She knew their hearts and knew the depth of their dedication to their patients.
“How do you do, Mrs. Jessop? I do believe they’re still in the OR, but I’ll just check with the reception nurse in the surgical department.”
The woman made a quick call then hung up the phone. “Becky says they’re still in surgery. I can direct you to the waiting room, and she’ll let your husband know you’re there when the procedure’s complete.”
“Thank you.”
The directions were simple, and within a few minutes, Pamela had located the surgical waiting room, which was on the second floor. Becky, it turned out, had been waiting for her. “The nurse just let me know a few moments ago that they expect the surgery to be finished within the hour.”
Pamela knew she looked horrified. “I hope I didn’t cause any extra work for anyone!”
“Oh, no, ma’am. It’s standard practice for the team to let me know when they’re getting close to the end of the procedure so I can call ahead to the ICU and the staff can be alerted and ready to receive the patient.”
That was how things were done at Johns Hopkins, too. “Oh. Oh, good. I…well, we haven’t been married very long, and I know this was an unexpected situation for him. I just wanted to be here for my husband.” She’d almost made that plural but was able to stop herself at the last moment. Pamela would have to be careful. This wasn’t Lusty.
“We haven’t seen Dr. Jessop around here much in the last several months. I’ll have to offer him my congratulations when I…oh. Um, which Dr. Jessop…” Becky’s face colored, and Pamela couldn’t hold back a chuckle.
“I’m married to Adam.” That was nothing but the truth. “I understand, in this instance, that James is also in the operating room with him.”
“He is.” Becky smiled. “I’ll congratulate him—and you, as well.”
Becky’s phone rang.
“I’ll get out of your way, then. Thank you, Becky, for your help. And the congratulations.”
Pamela walked across the hall to the waiting room—identifiable by the sign above the door. The room was not very large, with a sofa at the end of the room, a smaller one against the long wall, and a few of what she considered standard waiting room chairs offering additional seating.
A middle-aged couple sat on the small sofa, shoulders close, hands clasped. Pamela could tell the woman had been crying, because she was looking right at her.
The man cleared his throat. “We didn’t mean to eavesdrop. You’re Dr. Jessop’s wife?”
“I am.” Because she’d had that brief conversation with James, she guessed who these people might be.
“I’m Harry Pender, and this is my wife, Linda. Your husband and his brother…” The sight of the man, clearly emotional, touched Pamela’s heart.
Mrs. Pender took up where her husband left off. “God sent them. That tractor was just at that tipping point, and your man came barreling down Dad’s driveway like a race car driver. We don’t know how things will be in the end, but those two men gave our Tommy a fighting chance.”
“I’m not surprised that, seeing what was about to happen, they would rush to help. They have good hearts. I’m so sorry your son was injured. Do you know anything at all?”
“Just that they’re nearly done. It’s been a few hours, so the fact that—well, that he’s still alive? We’ve been praying since we got here.”
“Can I get you anything?”
“No, thank you,” Mrs. Pender said. “We’ll see to ourselves once we see our Tommy.”
“Darn kid never listens,” Mr. Pender said. “Dad told him you can’t pull a tree stump out with a tractor and a chain.” He shook his head. “My older brother stayed on the farm, but I’m an accountant, and we live in Dallas. Linda and Tommy were visiting for a few days. Joey—that’s my brother—was off getting supplies. Near as we can tell, Tommy overheard Dad complaining about that stump and thought he knew how to get the job done.”
“I was raised on a dairy farm in Maryland. I think tree stumps are a universal problem.”
“When I saw that tractor go over…” Mrs. Pender stopped. “Worst moment of my life.”
“Adam is a gifted surgeon. He wouldn’t say that, but I’ve heard his colleagues talk. The board of directors at Johns Hopkins, in Baltimore, wanted both Adam and James to sign on after their specialized residencies were done, but they wanted to come home and take over their father’s practice instead.”
“Thank God they did,” Mrs. Pender said.
Pamela sat companionably with the couple, moments of silence interspersed with small talk.
She heard steps in the hall and looked up as Adam entered the waiting area. He seemed surprised—and pleased—to see her.
She nodded but remained sitting so he could go and speak to the Penders, who’d surged to their feet at his appearance. He looked at Pamela again briefly then turned to face them.
“How’s Tommy, Dr. Jessop? It’s okay for you to speak in front of your missus. We don’t mind,” Mr. Pender said.
“Thank you. Tommy came through the surgery well and is in recovery. He had a ruptured spleen, which we’ve removed, and a very deep gash on his right leg. Our main concern with his leg was possible nerve and muscle damage. They’ll watch him carefully over the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours to be certain that blood is flowing well through the leg…”
Pamela listened to the tone in Adam’s voice, admiring the way he was able to communicate clearly and convey confidence. While he was speaking, Pamela felt James at the doorway. His gaze was on her, and when she met it, the emotions—love and gratitude—were right there in his eyes.
“Thank you, Dr. Jessop.” Linda Pender looked over at James. “Thank you both, more than we can ever say.”
Becky came into the waiting room and offered to take the Penders to the recovery room so they could see their son. The moment they left, Adam sighed.
