"Was it for the money?"
"What do you mean?"
"The money. Did you reach out to him because you wanted the money?"
Her eyes softened as she shook her head. "No, love. It was for Beth or Barrett. And for you." She sighed, reaching out to tousle his hair. "All I had was Evie. She was it. But she's so happy in Hong Kong, I need to face the fact that she's making her own life there, which leaves me . . . alone. But Tom, you have family. You have a grandfather, a father, and a brother. They're yours. They belong to you. And I want Beth or Barrett to have family, to have a legacy, to belong, so . . ."
"So you mended fences for me."
She nodded. "Forgive me?"
"I adore you," he said softly, stepping to the landing so he could sweep her into his arms.
"Do you know what you are, Tom English?" she asked him as he set her carefully on their bed and climbed over her.
"A dream come true?" he asked her, dipping his head to brush featherlight kisses to her throat.
"Exactly."
"Then I guess," he said, leaning forward to claim her lips with his, "that makes you my miracle."
Epilogue
Haverford Park
Christmastime 2015
"His miracle," sighed Valeria, grinning up at Eleanora from where she still sat cross-legged on the floor.
"I loved it," sighed Emily. "I love that Barrett brought you back to the Englishes."
"Glad he wasn't a Beth, huh?" asked Daisy, nudging her cousin.
"Heck, yes."
Jessica English, whose head was resting on Kate English's shoulder, sighed. "Is that where you got Alex's name? From Charity Atwell's brother?"
Eleanora grinned. "Subconsciously, maybe. He was devilish . . . just like Alex."
"Whatever happened to Evie?" asked Molly, tucked into the corner of the sofa, beside her friend Daisy.
"We lost touch for a while," said Eleanora, sipping her now-cooled cocoa. "But then Facebook happened! And we found each other again."
"Is she still in Hong Kong?" asked Daisy.
Eleanora nodded. "For over thirty years now. She and Van were married in 1984, and though Tom and I were invited, we couldn't go." She smiled back at Daisy. "Fitz was on the way."
"And then Alex, and Stratton, and Wes," said Valeria. "You had your hands full. No wonder you lost touch."
"Did my," Kate cleared her throat, "great-grandfather ever get a chance to meet Barrett?"
Eleanora's eyes misted a little. "He did. He was so tough, girls. He held on until Barrett was born and passed away two weeks later. I'll find a picture for you, Emily."
"You liked him?" pressed Kate, her voice tentative, like the answer mattered.
"I did. In the end, I liked him very much," said Eleanora, smiling at her niece. "And your father became an important part of the boys' lives too, Kate. And of course, so did you."
"What was in the letter you wrote to Tom's grandfather?" asked Jessica, leaning forward on the love seat.
Eleanora took a deep breath, hearing whispers from the past in her head. "It carried my dreams for a family. My hope for a miracle."
"You won't tell us?" asked Valeria, ever the straight shooter.
Eleanora shook her head. "No, girls. That bit stays between me and old Mr. English, bless his heart."
"Did you ever tell Tom about the letter?" asked Emily.
"I did. Years later, when it didn't matter anymore."
Molly sighed wistfully. "Thanks for telling us. It's a lovely story."
All the girls chimed in with their agreement, and Daisy applauded softly, which turned into full-blown cheers as the other girls joined in. In fact, it almost drowned out the sound of the front door opening.
"Ladies? We're home!"
Eleanora beamed at the sound of her husband's voice coming into the front foyer of Haverford Park. "In here, Tom."
Tom peeked his red cheeks into the room, flanked by Alex and Fitz, who grinned at their wives.
"How was your game?" asked Eleanora, referring to their annual neighborhood game of platform tennis over at Westerly, the Winslows' next-door estate.
"The Winslows whooped our asses," said Barrett, joining his father and brothers. "J.C. and Étienne played with me and Fitz. Dad played with Alex, Strat, and Wes."
"Yes!" cried Jessica Winslow English, raising her fists in victory. Then, catching sight of her husband Alex's surprised expression, lowered them sheepishly and sprinted across the room to kiss him.
