Dr. Gaines grinned, obviously still amused. “I’m married. And even if I weren’t, I’m sure your sons would appreciate finding their own women.”
Raina tamped down her disappointment, then waved her hand in the air in response. “As if my boys would ever find their own women. Or should I say wives. Nothing short of a life-or-death emergency would force them to pick one woman and settle down. …” Raina’s voice trailed off as the import of her own words sank in.
Life-or-death emergency. The only thing that would convince her sons of the necessity to get married. Her life-or-death emergency.
As the plan began to form, Raina’s conscience begged her to dismiss the idea. It was cruel to lead her sons to believe she was ill. On the other hand, it was for their own good. They couldn’t deny her anything, not when she truly needed them, and by playing on their good natures, she’d ultimately be leading them to happily ever after. Not that they’d know or appreciate it at first.
She gnawed on her lip. It was a risk. But without grandchildren, loneliness loomed large in her future, just as, without a wife or family, it loomed large for her sons. She wanted more for them than empty homes and emptier lives—the kind of life she’d had since her husband died.
“Doctor, my diagnosis here … it’s confidential?”
The younger woman shot her a slanted glance. No doubt she was used to that question with only the most dire of cases. Raina checked her watch. She was running out of time before the boys returned. Her newly formulated plan as well as her family’s future depended upon the woman’s answer, and Raina waited, tapping her foot impatiently.
“Yes, it’s confidential,” Dr. Gaines said with a good-natured laugh.
Raina relaxed a bit more. She hugged her cotton hospital gown closer. “Good. I’m sure you don’t want to have to evade my sons’ questions, so, thank you for everything.” She extended her hand for a polite shake, when she really wanted to shove the other woman through the curtain before the cavalry arrived with pointed questions.
“It was a pleasure and an experience meeting you. Dr. Fallon will be back in the office tomorrow. If you have any problems before then, don’t hesitate to call.”
“Oh, I won’t,” Raina said.
“So what’s the story?” Rick, the middle child no one had ever been able to ignore, barreled through the drawn curtain with Chase on his heels. Rick’s brash nature echoed his mother’s personality. His dark brown hair and hazel eyes resembled Raina’s before her hairdresser had gotten hold and changed her to a honey-blond to obliterate the gray.
In contrast, Roman and Chase were the bookends with jet-black hair and blazing blue eyes. Both her oldest and youngest were the spitting image of their father. Their imposing builds and dark hair never failed to remind her of John. Only their personalities were uniquely their own.
Chase stood in front of his agitated sibling and faced the doctor head-on. “What’s going on?”
“I think your mother’s condition is something she’d like to explain herself,” the doctor said, then slipped beyond the awful multicolored curtain.
Ignoring the tug of guilt in favor of the greater good, and assuring herself they’d thank her in the end, Raina blinked back tears and placed a shaky hand over her heart. Then she explained her frail health and long-standing desire to her sons.
CHAPTER ONE
Roman Chandler glared at his oldest brother, or more accurately he glared at the quarter in Chase’s right hand. After getting the phone call about his mother’s heart problem, Roman had grabbed the first flight out of London. He’d flown into JFK Airport, taken a connecting flight to Albany, and then rented a car so he could drive an hour to his hometown of Yorkshire Falls, just outside of Saratoga Springs, New York. He was so tired even his bones ached from sheer exhaustion.
And now he could add stress to his problems. Thanks to his mother’s heart condition, one of the Chandler brothers would have to sacrifice his freedom in order to provide Raina with a grandchild. A coin toss would decide which brother would shoulder the burden, but only Rick and Roman would be involved. Having already done his family duty by giving up college to run the paper and help his mother raise his younger brothers, Chase wouldn’t take part in the toss—despite his argument to the contrary. He’d wanted things equal. Rick and Roman had insisted Chase opt out.
He’d play executioner instead.
“Call it. Heads or tails,” Chase said.
Roman glanced at the unpainted ceiling, toward the upstairs of his childhood home where his mother was resting, as per doctor’s orders. Meanwhile, he and his brothers stood waiting on the dusty, dirt-smeared floor of the garage that was attached to the family house. The same garage where they’d stored their bikes and balls as kids, and where Roman had snuck beers when he thought his older brothers weren’t around. And the same house they’d been raised in and their mother still held on to, thanks to Chase’s hard work and his success with the newspaper.
“Come on, guys, someone call it,” Chase said in the wake of the surrounding silence.
“You don’t have to sound like you’re enjoying this,” Rick muttered.
“You think I’m enjoying this?” Chase twisted the coin between his fingers, frustration tugging at his lips. “That’s bullshit. I sure as hell don’t want to see either of you lose the life you chose just because of some whim.”
Roman was certain his oldest brother felt so strongly because Chase hadn’t chosen his own life path. Instead he’d been thrust into the dual roles of publisher and parent overnight. At eighteen and the oldest sibling when their father died, Chase had felt a duty to take his father’s place as head of the family. And that was the motivating factor for Roman’s participation in the coin toss now. Roman had been
