Wait for Me (13 page)

That should be enough to get Jonathan’s farmers started and she would assign a rep to the estate. 

Padding across the carpeted floor to the table, she set down the note pad and her iPad. Stretching her arms over head, Kenya crossed to the bed. She drew the covers back and sat on the edge of the mattress.

“Where’s your daddy, Judge?” Crawling onto the large bed her fingers sank into the soft featherbed beneath the spread. She laid out flat on the bed, her toes bumping the tall padded headboard, suede soft beneath her touch. Judge seemed to know what she wanted and laid down beside the bed where her arm hung over the edge, absently she began to scratch his large head. “Did I make a mistake allowing myself to get involved with a man like Jonathan?”

Knock Knock Knock. Kenya pushed up holding the robe closed by the lapels, startled at the sound.

“Kenya, are ye decent?”

Jonathan’s gran. “The door is unlocked,” she called, getting to an upright position. The door creaked and the woman walked through the threshold like a proud queen waving a hand at Kenya. The scent of cinnamon flowed in with the woman and Kenya remembered it from the pub. Gretchen held an aroma, not a scent. Delicious.

“Sit, it’s only an old woman coming to rattle ye cage a wee bit.”

“If you don’t mind, my cage has had the Jaws of Life gnawing at it today. Is there something I can do for you- Gran Blakemore? Jonathan isn’t here right now and to be honest, I’m uncertain when he’ll be back.”

“Aye…scoot over,” the woman said, edging her ample hips on the mattress. Their thighs rubbed along one another. Gretchen folded her weathered fingers in her ample lap. “I like you, Kenya. You gave me Seamus a good twist back there in the pub. But…” she said patting Kenya’s thigh. “That’s irrelevant right now. Me question…did ye like the flowers? I grow them me self, ya know.”

Kenya adjusted on the bed. “You want me to believe you walked all the way down that enormous hallway to ask about the flowers?”

“I have nae heard the answer to me question.” Kenya loved the woman’s deep accent.

“I loved them.” Crossing her legs, she reclined on her hands. This walking book of Blakemore history settled in for a long talk.

“Jonathan means the world to the family. He’ll be the matriarch, there is no doubt.”

“Brian?”

“Is greedy. Aye, he is next in the line, but will nae be ready to lead this family into anything more than debt. Sophie is a grand woman for allowing my grandson to visit through the years knowing Brian would try and influence the boy as often as he could get his hands on his son.”

“Sophie told you what happened, I can see. I didn’t take his…”

Gretchen’s hand pressed flat between Kenya’s breasts patting the spot over her heart. Gretchen urged lovingly, “Keep me grandson in ye wee heart. Let him protect his family and you protect his soul. He’s been a man all his life.” She pulled Kenya’s hand under hers, threading their fingers together. Gretchen’s weathered and spotted skin contrast with Kenya’s smooth and whiskey complexioned. “What he does back in the States, for the wee ones, helps him take back a portion of his childhood. Brian stole that from he, driving his mother away to live in the States. That broke me heart all those years ago with me oldest grandson so far away." She paused and Kenya could see the pain of memories in the lines around her eyes. "Seamus moved us to the States for part of the year, so I could see me grandson grow into the proud man holding your heart today, young Kenya.”

“Jonathan hasn’t lost my friendship,” she started and it wasn’t a lie, just an incomplete decision on her part because this cyclone of a relationship had her stomach knotted. She continued, “I just want him safe from Brian. That’s the only reason I’m here.”

“Tomorrow, ride out with him to check on the farms and the rest of the land. You by his side is all he wants. Some will turn their noses up at you being a black woman and some will nae even care.”

Kenya knew most would turn their noses up and a few would nae care, as Gran would say. She leaned in. The woman touched her hair. Inhaling her delicious aroma under her fingers, massaging her scalp as her mother had done when she were a little girl. Great. Now she’s thinking of this woman as family.

“Me grandson adores thick hair like yours.”

Visions of them in the shower crossed her mind. Jonathan had played in her hair each time they were together.

“Is it true about him needing an heir to claim the entire estate and merge both the name and the castle?”

“It is,” Gran confirmed to Kenya’s dismay.

