Their Lusty Little Valentine [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Cara Covington

  “Only a couple? That’s not enough to establish pattern,” Samantha said. She nodded her thanks to Preston for sliding the note pad and pen toward her, and to Taylor for bringing her a cup of coffee.

  “No, it’s not enough. But my gut was telling me that this was something, so I had Brian do some digging into civil case records for the city of New York, over the last two years. He’s back at the library, and looking for more, but he called me last night, when he got home. So far he’s found fifteen cases filed by Peter Nolan Associates, and in all fifteen, the defendants settled out of court—Brian says that some of the settlements were only a few thousand dollars, but if you extrapolate that…”

  “Sounds like Mr. Nolan has a tidy little make-work project going.”

  “It does, doesn’t it? And in seven of those fifteen cases, guess who the plaintiff was?”

  “Morton Robbins?”

  “Yes, indeed.”

  This was more than Samantha had hoped for. She’d suspected that the lawyer who’d filed the suit might be less than reputable. But she’d never dreamed that Robbins, himself, could be so blatantly fraudulent.

  “So it looks like this case is similar to the others—except for the amount of money he’s ‘suing’ the Kendalls for.”

  “Yes, when he researched the Kendalls of Central Texas, he must have thought he’d hit the jackpot.” Her father paused, and she thought she could hear the sound of him sipping his own morning coffee. “I spoke with Martin Kendall last night. He sounds like a good, solid family man. He’s grateful for the help you’re giving to him and his brother. They’ve been kind to you, so of course, I hate to see him and his family dragged through the muck just so some opportunist can make a few fast bucks.”

  Martin Kendall hadn’t mentioned that her father had called last night. Of course, she hadn’t seen him or Nick yet this morning. They’d been gone when they arrived at the New House. “That makes two of us, Dad.”

  “I’m sorry I missed you when I called. It wasn’t that much after you spoke to your mother, so I was surprised you weren’t there.”

  There it was. Samantha kept her smile off her face, in order to keep it out of her voice. “Yes, I’m sorry I missed your call last night, too.” She was too much her father’s daughter to fall for such a simple ploy as the one he’d just used.

  “Ah, well. Perhaps you have another phone number where you can be reached?”

  “Not at the moment, no. Thank you for this, Dad. And please be sure to thank Brian for me.”

  “Your thanks are unnecessary. You’re my daughter. Besides, people like this Nolan character give lawyers everywhere a bad name and the system indigestion. As soon as Brian has a comprehensive list of the so-called cases these two men have brought before the courts, I’ll courier it out to you. Or send it to whatever local law firm the Kendalls decide to use.”

  “Thanks again, Dad. I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Sam.” He paused, as if trying to find the right words. Then, his tone slightly different, he said, “Please take care of yourself.”

  “I will. I promise. Good-bye.”

  She hung up the phone and looked at it for a moment. This is a strange time for him to suddenly have separation anxiety. She found it interesting that her father hadn’t given a single protest when she’d proposed driving to Austin by herself and living there for several years. But now that he thought she had a man in her life, he was acting…funny.

  She really knew her father quite well, but she couldn’t necessarily say she understood him. Maybe if he fussed at her again, she’d remind him that her mother had been two years younger than she was now when he met and then married her.

  Or maybe not. Resorting to that defense might get him to thinking she was altar bound, and that would never do.

  “Kitten?”

  Samantha looked up and encountered three pairs of worried gazes. She must have been staring at the phone for a long time.

  “Yes?”

  “Is everything all right?”

  “Yes, it’s fine.”

  “I didn’t know your father called last night.”

  “I’d forgotten that he’d said he was going to do that—call and talk to your father and thank him for helping me.”

  “Did he tell you which one he got hold of?” Taylor asked.

  Samantha wanted to burst out laughing at the way the men seemed to be holding their breath, waiting for her answer.

  “He said he spoke with Martin Kendall.”

