Читать книгу The Protector's Promise - Shirlee McCoy - Страница 12

Obviously, Honor was even more tired than she’d thought. Why else would she have invited Grayson Sinclair in for coffee? There were unpacked boxes awaiting her attention, dishes piled up in the sink and a load of laundry in a basket on the coffee table waiting to be folded. She had more than enough to do without adding entertaining a neighbor.

And not just any neighbor.

Grayson Sinclair.

Handsome, charming, Grayson Sinclair.

She shook her head and drained the last dregs of coffee from her cup, hoping the caffeine would work its way into her system and clear her thinking. The shock of being woken up from a sound sleep and told that her daughter was missing must have scrambled her brains and affected her judgment.

Grayson wasn’t all that handsome or charming.

Okay. He was. But that didn’t mean Honor found him attractive. She’d learned her lesson about men like that when she’d married Jay. They could be loved, but they couldn’t be counted on and they couldn’t be trusted. She’d do well to keep that in mind.

Honor sighed, rinsing her cup, and then walked down the hall. She needed to put Grayson out of her mind and deal with her daughter. She had to make it very clear that there would be no more wandering outside without supervision.

A quick, hard rap on the front door made Honor jump. She turned toward the sound, her heart racing in her chest. The neighbors had stopped by on moving day, but since then there had been no unexpected visitors. Unless she counted Grayson.

She frowned.

There he was again.

Right in the center of her thoughts.

The visitor knocked again, the sound echoing through the cozy living room. Honor knew she shouldn’t feel alarmed. There was nothing frightening about someone knocking on the door during daylight hours, but adrenaline coursed through her as she approached the door, telling her she should run and hide rather than see who it was. “Who is it?”

“Flower delivery for Honor Malone.” The speaker was female, and Honor relaxed.

Surprised, she peered out the peephole in the door to see a bouquet of blood-red roses.

“Who are they from?”

“I don’t know. There’s a card though. Want me to open it?”

“No. That’s okay. Thanks.” She pulled the door open and accepted the flowers from a fresh-faced blonde who looked to be about Candace’s age.

“They’re beautiful.”

“Yeah, they are. Enjoy them. Have a good day.” Before Honor could ask any more questions, the young lady hurried back to the driveway, climbed into a bright pink delivery van with the name “Blooming Baskets” emblazoned on the side and drove away.

Honor carried the roses into the house, touching a smooth petal as she set the vase on the coffee table in the living room. Someone had sent her roses.

How long had it been since that had last happened?

Five years ago. She could remember it as vividly as if it were yesterday. Jay had been deployed to Iraq the previous month and Honor had realized she was pregnant soon after. She’d called him with the news and a day later he’d managed to have four dozen roses delivered to the apartment. One dozen for each member of their family. Four dozen more than they could afford on his soldier salary.

Honor blinked away the memory, reaching for the note attached to the vase.

I’ve missed you.

Three words that meant absolutely nothing to Honor. She turned the card over, searching for a name, but there wasn’t one. No signature. Nothing indicating who had sent the flowers.

Curious and slightly uneasy, Honor grabbed the phone and called information, then dialed the number of the florist. The owner tried to be helpful, but the information she had was vague. A dark-haired man wearing a suit had ordered the flowers. He’d paid cash and hadn’t given a name.

Honor found the news oddly disturbing.

She touched a petal again, frowning as she stared down at the flowers.

I’ve missed you?

She didn’t know anyone in Lakeview well enough to be missed by them, and she couldn’t believe someone from St. Louis had come all the way to Lakeview to send her a bouquet. If someone in the city had missed her enough to come to town, surely he would have stopped in to visit before going home.

“Oh, flowers!” Candace walked into the room, her eyes bright with excitement as she caught sight of the roses. “They’re gorgeous.”

“They are, aren’t they?”

“So why do you sound less than happy about getting them?” As usual, Candace picked up on Honor’s worry.

“I’m just not sure who sent them.”

“Is there a card?”

“Yes, but no name.” As she spoke, she slid the card into her pocket. There was no sense in sharing her worry with Candace.

“If you really want to know who sent them—”

“I already called the florist. They weren’t able to tell me who the flowers are from.”

“Of course you called the florist.” Candace smiled and shook her head, her sleek ponytail sliding over her shoulder.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, you don’t have an impractical bone in your body. Everything has got to be planned out and scheduled and perfectly in line. Unless it is, you just can’t enjoy yourself.”

“And is it so wrong to want things to go smoothly?” Stung by her sister-in-law’s assessment, Honor turned and grabbed a box from the floor, pulling out a few framed photographs that were wrapped in brown paper and setting them on the end table.

“No, but sometimes it’s okay to not have all the answers. Sometimes it’s good to just go with the flow.”

“‘Going with the flow’ often means being dragged by a current carrying you where you don’t want to go.” Jay had been a prime example of that. His laid-back attitude had resulted in more trouble than Honor cared to remember. Unpaid bills, missed appointments, paychecks spent before they ever made it to the bank. That had been Jay’s life. It would never again be Honor’s.

“Probably, but in this case, it just means accepting a gift from a secret admirer. A secret admirer! How cool is that?”

Not cool, creepy, but Honor decided not to say that to Candace. “Really cool. Is Lily still in her room?”

“She was sitting on her bed looking dejected when I checked on her.” Candace didn’t seem to care that Honor had changed the subject. Her gaze was on the flowers, a soft smile playing at her lips. Did she dream of finding a handsome prince to carry her away? In all the years she’d been living with Honor, Candace had never mentioned wanting to date, get married or have children.

And Honor knew better than to ask. Candace was as close-mouthed about her dreams as Jay had been verbal. “I guess I’d better go deal with our little escape artist.”

“I’ll put the flowers on the dining room table. They’ll look nice there.”

For some reason, the thought of having the flowers sitting in the middle of the table while she enjoyed a meal with the girls didn’t sit well with Honor. “No. Just leave them here. They’re too pretty to put in the dining room. We’ll keep them out here where visitors can see them.”

Candace looked doubtful, but shrugged. “If we had any visitors that would make sense.”

“We’ve had a few visitors recently.”

“A sheriff and our neighbor.” Candace paused. “You know, maybe that’s who sent the flowers.”

“Who?” Honor headed toward her bedroom, anxious to put the conversation behind her, but not wanting to cut Candace off. Despite her harsh upbringing, Candace was a sensitive soul. Sometimes too sensitive.