack them for their presumption to handle something that really was her responsibility? Charlotta couldn’t decide between the two. An old admonition from childhood echoed in her memory. Her parents had always told her she couldn’t have things both ways.

  That maxim was as true now as it had been then. Charlotta reached for her drink and had the sense that, despite the fact she’d had boyfriends in the past, and even been engaged to be married, she was finally about to discover what it was like to be with a real man.

  Times two.

  * * * *

  Barry liked the pre-dawn minutes the best here in Texas. The heat of summer didn’t surprise him so much, because they could have triple digit days in Montana, too. The biggest difference was that there, the weather could and did change in a day, and he’d be reaching for a thicker, warmer shirt.

  His older brothers had warned them that there’d likely be no cooling trends here until after October.

  Divine had been warm at Christmas—and in more ways than one. They’d been unexpectedly put on the hot seat there. They’d felt like outcasts—which really had been nothing more than they deserved. Barry sighed. They’d tried to get over there to see Veronica, but she was a busy woman. An important one, too, judging by the best-seller lists they’d seen. He couldn’t be more proud of her.

  She’d suffered a lot because of them. He and Jesse were of one mind. They’d wait, without complaining, for however long it took to have a chance to talk with their sister again—to begin to build a new relationship with her.

  Coffee cup in hand, he settled into one of two lawn chairs they’d set up just outside the back door of his brothers’ newest horse barn. They’d converted the back corner of the structure into a bunk house, of sorts. Their sister-in-law, Ari, had offered them bedrooms in the house, but they’d declined. Not, as his older brothers hinted their bride had worried, because they didn’t feel welcome, but because she was their bride. The three of them deserved their privacy—hell, they were really still on their honeymoon. The last thing any of them needed was two siblings under their roof. He and Jesse were happy to have been able to come here and be welcomed, and so completely so at that. They’d been overwhelmed to have been accepted so readily by their Texas relatives and even given land to call their own.

  They’d expected to be treated like outcasts—which was how they thought of themselves. I still don’t understand how we couldn’t have seen what was happening with Veronica. How could we have been so blind?

  They had all the comforts of home here in this horse barn—comfy beds, satellite TV, and a kitchenette. They ate most breakfasts and evening meals up at the house with Cord, Jackson, and Ari, and even took their turns at cooking.

  Life was pretty damn good.

  He heard the sound of his brother in their makeshift kitchen, fixing his first coffee of the day. Then Jesse settled in next to him, and together they watched the sky begin to lighten.

  Barry took a bracing sip from his coffee mug. “I checked my cell phone just before I went to bed last night. Mother left a message for me to call her.”

  “Huh. She didn’t leave one for me.”

  Barry grinned. “Well now, you were a mite testy with her the last time you spoke to her, as I recall.”

  “Do you blame me? She came right out and said that if we apologized to her and Liz Maxwell for our detestable behavior, she would forgive us and we could come home. As if our part in seeing those two horse thieves charged was wrong—and, as if our leaving was her idea instead of ours.”

  “No, I don’t blame you for the way you snapped at her, because, as I recall, I was standing right beside you, listening to the entire conversation, and gave you a high five when you ended the call.”

  “Sorry.” Jesse ran a hand through his hair. “Damn it, just thinking about all that shit makes me crazy. Those bastards Phil and Gord deserved to be found guilty. I still feel sick inside when I think of what they did to those horses.”

  “Me, too. That’s the worst part of it. They used those defenseless creatures to get back at us. Fucking cowards.”

  Silence hung between them. He could feel his brother looking at him, and couldn’t blame him. He really was the calmer of the pair, the more reasonable, and the one most likely to get a laugh, as it had said in his high school yearbook.

  He rarely showed his deeper emotions. That was just the way he was wired. But what their former best friends had done—poaching wild horses that had been sheltered on Benedict land and selling them for profit, some going to a slaughter house—that went beyond heinous in Barry’s book.

  “So…you gonna call Mother back, or what?”

  “Not this early, I’m not. I’ll wait until the heat of the day, when I’m fighting off gnats and sticker bushes and sweat is running down my back and I’m feeling all blue-collar like. Then I’ll call Her Highness.”

  “I hope you’ll return the favor and let me listen in when you do, brother.”

  “Of course. How else can I be sure you’ve got my back, otherwise?”

  “Speaking of having each other’s backs, I don’t think I told you how grateful I was that you let me ride to the bar with Shar last night.”

  “You’re welcome.” He recalled the instant—hell, the entire span of time from when they first set eyes on the sexy psychologist, until they’d said good night. “I wasn’t expecting her. I wasn’t expecting to ever meet a woman like her. She’s…” Words failed him. Charlotta Carmichael was smart and sassy, she had a wicked sense of humor, and she was, quite simply, the most beautiful woman he’d ever met.

  “Yeah.” Jesse sighed. “When she first spoke to us and I looked up yesterday afternoon, it was as if everything was suddenly…good. Good and new and possible.”