  All three sighed with relief. “All right. Good. That’s good,” Preston said. “That particular father can be counted on to be circumspect under all conditions. The other one, not so much so.”

  “I resent that. I can be circumspect when the occasion calls for it.”

  Samantha had watched the door open after she’d told the men which father her father had spoken to. She’d already figured out that Nicholas Kendall loved to kid. On Sunday night when the Benedicts had been over for dinner, there’d actually been an unofficial competition between him and Patrick Benedict. The one-liners and puns had been thick.

  “Well, sir,” she said, smiling at him, “you may resent it but you can’t deny it. Since you were outside the room when I said your brother’s name. Based on this evidence, of course, it is clear that you’re quite in agreement of your sons’ analysis.”

  Nick looked as if he wanted to laugh, too. “There is, of course, one other conclusion that can be drawn based on the evidence at hand.”

  “True,” Samantha said, “but I didn’t think you wanted it noted into the record that you could have been eavesdropping at the door. Sir.”

  Nick burst out laughing, and that mirth was echoed by his sons. “Very good, Samantha. You’re going to be a real pistol in the courtroom. I’m looking forward to that.”

  No compliment could have pleased her more.

  “We think so, too, Dad,” Preston said.

  “Your grandmother has made some scones, and I’ve been sent to bring y’all to the table for lunch. Also, Gerry and Pat are here. We’ve been lending them a hand at the ranch this morning. If you’ve made any progress, you can perhaps give us an update, and we can decide what’s to be done.”

  “I take it the Misters Benedict are aware of the…situation?” Samantha would only discuss what she considered to be a delicate family matter if urged to do so by her hosts. She didn’t want them to think, even for a minute, that she lacked…circumspection.

  Nick grinned and in that instant she saw his son, Preston. “This is Lusty,” Nick said. “I’m afraid that everyone knows everything about…well, everything, here. We’re all family, after a fashion.” His smile softened. “We’re all on the same side here, my dear.”

  Chapter 15

  It wasn’t only Gerald and Patrick Benedict who were at the dining table for lunch. Kate and the senior Benedicts were there, as well.

  Chelsea must have sensed her surprise. After all, Nick had asked her to give an update on what her father had discovered. The fact that Kate and Madeline were there made her a little leery to talk about the situation. “We’re family but we’re also more,” Chelsea said. “Everyone who’s a part of the combined families is also a part of the town trust. It’s the trust that owns the land the town is built on, and the trust that manages the treasury. Any decisions that affect the families and the trust are made by all of us, together.”

  “However we decide to respond to this lawsuit from Morton Robbins, that decision will be made jointly by the elected members of the trust,” Preston said.

  “Which is everyone sitting at this table except you, Samantha.” Miranda patted her hand. “That doesn’t mean you can’t participate in the discussion, of course. In fact, we all very much want you to do just that. You just can’t vote yet.”

  They had her seated between Kate and Miranda. Across from her, Preston, Taylor, and Charles smiled politely to everyone. But she had seen their frowns when their mother had put her on this side of the table.
Might not be a bad idea to shake them up a little every now and then. They were three men in possession of very healthy egos and very dominant personalities. Dominance could bleed into arrogance if it wasn’t monitored properly.

  It felt more than a little bit strange that of all the people sitting at this dining room table, not a single one of them acted as if she didn’t belong right there with them.

  They only met me on Sunday, and yet they seem to have accepted me as one of them. She would characterize that sort of easy acceptance as naiveté, except she knew full well that every person here had a mind that was as sharp as a tack and each one was twice as savvy.

  I wonder if it’s their unique heritage that makes them so accepting of others. She guessed that was a part of it. The bigger part, though, was that Preston, Taylor, and Charlie loved her, and their love made her, somehow, a part of Lusty.

  That was all well and good—actually, it was extraordinary—and she loved those men right back. But none of that changed her reality. Come next Sunday, when her car was repaired, she would be heading off, destination Austin and the future that awaited her there.

