“That was a very nice y’all,” Chelsea said. “Before we go our ways for the evening, I’ve one question for you, sweet girl.”
“Yes, Grandmother?”
“Do you still love those ham-handed, dull-witted, idiot grandsons of mine?”
Several of the women chuckled, but Pamela didn’t. She just kept her eyes on Chelsea Benedict Jessop-Kendall. “Yes, ma’am, I do. With all my heart.”
“Good. Then I would suggest that when they apologize and mend their ways, you tell them you’d like to have your commitment ceremony on Thanksgiving.”
“Oh, well done, Mother,” Maria Jessop said. Then she grinned. “That way, they’ll remember the one thing they should be most grateful for, every year. It’ll be a good annual kick in the butt for them.”
Pamela smiled—not because it was funny but because, like her, these women had no doubt whatsoever that Adam and James would come around. We’ve been married for two months, now. In truth she expected that epiphany to come any day.
“Thanksgiving it is,” Pamela said. This will be one Thanksgiving in Lusty, Texas, I’ll never forget!
* * * *
One evening a week or so later, James and Adam left their house just after supper and headed over to the Bachelor Uncles’ farm. It was the only place any of the men could come up with for them to gather without the women wanting to come, too. This would only be the second meeting the men had attended since that first one over at the New House. But it was the first evening meeting, which necessitated the small subterfuge.
He’d known Uncle Peter and Uncle William all his life. The two men were quiet, content in each other’s company, and had, over the last few years, become more than a little hermit-like.
There’d been rumors of a lady love found and then lost, several years back. James didn’t have the details and would never have asked anyone if they knew what had happened. He’d heard stories of all the uncles from when they’d been teens. In those days, Peter and William had behaved like any of the family’s males.
He knew it had taken Grandmother Mattie a long time to accept that those two sons would never marry and would in all likelihood remain as they were—bachelors and socially withdrawn.
Did loving and losing fundamentally change a man? That was a possibility that haunted not only James, but Adam, too.
People were entitled to live their lives however they chose—that was the reason Lusty had been founded, after all. If that choice in the end was to live as a bachelor, well, then, that was a body’s right.
Tonight, the uncles had been very welcoming. They had a case of beer chilled and some chips and salsa set out. James hadn’t been inside the two-story farmhouse for a very long time. He was pleased to see it was as neat as if a housekeeper had just spent hours cleaning it.
James couldn’t hold back his grin. That bit of gossip he did know about. Mother had told them they were fastidious in their housekeeping and hygiene to ensure none of the women of the family would descend upon them and fuss.
Their cousin Caleb had told them, when he’d called the day before, that he had a report for them and that the men were gathering to discuss the situation. Once everyone was present, and settled with a beer in hand, Caleb began. James listened raptly as his cousin filled them in on what he’d learned.
“And that’s it, more or less.” Caleb Benedict nodded then looked to his father, Gerald.
James Jessop wasn’t sure what to think. “So, Trevor Watson found the two men who conned Reg Franklin. That’s good, right? All you have to do is tell him to let the police in Baltimore County know.” He looked over at Adam, who nodded.
“How long do you think it will be before they’re picked up?” Adam asked.
Grandfather Jeremy sighed. He shook his head as if he was deeply disappointed. James looked over at Adam. His brother simply shrugged.
“The first thing you need to know, boys, is that we didn’t hire Watson. The grandmothers did that. Now, the man isn’t averse to giving us progress reports, but he won’t take any action that is contrary to what Chelsea and Mattie have decided upon.”
“You mean the grandmothers haven’t instructed him to alert the sheriff in Baltimore County?” Adam sounded aghast.
“That wouldn’t really result in any guaranteed action being taken,” Caleb said. “The men committed what we call white collar crime. That makes them low priority, and the arrest and extradition to another state of suspected criminals is a very costly affair. They’ve allegedly perpetrated a fraud on several people. They aren’t violent. Neither of them has, in fact, ever shown a single violent tendency. So imagine, Watson calls your father-in-law’s friend, the sheriff. What happens next? Likely nothing. Or, worst-case scenario, the two hear from their contacts back east that their names are known and they go on the run again, and then Watson has to start all over again at square one.”
“Then why look for them at all if nothing can be done?” James asked.
“It’s the immediate lack of evidence that puts the limitation on legal action at the moment,” Grandpa Sam said. “If, however, the gentlemen can be caught red-handed in the act of committing a fraud, or breaking some law, well, then, that’s another matter altogether.”
“When that happens, the crime is being perpetrated in Durant, and the local authorities—among whom are some friends of the family—can then step in and arrest the scoundrels.” Grandpa Chalie nodded.
“Ah, look at how dunce my sons appear,” Warren Jessop said. “Brilliant doctors, the both of them, but otherwise quite clueless.”
Douglas Jessop, James’s other father, shook his head. “The grandmothers have contacts and friends all over the damn place, especially, by the way, in Durant, Oklahoma. You know the family’s history with the Choctaw and Cherokee nations in general and the Smith family in particular.”
“Yes, we know the grandmothers are very well connected.”
