Letters to Caroline (The Talmadge Sisters Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

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  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

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  LETTERS TO CAROLINE

  The Talmadge Sisters, Book One

  Barbara McMahon

  www.barbaramcmahon.com

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  Letters to Caroline

  Copyright © 2020 Barbara McMahon

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  Chapter One

  The insistent rapping on the brass knocker added urgency to Caroline's rapid crossing of the wide foyer. Her stocking-clad feet made no sound on the cold expanse of marble. She ignored the discomfort. Her heart felt just as cold. She thought the last mourner had departed only moments ago. Had they forgotten something?

  She was tired—too tired to deal with much more. The entire last six weeks had been emotionally draining. Today's funeral had been the final straw. She thought she'd melt in the unseasonably warm February sun. Louisiana was supposed to cool down a bit in winter. Of course, nothing else had gone right over the last few weeks, why should she have expected anything different today?

  She longed to crawl into bed and forget everything at least for the night!

  Opening the door, she tried for a semblance of a smile. Only to have her efforts freeze when she saw the last person on the face of the earth she expected to see—Brandon Madison.

  A tidal wave of emotions surged through her. Disbelief, anger, sorrow and hurt combined with a hint of disbelieving joy. She stared at her husband, unable to say a word.

  Whatever was he doing here? Or were her eyes playing tricks on her? Was she losing her mind?

  After ignoring her for five years was he truly standing on the doorstep large as life and twice as sexy?

  "Hello, Caroline," he said in a voice she'd never forgotten. "Going somewhere?"

  He looked at her black dress, the single strand of pearls, the neatly sleeked-back hair, then the bare feet. His glance gave nothing away. He'd always been good at not letting his emotions show.

  Slowly her gaze mimicked his and traced over him from his dark conservatively cut hair to the tips of his shiny wing tips as if she sought to imprint every detail on her mind. He looked older, of course. And harder, like tempered steel.

  She had an eye for fabric and style—his suit looked as if it'd cost more than her monthly rent and his shoes almost as much. He looked toned, healthy and as successful as he'd always yearned to be.

  Success, she remembered instantly, had been vitally important to him. Obviously he'd attained what he wanted.

  But at what cost?

  For a moment a sharp pain in her heart almost buckled her knees. She gripped the doorknob tighter, depending on it as if it were a lifeline. It'd been half a decade since their brief seven-month marriage ended.

  If someone had asked her yesterday, she'd have sworn she was long over Brandon Madison. She'd put him and their life together behind her and moved on. She liked her life now and wouldn't go back even if she could.

  Her unexpected feelings at seeing him disproved that.

  She glared at him. What they had was over long ago. Yet, one look at the man and old feelings began to resurface.

  The primary ones being hurt and betrayal—and an overwhelming sadness from the death of a dream.

  "This is a surprise, Brandon. What are you doing here?" she asked as he continued to stand on the wide veranda. She wanted to slam the door in his face as if that would slam a lid on the churning memories that bubbled up.

  Proper behavior, drilled into her from infancy, kept her from acting so rudely.

  "I came to see you."

  The even tone in his voice was nothing like the hot passionate tone he'd used in the dark of night when it had been the two of them against the world.

  Before he'd let her down.

  Before he'd ignored her, blamed her, turned from her to make work the most important focus of his life—even more important than his own wife.

  "I don't want to see you."

  It sounded childish. She didn't care—she only wanted him gone. Hadn't she endured enough past and present to get a bit of a break?

  "You've made that perfectly clear over the years. It's time to—"

  "Who is it, Caroline?" Michelle entered the foyer from the living room.

  She, too, was dressed in black. Her high heels clicked on the marble floor. "Well, I declare. Brandon!"

  She stopped and stared at the man in surprise. "We didn't expect you."

  "Michelle."

  He nodded briefly in acknowledgment, his eyes taking in the difference between the sisters and the similarities. Caroline was older by eighteen months, but several inches shorter than her slender younger sister. Both had deep blue eyes, but Caroline's hair was a dark brown while Michelle's was a rich deep auburn.

  "What're you doing here?" Michelle asked, glancing between her sister and Brandon. If she sensed the tension, she gave no sign.

  Caroline started to turn, wondering if her knees would support her if she let go of the door. Wishing she dare slam it shut, bolt it and pretend she'd never seen the man, she refrained. Old lessons were hard to ignore.

  She so didn't need this today of all days!

  "I asked him the same thing. Apparently he's here to see me," she said irritated. She'd thought the worst was over, that there'd be some peace at last. Was she never to have a moment's serenity again?

  Michelle smiled in polite welcome. "We didn't expect you, Brandon. How did you hear?"

  Brandon glanced from one sister to the other, narrowing his eyes in assessment. Suddenly things began to add up. He hadn't risen as swiftly as he had in business by ignoring obvious clues.

