Page 56 of Unwanted Vows

“That must have been horrible,” I say, trying to imagine the sudden loss.

“It was a bit of a shock,” Andrew said. “But Mother’s comment was enough to set me to wondering just what had happened to the first wife. So I wired Richard, and he started digging. That was when I found out that the man I had befriended is actually my biological brother.”

I would have asked more questions, but there is a clatter of several footsteps on the stair behind us, and Rylie says, “There they are! I told you they couldn’t be very far ahead of us.”

Then Austin, in his southern California beach boy accent said, “You did say that, my mermaid. You also said that the kids would be fine with Mrs. Hubbard, especially with Charlie and Julia to help.”

Rylie blinks her huge, blue eyes with their amazingly long eyelashes at Austin just as they reach the landing. “Mrs. Hubbard is intelligent, competent and experienced. She will make good use of younger, faster feet to keep up with everyone.”

Richard, who is on the stair just above them, says, “Rylie, you have the most tangled up way of putting things. But Austin vouches for her, so I’ll say you are probably right.”

“Of course I am right,” Rylie says. “I was right about that bimbo that left you at the altar, too. You just didn’t want to take advice from your baby sister. Kandy is worth two hundred of her! Didn’t I hear recently that she is on her third or fourth husband?”

Richard nods. “And she has taken every one of them for a very expensive ride. I truly lucked out that she took off before we were married. And got even luckier that Kandis agreed to marry me.”

The whole arranged marriage idea gave me an extremely queasy feeling, like those ugly YouTube videos with lurid titles like, “I was a child-bride.” Maybe I could get Catriona to finish explaining later on. After all, she certainly didn’t seem unhappy, and her explanation about the cousin and the mice made a sort of sense.

But at the moment, it all faded into the background. Leland gently turned both his daughters over to his wife, came over and shook hands with Andrew and then slapped him gently on the back. He then turned to Richard, and gave him the same treatment.

Then it struck me. Except for their clothing and their skin color, Leland and Andrew were like carbon copies of each other. Both lean, both with a narrow face and high-bridged nose, both with a distinct cleft in their chins. Richard was like a smudged, chunkier version of his brothers.

And then Catriona finishes her explanation. “Leland is two years older than Andrew. Mr. Aims and his wife coerced Albert Lane into divorcing Amari, Leland’s mother, so he could marry Deborah Aims. Something about obligations to the “family.” It is almost as if the Aims family and the Lanes were some sort of New York royalty. Regardless, have you ever seen anything finer than the three of them together?”

No, I truly had not. I looked up at the three of them, two light, one dark, and saw the same air of confidence and compassion that characterized Andrew. And, as all three Lane men smiled, they exuded the same wickedly devastating charm that got them into scrapes and back out again. Charles Emory was quite upstaged by them, or so I thought.

But Kate breathed softly, “And then there is Charles Emory.” And her tone said that he was her world.

Then the tableau was over, the moment broken and we were all headed downstairs. Mimi and Pops Quinn, Great-aunt and uncle to Kandis, entered from a door behind the orchestra seats, meeting us as we all trouped to the seats in front of the low stage where the wine was already set up, and where the tasters would pass judgment on wine from the various local vineyards.

Andrew falls into step beside me. “How are you doing?” He asks softly.

“A little overwhelmed,” I say. “There are a lot of people here.”

“There are,” he says. “It is a far cry from a clinical setting or even from the operating room.”

“Or from the jungle?” I ask.

“Or from the savannahs,” he says. “It has been a long time, and I tended to duck out on these things as often as possible even before I left. The social scene was more Richard’s bag. Speaking of social scenes . . .”

Ahead of us, twelve older people rise from their seats, and converge on Leland, gripping hands, exchanging hugs. Most have dark or tawny complexions, but one stands out. She is tall, skinny, white-haired. From her complexion, she was probably once blond. She lets out a blood-curdling cackle of a laugh, then hugs Leland.

“The village elders from Mountain Hold,” Andrew explains. “They have been touring the United States for the last six months. To them, Leland is their prince, and will always be, unless he passes his title to another family member.”

“Who . . .?” I look up at him

“Amari remarried, remember?” Andrew says. “He has a younger brother and several sisters. Leland plans to back his brother as next manager for Mountain Hold. That is not going to sit well with Grandfather Aims, because it will take it out of the Family’s governance.”

“The who?” I ask. Because the way he has said “Family” gave it a much different meaning than just this gathering of brothers, sisters, and cousins.

But I did not get a reply, because the skinny woman was hugging Andrew.

GATE CRASHER

ANDREW

A heavy set man climbs up the steps to the stage, and I gasp as I realize who it is. “Oh, hell!” I breathe.

“What?” Maddy asks. Then she, too, realizes what is happening. “It’s him, isn’t it?” she gasps.

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