Читать книгу His Honour, Her Family - Tara Randel - Страница 12

CHAPTER TWO

“MAMA, HOW MANY times do I have to tell you to stay put? Bagsy will be fine.”

“Not if I don’t feed him,” her mother argued, hobbling with her wrapped ankle and cane across the scuffed linoleum flooring to the pantry. There was no stopping the woman when she worried about her fluffy, white feline companion. “He’s all I’ve got.”

How many times had Grace heard this refrain? She really thought she’d gotten past Mama’s guilt trip, but apparently not. Her heart squeezed at the sight of the woman, face drawn and skin sallow, looking smaller than the last time Grace had seen her, if that was possible. Her mother was on the petite side, but in the last week she’d lost weight, concerning Grace even more.

“Mama, have you been eating?” she asked as she marched to the refrigerator and opened the door. Sure enough, the perishables Grace had brought over yesterday sat on the shelves, untouched.

Her mother waved her hand at Grace. “Don’t worry over me.”

“Right, like the way you don’t fuss over Bagsy?”

“That’s different. If I don’t feed him, who will?”

“None of us will let him starve.”

“If any of my children were around,” she muttered under her breath.

“Really? Am I just a figment of your imagination?” Grace blew out a sigh. Call it oldest-child syndrome or the fact that Grace had managed her mother’s life since their father had...left, it was the same song and dance.

The cat came running when her mother poured the dry food in a bowl, a grimace lining her face. After a quick pet on Bagsy’s head, she sank down into a chair at the kitchen table and lifted her bruised and swollen foot to rest on another. “Sorry, Gracie. I know you came when I called. And Faith did stop by with a few prepared meals. I’ve been eating those.”

“Glad to hear.”

“Your sister has a lot going on, what with the babies being sick and Lyle out of a job again. I can’t bother her.”

No, but you can impose on my life.

Which wasn’t a fair thought. Mama had been on her own for a few years now and had actually been doing well. She’d been running the company and taking care of her finances and seemed to be at peace with the past. Until Grace moved to Atlanta for good, Faith had to focus on her family and Nathan was...well, no one knew what Nathan was up to so that wasn’t a good sign. Grace envisioned a visit from the police in the near future and held back a frown.

“So Faith has family issues. What about Nathan? Have you heard from him?”

“About a week before my fall. He called and said he’d be back for the first tour, but now I’m not so sure.”

Grace pulled out a chair, slid it beside her mother’s and sat. “Mama, I know you don’t enjoy this conversation, but I’m going to ask you again. Why don’t you consider selling the company?”

Her mother pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes.

“This has been an ongoing discussion for some time. You can’t avoid the truth forever.”

“And what would that truth be, Gracie? That this family can’t stick together long enough to make this business work? When your daddy gets back—”

“He’s not coming back.” He was never going to set foot in Golden again and it was Grace’s fault.

“—things will be different.” Tears clouded her mother’s pretty green eyes. “Don’t go sayin’ things like that. He promised he’d come back to us.”

Yeah, well, he’d lied.

He’d never even made the trip to Golden to say goodbye once his prison sentence was up two years ago, leaving her mother in limbo. They weren’t divorced, and no matter how many times Grace assured her mother she could take care of the matter, her mother refused to file. Earl Harper had outright abandoned his wife. The coward walked away after his release from jail and never looked back. Grace was still picking up the pieces.

Knowing she would get nowhere with this tactic, she tried another. “Mama, Faith is always looking for some extra cash. Let her work a few hours a day at the office. She can bring the kids with her, just like you did when we were little.”

“I don’t know. She doesn’t want to fight with Lyle about it.”

Grace had a few choice words for Lyle, but voicing them was useless. The family business was less family and mostly Grace, no matter that she’d put steps in place before she left town to make running the company easier for all involved.

“Then let me talk to Nathan when he gets back. Impress upon him once again his importance in the business.”

“You know your brother. He’s a free spirit.”

An excuse for getting into hot water if ever there was one.

Her mother reached over and took Grace’s hand. “You’re the glue that holds this family together, Gracie. We can’t do it without you.”

Grace swallowed a groan. Fought back the frustrated tears stinging her eyes.

“I can’t, Mama.”

Sadness crossed her mother’s face and she deflated right in front of Grace.

“But I promised I would stay until you’re feeling better, and I will.”

Her mother nodded and rose, shuffling into the living room.

Muttering the words she’d reserved for Lyle under her breath, Grace stood and walked to the kitchen window. The trees had finally sprouted tender green leaves. The mulberry bush on the side of the yard showed signs of bright purple berries, while orange butterfly weed and wild blue indigo bloomed haphazardly in the scraggly backyard. The small three-bedroom house sat on the top of a hill, the backyard sloping down to a creek that ran through the property.

