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

environs of the county since shortly after that first doctor—Jeremiah Parker—had arrived in Lusty in 1910.

Where there were farms and ranches, there would be accidents, some requiring the assistance of a doctor. They didn’t have a full-time nurse, but Kate Benedict, who’d come to Lusty in 1942 as a major in the Army Nurse Corps, came in a couple of days a week. Kate kept her certification and license current, and Adam knew from his dad that Kate not only knew her stuff, she had a way with the patients.

I imagine so since she single-handedly ran a convalescent home with as many as twenty-four male patients at a time during the war. Of course, Kate was always quick to point out that without the presence of Dr. Parker and the help of the community, many members of which volunteered their time, she couldn’t have managed to run the place at all.

But she was the only trained nurse, and the responsibility for the care of the residents, in the eyes of the United States Army, had been hers, and hers alone.

“It’s a proud tradition this town has.” Uncle Terrence came into the room, his own coffee cup in hand. He sat himself down in one of the chairs and scanned the photographs that had been framed and hung, Adam knew, not all that long ago.

The family had a lot of photographs, and they were changed about on a regular basis. There were enough pictures, Grandmother Chelsea was fond of saying, to fill a dedicated museum.

“It is a proud tradition,” Adam said.

“Of course, we have more traditions than just those related to our field of endeavor.”

James came into the room, cup in hand, and took a seat. “Are we having a meeting, then?”

Adam’s focus was on Terrence. Something in the way his uncle had said that made him raise one eyebrow.

“To which other traditions, exactly, are you referring?”

Terrence sighed. “You know the story, of course, of how your great-grandmother Amanda and great-grandmother Sarah arranged for Kate to come to Lusty, and why.”

“Uncles Gerry and Pat met her in Arlington and fell in love with her—and begged their grandmothers to pull strings.”

“Indeed, they did. Which meant, of course, that your Grandmothers Chelsea and Mattie felt they had a tradition to uphold.”

“Um, what sort of tradition?” James asked.

“Why, a tradition of action, of course. The one that has them ‘looking into things’ and when cause is found, ‘setting things to rights.’ And it’s not just those two matriarchs, either, who busy themselves. Madison, Miranda, and yes, even your mother, along with Kate and now, I fear, the next generation of women…”

Adam looked at James. His brother looked as confused as he, himself felt. “And this is a problem because…”

“Well, damn it man, the women don’t know what kind of danger they can be walking into! They assume—whether it’s because they’re women or women of means that they can handle any damn thing they stumble upon. They don’t know how dangerous people can be—people of ill will—when they’re cornered.”

“What people of ill will?”

Adam had a bit of a sick feeling in his stomach. He expected an answer, but not an answer in the form of a question.

“What did you think would happen when y’all told your parents about the con artists who fleeced Pamela’s father? Did you expect the ladies would only indulge in tea and sympathy?”

“What, exactly, are they doing?” James asked.

“How do I know? My Madison is as closed-mouthed as the rest of the women in this family. Philip and I have no idea what she’s up to.” He frowned. “We do know, from Jeremy Kendall and Charlie Benedict, that Chelsea and Mattie contracted the services of a private investigator, in New York, to try to find those two charlatans.”

“Well, then they’ve turned to a professional. Do we know if this is a reputable investigator?”

Terrence waved his hand as if the question really wasn’t relevant. “Of course, the man is reputable. The family has used him for at least a few years.”

The alarm that Adam had begun to feel with his uncle’s original pronouncement calmed. “This is a good thing. Perhaps we should ask the grandmothers if we can contribute to the cost…”

“No, no. The Town Trust handles that sort of thing. Pamela is, after all, a Jessop. Is she not?”

It took all of Adam’s will not to raise one eyebrow at what he felt was the absurdity of the question. “Of course she is, and one who’s embraced the family at that.”

“Well of course she has. She’s a sensible woman.” Terrence sighed. “Sadly, that will likely change as the years pass. Her being sensible. We men are going to have a meeting, tomorrow, at about eleven. The other men will attend, and we’ll discuss what precautions should be taken to ensure the safety of our women.”

Adam met James’s gaze. He’d originally thought that his uncle was too young to be considering retiring, and he worried he was doing so just so he and his brother could have a useful position within Lusty.

Now he was beginning to think that retirement couldn’t come soon enough.

“You’ll attend the meeting tomorrow, with me, over at the New House. Chelsea, Miranda, Mattie, and Kate will be heading to Waco early to go shopping. You’ll attend with me, and let’s see if you still think I’m a crackpot then.”

Adam didn’t know what embarrassed him more, that his Uncle Terrence had read his thoughts or that he hadn’t known what Pamela had been involved in with the ladies.

“We’ll be there,” James said. Yes, his younger brother was thinking the exact same thing he was.

If the grandmothers had hired a private investigator, why hadn’t Pamela told them? True, they hadn’t come right out and asked her if anything unusual was happening when she got together for coffee with the women.

Then another thought occurred to him, and he decided to speak to James before they headed home. He knew his grandmothers and how nurturing they could be—and how protective, as well.