A Stirring from Salem (5 page)

Jackson didn’t need long to realize that Abby’s favorite gastro-pub was not the best place to try to extricate himself from his self-inflicted predicament. As they walked into the busy restaurant, he realized they knew a number of people nursing Bloody Marys with their brunch, and the entire staff knew Abby as if she were their sister.

Jackson didn’t want to hurt her. He knew the pain of being dumped. It had only happened once, but the memory still lingered.

“Kenny,” Abby said to the busy waiter, who lit up when he saw her.

“Right on time for your reservation,” he lied as he escorted them to the only open table.

Abby didn’t need reservations most anywhere. And not because of the guests she did or didn’t bring into the restaurant—it was because of the way she cared about the staff as people.

“How was your New Year?” she asked as she and Jackson were seated near the window overlooking the street.

“Not as good as yours, I’d say,” Kenny commented as she flicked the fingers on her left hand. “How many carats? And I assume it’s from you,” he said wide-eyed as he handed Jackson a menu.

“Four…and yes,” Jackson answered with a wan smile.

“Ramos Fizz?” Kenny asked Abby, knowing her favorite drink.

“Absolutely,” she said, smiling. “Are you still serving breakfast?”

“Until noon on holidays, and always for you.” Kenny winked. “She’s a favorite of ours, you know,” he said to Jackson. “And not just because she’s a great tipper.”

Abby was known for her generosity. She felt good service deserved to be recognized.

“A Negroni for my future husband?” Abby asked.

“Exactly,” Jackson said, a bit startled.

“And kippers and eggs?” she smiled. “Poached easy?”

“Exactly,” Jackson repeated.

“Eggs Benedict Royale for me, Kenny,” she added. “And how’s Daisy?”

“She has a clean bill of health, thanks for asking.”

Kenny’s Jack Russell terrier had recently had a suspicious lump removed, and Kenny had been a wreck over it.

“You’ve got a good one here, Jackson,” Kenny said as he left to put in their order.

“He likes you,” Jackson said, studying the face he’d come to know so well.

“Christmas was tough for him with his dad gone,” Abby said. “Maybe I shouldn’t have brought that up.”

“I doubt his situation was anything like ours,” Jackson sighed. “But I think we held it together pretty well.”

Jackson, Chance, and Charley had bonded more strongly than ever that Christmas, following the death of their parents. It was the three of them against the world, and the boys had tried to keep family traditions intact, especially for Charley. Though both brothers had eschewed their religious upbringing, they went to St. Paul’s Christmas Eve festal carol service with their sister. The three then spent the night at Jackson’s and exchanged gifts in their pj’s on Christmas morning.

“You know you can talk to me about anything,” Abby offered. “Especially now,” she continued, indicating the exquisitely cut ring. “You realize it fits perfectly.”

“Um-hmm,” Jackson nodded.

“I promise you I will do everything in my power to make you happy, Jackson. I’ve never felt this loved.”

The look in her eyes told him that was true. And to his utter and total surprise, he’d never felt this loved, either.

“One Ramos Fizz and a Negroni,” Kenny said, interrupting the moment as he set the drinks in front of them.

“Thanks.” Abby smiled warmly and lifted her glass. “To us being the most envied couple in town.”

Jackson slowly lifted his tumbler and clinked her frothy libation. He was getting more confused by the minute. He was used to women coming in and out of his life. Yet since his parents died, Abby had been there for him every minute. Had he been so absorbed with his own problems that he had neglected to see just how special she was? And had he come to depend on her warmth and compassion more than he’d expected to?

Abby took a long sip from her glass as she slipped off her sheepskin boot.

Jackson reacted, startled as Abby ran her bare foot up his pant leg and rested it in his lap. He gasped and his eyes widened.

“How hungry are we?” Abby asked with just the right hint of seduction in her voice.

Jackson thrust out his hand as Kenny passed their table. “Could we get our order to go?”

***

The remains of their brunch sat on the table next to the bed as Abby rolled off Jackson. They’d had nearly two hours of wild sex, and both were giddy and exhausted.

Suddenly they heard a sound. “Well, hello, Abby,” Chance said from the open doorway to Jackson’s bedroom. He was carrying two large bags from Harrods. “Lovely to see you.”

“You, too,” Abby murmured, mortified, as she pulled the covers over her head.

Chance could see his mother’s diamond still on her ring finger.

“Charley?” Jackson asked.

“Right here, big brother,” Charley answered as she passed behind Chance. “Things going well?”

