Labor Day in Lusty, Texas [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Menage Everlasting)

by Cara Covington

  Carson laughed. Their mother would be subtle in trying to discover how things were going between the three of them. Hmm. Maybe it would be a good idea to let Caleb handle that little thing this weekend. He was, after all, the oldest among them.

  “Yeah, I know she will.” He felt his smile slip. He could be jocular when he had to be. This felt far too serious to treat lightly. “I used to think they were handing us a line—the dads, that is—when they talked about knowing as soon as they set eyes on Mother that she was theirs.”

  “It’s a humbling experience, isn’t it? When you look up and the Lord whispers in your ear, ‘there she is, son.’”

  “Humbling and hopeful.” Carson sighed. “So, unless she insists, we’ll go home next weekend. This one…” He let the sentence end. There was no sense in telling his oldest brother exactly what he was hoping he, Michael, and Abigail would get up to this weekend. Some things were meant to be private, even among the siblings of Lusty, Texas.

  “I completely understand. Perhaps I’ll tell Mother that you planned to take her shopping on Saturday.”

  “Well, now, that wouldn’t be a lie. We do plan to do that very thing.”

  “There you go. All right, brother, you get back to work, and so will I. As soon as I learn something, I’ll let you know. It could be a few days, so in the meantime, please be careful.”

  “Careful just became my middle name. Thanks, Caleb. I really appreciate it.”

  “You’re family.” The click on the other end of the line told Carson his brother had disconnected. He set the receiver back into its cradle. Then he picked it up again and called Michael at the bookstore. He knew he and Abigail planned to stay there until four. He himself wouldn’t be free to leave the office until after five. Tonight, Abby planned to cook for them, and he was looking forward to that—to the three of them enjoying the first of what he hoped would be a lifetime of home-cooked suppers together. He’d gladly do his share of the cooking, too. He was a man of Lusty, Texas, raised to understand that the only thing that was truly “woman’s work” was giving birth.

  The image of Abigail, her belly swollen with their child, gave Carson an immediate hard-on. Thankfully he had time before he had to get up from his desk so his physical response could simmer down some.

  Michael answered the phone on the second ring. “Benedict’s Books.”

  “I like the name, brother. Is Abby close by?”

  “She’s happily buried in the book stacks. I had a look after you left. She’s made good progress already.”

  That didn’t surprise Carson. Abigail would focus on any task she undertook. “Any luck with locating a security company?”

  “The best I could do was one that would be out first-thing Monday morning.” Michael sounded exasperated.

  “That’s what I figured, as it’s already Thursday. Caleb’s going to turn over some rocks for us, get the lowdown on both Farnsworth and Arbuckle. Just wanted you to know that.”

  “You can be sure I’ll take very good care of our woman, Carson.”

  “We both will. And along those lines, I was thinking we could maybe convince Abby to stay in town this weekend.”

  Carson could hear his brother’s smile in his words. “I think that’s a wonderful idea, Carson. We’ll wine her and dine her and bed her…we’ll even take her shopping.”

  “That’s a damn fine plan.” Carson hung up, confident that he and his brother were definitely on the same page when it came to wooing, and winning, the irresistible Abigail Parker.

  * * * *

  Abigail had always loved cooking, but no meal had ever given her the pleasure that preparing this meal had done. It was simple Texas fare—chicken-fried steak and cream gravy. She’d used Maude’s recipe, one she’d always loved. Abigail selected mashed potatoes as the main side dish—she loved cream gravy on mashed potatoes—and since they’d picked up some fresh corn earlier, she served that, too.

  Both men offered to help her in the preparations. She appreciated that and couldn’t explain why it was she wanted to prepare this meal all by herself. She did allow them to set the table.

  It pleased her when they joined her in the kitchen before the food was totally ready, claiming the aroma had drawn them to it, and her.

  They’d carried everything into the dining room for her, where they then had insisted she sit at the “head” of the table. She liked that arrangement, because she was, essentially, between them.