When Grace had pulled up earlier, she’d sat in her sedan, blinking away moisture as she viewed her childhood home. It appeared as run-down as the Put Your Feet Up office. The house needed a fresh coat of paint and the concrete steps—which had crumbled, causing her mother’s tumble and injury—needed replacing. After graduating law school, Grace had offered to have her mother move to Atlanta and live with her, especially when she landed a good-paying job. Her mother had balked, waiting for Daddy and all, so Grace moved out of the house and started a new life. Or at least she’d hoped to start a new life. Sometimes her family didn’t make it easy.

The phone rang and Grace heard her mother say, “Faith, how are the babies?”

While her mother chatted, Grace strolled down the hallway to the bedrooms. Poking her head into her mother’s room, she realized it hadn’t changed in nearly thirty years. Same furnishings, although the quilt on the bed was different. The same comforting scent of Shalimar lingered in the room. Daddy had given a bottle to Mama one year for Christmas and she’d worn only that perfume ever since. Just one more indication of her mother’s refusal to face the truth.

Backing out, she crossed the hall to her bedroom. Twin beds she and her sister had shared were now filled with Faith’s children’s toys. Grace stepped through the doorway, nearly tripping over a wooden block. With a smile, she bent to retrieve it, then tossed it in the toy chest that had been hers when they were all growing up. The waxy scent of crayons, reminding her how much she had enjoyed drawing, greeted her like an old friend. Not much had changed here either, except that the Harper children were grown adults with lives of their own.

Her mother’s soothing voice carried down the hallway. Grace lowered herself to her twin bed, running her fingers over the worn coverlet designed with large pink-and-purple geometric shapes over a white background. A bittersweet sigh escaped her. She’d thought it was so cool when she’d picked it out at fifteen, shortly before Daddy left. It had been a big deal, the first grown-up decision she’d ever made. Little did she know it wouldn’t be the last.

Spying a framed photo on the dresser, Grace rose and walked over to pick it up. The three of them, mugging for the camera. Grace with a tight smile, Faith all glammed up and Nathan grinning, an upper tooth missing.

“What happened to us?” she whispered.

They’d gotten along until the years after their father was incarcerated. Everyone blamed Grace but didn’t balk when she’d taken over as the adult of the family. Faith had acted out and Nathan, well, it took time, but he finally decided to follow in their father’s footsteps by engaging in questionable endeavors—not exactly illegal but definitely straddling the fence—hoping for a payout that never materialized. Lately, she dreaded coming home, always anxious about how her siblings would greet her. With a pang, Grace realized this was probably why Faith stayed away when Grace was in town.

“Gracie, come on in here,” her mother called.

Replacing the picture, Grace squared her shoulders. Her heels echoed on the wood floor as she joined her mother.

“Faith said hello,” her mother informed her as soon as she entered the room.

“I hope I get to see her while I’m here,” Grace said, truly meaning it. The sisterly bond had been strong until they were in their teens. Faith, willful even then, accused Grace of trying to mother her. Grace had heard “You’re not the boss of me” too many times to count.

It all came to a head one night when the girls were in high school. Grace had warned Faith about a party her sister wanted to attend. It was all over school that there would be alcohol. Their mother, in bed with the covers over her head, didn’t have any opinion one way or the other if Faith went, so Grace stepped in, and, after an argument, forbade Faith from leaving the house. Which went over like a lead balloon. They yelled at each other, Faith calling Grace bossy and uptight, saying that no one wanted to be her friend. Grace tried to explain she didn’t want Faith to get hurt. She recognized that the kids Faith had been hanging out with were nothing but trouble, but she couldn’t convince Faith.

Faith sneaked out anyway and proceeded to get drunk. The cops busted the party and hauled the kids to the police department, mostly to scare them straight. Grace came to get her sister, thankful no charges were filed, and even though she never said I told you so, things were never the same between them. The sad truth was, Grace wanted to be Faith’s sister, not her handler, but it hadn’t worked out that way.

“She said she’s—”

Grace held up a hand. “I know, busy.”

Her mother averted her eyes.

“So if you’re okay, I’m going to take off.” Grace swallowed the thickness in her throat, picking up her purse from the sofa cushion. “I need to stop by the grocery store before heading to the cabin.”

“I don’t know why you won’t stay here,” her mother fussed. “I have a perfectly good spare room.”