  He looked at Caroline. "A death in the family?"

  She nodded. "Grandmother."

  "I didn't know."

  Brandon had come to see Caroline, to resolve the issue they'd ignored for five years. Their marriage was over and it was time to formally end it. He had the divorce papers in his pocket not trusting the mail since she had a habit of returning letters unopened.

  Normally his timing was perfect. Apparently not today.

  "That explains your opening the door," he said. "Eugenia would never have let that menial task be performed by a member of her illustrious family." Bitter animosity colored his words. He never liked Caroline's grandmother.

  "I don't need your sarcasm. Grandmother's help was given the week off. Of course I opened the door."

  "We're the only ones here. Come in," Michelle said. "No sense letting all the cool air escape. It's hot as Hades outside. Early February and it feels like July! I thought I'd melt at the cemetery."

 
Brandon glanced at Caroline—raising an eyebrow he waited for her to speak. He was startled to find her looking so pale and thin.

  What had she been doing over the last five years? Besides ignoring his attempts to get in touch with her?

  For a moment, he felt a hint of concern. Ruthlessly damping down on the unexpected feeling, he reminded himself why he'd come. What they had ended. She was no longer his concern.

  She'd had endless opportunities to contact him, to respond to his attempts to reach her. Her refusal to deal with him, made her position crystal clear and relieved him of any guilt at the way things turned out.

  Once she signed the papers, once the divorce went through, he need never see her again.

  "Come in, then," she said reluctantly. "I can't imagine why you chose today to show up."

  "When did Eugenia die?" Brandon asked stepping inside and pushing the door closed behind him.

  Caroline released the knob before she came in contact with Brandon, glad to see her knees worked. Only, with the door shut, the foyer seemed to shrink. Taking a step back to put some distance between them, she frowned as she studied him.

  She didn't want Brandon here. She didn't want to see him. She didn't need any more emotional turmoil. And especially didn't want to feel the mixed feelings his presence unleashed. There was enough on her plate now with her grandmother's death and her ramblings before she died. Caroline didn't need anything more to deal with.

  "She died Thursday night. We just came from the funeral a little while ago. You missed the wake," Michelle said. "Half the town was here. Some were grandmother's friends, others I think just wanted to crash the party to see the house."

  "What are y'all doing out here?" Abby Talmadge stopped in the doorway and looked at the group. Her face lit with delight when she spotted Brandon. Spontaneously she dashed across the floor and flung her arms around his neck exuberantly.

  "Brandon! What a surprise! How wonderful!"

  Almost as tall as Michelle, Abby looked totally unlike either of her two older sisters. Her ash-blond hair seemed at odds with the darker shades of her sisters'. But her smile was pure Talmadge, along with her deep blue eyes.

  Caroline watched, wishing she dare yank her younger sister away and send her to her room. Abby had always had a warm spot in her heart for Brandon. Five years ago at seventeen, she'd considered him totally romantic. Even now, after all that had transpired, she obviously continued to harbor warm feelings for him.

  Traitor, Caroline thought. Then felt stricken. It wasn't her sister's fault she liked Brandon. Abby didn't know the entire story. Her heart hadn't been broken, her life left in tatters.

  And whose fault was it that she didn't know, a voice inside asked. Caroline never told the full story to anyone but her grandmother.

  Had things been different, had Brandon followed her, contacted her years ago—?

  No! She refused to even think along those lines. He hadn't. End of that story. She'd moved on. She has a great career, friends. That chapter of her past was behind her.

  Except—for a split second Caroline wished she could feel the warmth of his arms holding her, could lean against his hard body, draw on his strength. Just once more. She was so tired.

  And she felt so alone. There were decisions to be made and she wasn't entirely sure how to proceed. Should she tell her sisters the revelation her grandmother had rambled on about or look into it to see if there was any truth to the matter?

  "So did you come to help settle the estate?" Abby asked excitedly. "We've missed you, haven't we?" Her gaze swept the others in the foyer. Her bright smile hard to resist.

  "No." Caroline said quickly, glaring at Brandon. "There's no need for you to be here. We've managed without you for years. We can certainly manage another death in the family without your help."

  Abby looked stunned at the harsh tone.

  Michelle blinked, her watchful gaze moving back and forth between her sister and Brandon.

  No one ever mentioned that. Not in all the years since Caroline returned home.

  The tightening in Brandon's jaw was the only sign he heard. His expression gave no hint what he thought.

  "I came to talk to you. The timing may be inconvenient, but I'm not leaving until you and I sit down and talk."

  Something held back the scathing words he'd planned to say once he saw Caroline face-to-face. He'd had years to refine them, until they conveyed exactly his contempt for her actions. Granted, he hadn't behaved admirably under the circumstances himself. But her behavior had been inexcusable.

