Grayson Brothers Series Boxed Set (4 books in 1) (58 page)

She tipped her head back and gave him a long, hard look. “Of all my boys, you’ve been the least selfish. I don’t know why you think otherwise. What’s weighing on your mind tonight?”

“I haven’t done enough for you. I’ve asked for too much and given too little.”

“Boyd Benjamin, where did you get that fool-headed idea? You never ask me for anything.”

“Maybe I should have.” His lowered his arms and leaned against the sink. “I never asked what you wanted when Dad broke his hip. I only thought of my needs when I refused to hug him. I didn’t know my refusal to accept his death would ask too much of you and Dad.”

“Is that what this is about?” She sighed and laid her hand on the pie safe, her loving gaze studying him. “If it weren’t for you, your father would have given up. After you stormed out of the house that day, refusing to let him quit fighting and give in to the disease, your father wept a river because he felt so loved.”

“But he suffered so much after that.”

Her frown lines disappeared, and her face grew serene. “That last year was one of our best,” she said quietly. “We didn’t waste a single moment. Because of you, we had time to prepare ourselves to be separated.”

“I couldn’t let him go,” he confessed hoarsely.

A soft smile touched her lips. “He loved you with all his heart, Boyd. His last breath was a laugh over that little carving you left in the water closet for him.”

Boyd couldn’t recall anything from that day other than running out of the house with angry tears blurring his vision.

“You don’t remember?” she asked with a surprised chuckle. “It was an extremely detailed carving of a nude woman. You’d left her standing on the sink basin as a joke for your father.”

The memory rushed back like a dam bursting open. Boyd had whittled the statuette during the hours he’d spent at his father’s bedside. He wouldn’t tell his father what he was working on, only that it was a surprise for him. From the day they had mounted the back bar at the saloon and drunk their first ale together, Boyd had left his boyhood behind. He talked to his father about manly things like carving, receiving hours of instruction while sitting at his bedside. They talked about timber costs and running their sawmill. And they had talked about women.

At fifteen, Boyd had been wild for them. His preoccupation amused his father to no end. So Boyd had whittled his youthful idea of the perfect woman, and left the big-breasted, full-hipped statuette on the water closet sink as a joke. He knew it would make his father laugh. And his father, who had grown frighteningly weak, had desperately needed a diversion from his pain.

His mother slipped her warm hand over his knuckles. “Your father died with that carving in his hand. I made sure it stayed in his hand when we buried him.”

A torrent of grief rushed through Boyd and burned his insides.

“You didn’t ask your father to fight his battle alone,” she said, unaware of the battle Boyd was fighting with the emotions clogging his throat. “You were at his side every day, cheering him up, making him laugh, giving him a reason to keep living. You were his strength. And mine. You brought light to those dark hours, and your father died knowing he was loved—by me, by your brothers, but most of all by you. That’s all any man can hope for. You’ve never asked for anything, Boyd. You’ve always been the one to give the most.”

Her words made him hopeful that he would someday be able to view his past in a kinder light. He’d buried so many memories in the avalanche of grief.

“I wish I could have helped him.”

“Me too,” she said. “But I couldn’t protect your father from that crippling disease any more then I could protect you boys from painful falls and hurtful comments. I could only love you and give you someone to hold on to when you were hurting. That’s all anyone can do.”

He nodded, knowing she was right, but wishing he could have done more for his parents.

She sighed and stroked her hand down his arm. “I think you have more on your mind than your father,” she said, probing as only a mother could. “Duke suggested that you care a great deal for Mrs. Ashier. I think he may be right.”

Boyd sighed. “Duke talks too much.”

“Mrs. Ashier seems like a nice young lady.”

“She is, Mother, but she’s not for me. Or rather, I’m not for her.”

“Why not? She seemed smitten with you this morning in the sleigh. And I’ve seen the looks you two exchange in church. What’s the problem?”

“I’m a saloon owner. Claire can’t see past that.”

“My sight isn’t what it used to be, but I know what I saw this morning. That girl wasn’t looking at a saloon owner. She was looking at a man she desired.”

Boyd rolled his eyes. Women saw romance in everything. He picked up the metal spatula and cut a slice of apple pie. “Want a piece?”

“No.” She tugged his coat sleeve. “Come here.”

He laid down the spatula and followed her to the kitchen door.