That was never going to happen. She’d stayed here last night and once was enough. After she had come in late from a long day of trying to figure out what was going on at Put Your Feet Up, her mother had filled her in on the local gossip before switching topics to cover what Grace could do while she was home. Eventually, she’d fallen asleep on the couch, waking the following morning with a crick in her neck and the guilt from the past weighing her down. If she had to stay in Golden, she needed her space or she’d go crazy, so the family cabin would be her refuge.

“Faith’s kids use the bedroom when they come over. And Nathan will be back, eventually. Besides, I don’t plan on being in town forever. Once you’re feeling better, you can take over at the office.”

“I don’t know. These painkillers make me woozy.”

“You’ll be off them soon enough.”

Her mother picked at a snagged piece of yarn hanging from her sweater sleeve.

Bending over, Grace placed a kiss on her mother’s cheek. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“I’ll be here,” came the terse reply.

Grace had just made it to the front door when her mother stopped her. “Wait. I forgot to ask. Did you hire the man who came to the office today?”

Turning, she said, “Yes, despite not running his references first.”

“Myrna down at the coffee shop said he stopped in and is just the most polite young man.”

“You’re going by her word?”

“I’ve known Myrna and Delroy for twenty-five years. They wouldn’t steer me wrong.”

“Maybe not, but I still put in a request to speak to HR at his job.”

“Last job, you mean?”

“No, current. Sort of. He’s on a leave of absence.”

Her mother frowned. “Odd.”

“He works for the Georgia Bureau of Investigation.”

Wide-eyed, her mother gasped. Yeah, cops weren’t a favorite in this house since Daddy’s arrest. “Tell him never mind.”

“I will do no such thing. I hired him on your say-so. We need help and he looks more than capable for the job.”

Capable was an understatement. More than once this afternoon she’d pictured him, broad shoulders, blue-gray eyes that captivated and drew her in, wondering who he was and what had happened in his life to bring him to her door. Or why her heart sped up when he smiled. Those dimples. Yikes. Then, just as quickly, she chastised herself for thinking about him. She wasn’t in the market for a romance, no matter how handsome he was. Besides, she worked with lots of handsome men, she reasoned, even as an inner voice said, Yeah, but they’ve never affected you this way.

“But Gracie...”

“No buts, Mama. Unless he’s done something heinous, he stays.”

Her mother crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. It was all Grace could do not to laugh. “If you don’t like my decisions you can return to the office and take over.”

Wanda Sue dropped her arms. “Fine. He’ll do.”

“That’s what I thought.” She softened her voice. “Keep your phone nearby, okay? I love you, Mama.”

“I love you, too, Gracie.”

As she stepped outside, a breeze chilled her skin. She tugged her lightweight jacket closer. The month of May could still be cool in Golden, especially as the late-afternoon sun lowered in the sky, although it was beginning to stay lighter longer in the day now. She glanced at her watch and hustled to her car. She had enough time to hit the store and make it up to the cabin before dusk.

After power walking the small local grocery, she drove the five miles north of town to Golden Cabins. Her uncle Roy still owned and maintained the fifteen structures while the Put Your Feet Up office booked the rentals. This afternoon Grace had reserved the last available unit—the family cabin—just in time. By the end of the upcoming three-day holiday weekend, the vacation season would officially be under way.

She pulled off the main drag to the entrance. A wooden sign with bright gold letters welcomed guests. Gradually, the pavement receded to gravel and dirt. At the fork she turned left, leading her to the two cabins the family owned and used personally. Uncle Roy lived in one, and Grace’s family used the other, renting it when it wasn’t occupied. The rest of the rental units were to the right of the fork, away from the family. Spread out across ten acres, all the cabins had access to Golden Lake, which was within walking distance. Worn paths lined the property from years of tourists meandering through the majestic woods. At the very center of the property, where the river emptied into the lake, nature lovers could find a small waterfall. Even though Grace wasn’t much for the outdoors after an ill-fated camping trip in high school, the falls were her most favorite spot on the entire planet.

With the window down and cool air rustling her hair, the ground crunched under the car tires until she pulled up to the dark cabin and parked. Removing her groceries, she noticed Uncle Roy’s place was dark, too. He’d mentioned something about fishing until the guests arrived, so he still had a few days away.

Juggling her keys and groceries, she moved through the screened porch and unlocked the front door, then swiped the wall until her hand connected with the light switch. A bright overhead fixture illuminated the living room. Kicking the door closed with her foot, Grace carried the bags to the small kitchen and dropped them on the counter, then switched on another light before tossing her purse on the table and putting away the food that needed refrigeration. Once done, she opened the window to usher in the clean air. Her uncle had been gone when she’d called so the cabin hadn’t been aired out. It still retained that closed-up smell.

