The Sextet Presents… By Male Order [In Days of Olde] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (9 page)

“I don’t love this town,” she snapped, dragging her fingers through her tangled hair.

“Ye care naught for the people of this town? Ye care naught for this farm?”

She shook her head.

“Then why are ye so worried about what they think of ye?”

“I have nowhere else to go.” She hurried from the room to face whatever disaster waited below.

* * * *

A pair of her boots rested by the door. Hope shoved her feet inside, trying to don them quickly.

“Hope? You in there?”

“Damn it.”
Abe Driscoll
. The absolute last person she’d ever want to see. “I’m coming!”

His footsteps sounded on her porch stairs. She couldn’t let him come inside. No doubt if her shoes had been left behind at the lake so had the men’s’ clothes. Then she recalled neither had worn a shirt. If Abe came inside, he’d know
exactly
what had happened last night.

This just kept getting worse.

“Hope?”

Hope pulled the door open and then pushed the screen door hard enough to hit Abe, knocking his hat from his head. He’d come uninvited, so she felt no need to apologize. Instead, she stepped out onto her porch and waited while he retrieved his hat and slapped it back on his head. “Why have you come all the way out here?”

“Not to get my nose broke, I can tell you that.”

Folding her arms under her breasts, she hugged herself. Abe was a tall man, and he used that height the same way Billy always liked to—by leaning over her. She wanted to resist his intimidation, but it was hard. She felt so small, so defenseless.

The worry was shoved aside. She might be tiny, but she was strong.

Hope straightened her spine and met his glare. “You shouldn’t have been trying to come inside my home uninvited. Then the door wouldn’t have hit you—or your nose.”

Abe set his hands on his hips. “You owe me an apology.”

“You owe me an explanation. State your business then go.”

His gaze wandered the porch and yard before settling on the scorched grass. “You had a fire. Looks like you stopped it early. Could’ve taken your barn. Maybe even the house. Then where would you be?”

The lack of concern in his voice raised her ire. “It was merely a nuisance born of the dry spell. We put it out before it got anywhere near my barn or house.”

“We?” He looked to the barn and frowned. “Where are your farmhands?”

Her face flushed hot, and before she could stop herself, she glanced back at the door.

“They’re in your house?” His voice had a hard edge.

“That’s none of your affair. Tell why you’re here or leave. I have work to do.”

The moment the eruption began, Hope instinctively took a big step back. Abe’s face turned red as a beet, and he sputtered in anger as he snatched the hat from his head and slammed it to the porch. “I’m damn sick and tired of you putting me off, Hope!”

“And I tire of you trying to force me into selling you my farm.”

“I’m offering marriage, damn it. Maybe if you married me, you could save your reputation.” He tried to look around her at the screen door. “Living in sin with
two
men? What in the hell are you thinking, woman?”

Hope had known there was talk, but she’d ignored those worries. What she did was between her and God and not fodder for the gossip mill.

Would He understand what had happened between her, Alec, and Thomas?

She didn’t have time to ponder that at the moment. “I’m thinking that I can live my life as I see fit.”

“You need me!” Abe insisted, his face ruddy with anger.

“Ye’re wrong,” Alec said, stepping out onto the porch with Thomas right behind. “She doesnae need anyone, save herself.”

Abe’s eyes narrowed, and his hands fisted. “I knew it! I
knew
everyone was right! You’re a whore, Hope Adams! Nothing but a common whore!”

With a ferocious growl, Alec swung at Abe, landing a solid punch to his nose that was followed by a sickening crunch. Abe stumbled back until he hit the porch stairs, then he tumbled down them, landing in a heap in the dust. Blood was already trickling from his nostrils, and his nose had shifted, taking on a funny angle.

“Get off my land,” Hope said, putting her arm out to stop Alec from leaving the porch. “Get off my land and don’t you ever come back.”

Wiping the back of his hand under his bloody nose, Abe slowly got to his feet, faltering a bit as though he were dizzy. It took him two tries to mount his stallion. As he reined the horse around, he shot Hope one last glower. “This ain’t over, Hope.”