"So Ten lost, huh?" said Kate, standing up and stretching with a grimace. "I'm due for supper at Chateau Nouvelle. See you all later?"
Her friends and family kissed her good-bye, waving as she slipped out of the living room.
"Is anyone hungry?" asked Eleanora, smiling at her gaggle of sons. "Because I believe breakfast-for-dinner is ready."
Emily, Daisy, and Valeria stood up and grabbed their men en route to the dining room, led by Jessica and Alex. Molly lingered for just a moment, holding out her hands to Eleanora, then leaning forward to kiss her future mother-in-law's cheek.
"Thank you again for telling us," she said. "It was a wonderful story."
"You're welcome," said Eleanora, flicking her glance to the foyer entrance, where Tom and Weston looked on. "I think someone's waiting for you."
"And for you," said Molly, dropping Eleanora's hands and turning to her fiancé, Weston, who took her hand and led her toward the dining room.
Tom took off his carmel-colored cashmere coat, laying it over the back of the couch as he approached her, his hair more white than blond now, his face weathered, his smile just as handsome as it was on the day he asked her the name of her favorite poet in a Colorado diner. He held out his arms, and she slipped into them, as she always had, as she always would.
Taking a quick look, to be sure no English brothers lingered in the vestibule, he kissed their mother soundly, stealing her breath, as he had a million times before.
"Good evening, sunshine?" he asked, grinning down at her.
"The best," she answered. "They're wonderful girls."
"You raised wonderful boys," he said, kissing her again.
"I love you tons."
"I love you back."
She looked behind him at the decorated Christmas tree.
"It's our thirty-fifth," she said, smiling up at him.
"And every one better than the last."
She touched his cheek tenderly. "I saved the last one for you."
He grinned as he let her go, watching as she reached for one final ornament, waiting on the mantel, and handed it to him.
Tom looked down at the cut-glass ornament in his hands, reading the words Eleanora had had engraved on it for their second Christmas together, when Barrett was just three months old.
You and me ~ a dream and a miracle.
"We were," he said, gazing at her timeless loveliness before hanging the glass carefully on the highest branch.
"We are," she whispered, kissing him once more before taking his hand and following their gaggle of sons into dinner.
THE END
Did you love Tom and Eleanora's story? Now it's time to read about their five sexy sons-Barrett, Fitz, Alex, Stratton, and Weston-and their lovely cousin, Kate!
The English Brothers
(Part 1 of The Blueberry Lane Series!)
Breaking Up with Barrett
Download BREAKING UP WITH BARRETT for free now!
Falling for Fitz
Buy FALLING FOR FITZ now!
Anyone but Alex
Buy ANYONE BUT ALEX now!
Seduced by Stratton
Buy SEDUCED BY STRATTON now!
Wild about Weston
Buy WILD ABOUT WESTON now!
Kiss Me Kate
Buy KISS ME KATE now!
Marrying Mr. English
Thank you for reading!
(Excerpt from Breaking Up with Barrett: The English Brothers #1)
Chapter 1
Barrett English.
Emily's heart kicked into a gallop as she looked down at the caller ID on her buzzing phone. Trying to steady her suddenly shallow breathing, she closed her eyes for a brief second before pushing back from the coffee shop table where the rest of her study group continued to discuss early-American industrialization.
"Be right back," she whispered to her roommate, Valeria, and ducked out the back door of the café into an empty alley.
"Hello?"
"Mr. English for Miss Edwards?"
"Okay."
A moment later his smooth, polished baritone voice came on the line. "Good afternoon, Emily. Thank you for picking up."
"I was at study group," she said, leaning against a brick wall and cringing at the way she made it sound like his call wasn't welcome.
"I'm sorry to interrupt you."
"N-no. It's fine," she answered quickly, wiping her sweaty hands on her jeans as she sandwiched the phone between her shoulder and ear. Damn it, she wished she could be cooler, but her mind always went blank the moment she heard the low rumble of his voice.