She’d just opened the living room window and kicked off her shoes when the sound of shattering glass jolted her. Curious, she hurried to the window and peered outside. Only the hazy twilight greeted her. Shaking her head, she turned to go into the bedroom to change when she heard a loud thump. This time she went to the door and opened it.

The waning sun disappeared behind the mountains, causing shadows to linger over the densely wooded area surrounding the cabins. Just enough light flittered through the tree branches for her to catch sight of a particular shadow on the far side of her uncle’s cabin.

She watched for a beat. Just as she was about to go back inside, she noticed a flicker of movement. Could it be a raccoon getting into mischief? Highly likely. She held her breath. Waited. Sure enough, the elusive movement caught her eye again. She blinked just to be sure, but something had stirred out there. She was certain of it.

Enough was enough.

She rushed straight to the utility closet in the kitchen and grabbed the best weapon she could wield, a broom. Yes, she was going next door to give those critters a piece of her mind. She’d sneak over and scare the party animals back into the woods where they belonged.

Holding the broom handle in a firm grasp, Grace detoured to her bedroom for a pair of flat shoes, then stormed through the screen door, down the steps and...stopped. What was she missing? Oh, yeah, a flashlight. She retraced her steps to find one, then came back outside. After the day she’d had, she was ready to do battle.

The air had cooled even more since she’d been inside. Shivering, she gulped in several deep breaths of pine-scented air, debating the wisdom of her actions as the night grew darker. She rounded the corner of the cabin, heard a thud and a deep groan.

Okay, that was no animal. A burglar?

Quickly turning, she began running back to her cabin to call for help, something she should have done from the start, when she collided with a solid human body.

* * *

DEKE GRUNTED AT exactly the same time the woman who’d barreled into him screamed.

“Hold it,” he yelled, hands outstretched as he saw an object moving toward his head. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

The woman took a step back, brandishing her weapon in defensive mode before her.

“How do I know that?”

He recognized that voice. “Miss Harper?”

The broom lowered. A click, then a sudden flash of bright light blinded him.

“Mr. Matthews?” she asked as she aimed the flashlight directly at his face. “What are you doing here?”

“Trying to get into this cabin.” He squinted against the harsh light. “Mind lowering that thing?”

“Oh, right.” She moved the beam to the ground. “I didn’t see a car when I pulled up.”

“I parked around back.”

“I’m confused. My uncle lives here.”

“He rented the cabin to me. I’ve been trying to find the key but it’s not where he said he left it.” Deke cradled his left hand. First he’d dropped a heavy planter on it while hunting for the key, then he’d knocked into a patio table. His fingers throbbed. He felt moisture and suspected he was bleeding.

“It’s usually under the plant,” his soon-to-be boss said.

“There’s more than one in the back.”

“No. It should be here in the front.”

“I just looked.”

She turned the light to the front porch, skipping over the large decorative planters to a small potted plant situated beside the steps.

“He said planter.”

“Probably he just said plant.”

She walked over, tipped the pot and sure enough, the light hit on a shiny silver key. She grabbed it and held it up. “See.”

“I could have sworn he said planter.”

“He’s out fishing and when he’s off by himself he usually chews tobacco. Maybe you misunderstood him.” She held out the key. When he reached for it, she angled the light on his hand and gasped. “You’re bleeding.”

“Yeah,” he said as the aftereffect of his inept search grew increasingly painful.

She took hold of his arm. “C’mon.”

“Where are we going?”

“To my place. I have bandages.”

“I’m okay, really. Now that I have the key I’ll go inside and clean up.”

Tugging on his arm, she said, “No way. I couldn’t in good conscience let my newest employee bleed out.”

“I’m hardly in danger of bleeding out.”

“But we don’t know that since it’s dark and we can’t properly see the damage.”

Ignoring his protest, she dragged him across the property to a matching cabin. She had him inside in seconds flat, pointing left. “This way to the kitchen.”

“Are you always this bossy?”

“Mostly.”

In the bright light he could now see a gash across his palm. Two of his fingers were turning a faint purple.

“Goodness, what did you do?”

“I lost my balance when the planter fell on my hand and I bumped into the patio table. It toppled over and I cut myself on the edge of the glass top.”

She took his hand, studied it for a second, then nudged him to the sink. “Rinse that off,” she commanded, then disappeared. Moments later she reappeared with boxes of bandages, hydrogen peroxide, a small tube of what he guessed was some sort of salve and whatever else an injured man needed.

“Is it deep?” she asked as she dumped the supplies on the counter. “Should we go to the emergency room?”

