was lean and long-legged, with the same dark blond hair and blue eyes Sawyer had, but with an angular line to chin and cheekbone that reminded Sawyer of Killian.
Sawyer knew there’d be jokes on the subject of his “scrape” with the law for some time to come. “They decided I was innocent after all. You ready?”
“Yeah. But are you sure you still feel like doing this?”
“Yes. But if you have other things to do, say so.”
Because of an ongoing feud between their families over the years, Sawyer had been conditioned to think of Brian as an enemy. His new status as brother and friend was welcome but disorienting. Brian, too, seemed wary of it sometimes.
“I don’t have anything else to do,” Brian insisted. “It’s just that it sounds like you’ve had a rough couple of hours and I don’t want you to feel obligated….”
Sawyer drew an exasperated breath. Brian was beginning to remind him of Campbell and his conviction that he didn’t belong in the Abbott family because he was from their father’s second marriage. Considering that Sawyer and Killian both loved Chloe, Campbell’s mother, and she was still very much the matriarch of their household, he had trouble figuring out where Cam’s lack of confidence in his position came from.
“I don’t feel obligated because you’re my brother,” Sawyer said with impatience, “but I do want to make up for lost time. We spent most of our lives fighting with each other, and that seems like a terrible injustice to me.”
Brian looked momentarily startled, then said gravely, “I thought you’d feel obligated because I saved your life at great risk to my own, and I didn’t want that. But if you want to feel obligated because you’re my brother and you owe me a lifetime of doing things for me, taking the blame for me, helping me with difficult tasks, that’s all right, too.”
Sawyer stared at him, just beginning to understand that Brian had what was proving to be a very Abbott sense of humor, even though their connection was on their mother’s side of the family.
“You have me confused with Killian,” Sawyer said finally. “I never did any of those things for Campbell, and I’m not doing them for you. But if you want help painting a few of the rental boats, I’m willing to do that in exchange for the fried clams you promised.”
“You won’t even help me with my rent now that my father’s disowned me?”
“I happen to know you got this place for a song, and that you inherited your grandmother’s house free and clear.”
Brian blinked at Sawyer’s bald refusal. “What about my wounded sense of self-worth?”
“We’re all dealing with that one. You’ll just have to keep up.”
“You won’t even help me find a woman now that Killian has the only one I ever cared about?”
Brian was acquainted with Cordelia, Killian’s wife, since college, before she knew Killian. Because Brian’s family had always been in competition, businesswise, with the Abbotts, the children had grown up enemies. Brian had enjoyed flirting with Cordie to hurt Killian and civilities had been strained—until they’d learned Brian and the Abbotts were related.
“Ah. I may be willing to help you there. I do seem to have something that makes them flock to me.”
“It’s money,” Brian said, digging his keys out of his pocket.
“I thought it was charm and wit.”
“I’m sorry. It’s not. Come on, we’ll take my car to Yvonne’s.” Yvonne made the best fried clams in the Hamptons.
Sawyer climbed into Brian’s new black pickup. He’d traded in his Porsche for it as a sign of dedication to his new life. “Younger brothers,” he said, “are supposed to be respectful and blinded by hero worship.”
Brian grinned at him as he slid in behind the wheel. “You should have explained that to me before I agreed to this whole brother thing.” They roared away.
It was almost midnight by the time Sawyer got home. They’d put a coat of paint on three of the small boats Brian had acquired with the rental part of the business, then had a beer on the front porch before going their separate ways.
Sawyer had enjoyed Brian’s company, and was surprised by how connected he felt to him despite the lifetime spent at odds. And though he made light of it, he knew Brian had come to his rescue without hesitation that day on the water when Sawyer’s waterskiing stunt had gone wrong, and he would always feel indebted for that.
As Sawyer walked into the house, it was clear that someone was quarreling with someone else. One of the raised voices coming from the living room was male, the other female.
Winfield greeted Sawyer at the door. He was sort of a butler-bodyguard Campbell had hired last year, convinced their security was lax. Winfield was built like a tank, had a voice like a grinding motor and possessed a gentle nature completely at odds with his appearance.
“They’re at it again,” he said, closing the door.
“What are they fighting about?”
“Not sure. Anything and everything.”
“I’ll go see what I can do.”
Sawyer would have just let them have at it as Killian had advised when it was obvious, the day of China’s arrival at Shepherd’s Knoll, that the two were not going to get along. But if she was Abigail, and they’d been without her all this time, it was criminal that warfare should ensue when she’d finally been restored to them.
And if she wasn’t Abigail, then he was still in sympathy with her.
Campbell had voted against letting her stay until Chloe came home, convinced she was lying for purposes of her own, but Sawyer and Killian had outvoted him. That had happened a lot in his life because of their different personalities rather than their different mothers, but all Campbell knew was that he often lost to his elder brothers. This time, it seemed, he didn’t mind taking his frustrations out on China.
Sawyer found them standing toe-to-toe in the large living room. Campbell, tall and dark-haired, with Chloe’s milk-chocolate eyes and fine-boned face, had more of an air of aristocracy than did Killian and Sawyer combined. Add to that his sense of loss and his moody personality had all the stuff of a Gothic hero.
China, on the other hand, exuded cheerful practicality, and had little patience for the drama he brought to every moment. She was average in height, with a slender grace that reminded him of Chloe. Or it could be a simple femininity many women had in common.
Her long hair was caught at the back of her neck with a chased silver clip.
“I didn’t forget to take a message,” she was saying with hot annoyance as Sawyer approached them. “I told you! I put it with the stack of mail Kezia put aside for you on the hall table. If you lost it after that, it isn’t my fault.”
Campbell was pulled up to full-pride height, but maintained his cool flawlessly. Only Sawyer, who fought with him often, recognized the tight muscle in his jaw.
“Had you done that,” he said, “it would
