Love Under Two Texans [The Lusty Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
The Lusty, Texas Collection
Love Under Two Texans
Hurting and hurt, Addison Benedict comes to Lusty to heal after a bad accident. Scarred on the inside and out, she’s humbled by her family’s generous and loving welcome, even as she secretly longs for the kind of loving relationships her brothers have found.
Carmichael Jones and Terry Jessop fall for her at first sight and don’t give one good damn about the baggage she carries. Addison may believe she has a lot to atone for, and maybe she does. But they’re determined to show her the loving woman they see within and that she does deserve love and happiness.
What no one understands is the lengths to which Addison’s mother, Norah Benedict, will go in order to see her daughter fulfills her own dreams of wealth and position. Convinced her children have all betrayed her, Norah reaches out to a stranger for help—with possibly very tragic consequences.
Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Western/Cowboys
Length: 68,782 words
LOVE UNDER TWO TEXANS
The Lusty, Texas Collection
Cara Covington
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
LOVE UNDER TWO TEXANS
Copyright © 2016 by Cara Covington
E-book ISBN: 978-1-68295-116-3
First E-book Publication: March 2016
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2016 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
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www.SirenPublishing.com
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
No one finds success in this life, in any endeavor, without the help of others who believe in them. That is even more true for authors, who need to have an audience in order to continue to be authors.
I have the best readers in the entire world, period. So thank you to everyone who is reading these words. Without you I am nothing. My thanks especially go to the wonderful members of my street team, The Lusty Ladies. You are all awesome. I am completely and forever humbled that you love my characters and my stories so much that you actively and with joy promote my work. I am grateful for each and every one of you.
No one is a bigger fan of the Flyboys, Morgan and Henry, than Lusty Lady Cathy Hunter. Cathy, I hope you’re happy with the tribute those two Kendalls—and their wife—offered.
I’m grateful to my PA, Bea, of A Better Way To Write. Lady, thank you for all you do to make what I do easier. You are a blessing.
Thanks go to my wonderful beta reader, Angie Buchanan Jones. Angie, you always give me something that makes my work better. Thank you for sharing with me so that I fully understood the rehab program that Addison underwent. I’m truly grateful. I love you, lady!
This story is the culmination of one branch of the Montana Benedict family, whose grandfather had left Lusty at the end of the Second World War and gone off to Montana to make his own way, and his own fortune. I’ve been blessed, in this mini family saga within the Lusty Texas Collection, to have had the collaboration of my good friend and fellow Siren author, Heather Rainier. Heather has been a blessing to me in more ways than I can count. I am particularly grateful, because to tell Addison’s story, I needed some of her characters from the Divine Creek Ranch series to make appearances. She generously let me borrow Veronica and Hank Stinson, and Travis McDaniel. Heather, thank you, from the bottom of my heart!
Last but never least, I am indebted to the wonderful professional men and women of Siren Publishing. Every single one of them contributes hard work and high standards to all they do, and make me look better than I am. I’m especially thankful to Devin for her excellent edit, and of course to my publisher, Amanda Hilton, for saying yes.
DEDICATION
To my husband David, who continues to bless me in all I do. He’s my hero.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Acknowledgements
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
About the Author
LOVE UNDER TWO TEXANS
The Lusty, Texas Collection
CARA COVINGTON
Copyright © 2016
Prologue
June 27, 2015
Addison Benedict thought she must be dreaming because the pain was gone now, and she felt as if she was floating on a cloud of ultimat
e softness. If this was a dream, she hoped she’d get to stay here for a while. She never wanted to be in that much pain again, even though she didn’t truly understand where the pain had come from. When she focused on the task of thinking about it, everything just went fuzzy and vague.