“Yes, Abe, it is.”

Thomas’s stomach had tied itself in nervous knots. Had Alec not stepped up to defend Hope, he would have. Fighting wasn’t easy for him, and he’d discovered at an early age it was better to walk away than to use his fists. But the moment Abe had slurred Hope, Thomas had been ready to act. Once Alec took a swing, Thomas swallowed his own anger. Alec was a damned fine fighter, and he hadn’t disappointed, delivering a blow that Abe Driscoll wouldn’t easily forget.

Hope didn’t say a word, although her face was full of emotion. Fear. Anger. She strode into the house, and Thomas followed, glad that Alec did as well.

She stopped at the hearth, her back to them and her arms wrapped around her waist again as if she could comfort herself. Her head hung low.

Thomas stepped behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. He had no clue what to say. He and Alec had spent most of their time at the farm, visiting Clearbrook only a handful of times, so he wasn’t sure how much Abe’s accusation and talk of gossip had hurt her. She’d never given them any indication she had strong friendships with the townsfolk. Yet he also knew well the sting of being the topic of such cruel talk.

“Hope? What are you thinking?” he asked.

She gave her head a small shake.

“Love, I want—”

Whirling to face him, she shouted, “Don’t call me that!”

Her anger was so strong Thomas almost took a step back. “Call you what?”

She shook her head again and tried to move away.

Not only would Thomas not let her go, Alec flanked her other side. “Call you what, Hope?” Thomas asked again.

A tear slid down her cheek. “I’m not your love. Don’t call me that.”

The vulnerability she showed him allowed him to make himself vulnerable too. “But you
are
my love.”

Her eyes searched his as a few more tears spilled over her lashes. “No…no, I’m no fool. You love Alec. He’s the one you should call ‘love.’”

“I do call him ‘love.’” Thomas cupped her face in his palms and wiped her tears away with his thumbs. “Yes, I love Alec. But I love
you
, too.”

Hope took a ragged breath.

When she tried to shake her head, he held her fast and brushed a kiss over her lips. “I love you, Hope.”

“As do I,” Alec said, taking her hand in his and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

Her gaze shifted, locking with Alec’s.

“I love ye, Hope,” Alec reaffirmed.

How odd there was no jealousy. Thomas had always believed Alec was the love of his life and thought Alec felt the same. Yet as Alec avowed his love for Hope, Thomas wasn’t jealous because he understood. Hope wasn’t stealing away Alec’s affection—she was enhancing it. Thomas loved them both with every piece of his heart, and that somehow made him…
complete
.

Shocked by the voracity of his feelings, Thomas swallowed hard. His life had been unconventional before. He was a man who loved another man. The road was already far too rocky.

But now he was a man who loved a man—
and
a woman. Now the road was not only rocky but entirely uphill. People would never accept a three-way relationship.

Clearbrook was evidently agog. If Abe Driscoll was to be believed, the fair citizens of the town were passing rumors about them. Although they weren’t really
rumors
now…

Thomas stood at a crossroads in his life. The time had come to move on and leave judgmental Clearbrook behind.

But with whom?

Alec was in love with Hope. Not only were the feelings plain in his words, Thomas knew Alec well. He truly loved her. If Thomas left, would Alec follow? Would Hope?

Thomas kissed her again then shifted to kiss Alec as well. “I love you both.”

“As I love ye,” Alec replied. He smiled at Hope. “And ye.”

“Hope?” Thomas wasn’t sure he was ready for her response, but he had to know. “Do you love us?”

Alec was sure his terror was hidden in his expression. He needed Hope to answer honestly. He didn’t want her to claim she loved them when she was only responding to his fear. Her nature was so gentle and her heart so kind she was likely to say anything to ease his anxiety.

Yet he couldn’t keep himself from prodding. “Do ye love us, lass?”

Long seconds passed before Hope pulled her hand back. “We have so much work to do.”

When she pushed her way between them and kept walking, Thomas started after her.

Alec grabbed his arm. “Wait.”

“Wait? Why? We need an answer, damn it!”

