"TXT - Jude Deveraux - Matchmakers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Deveraux Jude)

BOOK II

MATCHMAKERS

There was a console telephone on Kane Taggert's desk with six buttons on it, every one of which was lit up, but when his private line rang, he put line number six on hold and answered it. His private line was for his family and anyone who had anything to do with his two young sons.

"Mom," he said, turning in his chair and looking at the New York skyline, "what an unexpected pleasure." He didn't ask, but he knew his mother wanted or needed something, because she didn't call him while the stock exchange was open if she just wanted to chat.

"I have a favor to ask of you."

Kane didn't groan, but he wanted to. Five months ago his twin brother had gotten married, and since then his mother had been relentless in her attempts to get Kane, her widower son, married.

"I think you need a vacation."

At that Kane did groan. Looking at his switchboard, he saw line number four start to blink, meaning Tokyo was about to hang up. "Out with it, Mom," he said. "What torture have you planned for me now?"

"Your father isn't feeling well and—"
"I'll be there—"
"No, no, it's nothing like that. It's just that his soft heart has put him in a bit of a pickle and I've promised to get him out of it."
This was a common occurrence in his parents' household. His father often volunteered to help people, and volunteered so generously that he took on too much, did too much. In her attempt to protect him, his wife often had to play the bad guy and unvolunteer him.
"What's he done now?" Kane said as light number four went off.
"You know how our neighbor Clem"—she was explaining who Clem was to emphasize that it had been so long since Kane had been home that he might have forgotten a man he'd known all his life—"often takes easterners on camping trips? Well, last month he took six men and, well, it was a bit rough on him. Clem's getting on in years now, and those climbs are hard on him."
Kane didn't say a word. Clem was as strong and as wiry as a mustang, and Kane well knew that Clem's health had nothing whatever to do with what his mother wanted her son to do.
"Anyway, your father said he'd take the next group of easterners."
Clem was also part con man so if he'd conned Ian Taggert into taking the next group, there was a reason. "That bad, huh?" Kane asked. "A real bunch of jerks, were they?"
Pat Taggert sighed. "The worst. Complainers. Afraid of the horses. The boss had 'requested' that they go, and they didn't want to be there."
"The worst kind. So what's Clem conned Dad into this time?"
Kane heard some anger in Pat's voice when she spoke. "It seems that Clem knew his next group of tourists was from this same company, only, Kane .. ."
"What's the bad news?"
"They're women! Clem knew this, and he's asked your
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father to spend two weeks leading four reluctant New York women on a trail ride. Can you imagine! Oh, Kane, you can't—"
At that Kane began to laugh. "Mom, you are never going to win an Academy Award for acting, so you can cut it out. So you want me, your widower son—your poor, lonely widower son—to spend two weeks alone with four nubile young women and maybe find a mother for his sons."
"In a word, yes," Pat said, annoyed. "How do you expect to meet anyone if you spend all your time working? All four of these women live in New York City where both you and Mike have chosen to live and—"
Unspoken words were sizzling through the telephone lines about how Kane and his brother had left the family home and taken grandbabies away from their grandparents.
"The answer is an unequivocal no," Kane said. "No! That's it, Mom. I can find my own women without any matchmaking on your part."
"All right," Pat said, sighing. "Go answer your telephones." At that she hung up, and for a moment Kane stared at the phone, frowning. He'd have to send her flowers and maybe a piece of jewelry. Even as he thought that, he knew that flowers and jewelry were a poor substitute for grandchildren.
He didn't get home until eight that evening, and by then his sister-in-law, Samantha, had his twin sons neatly tucked away in their beds. His brother Mike was at the gym, so he and Sam were alone, and after Kane had returned from kissing his sleepy sons, he met her in the living room. She was hugely pregnant, her hand seeming to be permanently attached to her lower back as she ambled about the town house taking care of two men and two active five-year-olds. Kane had his own apartment in New York, a barren place that for the most part was filled with kids' toys, and he had a place in his parents' house in Colorado, but after his brother had introduced him to Samantha, Kane and his sons had gradually moved into Mike's town house. That was Sam's
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doing, Kane thought. Sam had wanted a family, and if that was what Sam wanted, then Mike was going to give it to her.
Without asking, Sam brought Kane a beer in a cold mug and handed it to him. A thousand times he'd told her that she shouldn't wait on him, but Sam had a very hard head. Setting the beer down, he got up and went to lower her into one of Mike's fat leather chairs. She wasn't heavy, but she was as unwieldy as a dirigible.
"Thanks," she said, then nodded toward his beer. "Defeats the purpose of my waiting on you if you have to get up to help me, doesn't it?"
Smiling at her, he sat down and drank half the beer in one gulp. Sometimes he wanted what his brother had so badly that it was like a flame that threatened to burn him up. He wanted a wife who loved him and his sons, wanted a home of his own; he wanted to stop living vicariously through his brother.
"Out with it," Sam said.
"Out with what?"
"You can't lie any better than Mike can. What's bothering you?"
You, he wanted to say. Loving my sister-in-law, beginning to hate my brother.
"Kane," Sam said, "stop looking at me like that and talk to me. Tell me what's bothering you."