  “This is very good, sweetheart.” Michael leaned over and kissed her left cheek. “Thank you for going to the trouble.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “The best I’ve ever tasted,” Carson agreed. He, too, kissed her, and Abigail felt something essentially female stir within her.

  As the meal progressed around small talk, she wondered if something was up between the men. She got the sense that sometimes they could communicate with each other with just a look.

  “So, we were thinking that it would be nice if we took you shopping on Saturday and then out to dinner and maybe a movie Saturday night. There’s this wonderful restaurant, with five-star cuisine, that we really want to treat you to.” Carson met her gaze. Abigail was struck by the hopeful expression he wore.

  “We know you enjoy Lusty, but we thought, well, maybe this weekend it could just be the three of us.” Michael also looked hopeful. “We can go to Lusty next weekend, if you like.”

  Ah, that was it. They knew how much she enjoyed the Big House and the sense of family she’d found right there in their hometown. As well, when they’d invited her to Houston, they’d assured her it wouldn’t be permanent, that she could return to Lusty whenever she wanted.

  Yes, she really liked everyone she’d met there, but the reason thoughts of Lusty would forever warm her heart was because of the two men sitting with her around this dining room table. She’d gone to Lusty looking for her past…and had, perhaps, found her future, as well.

  “It is a long distance to drive for just a couple of days,” Abigail said. She looked down at her plate and then met first Carson’s and then Michael’s gaze. “I’m fine with staying here, just the three of us, for the weekend. But you don’t have to go to the expense of taking me out to a fancy restaurant. I’m happy simply being with you both.” Was that too much? She hadn’t dated extensively, but she’d listened to the women at the firm where she’d worked and, earlier, at college. It seemed there were often games that women played—and men, too—games she didn’t understand and didn’t even know if she wanted to. She knew she may have just opened herself up to them more than others would consider wise, but she couldn’t—no, she wouldn’t—take it back. She didn’t want to play games.

  This, whatever it was between them, was far too important for games.

  Carson and Michael looked at each other for a long moment. Then Carson reached for her right hand and brought it to his lips. “Baby, money isn’t something we have to worry about.”

  She tilted her head and met his gaze. “Me, neither. I never knew how much my mother and grandmother had set aside until my mother died and I inherited it all. I must say it gave me quite a shock because, while I’d never been in want, we did tend to live frugally. I think, now, that Maude’s decision to raise mother that way, and mother to, in turn, raise me that way was very wise. I intend to continue to live frugally, even if I’m what could be considered financially very well off now.”

  Carson got a twinkle in his eye, and his grin looked downright playful.

  “You might as well tell her, brother,” Michael said. “In the interests of full disclosure, of course. And for when we do go out and she gets a load of the way we’re sometimes treated.”

  “Tell me what?” She looked from one brother to the other, trying to figure out what was so funny.

  “We’re what could be considered filthy, stinkin’ rich.” Carson winked as he said that. “Nearly every member born into the families seems able to do one thing really well, and that’s make money.”

&
nbsp; Abigail frowned. “So…you’re millionaires?” She wasn’t quite that well off, though she was close.

  “Billionaires,” Michael said that with a grin then dug back into his supper.

  Billionaires? Nothing she’d seen in Lusty had hinted at that kind of wealth. Not a single person she’d met had the air of the spoiled elite class, and working in that law firm in Abilene, she’d seen up close and personal just what that looked like. Abigail knew her mouth hung open, but she honestly didn’t know what to say.

  “And, yes, we know that our money doesn’t matter to you, not one bit.” Carson’s gaze turned serious. He reached out and stroked the side of her face. “We just didn’t want you worrying about the nickels and dimes—overmuch. The truth is, Abby, we both really want to pamper you, and having the means simply allows us to do what we really want to do.”

