Read Online Samuel (Samuel's Pride Series) by Kathi S. Barton - Free Book Online

thousand euro or twenty-three thousand seven
hundred seventy-two dollars and sixty cents in dollars. That being said, I hope
you don’t come up with it. I’ve a mind to own the house myself.”
    Shamus sat down hard in the chair. “Five
days. That’s not possible. I canna come up with that much money. I need more
time.”
    The man laughed. “We’ve given you more
time than we do others of your standing. You have until Monday to come up with
the money. We’ve started the notification of all those concerned.”
    Shamus didn’t get the chance to ask him
who was concerned because his mind was wrapped around the five days. By the
time he’d gotten around to asking if he could have an extension, the man had
hung up on him. Christ, it was worse than he thought. As he cradled the phone
again, he wondered who the other concerned might be that he was talking about,
but right now he didn’t care. He had to come up with some money. Shamus went to
his mother’s room and found it not just devoid of her but everything, including
her bed. When the hell had that happened?
    His sister’s room, as well as his
brother’s room, was the same. Nothing, not even a towel left in the hamper.
They’d all left him, abandoned him in his hour of need. Shamus sat down on the
floor in his brother’s room and looked around. That’s when he spied the note
sitting atop the fireplace mantle.
    You’re a fuck up. Shamus felt his
anger boil over as he continued to read. You’re not only a fuck up, but a
royal fuck up. And stupid as well. Mother moved us out on Wednesday. I’ve no
idea when you’ve read this but I’m guessing it was a long time passed. See,
stupid too. Good luck brother dear, I hope you’re happy that you’ve lost our
family home. Sincerely, Michael.
    It was Wednesday, but Shamus had a
feeling his brother meant last Wednesday. He tried to remember the last time he’d
seen Michael and couldn’t. Hell, he wasn’t even sure when the last time he’d
seen a servant was for that matter. He put the note into his pocket and went in
search of his grandmother’s number. She wouldn’t let the house go to someone
else.
    “I’m sorry, sir, the mistress is out of
the house. I do not expect her to return for at least several months. Shall I
tell her you called if she could contact the house?” Shamus hung up. Everyone
was against him, and he didn’t like it.
    The money was simply gone. He’d tried to
win it back, but nothing was working the way he’d planned. When he started to
notice that he was running low, he’d taken measures to have Kennedy marry old
man Tailor, but she’d left him and had run off to the United States. Tailor had
promised to make Kennedy his heir, but she’d have to give him a son first. As
old as the man was, Shamus had doubted his ability to get hard, much less
father a child, and had already made plans to have his sister impregnated by
someone else to fob the child off as Tailor’s, but that had failed as well. Then
he’d thought to get his younger sister to marry him, but she, too, had failed
him. Shamus just could not understand his family and their unwillingness to
help when he needed them.
    He called the bank hoping to get someone
that would be willing to give him some extra time and maybe a little money to
tide him over. The races were starting up tomorrow night again, and he was sure
he could win back all he needed and more.
    After being on the line for several
minutes, he’d been transferred to someone else. When the woman came on the line,
she was less than friendly to him, something that bothered him a great deal.
    “I’ve sent you several letters, Mr.
Buehler. The bank no longer owns your note. A company in the America’s owns it
now.” She tisked at him. “And your request for funding is not going to happen
either. You’ve overdrawn your account by several thousand dollars now and we’ll
not be giving you more.”
    “Now what?” Shamus sat there for a long
time before he got up