But as she relaxed into the floating softness, photographs appeared before her. No, not photos. Addison didn’t know how she knew that. She just did. They looked like photos, though, and the tiny snippets teased her, as if her mind wanted to play a guessing game with her. Unable to do anything else, she watched as those pictures slid past and realized she recognized each one of them. The joy of being on Midnight, her chestnut gelding, just the two of them riding over Benedict land. The realization that a storm had blown in, the sky suddenly appearing black and threatening. Then the lightning and the rain, sheets of rain that made seeing impossible, making her feel drenched to the bone and cold…so very cold. A lightning strike close—so close she smelled sulfur in the air and felt a sizzle along her skin. Midnight screamed in terror, and then she was falling… The photos stopped, and the floating surrounded her, comforted her, and swallowed her once more.
Voices danced just at the edge of her consciousness, voices that sounded familiar. The floating was different now, still a sense of moving but different…more real. Her mind was drawn back to those voices. Mommy! She remembered waking up in bright lights and screaming agony and crying for her mommy. She needed her mommy to kiss it better the way she had when Addison had fallen off her bike and scraped her knee…. That thought floated away, too, and for some reason, when it evaporated, it left her feeling…bereft. She felt bereft and so very alone.
Icy-cold shivers wracked her, and she thought she might have even whimpered and said “cold,” but she couldn’t be sure.
Blessed heat surrounded her and she knew that someone had put a heated blanket over her, and then the voices came closer. A strange buzzing echoed in her brain, growing louder and louder until it popped, and just like that, the floating was gone and consciousness returned. Reality slammed into her, pain exploded everywhere, and the impact made her wish for the comfort of floating again, but she knew it was gone forever. She recalled what had happened to her, and she knew where she was. Then the voices sharpened and became clear. Too sharp, and far too clear.
“My God, George, you saw her! That revolting slice down the side of her face is going to scar her forever! Who’s going to want to marry a woman with such an ugly scar? No one, that’s who! I’ll be too embarrassed to even be seen out in public with her. She’s ugly now, hideously so.”
“Norah, for the love of…she’s your daughter! For once, think of her and not yourself. I know she might be upset about the wound on her face, but once she’s healed, I’m sure she can have plastic surgery if she wants it. They can do wonders these days. You heard Doctor Everett. She’ll likely be in the hospital for at least a couple of weeks, if not longer. Then she’ll need to convalesce. It’ll take weeks, if not months, of therapy in order for her to regain full use of her leg again. I think that’s more important than a cut on her face.”
“Just like a man to think a woman’s leg would be more important than her face! Though I have to admit, I hadn’t thought about plastic surgery. I suppose that would make her almost as good as she was. We’ll insist she has that, of course. Why did she have to fall off her horse and gouge her face? At least if it was only the leg that had been ruined we could have kept it covered with long pants and skirts. I’ll convince her that I should go through her closet and toss all her short dresses. Once that cast comes off, her leg’s going to look a horrible mess. It’ll be almost as ugly as her face. I don’t want anyone seeing that, either.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Norah. We’re lucky she’s even alive! Can’t you just be happy about that? Can’t you be grateful our Addison is alive?”
“Grateful? Happy? How can you expect me to be either when every single one of my children has done nothing but cause problems and embarrassment for me? I had plans for her! I’d hoped she’d join the social committee at the country club, participate more in some of my charities—worthy causes, I’ll remind you. There are a number of wealthy, important young men connected to those causes, too. She could have caught the eye of one of them and made a good marriage—an important marriage. But no, she had to play at being a rancher. She’s no better than the rest of them—all of them off on their own and never mind how it reflects on me. I’d counted on Cord and Jackson to be here after their careers, but no, they’re never around for me to show them off. Jesse and Barry, as the Maxwell boys’ best friends, guaranteed my importance in Liz Maxwell’s life…now she barely speaks to me. And Veronica? Out there, living in sin, writing that disgusting porn. And without even the decency to use a pen name!” The sigh was long and heavy. “And now Addison has let me down, too. Is there anything in this world more tragic than a mother who’s been betrayed and abandoned by her children the way I have been?”