  Abigail wondered if she wasn’t finally beginning to understand men—at least, these men. She’d caught, quite clearly, the way they’d formed a barrier between her and that Neil Farnsworth character, earlier. She knew that Michael had contracted a security company to make the bookstore more secure. And she knew both Carson and Michael considered it their job to protect her. From her studies of societies in college, she understood that men and women had individual but, in her mind equal, roles to play. She’d always believed the sexes to be completely equal. The men would protect and provide for the physical comfort and security of the women, and the women, in turn, would care for and nurture men’s emotional and spiritual well-being. To fight them on this issue would be silly. The money wasn’t money. It was their means of doing what they considered their duty.

  Abigail gave them both a brilliant smile. “Well, all right, then. I’ll look forward to steak and lobster on Saturday.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  They were so darned sneaky, those two Benedicts, she completely missed it and didn’t know what they’d done until they arrived at the restaurant that evening for dinner.

  Saturday morning found the three of them on their way to Joske’s, a popular department store in Houston and one that Kate had even mentioned to her, as had both Carson and Michael.

  She’d thought at the time that it was a wise mother who ensured her sons knew her favorite stores. Abigail recalled the jam-making session and time spent talking with Bernice. She’d enjoyed getting to know the woman who was nearly the same age as she was and married to Carson and Michael’s brothers, Caleb and Jonathan. Bernice had told her how she’d met Caleb when he’d gone to New York City on Texas Ranger business. He’d made a point of stopping in at Macy’s to buy his mother a gift—the same Macy’s where Bernice worked as a sales clerk in the women’s fashion and accessories department. That had been just three years before. Abigail considered the three of them—Bernice, Caleb, and Jonathan—to still be on their honeymoon. Their love was such a beautiful thing to behold.

  Abigail couldn’t have said if she’d particularly believed in love before she’d arrived in Lusty, but she sure believed in it now.

  As she and the brothers Benedict toured Joske’s, and then Foley’s, when she wasn’t looking through racks of dresses, blouses, skirts, and slacks, Carson held her hand. He had a way of making her feel cherished simply by rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. Once Abigail understood that they really were happy to accompany her, she allowed herself to look at, well, at everything. She liked to see pretty things, and so she also browsed through music boxes and earrings, fragrances and footwear, furniture and linens and housewares. In short, just about everything there was to see in those stores, she saw.

  There was something very alluring about looking at gems in their gold and silver settings within the glass display units each of these stores employed.

  “They all look very pretty, don’t they? So sparkly and shiny, just like expensive gems. Do you suppose it’s something to do with the kind of lights in these cases that make them all shine so?” She’d been looking down at a beautiful brooch in the shape of a fairy sprite, wings aflutter and her arms stretched out in a graceful, almost benevolent gesture.

  Abigail Parker, you are more than a little whimsical sometimes. It pleased Abigail enormously that it hadn’t been her mother’s voice in her head but her own. She could be whimsical when the occasion called for it and knew, without doubt, there was nothing wrong with that. She looked up and caught a look between the men she didn’t understand.

  “I never thought about it, but you could be right.” Carson kissed her hand, and she focused on him. The heat in his gaze made every thought go right out of her head. Then his smile turned affectionate, and her thoughts cleared.

  Amazing.

  “I suppose their presentation is a facet of their marketing style,” he said. “Did you notice how those diamond necklaces in that first case were displayed on black velvet display pedestals? Another color you’ll often see beneath precious gems is royal blue. Both colors contrast with the shimmer of the stones, making them appear to shine brighter. These are also precious and semi-precious stones.” He indicated the items in the case before them, including that fairy sprite. “You have emeralds and rubies, sapphires and opals. The yellow stones are amber, and the pink can be topaz or might even be pink diamonds. And they’re placed together so that the colors contrast.”

  “I had noticed the black!” She smiled at him. “I suppose the goal of the retailer is to sell, so it makes perfect sense that they use our senses to do that.”