He winced as the warm water trickled over the cut. “I don’t think so.”

“Any glass in it?”

“Not that I can see.”

She took hold of his hand again. “Sure you don’t need stitches?”

He tried not to be insulted. Stitches? For a medium-sized cut? “A butterfly will do.”

She glanced up at him. “You’re trying to act all manly, aren’t you?”

“I am manly. And like I told you at the office earlier, I know first aid. A butterfly should be fine.”

She fished through the box to find the bandage. “If you say so.”

“Mind getting me a towel?” he asked when a thin line of red still ran off his hand.

She opened a drawer and pulled out a towel. He took it and covered his palm.

“That’s going to hurt tomorrow,” she informed him.

“It hurts right now.”

She grinned. “Not so manly after all?”

He ignored the teasing.

Once his hand was dry, he lifted the towel to find the blood welling over the cut, but not gushing. He applied pressure again while she opened the bottle of peroxide. “This is going to sting,” she warned.

“I know, but the cut needs to be cleaned.” He removed the towel and braced himself. “Anytime you’re ready.”

Grace lowered his hand over the sink and poured. The muscle in his jaw jumped, but that was all the satisfaction he’d give her after she’d insulted his manliness. Yes, it hurt like crazy but he sucked in a deep breath.

“Sorry,” she said.

“Uh-huh,” he grunted.

Finished, she grabbed another towel and placed it over the cut. “Give that a few seconds to work and I’ll place the bandage.”

While she tidied up, Deke blew out a breath and rested his hip against the counter. With the worst part over, he now noticed his boss’s blond hair glow under the harsh kitchen lighting. Her fair skin attested to her not personally leading the outdoor tours. He was intrigued by the softness that was in direct contrast to her very take-control attitude.

“So,” he said, “you’re a nurse, too?”

“No, but after years of working with vacation clients, I know first aid.”

“Makes sense.” He lifted the towel, glad to see the bleeding was minimal. “Let’s get the bandage on now.”

Grace unwrapped the butterfly and within seconds had it secure. Blood seeped around it.

“Still needs pressure.”

Grabbing a box of gauze, she unrolled a long length and wrapped it around his palm with enough pressure to stanch any more blood flow. She tied it off, then looked up at him, a smile of victory curving her lips.

Their gazes met and held. A ripple of awareness took him by surprise. Yeah, he’d noticed how pretty his new boss was when he’d applied for the job, but this? This was a feeling he hadn’t felt in far too long. He blinked as he tried to get his wayward thoughts under control. Her smile faded and she slowly backed away.

“Um, that should do for now,” she said in a crisp tone as she packed away the supplies. “I suggest you see a doctor tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” he said, striving to get his voice under control. “For everything.”

She nodded and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He inhaled a decidedly floral scent. Cherry blossom? Even her perfume suited her.

“I should get going,” he finally said.

“Right.” Grace led him to the door. “Sorry about nearly clobbering you in the head. I thought you were a raccoon. Or worse, a burglar.”

“Serves me right for making a racket.”

She tilted her head. “You’re not very good at breaking and entering.”

He grinned and silence hovered between them again.

“I should probably go get settled,” he said again.

“Look, you don’t have to come in tomorrow,” she said, glancing down at his bandaged hand.

“It’s okay. I’d like to learn about the company and find out what kinds of tours you have scheduled.”

She nodded. “Then I’ll bring the coffee. It’s the least I can do.”

“Thanks, Miss Harper.”

“I think after tonight’s events, you can call me Grace.”

“Deke.”

“I remember.”

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow, Grace.”

She opened the door. “If you don’t feel well during the night, don’t hesitate to come over and wake me up.”

“I can handle this.”

“Then have a good night.”

He nodded again and stepped outside to make his way to the cabin. As he walked across the loose gravel, then the damp grass, his eyes lit on a firepit between the two cabins, visible in the moonlight. The cool night air felt good on his heated face.

Dipping his good hand into his jeans pocket to remove the key he’d slid there after Grace had found it, he unlocked the door. He turned on the light switch and made his way around, familiarizing himself with his temporary home. When he’d finished, he went outside to bring in his duffel from the back of the Jeep Wrangler. By now, his head ached along with his hand. He found pain reliever in the bathroom, popped two and finally sank down on the couch in the living room.

Blowing out a breath, he muttered, “Great first impression, Matthews.”

Getting cut might temporarily throw a snag in his plans, but thankfully Miss Harper—Grace—hadn’t told him he was fired before he started.

Grace. Even the name suited her. She was tough and caring, a surprising combination that he’d do well not to let get the better of him. He was here to lose himself in work, not notice his new boss.