  She’d been planning that future for the better part of the last five years. Every decision she had made since she’d been a teenager had been made with that goal in mind. She couldn’t just…just change horses in the middle of the race. She was a woman of her word. What would her family think if she changed her mind now?

  “Don’t fret.” Kate, who was sitting on her left, laid a hand on her head. “Everything will work out in the end, Samantha. Sometimes our logical selves can’t see that…we can’t see how what we want can possibly happen, when what we want seems to be a dichotomy. But I have learned that the future really does tend to take care of itself.”

  Samantha wished she felt just a smidgeon of the faith Kate Benedict seemed to exude so easily. She smile and nodded to Kate to acknowledge her kindness, but kept any thoughts to herself. Her inner voice was giving her contradictory advice, anyway.

  So while she hadn’t planned to respond, she said, “I guess I’m just not there, yet, Mrs. Benedict. I can’t see it.”

  “Kate,” the woman corrected. “And of course you can’t see it. Not yet. Sometimes I think life likes to jerk us around a little, having its fun with us. But there will come a moment when what seems complicated now—even impossible—will sudden appear the most simple and natural of situations. Until then, just keep on grooving, as they say these days.”

  “I’ll keep your advice in mind,” she said. Samantha decided to put the mental and emotional wrangling aside for now, and accepted the bowl of rice salad from Miranda instead.

  One thing she had noticed was that every meal at the Kendalls’ was enormous. Lunch today had rice salad, a green salad, cold cuts and, of course, freshly made scones that looked and smelled wonderful.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t leave word that your father called last night,” Martin said. “I told him that he’d just missed you, which was nothing but the truth. He sounds like a good man.”

  “He said the same about you, sir.” Samantha decided to take Kate’s words to heart. There really wasn’t anything she could do about the future right now. She had been nothing but honest with the brothers Kendall. Yes, she was in love with them, and that in itself was a miracle. She’d never believed she would ever fall in love with one man, let alone three.

  The men knew her plans and had even said they would do all they could to help her realize her dreams. So for now, she would just accept their words as truth. She would forget about the future, and instead focus on the matter at hand.

  Talk about seizing the day!

  “Did your father have any news for us when he called, Samantha?” Nick asked.

  “Yes, as it turns out, he did.” While food was passed and plates were loaded up, Samantha filled everyone in, relaying what her father and his assistant Brian had discovered about Peter Nolan and Morton Robbins. “Dad said that he’d get Brian to type up a complete list of prior cases involving the two, and then either send it here, special delivery, or to whichever law firm in New York you choose to represent you.”

  “The longer I live the more complicated life gets,” Charles Benedict said. “It seems to me with every new innovation man comes up with to make life easier, there’re a whole new raft of consequences that no one ever seems able to foresee.”

  “I’m with you,” Dalton said. “Laws that were put in place to protect people from unscrupulous business practices are being used by con men to take advantage of innocent people.”

  “The danger, of course, is the way that kind of thing—the nuisance lawsuit—can diminish the real intent and power of the law.” Martin shook his head. “Sort of like a modern-day version of the boy who cried wolf, if you know what I mean.”

  “But what comes next?” Taylor asked. “More laws and regulations to stop what shouldn’t be happening in the first place? That doesn’t appeal, at all.”

  “Common sense just isn’t so common anymore,” Jeremy Kendall said. Then he looked at his grandsons. “I’m glad I’m not where you young men are right now. Anyone about to begin the business of making a life has a lot more things to be worried about in this modern age than we did when we were starting out.” He shook his head. “And it’s only going to get more complicated.”

  Chelsea patted his hand. “Truer words were never spoken.” Then she grinned at him. “Except, if I recall, by Caleb Benedict, my father. I think he said those very same words not long after we announced that we were getting married.”

