The Father of Her Sons by Christine Rimmer

Author:Christine Rimmer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2021-08-10T18:23:29+00:00

* * *

Joyce and Myron Wright’s beautiful gray-shingled Dutch Colonial sat at the top of a winding cobbled walk on a broad, tree-lined street in the heart of Washington Park.

“Nice place to grow up,” Payton remarked as they went up the walk to the deep, inviting front porch.

The carved mahogany door swung open just as they reached it. A pretty older woman with a short blond bob and a giant smile greeted them. “You’re here! Come in, come in...” She stepped back and they entered a foyer, beyond which was a white living room with coffered ceilings and tall windows looking out on mature trees and lush plantings. This year, fall had come late. The trees still had their leaves, many resplendent in the colors of autumn lit beautifully by in-ground and overhead lights.

“Hello,” said the tall, graying man who stood a few feet behind the blonde woman. “I’m Myron.”

“I’m Joyce!” the woman announced excitedly. “And you are Payton. So good to meet you.” She turned to Easton. “Son...”

“Hey, Mom.” He hugged her.

“Come on in,” said the other man, Easton’s twin. The two were as identical as Bailey and Penn, though Weston had longer hair and a certain devilish glint in his eyes.

“Take off your coats,” said Myron, “and let’s get comfortable in the living room.”

A few minutes later, they all sat around the giant fireplace, where a cheery fire burned. Myron served drinks as they shared getting-to-know-you chitchat.

Payton found herself relaxing. Joyce and Myron were nice people. They seemed thrilled that Easton had brought a girlfriend home. As for Weston, Payton liked him, too. Easton’s twin had a wicked sense of humor and he seemed as genuine as his brother—yet not quite so preppy somehow, and definitely more easygoing. A beautiful family, she thought.

Eventually, they moved into the dining room off the enormous chef-worthy kitchen. It was all going beautifully. Payton could laugh at herself now for ever being anxious about this meeting.

Myron said he hoped to get Payton and Easton out on the new boat he’d bought. “We can make a day of it,” he said, “have a picnic on the water.”

Joyce said how pleased she was that Easton had found someone special. “I swear, Payton. In the past few years, I’ve wondered if either of the boys will ever—”

“Mom,” Easton warned.

Weston backed him up. “East’s right, Mom. Don’t go there.”

Joyce laughed and her husband patted her hand. “Well,” she said. “I am glad you’re here, Payton. I’ll leave it at that.”

Myron said, “I understand you help run the family farm and also write books...?”

She slid a glance at Easton. “What have you been telling them?”

“Not enough.” Joyce sent her older son a reproachful glance. “Just that he met you five years ago and ran into you again when he started the Heartwood Inn project—and about your family’s farm and that you’re a writer.”

“And how glad he was to see you again,” added Myron.

Joyce beamed. “Yes—though we would have guessed that, anyway. He hasn’t brought anyone special to meet us in years.

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