One Thanksgiving in Lusty, Texas by Cara Covington (rosie project TXT) 📕

Fred smiled. Gary only used his real name when he was being absolutely serious. “I do. Somewhere out there, in one of the states bordering on Oklahoma, or hell, maybe in Oklahoma itself, have to be a couple of old ladies who want to leave a secure future to their loved ones.”

“And if anyone can convince those ladies to hand over those bucks for investment, that person is you.”

“You’re pretty good at the grift yourself, pal.” Fred felt a weight slide off his shoulders. Knowing Gary, he’d want to take a week or two, getting his ducks in a row.

But he’d been persuaded, and that was all that mattered. Oklahoma, here we come!

* * * *

“This picture was taken when Adam was three and James was two.”

Pamela looked down at the adorable shot of two brothers sharing a bath—both with their hair covered in shampoo suds, both with adorable, almost gamine smiles, and of course, both totally naked.

Maria Sanchez Jessop’s finger caressed the image of her toddlers, and then she met Pamela’s gaze. Her grin was wide, and she flicked a quick look at her sons, who currently flanked Pam and were actually squirming in their chairs. “I warned them, when they were fifteen and fourteen and getting into mischief, that the moment they brought a woman home, I would show her this picture, if they didn’t behave. To what I imagine now is their deep regret, they did not listen to their mama.”

Pamela caught further proof of the discomfort her men were feeling when she saw Adam grimace in her peripheral vision. She laughed. “I’m pleased to know you’re a woman of your word, Maria.” Her mother-in-law had embraced her on first sight and invited her to call her by her first name. Her fathers-in-law had done the same.

Their grandparents, Chelsea Benedict Jessop-Kendall, Jeremy Kendall, and Dalton Jessop, had been just as welcoming. Over supper, Pamela had gotten to know these new relatives. The two triads had one notable thing in common, and that was that the men fairly doted on their wives. Men outnumbered women at this supper table two to one, but no one would know that based on the dynamics she’d witnessed.

Pamela had had a sense of that same kind of treatment already from Adam and James, and now she knew it came very naturally to them both.

“Gentlemen, I believe now is a good time for us to withdraw to the kitchen.” Her father-in-law Warren grinned at his wife then directed his eyes toward his sons. “We’ll put on a pot of coffee, cut the pies, and begin working on the dishes.”

Pamela knew surprise showed on her face as the men got up and began to clear the table.

“It’s tradition,” Chelsea said. When James and Adam got to their feet to do their father’s bidding—and no doubt, grabbing at the chance to escape possibly more of Maria’s motherly teasing—Chelsea moved and sat down beside Pamela.

Grandmother Chelsea patted her hand and gave her the sweetest smile. “And it’s not always the women who do the cooking, so it’s not always the men who do the cleaning up.”

“I like that tradition. I’m a fairly good cook. It was one of the things my mother taught me, and it made for great mother-daughter time together.”

“It absolutely does!” Chelsea sighed. “When I was young and learning to cook, and again as a young bride when there were so very many occasions to spend time with my mother, Sarah, and my mother-in-law, Amanda, I was grateful for that. We often tackled the heavier domestic chores as a team.”

“Like the quilting bees my mother used to tell me about?”

“We had a few of those, as well. We also got together to make jam and to can some of the autumn harvest. That’s something we still do each year, though, of course, no longer at an outdoor fire. When I was younger, most of us had carpets in our living rooms, and each spring, we’d go from house to house and get those heavy rugs spread out for a good dose of beating, airing, and sunshine.”

Pamela enjoyed hearing about the family traditions these women had shared. “Our farm is in a more rural area of Maryland, and while there were a few neighbors I recall from my childhood, there wasn’t much of a sense of community there. It sounds like there’s a very good sense of community here.”

“Your mother passed fairly recently, didn’t she?” Maria asked.

“Yes, just under a year ago. It was so sudden. We found out she was sick, and then just a few short months later, she was gone. It was really hard on my dad.”

“And on you,” Maria said. “As you were the only daughter. My mother died not long before I got married, too. But fortunately, my mother-in-law became a second mother to me. I hope I can be that for you.”

“That would be wonderful.” Pamela had been nervous about meeting Maria Sanchez Jessop for that very reason. A part of her hoped she and her new mother-in-law would hit it off. Pamela was a woman fully grown, but she really missed her mother, and that good woman’s wise counsel.

“It seems as if my grandsons are just like my fathers-in-law,” Chelsea said. “They rushed you into marriage so that they could bring you home with them. Back before the turn of the century, Adam and Warren had no intention of letting their Amanda get on that train and head back to Virginia, leaving them behind.”

Pamela felt her face heat. “Our wedding was a bit rushed, yes. And a bit of a surprise. I’d known I’d fallen for both Adam and James, but I had no indication from them whatsoever they felt the same way about me.”

“Well, good heavens, how did they get you to marry them, then?” Maria and Grandmother Chelsea both appeared curious.

Pamela shrugged. “They asked me. They told me they’d intended to ask that night anyway.