  “So he did, sweetheart.” Dalton smiled at his wife. “I guess that’s why we older folk pass the torch to the next generation in the first place. The fight in us gets all used up, and the younger ones have to take over.”

  “Oh, you still have plenty of fight in you, Dad,” Miranda said. “You’re just more subtle about it.”

  Dalton laughed and clapped Martin on the shoulder. “Have I ever told you what a good choice in bride you and your brother made, son?”

  Martin looked at his wife. “Only a few thousand times. But don’t let that stop you. I appreciate the reminder.”

  “We’ve all been very fortunate,” Madeline Benedict said. “Not only in our mates, and our children born and our children married, but in our grandchildren, too.”

  “We have, Mattie. Our town has grown from six to nine, and now to over seven hundred.” Jeremy nodded. “And when we gather like this, I feel the ones no longer here with us again—not just Adam and Warren and Amanda, Caleb and Joshua and Sarah. I feel Terrence and Jeremy and Phyllis, too. This sanctuary our parents and their friends founded, and built, and this legacy they left us lives on in us all. And when one of us is threatened, then all of us are threatened.”

  “Well said, Dad.” Nick nodded. “So the question is, do we pay off this little pissant who’s threatening us, since it seems a few thousand dollars will do it? We can certainly afford it and never even miss the cash.”

  “What’s your opinion, Samantha?” Dalton Jessop asked.

  Samantha didn’t have to think twice. It really wasn’t about the money. It was the principle of the thing. Both Nolan and Robbins were parasites and didn’t deserve one penny of Kendall money. “I think you should tell them both to go to hell. In legalese, of course.”

  “That,” Madeline said, “is the Benedict way.”

  “And the way Kendalls do things,” Miranda said.

  “Jessops are like that, too,” Chelsea confirmed.

  Then all three women looked at Martin. “Are we all in agreement, then?” he asked.

  Every head nodded. Samantha did, too, even though she didn’t officially get a vote.

  “Good.” Nick rubbed his hands together. “Let’s get to it, then. This is going to be fun.”

  * * * *

  They stepped out of the house, and onto the back deck. Plans had been set in motion, and Martin had called Samantha’s father to get his recommendation on the best attorney for the job. Now they
just had to wait and see what happened next.

  Beyond the house, to the east, pastureland spread out as far as the eye could see. The only structure visible was the barn—the very barn that Warren Jessop and Adam Kendall had built when they built this house. Warren had loved the law and he had loved farming. Preston wished he’d known the man, wished he’d had the chance as an adult to sit and talk with him, see what he thought of things.

  In his opinion that great-grandfather’s legal mind had been sadly underrated by his peers.

  Preston wished he could introduce his woman to him—hell, he’d loved to introduce her to all of them.

  He could remember Amanda and Sarah, of course. He was about eight when his great-grandmother Amanda died, and close to ten when Sarah had passed away. To him they’d seemed as old as time, but never too busy to give a hug, or a word of encouragement.

  Great-grandmother Amanda always had wrapped candies at hand to give to great-grandsons.

  The woman beside him yawned and stretched, and he was reminded of the activities they’d shared in the night.

  They’d been greedy pigs with her and not allowed her much sleep. They would have to put their baser instincts on hold and show her how well they could pamper her tonight.

  “So what did you think of your first meeting of the Lusty Town Trust?” Preston picked up Samantha’s hand and brought it to his lips. He’d wanted to touch her all morning, and not only in a sexual way.

  He hadn’t heard both sides of the conversation with her father, of course. But he’d been able to guess at what Judge Kincaid had had to say—or perhaps how he’d tried to get the witness—his daughter—to incriminate herself.

  He’d wanted to scoop her up and set her in his lap and just hold her. He’d looked at each of his brothers and known they felt the same way.

  Yet despite that, he really couldn’t blame her father one bit for wanting to find out what was happening in his daughter’s life. It didn’t take a lot of imagination on his part to put himself in the man’s place.