Addison heard the sound of something rubbing on something. She imagined her father scrubbing his hands over his face, a gesture of his reserved for when he was reaching the end of his rope.
“If she’d joined the committees I asked her to join instead of playing cowgirl all day, this never would have happened. This is all your fault, George. It’s all on you.”
Addison felt something deep inside her shatter into tiny, sharp little shards. They cut and pierced her on the inside. She understood that, although the woman was physically out of sight, for the first time in her life Addison was seeing her mother for the woman she truly was.
This was the mother who’d made Veronica’s life such a living hell, not because, as Addison had always believed, Norah Benedict was doing what she thought was best for her youngest daughter, to encourage her to lose weight. No, now she understood. It had never been about Veronica at all. Nika, I am so sorry. I didn’t get it, not even after your binding ceremony where you laid into us and laid it out for all of us. I’ve tried my best to be a better sister since then, but I didn’t really get it until now.
With the aching in her heart, other pain throbbed even stronger. She felt the presence of a bandage on her face and reached up to her right cheek. It was huge, the gauze bandage, and it covered her cheek, ear to chin. She felt farther, a silly gesture, but she was suddenly afraid…no, her eye was fine. Her fingers caressed her closed eyelid, and then she opened her eyes. Relief swamped her. She could see out of both of her eyes just fine.
A curtain surrounded her, assuring her of privacy of a sort. Above the curtain and beyond it, she could see the top of the door to her hospital room, and that was open. That was where her parents were, by the door, and they hadn’t been shouting, she realized now. They’d been talking quietly.
But not quietly enough.
Addison tried to move her mouth, but even swallowing hurt. She didn’t think her jaw was broken, another relief. Her gaze drifted down her body. Her left leg was suspended and casted. Whatever had happened to her face didn’t bother her nearly as much as what had happened to her leg. Her father was right there.
Midnight! Her heart pounded as the thought about her horse. Was he all right? Had he returned home? She’d ask her father as soon as she saw him. She prayed he was fine. If he hadn’t been hurt, he would have returned home. She knew her father would have seen to his care even as he looked for her.
She returned her gaze to her leg. How badly was it broken? How could she help with the ranch if she couldn’t even ride a horse? And if she couldn’t ride a horse, if she couldn’t help with the ranch, what good was she, really?
What good am I anyway? She knew her mother had been hinting for her to find a husband. She’d always just chalked it up to her mom wanting her to be happy and settled in life.
Now, she didn’t know what to think.
As more and more of her memory returned, she knew it had been her father who’d found her and rushed her to the hospital. It had been her father who’d stayed with her as the doc
tors had begun to work on her in the ER.
It was her father who loved her. Addison wanted to curl up into a tiny ball, only she could barely move. Yes, her father loved her, but she wouldn’t—couldn’t—expect him to choose her over his own wife.
Maybe this, all this, was nothing more than she deserved. She’d been blind, following her mother’s example, right from the time she’d been four or five, a little “mini-Norah” with the same mannerisms and the same attitudes. When she’d been younger, everyone said how she was just like her mother.
She’d been proud of the comparisons, then. How many times had she been told, over the years, that she was as beautiful as her mother? She’d been so proud of that then…and now?
She’d known her mother wasn’t happy with her increased work on the ranch, but she’d thought she understood. Apparently, understanding was not one of mother’s skills.
Now she was alone, more alone than she’d ever imagined she could be. And she was nothing. Worse, she’d done nothing in life but hurt her siblings with her attitude, and she’d been wrong, dead wrong.
She closed her eyes against the stinging as tears leaked.
The curtain rustled, and she looked up. A young woman came to her, her gaze on the bag of fluids on a hook above her bed. She looked down and offered Addison a smile.
“Are you in pain? The doctor’s authorized some morphine for you.”
“No, thank you.” She didn’t want drugs to dull the pain now. Her leg, even her face, throbbed. But the real pain, the one that sliced her heart, she needed to feel that. She needed to embrace that, and then she needed to try and figure out what came next.