She pointed at Evelyn and Radford, who were side-by-side on the ‘parlor sofa with a sleepy William and Rebecca flopped across their laps. “Look at your brothers,” she said, her gesture encompassing Kyle and Amelia who had returned to the settee after supper. Kyle held his son with one arm, and his wife with the other, while joking with Amelia’s mother and Jeb. “That’s happiness and fulfillment.” She nodded toward Duke, who sat alone in a wing chair sleeping like a well-fed bear.” That’s contentment.” She faced Boyd, “I see loneliness in you, and it breaks my heart.”

He sighed and guided her back into the kitchen. “I’m fine, Mother. I’m not lonely, I’m just pining for another piece of pie.”

She swatted his arm. “Let me put some pudding and tarts in a basket for you to take home.” A few minutes later she handed the basket to him.

“Gads, Mother, this was supposed to be pudding and tarts, not a feast for a family of twelve.”

“You’re too skinny. You need to get yourself a wife who will cook for you.”

“I’ve got Sailor. Why would I need a wife?”

A wistful look filled her eyes. “Take another look in the parlor on your way out.”

He did, and all he could think about on the way home was Claire. Would her presence have made a difference tonight? Would having Claire in his arms have warded off the loneliness his perceptive mother had noticed?

Of course it would have. His discomfort this evening wasn’t a matter of him wanting Claire in his arms. The problem was that a saloon owner’s arms would never be acceptable to Claire.

“As soon as they locked Larry in jail, I boarded the first available train,” Anna said.

Claire’s heart softened, and she stoked the parlor fireplace, knowing it would be a long time before bed. Anna needed a friend to talk to and a safe place to rest for a while. Claire understood. She was in the same place only a short time ago.

They talked through the evening, feeling safe and warm beside the fireplace.

Until someone knocked on the door.

Claire gasped and jerked upright in her chair. Anna leapt to her feet and they stared at each other in fear.

“It can’t be Larry,” she said, but the terror in her eyes made Claire’s heartbeat accelerate.

Who else could it be? No decent human being would call on someone at ten o’clock in the evening.

Anna followed her to the foyer. Claire—peeked out the window, but it had grown too frosty to see through clearly. She only knew there was a man at her door.

She took her revolver from the closet then dangled it behind her skirt, praying she wouldn’t accidentally shoot herself in the leg. Her first encounter with Boyd had revealed her dreadful lack of skill with the gun.

Claire signaled for Anna to stay hidden behind the door then she unlocked it and pulled it open two tiny inches. To her surprise, Boyd Grayson stood on her porch holding a huge wicker basket that emitted the delicious aroma of turkey and plum pudding.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, boldly stepping into her foyer without being invited inside.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, relieved that it wasn’t Larry barging into her home.

“Delivering a basket of goodies from my mother.”

“It’s ten o’clock.”

“I’m always hungry at this time of night.” He held the basket out to her. “My mother packed enough for a family of twelve.”

“Thank you, but I can’t accept this.” She slipped her hand into her pocket and closed her fingers around the carving he’d given her. “I appreciate the gesture, but you know how I feel about accepting gifts from you.”

“It’s not a gift from me. It’s a gesture of kindness during the holiday. My mother will be disappointed to know her hard work went into the garbage.”

Claire couldn’t refuse without feeling rude and unappreciative. “Well... thank you. Would you put it on the desk?” she asked, unable to take the basket from him because of the revolver she was hiding at her side.

He leaned forward to set it on the desk, but spotted Anna hiding behind the door. His eyes narrowed, and he glanced at Claire. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were entertaining.”

“Anna’s my... guest tonight.” She closed the door against the biting cold. “This is Anna Levens, a friend of mine.”

He took in Anna’s appearance and greeted her with a nod, but his eyes cut back to Claire. “Are you ladies in need of anything?”

He knew. Somehow he knew that Anna was taking refuge with her. His power of intuition and his gentle inquiry touched Claire.

“I can take a room here tonight, if you like.”

“No. Thank you for offering,” she said, warmed by his concern. “Anna and I will be fine. We have a basket of delicious-smelling food to eat, a fire to warm us, and I have my gun to keep us safe.” She lifted the revolver to show him.

He clamped his hand over the barrel and angled it away from his chest. “You really need to get rid of this thing before you shoot yourself—or someone else.”