  She’d been enjoying the morning and had even bought a few items—a couple of outfits and a new pair of slippers. She had told the men “no” when they’d wanted to pay for her purchases. She was quite able to pay her own way, thank you very much. Dinner tonight, and the movie, if they could all three of them agree on which one to see, now that was a different matter. That was a date, and she was fine with the men paying for a date. That was traditional. Abigail nearly giggled out loud. There would be nothing traditional about her going on a date with two men.

  As they strolled passed umbrellas and accessories, knickknacks and whatnots, she thought about her grandmother, Maude. And because she thought of the woman who was, in essence, a cousin to these men, she shared.

  “Maude didn’t go window shopping, and she discouraged me from doing so, as well.” Abigail sighed. “She said there were too many items to tease a woman’s senses, and that having to deny one’s self all the time could become an unwelcome stress in life. ‘Best not hope for what you can’t ever have.’ That was her motto more often than not. I, on the other hand, always loved the activity of window shopping. I tended to go when I had free time and rarely mentioned my excursions to either her or Mother once I understood they didn’t approve.” Then she shrugged. “An odd memory to have now.”

  “It might seem an odd memory to you, but it must be an important one, so thank you for sharing it.” Michael briefly touched her shoulder. When she met his gaze, she could see he wanted to give her a hug. She wanted to give him one, too. “Seems to me the women in your life tended to want to curb your creative energy and freedom of expression a great deal.”

  Here was the one drawback to going out in polite society with the two men she was beginning to fall in love with. She couldn’t be as free with her affections with both of them as she really wanted to be.

  She reached down and squeezed Michael’s hand, and in that moment, she didn’t care who saw it.

  “I never really knew any different, growing up. I had a good childhood, Michael. Looking back, it’s mostly good memories I recall. It’s only now—now when I’m discovering a different way of life and I suppose now that I’m looking at my grandmother and mother as women and not as authority figures—that I understand what I didn’t have then. But I’m not going to dwell on that, not one little bit. Because here I am, free to do whatever I choose to do—and in the company of the two most wonderful men I’ve ever known.”

  Michael looked up at Carson. She sensed that man nodding, could just make it out in her peripheral vis
ion.

  Michael stepped closer and placed a sweet kiss on her lips. “You’re a remarkable woman, Abigail Parker. Do you know that?”

  She felt her cheeks heat and wanted to deny such a grand compliment. Instead, she gave in and hugged him. “Thank you, Michael. I’m very glad you think I am.”

  Back at the apartment, Abigail melted when her men coaxed her into the shower and then into a very enjoyable couple of hours of slow, tender lovemaking. She dozed off between them, sated and at peace.

  * * * *

  Brenner’s steak house was beautiful, inside and out. She understood why the men had told her about being wealthy. They were greeted at the door as if they were visiting royalty. Abigail was greatly reassured by their reactions. Carson seemed not to notice the fawning, and Michael appeared slightly embarrassed by it.

  She supposed that Carson, being a titan of business, was used to this kind of treatment. Michael, a pillar of academia, was not. Their personalities are reflected by their choice of career. Abigail wondered about the fact that they were very different men except in the way her body, heart, and soul reacted to them.

  They were escorted to a table set off from the rest, with a lovely view of the gardens. It wasn’t until Carson held her chair and she began to sit that she noticed a napkin placed over something on her plate.

  Abigail looked from Carson to Michael, not quite knowing what to think. Both men were smiling at her eagerly. They reminded her of a picture she’d once seen of two boys anxious before a sparkling tree on Christmas Day.

  “Come on, sweetheart,” Carson said. “Take a look.”

  She lifted the napkin to find a small wrapped box. Unused to receiving gifts, she took a moment to appreciate the pretty paper and the bow. Finally, when she thought they both might jump out of their skin, she opened their gift.

  And found herself blinking back tears as that little fairy brooch looked up at her. She knew it was only her misty gaze that made it appear the wee sprite winked as her wings fluttered.