Kestrel (Hart Briothers #3) by A. M. Hargrove Read Free Book Online

upper part of South Carolina.
    “It
was hard on you.”
    “Oh,
I was a mess for the entire month of August. My son wasn’t bad because he was
here in town, you see. And my daughter was still home. But when my husband and
I drove away from her dorm in August, well, I can tell you there was a flood in
the car. My poor Ralph. He had a weeping fool on his
hands for the longest time. I’m fine now, but lordy ,
it was hard. I never thought it would be so tough on a mama.”
    “You
don’t seem old enough to be an empty nester,” I say.
    She
beams. “Well that’s kind of you, sir.”
    “Just
being honest, ma’am. I think you reach a point in life where age becomes less
important.”
    Her
laughter fills the room. Its tinkling sound is almost musical. It kind of
reminds me of Gabby’s. I find myself smiling.
    “You
say that now. Wait until you’re knocking on fifty’s door. Then it’ll become
very important.”
    “Probably
so. But look at all you have. And with good fortune, your children will marry
in the not too distant future, and you’ll have grandchildren.”
    “Oh,
I’d love that, when the time is right, for sure. But what
about you? You could face the same. Children in your future, I mean.”
    Never.
That will never happen in my case. I’m not capable of sharing that kind of
love. Nurturing some small creature that’s completely dependent on me? I can
barely take care of myself.
    “No,”
I snap.
    “Well,
of course you will.”
    In
a tone that conveys no argument, I say, “Absolutely not. That will never
happen. I think the coffee is ready now.”
    My
change of subject has disturbed her. It can’t be helped. This is a closed
subject to all. I don’t discuss this with anyone. As I look at her, my attitude
slightly softens.
    “I’m
sorry, Shayla. There are some things about me you can’t possibly be aware of, things
I don’t discuss with others.”
    She
nods as we make our way back to the office and begin work for the day.
    “I
understand, sir.”
    I
don’t correct her this time. Maybe I need to keep our relationship a formal
one. It may prove to work out best this way. I can’t have her meddling in my
private life, even if her intentions are good.
    “Shall
we begin?” I ask.
    As
we delve deeper into the work, it becomes clear how excellent Shayla is at what
she does.
    “I
have to commend you on your skills, Shayla. I’m quite impressed. I need to ask
you something. Are you opposed to traveling with me?”
    Her
head tilts and I know she’s confused by my question.
    “Let
me explain. I’d like you to accompany me when I have to meet with some of the
possible clients we may be dealing with. This will require travel on your part.
Some of it will be to Atlanta, Charlotte, or other areas that are fairly close.
Others may be farther away. Are you up for this? If not, it’s okay. I just need
to know so I can find someone who is.”
    “Can
I check with my husband? I’ve never done anything like this before and I’d like
to talk it over with him.”
    “Absolutely.
Let me know when you have an answer, the sooner the better.” It must be an old-fashioned
thing. Or maybe they have that tight of a marriage, but it never occurred to me
she would have to check with him. Then an idea strikes me.
    “Shayla,
would it help if I took the two of you out to dinner so he could meet me?”
    Smiling,
she says, “Yes, I think that would be nice.”
    “What
day would work for you? I’m wide open since I just moved here.”
    “Saturday
night?”
    “Saturday
is perfect. I’ll make a reservation and have a driver pick you up.”
    “Oh,
no! We can meet you.”
    “Absolutely
not. There will be wine at dinner. No driving after that.”
    “Yes,
sir.”
    “Oh,
and Shayla. At least at dinner, can we dispense with the ‘sir’?”
    “We’ll
see.”
    We
laugh. My phone rings and when I answer, it’s the shipping company informing me
my vehicles will be arriving in thirty minutes.
    “Excellent.
My