A Stirring from Salem by Sheri Anderson Read Free Book Online Page B

said to himself, that certainly isn’t a lie.
    “Which is why we’re here,” Kayla answered, interrupting his thought. She knew every inflection of Steve’s voice, and her antennae went up. “Is there something you’re trying to tell me?”
    Steve’s gaze met hers. He had promised Bill he wouldn’t worry Kayla. And if the years had proven anything, it was that Steve was a man of his word.
    Besides, this wouldn’t be forever.
    Fortunately for both of them, the moment was interrupted as Joe came bounding out of his room.
    “Dinner!”
    “And hello to you, Bud,” Steve said with a bit of relief as the towhead ran to the table.
    “Hi, Pop.” Joe beamed as he climbed into the booster seat on one of the chairs.
    “Man hugs?” Steve asked his son, who was the latest joy in his life.
    Joe extended his chubby arms to his father for a big hug. “I love you.”
    “Me, too…and?”
    Joe gave his dad a high five with his left hand, a high five with his right, and then clapped three times and saluted. Steve responded in kind.
    Kayla couldn’t help but smile. This was family. Her family. Her men. They were away from the day-to-day world their friends knew and were bonding in a way most would not understand.
    “Corned beef and cabbage?” Kayla asked Joe, knowing he was not fond of most vegetables.
    “Potatoes!” Joe beamed.
    “Okay, for today, just potatoes,” Kayla agreed.
    Steve popped open two bottles of beer and poured them into glasses as Kayla filled their plates.
    “And everything’s good with Bill?” she asked nonchalantly.
    “He apologized,” Steve said honestly.
    “And butter!” Joe chimed in as he looked as his plate.
    Kayla studied her husband. She knew him well after all these years, and if he had something he felt he needed to tell her, she knew he would do so eventually.
    “Butter!” was Kayla’s answer.
    She loaded up Joe’s potatoes with the DairyBelle butter Joe loved and watched him dig in.
    “To the New Year,” Kayla said as she raised her tall glass to her husband.
    “To the New Year,” Steve answered.
    As they clinked glasses, both knew something was not being said. But both also knew this was not the time to discuss it.

“You sure you have everything?” Abby asked.
    Charley was now dressed in a pair of white cotton OMG drawstring pants, a soft-as-velvet cream-colored tee, and white leather slip-ons with an ivory cashmere pashmina draped over her shoulders.
    “If I don’t, I’m screwed,” Charley laughed. “The game farms are not the place to fill in your wardrobe.”
    The upbeat atmosphere in Jackson’s flat was palpable. It had been a while since the Gaines siblings had had such a diversion. Both Jackson and Chance had been stunned when the world branded them as pariahs. There had been a time when the Donald Trumps of the world could go bankrupt twice and still reign supreme. The celebrity cache meant something. But the times they were a-changin’. There were now so many unemployed financial gurus and attorneys who had tanked in the global recession that the job market was flooded with more than capable and less than astronomically expensive talent.
    The Gaines brothers were hanging on by the proverbial thread.
    “Are you bringing your Hasselblad?” Chance asked.
    “I am a very lowly assistant on this shoot, and all I’m looking for is a credit,” Charley reminded her savvy brother. “I’m bringing lightweight summer clothes, mosquito repellent, malaria tablets, and a positive attitude.”
    “It’s why we love you,” Jackson added.
    The buzzer rang from downstairs, and Jackson answered.
    “The car is here for Ms. Gaines,” the disembodied voice told him.
    “Oh, Lord, wish me luck,” Charley gasped.
    She slipped out of her loafers, tipped her toes into white OMG sheepskin-lined boots, and then shrugged into a camel, triple-ply, cashmere, hooded floor-length coat. It would be nearly one hundred degrees in South Africa, but it was still nearly freezing in