“She had died in another city before I arrived in Silver Town, so I took on the role of his sister, pretending to have just arrived to help Warren by taking care of the household and budget. We made up this far-fetched story about how Clarinda O’Brien had lived there and run off. No one had ever ‘seen’ her, so we figured if John learned someone was living with Warren, he wouldn’t suspect it was me. Just their sister. As long as he didn’t come and see Warren and me. I wanted so badly to get in touch with my sons, but I was afraid John would learn of it and kill me for it.”
“What about Elroy Summers?” Darien asked.
“He made me the furniture—free of charge, which upset Warren since he loved me. He hated to pretend I was his sister. And he hated that I couldn’t mate him. Then Sheridan…” She glanced in CJ’s direction. “He somehow learned I wasn’t who I said I was. He sent me a blackmail note. I showed it to Warren, but I didn’t want him to pay Sheridan. I was certain Sheridan would keep asking for more money to maintain my secret. Then everything fell apart at once. Warren disappeared, and though I went in search of him, I couldn’t find him. I tried to manage the hotel, but then Sheridan sent me another blackmail note. I tucked it into the secret compartment in the highboy and ran.”
“Why would Elroy’s son think something was hidden in your chest that would cause problems for his dad?” Laurel asked.
“I suspect one of the two men—Elroy or John—killed Warren,” Clarinda said.
“Our father didn’t do it,” Stanton said. “You ran off and it had nothing to do with Dad being abusive. He never was abusive.”
“Not with you. But with me, he was,” Clarinda said gently.
“You lie. Dad said—”
“Your father told you what he wanted you to hear. That I was a bad mother. That I abandoned you because I didn’t want children. All lies. I loved you. Leaving you was the hardest thing for me to do. I wanted to die. But I wanted to live too, hopeful that someday I could hold you again in my arms as a mother would. I knew if I had taken you with me, I wouldn’t have gotten far. He would have killed me for sure.
“He adored the three of you. I knew he would raise you well. He poisoned you against me. I never could return to see you. And now he’s dead, but you’ve decided to believe what he said about me. I had hoped it would be otherwise. Despite not wanting to have to let you go, I’ve come to terms with this.”
“By rights, the hotel is still ours,” Stanton said.
“It would go to John’s mate, since he’s deceased, if she had paid the taxes, although we would have made arrangements to resolve the situation to everyone’s satisfaction if the MacTire sisters hadn’t already bought and renovated it,” Darien said. “That means Clarinda Wernicke would have owned it.”
“If I had owned it, I would gladly have given you the hotel, if my nieces hadn’t bought it with their hard-earned money and renovated it so beautifully. Not only that, but they had every intention of learning what had happened to me and bringing my murderer to justice. And so, the hotel is theirs. I didn’t know John had died recently or I would have already revealed who I was to them.”
“Our mother didn’t know what had happened to you,” Laurel said.
“No, dear. I couldn’t even tell my beloved sister or hug my nieces one last time.”
“I don’t believe this. You’re a habitual liar,” Stanton said. “Father told us you’d say anything if we ever saw you again so that you’d look like the innocent in all this. I can’t believe you’d drag his name through the mud. For what? Just so you looked like the sweet, adoring mother who was fighting for her life?”
“Give it up, Stanton,” Vernon said, sounding so angry, Laurel knew it was going to get physical between the brothers. Stanton was their leader, and he wouldn’t take any guff from his brothers.
Stanton turned on his brother and growled. But Vernon’s fist shot out so fast and connected with Stanton’s jaw so hard that he knocked Stanton on his ass before he could react.
Everyone looked as shocked as Laurel felt, not expecting Vernon to win the confrontation. But she was damn glad he had.
Vernon swallowed hard, rubbing his hand that had to hurt like hell after hitting his brother’s iron jaw with so much force, and then he stalked toward Clarinda. Everyone was watching him closely, ensuring he didn’t attack her, but he got on his knees in front of her, laid his head in her lap, and hugged her. “Mom,” he said in a choked sob.
Laurel swore there wasn’t a dry eye among all the wolves gathered. Family meant everything to them. CJ offered his hand to Stanton to help him up, and the hardheaded wolf accepted it, stood, and then waited while Yolan gently pulled his mother to standing and gave her a hug.
Looking like a teen with attitude, Stanton stalked across the floor to join them. Everyone was still tense, just in case, as Yolan stepped back to allow Stanton time with their mother. “I’m sorry.” With tears in his eyes, he kissed his mother’s cheek and pulled her into his arms to give her a hug.
“The fault is not yours,” she said softly to him, but Laurel was close enough that she heard.
“The hotel is my nieces’, your cousins’, but when I die, the candy store, which is very profitable, will be yours.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Stanton said and hugged her again. “We’ll make it up to you—for what our father did to you and to us by forcing you to run.”
Laurel joined CJ. He immediately took her into his arms and held her tight, making her feel warm and well loved.
She whispered, “When we’re done here, I want to get a tree and decorate for Christmas. I want to have a Christmas celebration with your brothers, my sisters, the Silver cousins and their mates, my aunt, and the Wernicke cousins, if they want to join us.”
He smiled. “We’ve got our work cut out for us.”
“But it’s good work for a good cause.”
* * *
Three days later, Laurel and CJ were enjoying a grand celebration. The Christmas tree was clothed in Victorian style with burgundy velvet garland; gold, silver, green, and burgundy balls; and twinkly lights—and her sisters were helping to prepare the main meal of hickory-smoked ham and potatoes.
Aunt Clarinda had made all the heavenly chocolates that their mother fixed when she was alive, and Laurel realized it was a family tradition that she and her sisters had to carry on. Lelandi helped bake some special bread; Tom’s wife, Elizabeth, was fixing mistletoe margaritas; and Jake’s wife, Alicia, was preparing the greens for the meal.
Laurel hoped the men were getting along. At first, it was quiet, and then they began to talk about guy kinds of things—hunting, fishing, boating, camping.
The women talked about all kinds of things—babies, the hotel and the sisters’ plans for it, like renovating the basement and turning the maids’ quarters into more rooms.
Laurel paused while carving the ham and turned to face her aunt. “Aunt Clarinda, you never told Mom about your mate or that you had three sons.”
Her aunt shook her head. “It was a whirlwind romance and mating. But he was a brutal man. I tried to run away twice, and he caught me and beat me for it. At that point, I was pregnant and afraid I’d lose my babies. So I ‘behaved.’ When I gave him three adorable little boys, I thought he’d be happy with me.” She snorted.
“It didn’t work that way. I learned later, too late, that he’d had an abusive father. Not toward him, but toward his mother. He wouldn’t let me get in touch with your mother. I sent a letter, and then that postcard was the second time I’d been able to send her a note. I was so happy with Warren, but…”
Laurel set down the carving knife and fork and gave her aunt a hug. “We’re so glad you’re alive and well and part of the family again.”
“You don’t know how glad I am.”
Ellie asked, “Do you know anything about the stencil-type letter on the wall in the main lobby area of the hotel?”
“That’s Chrissy’s doing. She was a maid who died from a raging fever, and she still hangs around the place. She created a beautiful quilt with the letter C on it, and I thought her talents were wasted on working as a maid at the hotel.”