  They’d spent a couple of hours with her at that bar, Lucy’s. They hadn’t had very much to drink, only a couple beers each. But they’d talked and talked, getting to know each other. They’d even eaten supper there together. They’d parted ways when they’d left the bar around eight, but not before exchanging cell phone numbers, as well as a tentative plan to spend time together Saturday, after the Healing Rides sessions. Then, of course, they’d followed her home just to be certain she got there safely.

  They wouldn’t see her again until tomorrow. Today was Friday, with its own busy agenda. “I just know she’s going to be on my mind all day today.”

  “It’s going to seem like the longest day ever, that’s for sure. But taking it slow feels right.” Jesse looked at him. “I don’t want to fuck this up, Barry. I have the feeling that she could become the most important person in our lives.” He shook his head. “And a part of me feels as if we don’t deserve someone as smart and sexy as her.”

  “I know exactly what you mean, because I feel the same way.” The sun crested the eastern rise, the rancher’s signal that the new day had indeed begun. He and his brother had been tuned to the rhythm of the sun and the seasons all their lives. They’d known, even as small kids that they’d grow up to be ranchers. And that had never been an issue for either of them.

  They were both ranchers down to their souls.

  Barry had figured on working Benedict land all his life. But his mother’s vitriol, when Phil and Gord Maxwell, their former best friends and sons of their mother’s life-long best friend, had been charged with theft and fraud had been the last straw.

  All the way back to Montana after Christmas in Divine last year, attending their sister Veronica’s binding ceremony, their mother had done nothing but complain about what she referred to as her children’s disloyalty. Veronica, for not telling them in advance that she’d gotten married and to two men at that, and Cord and Jackson’s for their decision to settle in Lusty and share
a wife.

  When she turned her venom on them for doing what they knew was the right thing, they’d decided then and there, they could no longer live and work at home.

  Home, in fact, had ceased to be home.

  The woman’s priorities are seriously skewered. We’re better off here.

  Barry hoped that time and distance would work to get Norah Benedict to open her eyes. His mother wasn’t a bad woman. He had some fond memories of being cuddled when he’d awakened from bad dreams, and snuggling in bed between his parents on lazy winter Sundays.

  “Kitchen light just went on.”

  Jesse’s words pulled him back to the moment. He got to his feet, and, with his brother, set his coffee cup in their kitchen sink.

  Then they headed up to their brothers’ house to pitch in making breakfast and discuss what needed doing that day.

  Chapter 4

  Charlotta sat in a chair in one of the observation and interview rooms at the G & P Wellness Center. On the other side of the two-way mirror, and in what looked like a playroom, one of her newest clients, nine-year-old Amy Brown sat quietly with one of the center’s trained volunteers in attendance. Amy had been a client of the center for a short time before Charlotta had joined the staff. Judging by the way the young girl held herself, she knew she was being watched.

  On the other side of the table from Charlotta sat Amy’s mother, Alice. The first observation Charlotta made was that the woman didn’t wear her stress very well.

  Mrs. Brown had first brought Amy to the center in the aftermath of her husband’s suicide, earlier in the year. The psychologist who saw Amy then didn’t have any lingering concerns about the young girl’s emotional state. Yes, she’d been grieving, but she’d talked, and as Dr. Fisher had noted in her reports, Amy was progressing within normal parameters through the stages of grief. After several visits, it was agreed by the psychologist and Amy’s mother that further visits were unnecessary.

  But lately Amy appeared to have suffered a severe setback. According to not only her mother, but her teachers, she had been in the final stage of grieving—she seemed to have finally accepted the loss of her father and had been getting back into some of the things she’d enjoyed doing before his death. She’d exhibited more energy and had begun laughing again.

  But a month ago, she began acting out in school, her grades dropped, and she’d clammed up. A girl who had been easy to speak to was suddenly silent—and, Charlotta thought, almost hostilely so. While some fluctuation in grief recovery was to be expected, all indications were that Amy’s reaction had ricocheted back to the beginning, and this time around, her behavior was more extreme than it had been in the weeks immediately following her father’s death.

  Charlotta had had sessions with Amy three times now. The child wasn’t really interested in talking, and Charlotta didn’t know how she could persuade her to do so. Something was eating at her. Until she decided to open up about it, the options for helping her were very limited.

  For a few minutes, she just sat back and watched Alice watching Amy. The love was right there on the woman’s face, as was her frustration. The death of a parent was about the worst thing a child could suffer, psychologically speaking. For the surviving parent, that loss was also difficult as they tried to cope with not only their own personal grief, but the grieving of their child.

  Charlotta had read and re-read Amy’s file. She had the sense that she was missing something. “Tell me about Amy’s extended family, Alice.”

  “We don’t have a lot of people in our extended family, Dr. Carmichael. My parents are gone. I have a sister who lives in Fort Worth, and a brother I don’t see very often because he’s in New York State. Chuck’s folks were divorced when he was about eighteen. His father has remarried and lives in San Antonio. His mother, Betty, lives here in Waco—it was one of the reasons we moved here, Chuck and I, so he could be closer to his mom. She didn’t cope well with her divorce, even though it was her idea.” Alice sighed. “Amy and I have been seeing her regularly, of course. I know how important it was to Chuck to be there for his mother. I’m doing the best I can to continue that—it’s one of the things I can do to honor him.” Alice gave Charlotta a half smile. “Those first few weeks we all three clung together, you know? We all three of us just tried to get through each day.” Alice sighed. “Losing Chuck was probably as hard on Betty as it was on Amy.”