“Actually,” Jackson admitted, confused about it himself, “they couldn’t be better.”

“Sis is leaving in less than two hours,” Chance offered, giving his brother a puzzled look. “You two might want to come up for air.”

Chance pulled the bedroom door closed and followed Charley into her beautifully appointed bedroom looking across to Princes Gate, the massive complex that was once home to American ambassadors, including Joseph Kennedy.

“Abby’s still wearing the ring,” Chance said with a lilt in his voice.

“This time, getting it back might not be so easy,” Charley offered. “Maybe it’s best I’ll be out of their hair for a while.”

“How long will you be gone?” Chance asked as he started to help her pack.

Charley stammered, “I’m not really sure.”

“No, really, how long will you be gone?” he repeated as he emptied the Harrods bag.

“I didn’t ask.”

Chance was dumbfounded. “You didn’t ask?”

“It all happened so fast. And the photographer is so well respected that I just said yes. I have a passport and the time, and having this on my CV…well, I couldn’t say anything else.”

“You didn’t ask.” Charley had never been the impulsive type, so Chance was stunned at her lack of information. But all three of the Gaines siblings had been thrown off their pins by their father’s betrayal. And though they seldom discussed it, they were more protective of each other than ever.

“You’re going halfway around the world—” he cautioned.

“Halfway down the world,” she interrupted. “But I need this, Chance, maybe the way we all need change right now. I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “Really.”

The moment was broken as Jackson and a flushed Abby entered. She was now in her skinny jeans and one of Jackson’s shirts.

“Hey,” Abby said.

“Hey,” Charley answered.

“I guess you heard,” Abby offered.

“I did. Well, we both did,” Charley replied, trying to sound as positive as she could under the circumstances.

“I will always take the best care of your mother’s ring. I hope you know that,” Abby said with genuine warmth.

“We have no doubt,” Chance replied, trying to sound as positive as
he
could under the circumstances.

“I’ve always wanted a sister, haven’t you?” Abby directed that to Charley.

“I—have,” Charley answered.

“Now you’ll have me and one of my best friends,” Abby said, shaking her head in disbelief. “Wow. Will this make me Belle’s sister-in-law, too?”

Charley blanched. While Belle Black Brady had been revealed to be Charley’s biological sister, Charley still found it hard to think of her as family.

“It’s all a bit confusing,” Charley said as she looked to her brother.

“Can I tell her myself about this, or do you want to?” Abby asked.

“What do you think’s best, Jackson?” Charley asked, trying to give him an out if he wanted one.

“Whatever,” is all he could muster.

“I guess this is congratulations, then?” Charley said, trying not to make it sound like a question.

“Thanks, Sis,” he answered, trying not to make that sound like a question.

“You’re welcome,” she sighed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to finish packing.”

“Where are you going?” Abby asked.

“I guess you and Jackson had other things to discuss, but I’m going to South Africa,” Charley told her.

“I’m jealous,” Abby responded. “I lived down there for a while.”

“You did?” Jackson responded.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Abby replied with a smile. “My grandfather has a medical clinic down there in a little town called Hoedspruit. In fact, my dad’s brother, Steve, is there, too. Where are you going? Cape Town?”

Charley just stared at her blankly.

Instead, Chance chimed in.

“She didn’t ask.”

“Are you sure about this?” Jackson asked, concerned.

“This is a major photo shoot with the best in the business,” Charley answered. “What could go wrong?”

Scarlett had an ego worse than supermodel Linda Evangelista, who was once quoted as saying, “We don’t get out of bed for less than ten thousand dollars a day.” And her temper was more volatile than Naomi Campbell’s. But with jobs few and far between lately, one would have expected she’d have learned to be more humble, more considerate. Unfortunately, she hadn’t.

When she sauntered in nearly two hours late for her massage and facial, her attitude didn’t endear her to anyone.

“I’m looking for the spa,” she said with a look of disdain. The hotel was known for its location and club, and the spa was smaller than she’d expected.

“Take a seat while you wait, Miss O’Hara,” the petite blonde behind the counter said.

Me, wait? Scarlett thought.

A chunky American of about fifty was waiting for a body wrap and leaned over to Scarlett. “Some supermodel is getting an extra half hour,” the woman sighed. “As if she needed it.”

Scarlett realized the woman didn’t recognize her, which was good. Sort of.

“You should try the antiaging facial,” the woman continued. “Really hydrating.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Scarlett said as she sank into the lounge chair.

Thanks a heap, she thought.