  Seeing her again, realizing her grandmother had died, he held back. Even he had some sensibilities—though he was sure she'd disagree. Time enough when things settled down a little to attend to business. If she thought he'd give up now that he was here, she didn't know him. He'd stay until he got her signatures on the documents.

  He wouldn't return to New Orleans until he had her signature. But he wouldn't insist on her doing anything today with her grandmother so newly deceased.

  If needed, he'd stay a couple of days—keep in touch with the office via phone. It wasn't as if he made a habit of being away.

  Now that he was face-to-face with his wife for the first time in five years, he was taking no chances. They'd settle the matter before he left, inconvenient time or not!

  "I'd say the timing's inconvenient. I still can't imagine why you drove all this way. What do you want? Why today? Why not just call?"

  Caroline yearned to open the door in a sweeping gesture and usher him out. She knew she couldn't force him to do anything he didn't want. She'd never been capable of that.

  No one was. When Brandon got a notion he could be the most stubborn man alive.

  "We're going to talk. Instead of futile attempts to reach you by phone, I came in person," he said. "If I'd known about your grandmother, I'd have waited a couple of days. But I didn't know. We can either talk now or in a day or two. I'm not leaving until we get some things settled."

  "Everything was settled years ago. Seems to me, anyway."

  She knew she sounded petulant, but she couldn't help it. Seeing him brought old memories to the forefront. She didn't like it one bit. One more thing to deal with and she was so tired she just wanted to sleep!

  Instead she felt drawn to him. Being near him stirred her curiosity and anger. She wanted to rail at him for leaving. She wanted to discover what he'd been doing for the last five years.

  How she wished she could change the past! That had been her mantra for those first few months five years ago.

  "Running away never solved anything, Caroline," he said.

  "Maybe Abby and I should wait in the living room," Michelle said.

  "No need. I have nothing to discuss with Brandon. Sorry you made the trip for nothing."

  Caroline turned and almost ran up the stairs, escape uppermost in her mind. So what if he thought she was running away. It was too late to dream dreams with Brandon at the center.

  Truth be told, she'd been operating on sheer nervous energy for days and she'd explode if she didn't get away. This was too much. First her grandmother's illness; then her unexpected death; now Brandon's reappearance after hearing nothing from him for five years.

  It felt as if the world was crashing down on her. She could use a little help not have more problems thrown her way. Would she be capable of administering the probate and managing the estate until the inheritance was settled? Her home was in Dallas, not Baton Rouge. She'd never had to deal with anything like this before.

  And how could she cope with the myriad of problems, if her whole being became caught up in the old memories or endless recriminations and regrets tied to Brandon?

  The man she'd loved more than life itself.

  The man who'd abandoned her at the worst moment in her life. First she'd lost their unborn baby then her husband.

  The man she sometimes feared she still loved, despite all that had passed between them and the years that separated them.

  No, no, no, s
he murmured as she hurried down the long hallway.

  She refused to let herself be caught up with that reckless emotion of love. It hurt too much when it ended.

  Picking up the pieces of her shattered life hadn't been easy. But she'd managed. She'd built a successful life for herself in Dallas. So what if she didn't experience the joyful delights she'd once found with Brandon. Neither did she have the depths of bitter pain and betrayal to contend with, either.

  Except with the startling revelation from her grandmother right before she'd died.

  It couldn't be true, could it? Even Eugenia Talmadge couldn't have been that self-serving, that vindictive, that manipulative. That wicked!

  That strange tale had been the ramblings of a delirious, dying woman, that's all. Caroline tried to convince herself it was that and nothing more.

  She closed her bedroom door and flung herself on her bed. The room was dim. Out of habit, she'd closed the drapes earlier to keep the hot sun from fading the carpet and heating the room. Now she wrapped herself in the light coverlet and closed her eyes. Fatigue gripped her. She longed for the oblivion of sleep, but Brandon's face danced before her eyes.

  Why had he come? How soon would he leave?

  Slowly sleep claimed her.

  Brandon watched Caroline flee up the stairs. For a moment he almost pursued her, fed up with her refusal to talk with him. Nothing had changed. She avoided him at every turn. Just as she had so long ago.

  Only this time he wouldn't be put off.

  His attorneys could have had the papers delivered. Brandon hadn't wanted to risk it. She'd returned his letters before. This time he'd make sure she couldn't do that. He admitted his own curiosity and need for closure had him decide to deliver the papers in person.

  Only he hadn't expected Eugenia's death. Somehow he'd thought the woman would live forever.

  For a moment he wondered what Caroline would do without her formidable grandmother to hide behind.

  "Come in and sit down, Brandon," Michelle said, looking after her sister with worry in her eyes. "I'm sure she'll be back soon. It's been a stressful few days."