  Charlotta frowned. “I read in the file that Chuck had two brothers. Where are they?”

  “They work a ranch together outside of Dallas. They came to the funeral, of course, and have called Amy once a week ever since. They’ve invited the two of us to come out and stay for a little while. But…I didn’t want to leave Betty on her own for that long. She’s very fragile.”

  Charlotta sat back and did her best to appear relaxed, giving the impression that she and Alice were simply having a conversation while her instincts, on alert, told her brain to pay attention.

  “They invited you and Amy, but not their own mother?”

  “Chuck used to say that neither Roy nor Rory had any patience for their mom. It was the only bone of contention between him and his brothers.”

  “That’s unfortunate.”

  “Do you think I should reconsider their invitation, Dr. Carmichael? You know, call them, and tell them we’d like to come out for a week? Maybe Betty would be all right for a week if I called her every day.”

  Charlotta resisted pointing out that Betty was a woman grown, and not Alice’s first priority. “Do you think it would be good for Amy to get away and visit her uncles?”

  “Well, Betty thought that we might probably just be in the way of their ranching operation—that they invited us but, you know, were only going through the motions, to be polite. But…maybe a change of scenery would help?”

  The poor woman was practically begging her for guidance. “You know, you could find that out fairly easily, couldn’t you? Call them. If they were just paying lip service, they’ll say no, or give excuses why this next week is a bad time for you to come.”

  “I should do that. Betty’s coming to dinner tonight. Maybe I’ll call them after dinner.”

  Charlotta didn’t often have what she felt could be urgent intuitive moments. But she was having one now. “Why wait? Do you have their number in your phone?” If not, Charlotta would do what she could to track it down.

  “I do. But…”

  “If you call right now and make plans, you can tell Amy right now that you’re going away for a week. The news might cheer her up—especially when you announce it as a plan made, and not just as a ‘maybe.’”

  “Okay. Yes, that makes sense.”

  Charlotta sat quietly while she made the call. From the end of the conversation she heard, it was Rory she spoke to. The expression on her face showed not only her surprise, but her pleasure.

  She ended the call and met Charlotta’s gaze. “Wow. He said not only ‘hell, yes,’ but they’re bringing the SUV tonight to pick us up.”

  Charlotta grinned. It sounded like Betty had been wrong about her sons’ motives. “I guess you and Amy are in for a week’s vacation.” Since Alice worked online from home, she knew the woman could easily pick up and move for a week with no problem.

  “I guess we are. Thank you, Dr. Carmichael. I’ll call you when we return to Waco.”

  “Please do. And Alice? Make sure you take some time to unwind for yourself.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  Amy perked up at the news. Then she frowned. “Grandma will probably say no.”

  “Grandma isn’t the boss of this family, young lady. I am.”

  Charlotta noted the skepticism in Amy’s eyes. Maybe this change in scenery, and being around other family, would help stimulate Amy. She could only hope so.

  Charlotta took a few minutes to make some notes and jot down a few questions to herself for her to consider after she saw Amy next time.

  “I’m calling it a day.”

  Charlotta looked
up at Helen Sands, the admin for the psychology team at the center. “You have a hot date tonight?”

  “Naw. Bill is away until tomorrow—that conference in Toledo.” Then she grinned and raised her eyebrows in a mock leer. “But if I’m lucky there might be some hot phone sex in the cards for me for tonight.”

  Helen and Bill had been happily married for more than thirty years. Helen had once told her that the secret to a great sex life when they’d had small kids around could be summed up in one word—Vaseline—applied liberally to the outside bedroom door handle.

  “What about you? Any hot plans for the weekend?” Helen asked.

  Charlotta was well aware that she’d be seeing the brothers Benedict tomorrow. It was going to be their first stint volunteering with Healing Rides. They’d not made definite plans for afterward, but they had told her, yesterday when they’d parted ways, that she should think about if she wanted to get to know them better or not, and tell them after the session at the stables. If it was a yes, then they’d figure something out.

  Charlotta had thought of little else since then.

  She gave Helen what she knew must have been a very coy kind of smile. “It’s a very distinct possibility. I’ll know for certain tomorrow.”

  “Then I’ll keep my fingers crossed and think sexy thoughts and send ’em your way.” Helen winked, and then left.

  Charlotta laughed, willing to bet that Helen’s thoughts were a lot more ‘sexy’ than most fifty-year-old women could boast.

  * * * *

  Jesse hopped up onto the tailgate, sitting next to his brother as Barry made the call to their mom. He’d known his brother had waited to do this until Cord and Jackson had headed off back to the house. Neither of them had gone into all of the details as to why they’d wanted to make the move from Montana to Texas. They might have to say something eventually, but neither was ready yet to do that.