“Come here, baby.”
Pamela walked into his arms and wrapped hers around him. Moments later, James stepped up and braced her back. She felt surrounded and cocooned, and it was the best feeling in the world.
“You’re making me feel good, when I came here to do that for the two of you.”
“You have.” Adam stepped back and tilted her face up, allowing her to meet his gaze. “You never did that, back in Baltimore. You were always there for us afterward, when we would come to you. How did you know we needed you now?”
“Because this wasn’t business as usual. This was personal for the both of you.”
“Don’t ever doubt that you get us, sweetheart,” James said. “And we sure as hell won’t, either—not ever again.”
“Mom dropped me off so I could drive you home. And I brought a thermos of coffee. Are you ready to leave?”
“We are,” Adam said. “We finished the paperwork before we left the OR. Jon Anderson was our anesthesiologist, and Craig Crenshaw came into the surgery near the end, as an observer. Since he’s on staff here, he’ll monitor Tommy. He’s a gifted surgeon in his own right and can take over for us from here.”
They all heard the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. James stepped back, a movement he made almost automatically and seemingly without thought. But that step back hurt Pamela’s heart. It hurt her that he had to do that because they weren’t home. It hurt her that she had to restrain herself from showing James affection in public. Oh, not that she’d want to stand around necking with him on a street corner. She wouldn’t do that in public with either of her men under any circumstance.
Adam relieved her of the thermos and then held her right hand. Once they were outside, heading toward the car, she deliberately reached for James’s hand, too.
“I know, sweetheart,” he said. “It’ll take some time for us to get used to how to behave in public.”
“I hate it. I hate that I can’t just show what’s in my heart.”
Adam chuckled. “You, us, and everyone else in the families. But we do have Lusty,
and outward displays—or a lack of them—don’t define us or our relationship.”
“No, they don’t.” Pamela sighed. They reached the car, and she held out her hand.
“Sweetheart, I can drive,” James said. “You can snuggle with Adam in the back seat.”
“No, darling. I’ll drive. You two can sip coffee and decompress while I get us home.” She stepped toward the driver’s door. “You’re just going to have to let me take care of you in my own way when I think it’s necessary.”
Her men looked at each other. “Fair enough,” Adam said. He handed over the keys and then nodded toward the front of the car. “I’m going to have a bit of this coffee and close my eyes in the back seat.” Then he turned to James. “Please keep our wife company.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice,” James said.
Pamela settled behind the steering wheel. I won that round. As she started the car, she understood, probably for the first time, that marriage was as much a balancing act as it was anything else.
* * * *
James was used to giving his brother the space he needed. Adam had always been the more serious between them and also, in some ways, the more isolated. Over the years the family had learned to just let him be when he was troubled about something. Adam lived in his head, probably more than any man he knew.
The unexpected turn their day had taken hit him as they neared Lusty. There’d been precious little time to prepare, mentally, for surgery. They’d arrived at the hospital to discover they were short-staffed. Just as well, because he’d known Adam was completely invested in their young patient and would have fought for the right to operate.
The car slowed, and James blinked. Then they were pulling into the driveway of home. “Hell, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to doze off on you.”
“I’m very glad you did.” Pamela’s sweet smile smoothed everything.
Once inside, she looked at them. “I’ve got a hearty bean soup on the stove that will heat in moments. Come and have a bite to eat.”
Watching Pamela in nurturing mode was a wonder. The table was already set, and all they had to do was sit down and spoon the savory soup of pinto beans and tomatoes. There was a loaf of freshly made cornbread to go with it.
“This is good, baby,” Adam said. “Just the right size of supper for me tonight.”
She reached over and caressed his hand. “I’d already figured out that when you had a busy day, your appetite was smaller.”
He shook his head. To James, Adam’s smile looked sheepish. “Here we were wondering, all those weeks, if we could court you so that you would love us, and you were already tuned into us and doing just that—loving us.”
“The past doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is I love you both. And loving you, sir, I know that, right now, you need your bed. Let’s go, Dr. Jessop.”
James began to tidy the kitchen while Pamela led Adam toward the stairs. Knowing his brother, James acknowledged that Pamela got it exactly right. If they’d been on their own after today’s surprises, Adam would have headed for the stairs the moment he got in the door. He’d likely have fallen face first onto his bed, fully clothed except for his shoes, and been asleep in seconds.
James had just finished off giving the counter a final wipe when he heard Pamela’s step in the hall. He turned and, seeing the look on her face, tossed aside the dish rag and opened his arms.
He snuggled her in tight and laid his face on the top of her head. “He’s all right, sweetheart. He’s always been like that.”
“I think I knew that. I remember one time when we were going to go out to supper, but then Adam had that car crash victim in the ER. He took him into surgery, and we had to reschedule our date.”
James smiled. It had been a date in their minds, too. “He’ll be fine by morning.”
Pamela took a tiny step back and looked up at him. “Can you tell me about it? I spent some time talking with the Penders. They were nice people—focused on their son and grateful for the miraculous appearance of two doctors when they’d needed them most.”
“Mr. Pender was in Dallas, I believe, when the accident happened. Linda rode with us to the hospital.”