The door to the facial room opened, and a stunning blonde exited.

“That was really wonderful,” the blonde said with a lovely lilt in her voice.

Even from where Scarlett was sitting, she could see that the girl’s lips were plump and her teeth as white as snow.

Wonderful, Scarlett said to herself, mocking the beauty.

Wait, Scarlett thought, does she have an accent?

The girl turned to head to the lockers, and Scarlett could see she was more radiant than ever. “Scarlett O’Hara?” the girl asked, stopping in her tracks. “I’m Brigitta. We’re shooting together in South Africa.”

Just friggin’ wonderful! Scarlett screamed in her head.

“Great to meet you,” she lied.

“You’re Scarlett O’Hara?” the tourist asked as her eyes lit up.

Great, she knows me, Scarlett thought.

“I used to be a big fan,” the woman added. “Could I have your autograph?”

“I’ve never given autographs,” Scarlett sniped and strode into the massage room.

The room fell totally silent except for the gently splashing Zen waterfall.

Brigitta grimaced. “Well, this should be fun.”

Kayla could see the purples, golds, and oranges of the South African sunset, especially dramatic after the summer thunderstorm, through the massive kitchen window in front of her as she cooked. She was preparing an early dinner for her and Steve. It wasn’t even six o’clock, but as parents of a two-and-a-half-year-old, they had schedules that had changed drastically since their early days together.

Kayla’s parents owned The Brady Pub, one of the most popular gathering spots in Salem, and she’d learned to cook at her mother’s knee. Her family was the salt of the earth, and as with so many others, they had their holiday traditions. Even on the other side of the world, those traditions were sacrosanct. New Year’s Day for the Bradys meant corned beef and cabbage with boiled potatoes.

“Smells amazing, Sweetness,” Steve said as he entered, returning from his meeting with Bill.

“I should have had you invite Bill,” she realized. “There’s enough for an army here.”

“Leftovers for days,” Steve said as he picked a piece of the succulent beef from the plate.

“And it’ll bring us the good luck it’s meant to bring,” Kayla said, smiling.

“Let’s hope so,” Steve answered. With what he’d just learned from Bill, he suspected they were going to need it.

“That sounded ominous,” she said. She retrieved two intricately hand-painted African ceramic dinner plates and a child’s plate for Joe, all of which had been given to them by one of the many grateful villages.

“As beautiful as everything is in our little cocoon here,” Steve said, indicating their home, “we can’t deny South Africa’s got problems.”

Okay, he said to himself, that certainly isn’t a lie.

“Which is why we’re here,” Kayla answered, interrupting his thought. She knew every inflection of Steve’s voice, and her antennae went up. “Is there something you’re trying to tell me?”

Steve’s gaze met hers. He had promised Bill he wouldn’t worry Kayla. And if the years had proven anything, it was that Steve was a man of his word.

Besides, this wouldn’t be forever.

Fortunately for both of them, the moment was interrupted as Joe came bounding out of his room.

“Dinner!”

“And hello to you, Bud,” Steve said with a bit of relief as the towhead ran to the table.

“Hi, Pop.” Joe beamed as he climbed into the booster seat on one of the chairs.

“Man hugs?” Steve asked his son, who was the latest joy in his life.

Joe extended his chubby arms to his father for a big hug. “I love you.”

“Me, too…and?”

Joe gave his dad a high five with his left hand, a high five with his right, and then clapped three times and saluted. Steve responded in kind.

Kayla couldn’t help but smile. This was family. Her family. Her men. They were away from the day-to-day world their friends knew and were bonding in a way most would not understand.

“Corned beef and cabbage?” Kayla asked Joe, knowing he was not fond of most vegetables.

“Potatoes!” Joe beamed.

“Okay, for today, just potatoes,” Kayla agreed.

Steve popped open two bottles of beer and poured them into glasses as Kayla filled their plates.

“And everything’s good with Bill?” she asked nonchalantly.

“He apologized,” Steve said honestly.

“And butter!” Joe chimed in as he looked as his plate.

Kayla studied her husband. She knew him well after all these years, and if he had something he felt he needed to tell her, she knew he would do so eventually.

“Butter!” was Kayla’s answer.

She loaded up Joe’s potatoes with the DairyBelle butter Joe loved and watched him dig in.

“To the New Year,” Kayla said as she raised her tall glass to her husband.

“To the New Year,” Steve answered.

As they clinked glasses, both knew something was not being said. But both also knew this was not the time to discuss it.