“We might need answers, but she needs some time.”

“Time? What are you talking about?”

Alec knew Thomas’s temper was slow to ignite, but once alive it could burn gloriously hot. Right now, the last thing Hope needed was them questioning her. “We’ve pushed too hard, Thomas. Let her breathe for a spell. Her husband was a monster, and she needs to heal from the wounds he left on her soul. If we press her to open up when she isnae ready, we risk losing her.”

Long minutes passed before Thomas heaved a sigh. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right.”

“I believe that’s the first time you’ve ever told me that.” Alec winked, hoping to ease the tension.

A smile twitched Thomas’s lips.

“Come. The lass is right. We have chores. And there’s always tonight. Did Hope nae invite us into her bed from now on?”

* * * *

Hope caught herself glancing over her shoulder every other minute, expecting Alec and Thomas to join her for another bath. They had to be every bit as grimy as she’d been from trying to complete a day’s worth of chores in a few short hours, especially in the sweltering heat. If they planned to sleep on her clean linens, they would
have
to bathe. Cleanliness was important to her.

Would they want to share her bed again?

She feared Abe Driscoll’s intrusion might have scared them off. Surely they didn’t wish to be the subjects of Clearbrook gossip. She’d stopped caring long ago what the good people of that benighted little town thought of her, although she hated being discussed behind her back. If she had, she never would have found the courage to write her uncle and beg for his help finding men like Alec and Thomas.

Her uncle was either as unaware as the townsfolk or absolutely brilliant. Did he know that Alec and Thomas desired men, but that they also desired women? She could almost picture his shocked priestly expression if he knew what she’d shared with them.

No
. He, of all people, might understand. He was the most forgiving person she’d ever known.

She’d taken advantage of the pond to not only wash but to clean her work clothes. Wearing only a fresh shirt and skirt, Hope draped her wet clothes over the clothesline, a bit concerned that the men’s wet things weren’t there. After a hard day, they usually washed their clothes and hung them out to dry. Their fastidious nature had always appealed to her. Most men—including Billy—weren’t concerned about being clean, caring little about how offensive their body odor and filthy clothes might be to others.

Supper would be nothing more than salt pork and some bread left from yesterday evening. The animals’ welfare took precedence over her own meals, and her day had been spent caring for them as she tried to catch up with chores.

Hauling water had been the hardest task. August had taken its toll, and while no one would tempt fate by uttering the word “drought,” the area was clearly affected by the lack of rain. After the brushfire the day before, Hope kept a vigilant eye, searching for any sign of smoke. She made sure the animals had plenty of water, and she checked the storage barrels to be sure they were full.

Kicking off her muddy boots, she stepped into her home and gaped at what she saw. Expecting to be greeted by darkness, she found candles lit and waiting on the table.

Such a romantic scene
.

“Alec? Thomas? Where are you?”

“Upstairs,” Thomas called. “Our room.”

Our room
.

Hope couldn’t contain a grin.

The floor squeaked as she moved across the smooth boards. Holding tight to the banister, she looked up to the second floor. It was dark, and the mystery made her heartbeat speed. There was no fear—something that came as a surprise. She’d learned her lesson well on the folly of trusting men. But those lessons didn’t seem to apply to Alec and Thomas.

They were luring her upstairs into a dark bedroom, and she wasn’t frightened. Instead, her nipples tightened, and her cunny filled with heat, growing damp as she pondered what new pleasures they could bring her.

She climbed the steps, moving skillfully around anything in her way. Her candle-making skills were not the best, and whale oil was too expensive, so she knew her way around in the dark quite well. When she reached the door to her bedroom, she stopped and smiled.

The windows were open, allowing in the slight breeze and the light of the waxing moon. Both men were waiting in bed, kneeling in the middle with arms open in invitation. Their cocks were hard, ready, and their hair was wet, as though they’d recently bathed.

Folding her arms over her breasts, Hope leaned a shoulder against the doorframe and tried to affect a nonchalant façade. Hard to do when her heart was slamming in her rib cage and she was close to squirming with desire.