She hadn’t wanted it to be true as panic slipped along her spine stiffening her body. Jonathan wanted her to give him a child…that’s all…

Jonathan’s cologne from where they got dressed after the shower earlier permeated the sheets and tickled her nose. He’d stretched back over the spread before they’d left, thinking or contemplating she wasn't certain. She thought he had looked so peaceful before sitting up to put his shoes on while she dressed. Now his scent surrounded her, made her body tingle.

“I’m not promising any grandchildren, but until I have to leave Sunday, I’ll do what I can to help,” Kenya said, helping the woman get to her feet and her breast tingled at what she hoped was a misunderstanding. The woman whispered beneath her breath. Kenya asked, “Can you repeat that, I didn’t catch the last part of what you said?”

“Be more than a warm pair of legs opening under every blink of those eyes. He's had those. He needs a friend now.”

She dug her fingers into the chair beside the door. “Gran?”

“He needs a wife and has nae focused on a woman the way he has locked onto you, Kenya. He knows you are his lover; remind him ye are his friend and someone he can trust. It's all he needs, you'll see."

Escorting the woman to the door, Kenya walked her down the hall to the other giant suite on the far end their steps echoing off the walls of the spacious stone hallway. The scent from the pub wafted through the air of the long hall as she made her way back. Her mouth watered butut exhaustion tore at her muscles. A tall gilded mirror glittered under an overhead sconce and Kenya caught her reflection, sucking in a breath at her image. She was naked under her robe and the girls were up and talking. She sped up her steps.