“It’s the only protection I have.”

“In your hands, this gun can be more harm than good.” His fingers circled her wrist, and he nodded at the revolver. “Let go.”

She sighed and released her grip on the gun.

He opened the chamber of the revolver, and his eyes glinted with disapproval. “This is loaded!”

“I know.”

“You could have blown a hole in my chest.”

“Nonsense. I wasn’t even aiming at you.”

“That is what terrifies me.”

Wariness settled in Anna’s eyes as she backed against the desk. “I’ll put the basket in the kitchen,” she said then grasped the handle and rushed to the kitchen.

Boyd sighed. “Looks like you both need protecting.”

Claire straightened her shoulders. “We’ll be fine.” She held out her hand, palm up. “Please return my gun.”

“I’d rather not.”

“If you don’t, I’ll report it stolen and tell your brother that you took it.”

“Claire, I’m genuinely afraid that you’re going to wound yourself with this weapon.”

“Nonsense. I keep it in the closet.”

“You have no idea how to handle it. Nor do you know how to aim it.”

“Well, I won’t have to do either as long as I’m not threatened again.”

He sighed. “Are we back to that note again?”

His look stung her conscience. “No. I believe you about the note.”

“Honestly?”

She nodded. She really did.

“Thank you. That’s the best gift I’ve been given tonight.” His gaze shifted to her mouth. “Unless you’d care to top it with a kiss.”

Her heart leapt and she stepped away from him. “You’d better not have that mistletoe in your pocket.”

His lips quirked, but he shook his head. “It wouldn’t work a second time.” He nodded toward the closet. “Is that where you keep your gun?”

“Put it on the back corner shelf.” She opened the closet door and he put the gun away.

When he turned back, he was wearing a frown. “I assume Anna is running from someone?”

“Yes, her husband. He’s in jail for killing a man. The problem is, Anna doesn’t know how long he’ll be there.”

“And you took her in knowing this?”

“What was I supposed to do? She had nowhere else to go.”

He opened his mouth then gave her an understanding nod. “If he should show up, do not confront him.”

“I have my gun.”

“Which you do not know how to use.” He placed a finger across her lips to stop her argument. “Come get me. Don’t argue with him. Don’t try to protect Anna. Slip out the back and come get me immediately. Understand?”

She nodded.

“I mean it, Claire. If the man killed someone, he could be deadly to you or Anna.”

A rush of fear made her nauseous, and she pressed her hand to her churning stomach.

“I’m right across the street. Just let me know if you need me.”

“Thank you,” she said, suddenly wishing she wouldn’t have been so quick to decline his offer of taking a room.

He cupped her jaw and studied her so intently, a flush of weakness stole through her body. “Every time I look at you, I want to kiss you.”

Her stomach dipped. No wonder women swooned at his feet.

He stood so close, looked so handsome, smelled so good, she couldn’t help being attracted to him. But it was more than his handsome face and warm charm that drew her. She was touched by his natural inclination to protect her and Anna. He would protect anybody in danger. He couldn’t help himself. The honorable man in him wouldn’t allow him to turn a blind eye, to ignore a person in need. Why hadn’t she seen that before?

Her heart begged her to forget that he owned a saloon and was unsuitable for her. But she couldn’t. No matter what his heroic impulses, or how handsome and seductive he was, he wasn’t the man for her. No man was for her.

“Thank you for the sleigh ride and the visit to the cemetery.” She peeked at him from beneath her lashes. “It meant a lot to me.”

“I was glad to do it.”

“It was kind of your mother to send the basket of food. Please thank her for me. Anna and I will enjoy every morsel, I’m sure.”

“I’ll tell her.” He reached for the doorknob to let himself out. “Lock your doors tonight.”

“Boyd?”

He hesitated with his hand on the door handle.

“The castle is magnificent,” she blurted, unable to let him leave without telling him how much the gift meant to her.

A soft smile crept across his lips, “So are you, Claire.”

He stepped outside and pulled the door closed behind him.

She locked up then peered out the frosted window, finding herself in a wonderful, harrowing new danger.

Boyd was the magnificent one, bringing her the basket of holiday cheer, promising to defend her against the dangers in her life. But he didn’t realize that he was the biggest danger of all. He was tempting her to take a risk with a man... completely unsuitable for her.