“Come and sit with me for a while. Do you want anything?”
“Let’s have some hot tea. Then we can relax.”
It pleased him that he’d paid enough attention he knew she liked a cup, sometimes, in the evening. It didn’t take long to brew a pot. She’d chosen orange pekoe. Judging from the selection she had in the cupboard, he wondered if she’d picked that because it was the only kind he knew.
Before long, they were snuggled together on the sofa. This was the moment he needed, to sit in his home with his wife. No one could convince him she wasn’t his wife, despite not having had a commitment ceremony.
“You just happened to be at the right place at the right time? Did they wave you down?”
“No. It was worse than that, at least for us. We saw what that fool kid, Tommy, was trying to do, and we knew it was going to end badly. We just couldn’t get there fast enough to stop him. Adam laid on the horn as we approached, hoping that would get the person on the tractor to stop. But everyone ignored the damn horn, and then it was too late.”
James told her everything, sparing none of his emotions as he’d watched that tractor go over.
“Adam has far more experience with trauma, and I’m not ashamed to say he has a cooler head in the moment than I do.”
“I’m sure the way the two of you seem to be able to almost read each other’s minds helped today. I don’t have to have been there to know that Tommy’s survival depended as much on you as on Adam.”
“Adam and I make a good team,” James said. “You’re a part of that team now, too, Mrs. Jessop. We both really needed you tonight—and there you were.”
“That’s what I want, more than anything. To be a part of your team, and to be there for you when you need me, just as I love that you’re there for me when I need you.”
His arm around her, her head on his shoulder, James knew he held the strongest—and the best—woman he’d ever known. He wouldn’t utter a single complaint, going forward, about waiting until Thanksgiving for their commitment ceremony.
And he damn sure would be giving thanks for her, every day, for the rest of his life.
Chapter Seventeen
“The family is getting bigger,” Grandmother Chelsea said. “And is bound to keep doing so for some time. Samantha said something not long ago, and the six of us have been talking it over, ever since.” Pamela knew Grandmother meant herself, her husbands, and Mattie and her husbands. “It might just be time to choose a handful of the family to serve as the active Town Trust.”
“We thought, that way, the meetings could happen once a month,” Grandma Mattie said, “and would be easier to accommodate in size and scope. And since we often have meetings with only a few of us in attendance anyway, it would just be a matter of formalizing what we’re already doing.
“We’ll be giving it a distinct structure, and perhaps we’ll also outline rules and procedures, and such,” Grandpa Charlie said.
“It’s an idea that’s long overdue.” Grandpa Dalton looked around the table. “We could set a specific term—say, two years—and have some members from each generation serving together each term.”
“Basically, you’re outlining what will be, for all intents and purposes, our town council. For that reason, I think we should appoint someone to be the official head of the Town Trust,” Martin said. “Like a chief executive officer. It’s all well and good that, as the lawyer of record for the trust, I be the one to sign whatever documents we need signed. But I believe it would just be better form if I was one of two people signing on behalf of us all.”
“I think Grandmother Chelsea is the ideal person for that position,” Maria said.
“Thank you, daughter, but I don’t have as keen a business mind as Mattie does. I think she’d be the best candidate for the position.”<
br />
Pamela didn’t wonder that Grandmother Chelsea suggested Grandmother Mattie instead of one of her own two husbands, or even Mattie’s. Loving really is a verb. This was Grandmother Chelsea’s way of following in the footsteps of her mother and mother-in-law.
“We’ll set up a full meeting, then, and take a vote.” Martin Kendall made a note and then looked around the table.
This was the first time Pamela had ever attended a meeting of the Town Trust. She hadn’t known until that morning that, having married into the family, she was automatically a member and had a vote.
“Now that we’ve got that settled, I’d like to focus on the situation with regard to those two con men, Fred Thomas and Gary Morris.” Grandmother Chelsea’s voice was strong and clear and brooked no nonsense.
Pamela blinked because she hadn’t known the woman was going to bring that matter up. Until that moment, she’d been under the impression that the entire enterprise of investigating and then setting a trap for the men was a situation only the women of the family were actively involved in.
“I imagine your friends have been making progress baiting their trap?” Nick Kendall asked.
“Indeed, they have.” Chelsea Benedict Jessop-Kendall grinned, but it wasn’t her sweet smile.
Grandmother Chelsea looked about as formidable as Pamela had ever seen her. She might not think she has a head for business, but she certainly is a natural leader.
“But first, I need to bring some of you up to date with the most recent report sent to us by Mr. Watson.”
“There’s been a new report?” Maria asked.
“There has. You’re all aware of the deep background information Mr. Watson already sent to us on the pair. Both men, as boys, ended up in the same orphanage. That’s where they met.”
“The new information the detective forwarded,” Mattie said, “has given us a great deal of pause. Mr. Watson believes they began their current con—he referred to it as a grift—about twelve years ago. Immediately following their first success, they each donated a fair bit of money to what Mr. Watson believes are very personal causes. Mr. Thomas regularly sends funds to an outreach program for unwed mothers, and Mr. Morris donates to a group working with the victims of drug and alcohol abuse. Both programs are in New York City.”
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