Clutching her breast to lesson them bouncing, she jogged the rest of the way, praying she didn’t run into anyone. Returning to their room, she removed her robe and let the warmth from the fireplace penetrate her tired body. The cotton sheets rustled as she climbed in between the soft material. Tucking her hands beneath her pillow she hugged the thick cloud and gave in, letting sleep pull her under. Jonathan ran western Ireland and never told her he was in over his head. Every person was seriously tugging him from every direction in his world. She refused to be one of those people. 

~~~~

Jonathan sat on the bench not wanting to believe what he just witnessed at the edge of the forest just behind the guest room of the castle. He’d pulled the jeep as close to the top of the lake as he could safely maneuver it. He walked down needing the fresh air, because going back to his and Kenya’s room angry wasn’t what he would take to her. The woman had become a part of him and she had no idea what he would do for her now. He wanted this to be a vacation from family drama for his woman; instead he gave her untrust and suspicion from his family.

Going to confront, Brian, Jonathan trekked up the slight berm past the tree line, and froze hearing a woman moaning. He ran a hand through his hair. Hikers usually didn’t come this close to the lake on this end. The path was secluded for the castle patrons. He eased down on the stump. He’d mentioned it to the rangers tomorrow about letting hikers up this far, but had no desire to walk in on the pair. Come on somebody climax already, so he could get out of the cool air. The woman cried out seconds before the man cursed out into the air.

Hungry and tired, he’d waited as long as possible before stepping over the dry grass to walk up through the path between the trees, halting seeing familiar wide shoulders. They mirrored his own. Brian stood, zipping his pants. The woman leaned against the tree zipping her jacket, long black hair hung over her face.

Seldom did he pay attention to a person’s race, but seeing the woman’s dark brown hands and smooth hair tucked back behind her ears and Jonathan’s throat closed tight as her features hit the strip of moonlight growing through the woods. Morgan. What the hell! Kenya’s sister…getting her ass blown out by his father.

Jonathan whistled and moved up the berm toward his father.

“You’re a sorry, sad excuse of a man,” he said, setting his attention on Kenya’s sister. “Kenya loves you and this is how you treat her?”

Brian must have gone after Morgan when Kenya turned him down. She’d told him the truth. 

Embarrassed, the woman pretend confidence shoving her folded arms beneath her breast, her mouth twisted in a rueful smirk. Wind moved through the tops of the trees and the branches whispered overhead. 

“Morgan’s my guest.” Brian sneered. “Unless you’re here to sign over the estate, get off my land.”

“You don’t own the estate, Brian. You hold the same amount of shares as I do.”

“That’s true…until your grandfather dies, and then it’s my land.” His brash tone reminded Jonathan of the ruthless man he dealt with.

“You’ve lied to yourself so often you’re starting to believe your own stories. Seamus has willed the estate to me.”

Jonathan watched Brian wave Morgan back toward his cabin and caught something familiar pass between them. You don’t share a look of understanding with someone you just met. How long have they been together plotting Brian’s next attempt on the estate? The woman would pose a real problem for his family.

“The farmers and men in the surrounding areas know I’ll be here to protect their interest, not you, Jonathan. You blocked the underground pub and the gambling. Nobody wants you here.”

He upheld the wishes of the Blakemore men before them. The farmers didn’t want gamblers this far inland any more than Jonathan had. This is rural country and the only way to keep it thriving is to limit outside traffic to those that appreciate the land.

“You can’t give away what you don’t own, Brian. There's over five hundred years of history on this land.”

Brian nodded. “True…for now.”

He paced a circle around Brian. Agitated, Jonathan flexed his fingers along his thighs. 

“It's in the McGhee name; you can’t do anything without a share holders meeting with all of us involved. The estate is a part of the business.”

Brian cantered his head like a bird. Jonathan stared at the curious gleam in his eyes, creasing in the darkness under the moon.

“Your mother never told you the full scope of our marriage agreement, has she?”

“What are you rambling about?” The cold air blew over his face, he could smell the pine in the forest, and could hardly keep his mind on his father’s words, wanting to be done with this mess.

“She forfeits the land and our marriage if she lives a part from me for more than ten years. I can marry and have an heir and this estate reverts to my child with my new wife.”

His stomach churned with that knowledge. He and his mother had lived away from him more than nine years.

“You're lying.” Jonathan balled his fist and lunged for Brian. Took him to the ground scrambling on the dry earth, he closed his hands around his father’s throat, choking him with anger coursing up through his fingers. All this time Brian has been waiting for this moment to take his mother’s property.

Brian pounded at his son’s back. Jonathan released one hand, slamming his fist into his father’s ribs. Grunt’s and moans rang through the air as the two men rolled through the dirt. They kicked up dirt and leaves over the hard ground, grabbing at one another. The sound of feet thundering on the forest floor echoed around them. Next thing Jonathan clutched back at hands tugging the back of his sweater. Someone pulled Jonathan from atop Brian. He righted himself wiping at his face seeing more men fill in around him and Brian. 

“Cousin, what aye yer two doing? What happened?” Jamie scolded, bracing himself between the two men.

“Jonathan,” Brian said, wiping dirt from his clothes, breathing labored. “Sophie walked away from me and this land years ago. Ask her about the contract before you take me on, son. She signed it over thirty years ago and I aim to make her honor her words.” 

Jonathan wanted to tear his father a part for scheming against his mother with Morgan.

“Keep her away from Kenya!” He wanted to kill him now. There was little, if no, love lost between him and Brian, and now he’s trying to take Jonathan’s inheritance. “I don’t know how you tracked down Kenya’s sister, but you won’t get your hands on my estate.”

“I’ve warned you…” Brian forced.

“Jonathan, go check with Aunt Sophie. If any part of this is true she can tell ye,” Jamie urged. 

In the jeep, he pulled out his phone and punched in his mother’s number. Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel he waited until Sophie came on the line.

“Mother. Brian tells me there’s a stipulation on the marriage contract between you two. Tell me he’s lying.” The quiet filled the cabin of the Jeep.

“Oh good lord, that’s why he’s doing this now. Jonathan I forgot about the living a part clause.”

“So it’s true?”

“I wanted nothing to do with him or the estate and after the fire my mother never wanted to go back.”

“When does it expires, Mother?” He pushed down on the latch on the door; opening it, he got out and braced a hand to the roof of the Jeep. Kicking his feet in the dry earth, he waited.

“In less than two months. Oh, that bastard. It’s been almost ten years since we shared a house. He can officially get a divorce and retain his shares, because I will have broken the contract.”

“What of the estate?”

“Seamus’s shares goes to Brian’s first son from his wife. Unless he’s married with a child on the way you two still own even shares.”

“So his wife doesn’t have to be you?”

“No. Jonathan what’s happened?”

“He’s working on being prepared when the contract expires.”