Grayson Brothers Series Boxed Set (4 books in 1) (25 page)

“Do you ever wish for anything?” she asked quietly, believing that inside every heart there lived an unfulfilled longing, a private hope, a secret dream lost in the shadows of obligation and duty.

“Sometimes I wish you had another mole... right here,” he said, his eyes twinkling as he touched a fingertip to the corner of her lip. She wrinkled her nose at his teasing and his expression grew tender, his smile fading as he gazed down at her. “I have no wishes, Tomboy. All my heart could ever hope to hold is right here in my arms.”

Fredonia, New York,

May 1871

Cold spring rain pounded across Kyle Grayson’s broad back. He hunched his shoulders as lightning sliced a jagged white line across the sky. The desire to find cover for his skittish gelding warred with his need to reach Tom Drake’s sawmill and discover why the man was betraying him.

Tom Drake had been friends with Kyle’s father for years. Despite being competitors all their life, the men had respected each other, and when Kyle’s father died five years ago, Tom had shown Kyle how to manage his father’s sawmill business. Although Tom was twice Kyle’s age and still a competitor, they had formed a deep, respectful friendship with each other. Now, for some unknown reason, Tom was changing, and Kyle’s instincts warned him to beware.

It took him half an hour to ride to Tom’s mill on Shumla Road, but the cold rain hadn’t diluted his anger or washed away the ache of betrayal in his chest. Though the crew was gone and the saws were silent, Tom’s mill was alive with the storm. Thunder rumbled to Kyle’s left and streaks of blinding white light ripped open the sky with brilliant razor-like fingers. His gelding shied, but Kyle lifted his face to the wild, snapping air and inhaled the energy of the storm.

Beneath the anger, raw pain pulsed through his veins. He’d trusted Tom. Five years of friendly competition, of coexisting profitably in a plentiful lumber market, and their shared delight in going nose to nose on big orders like the railroad contract had garnered respect and admiration for each other as well as a deep bond of honor Kyle would have died to protect. But he no longer knew what to expect from a man he’d thought was his friend.

Faint light glimmered from Tom’s office window just as Kyle had expected. Tom had taught him that any owner worth his sawdust maintained his books as meticulously as his saws. Kyle had followed Tom’s example by reconciling his books and preparing his bids each evening before leaving his own mill. If not for the need to collect money from Tom, Kyle would be at his desk instead of leaving his work unfinished.

Dragging in a breath of moist air, Kyle tried to calm himself, to think clearly—and give Tom Drake the benefit of doubt, one last time.

He backhanded the rain from his eyes and entered the office where Jeb Kane, Tom’s mill foreman, was leaning against a tall wooden file cabinet covered with a sundry of saw parts. Kyle had known Jeb nearly as long as he’d known Tom, and admired the man.

Tom glanced up in surprise before a smile of welcome filled his face. “What are you doing out in this storm?”

Kyle didn’t return the smile.

Tom’s expression flattened. “Has something happened?”

Kyle shook his head. “I just need to talk to you.”

Tom pressed his fist to his heart. “From the look on your face, I thought someone had died. My heart’s jumping like a bullfrog. What’s so important that you would plow through this rain and scare ten years off my life?”

“I need the money for that section of pine you bought from me. It’s been three months.” Kyle hated confronting Tom, but being forthright and putting business first had helped him live through his father’s death, the hard struggle of building a small lumber empire with his three brothers, and watching the woman he’d planned to marry take her vows with his eldest brother instead of himself. Despite the pain and setbacks, Kyle had survived. He’d been hardened by the experiences, but they had made him wiser. Dealing with his problems head-on had made him a successful and respected businessman. He wasn’t about to start dancing around the truth at this point in his life. Not even for Tom Drake.

Tom sighed. “Jeb and I were just discussing that problem. My saw broke down again last week and it set me back a bit. Can you give me another couple of weeks?”

Even though Kyle suspected he was being railroaded, he couldn’t force a negative response from his mouth. “I’ll need it soon. I ordered another saw for my mill.”

“I heard. I’m sorry about holding you up like this.”

“Are you?”

Tom’s brows furrowed. “What are you driving at, son?”

At one time being called
son
had made Kyle feel less alone, now it made him angry that Tom’s greed was breaking that bond between them. “This is the third time you’ve put me off, Tom. I’m beginning to think you want to stop me from expanding my business.”

Tom’s chin jerked up as if Kyle had punched him. “Would you like me to forget you just said that?”

“I’d like you to be honest with me.”

Tom’s eyes darkened. “Have you ever known me to lie?”

“No,” Kyle answered honestly. “Nor have I ever known you to renege on a deal. But you’re holding me back and I want to know if it’s intentional. Is my mill getting too big for your comfort?”

Tom’s face flamed and he pointed at the door. “Go back outside and let the rain beat some sense into your head before I’m tempted to do it myself.”

In a physical match Kyle could have taken both Tom and Jeb, who were at least twenty years his senior, but regardless how upset he felt about Tom’s betrayal, Kyle could never harm either of the men he considered friends. “I want to know why you’re playing this game with me.”

Tom slammed his fist on his desk, his body visibly shaking. “This isn’t a game, just an embarrassment I have to live with.”

Jeb moved toward the desk. “Calm down, Tom. Doc Finlay warned you about getting upset.”

Tom pointed a shaking finger at Kyle. “You listen to me, young man. Your father and I tangled over every stand of timber in this county for twenty years while we built our mills, but we never cheated each other. We played fair and never doubted each other’s word no matter how tense the competition got between us. We even managed to become good friends through all of that.” Tom grimaced and planted his fists on his desk. His arms shook and he gulped in deep breaths, but he continued in a harsh, strained voice. “When your pa died, I treated you like my own son and taught you how to survive in this business. How can you stand here and tell me I’m trying to cheat you?”

Shame filled Kyle. Tom
had
shown him how to keep his family sawmill from going under. While Radford had been too tormented by his war memories to stay and help Kyle with their family sawmill, Kyle had shouldered the responsibility of supporting his mother and two younger brothers. He’d managed it by working hard and running the mill with an iron fist. He’d survived because Tom had shown him how.

“Dammit, Kyle,” Tom whispered, swaying over his desk. “I can’t do this now. I’m not... feeling well.”

Kyle and Jeb sprang forward together, but neither of them reached Tom before he collapsed on the floor with his fists pressed to his chest. They knelt beside him, but when Kyle felt Tom’s heaving chest, panic filled his own. “Take my horse and go for the doctor!” Kyle commanded, so used to being in charge that he issued the order without a second thought. “Hurry!”

Jeb jerked to his feet and raced out the door, leaving Kyle with his own heart thundering.

Tom’s gaze locked on Kyle. “I... helped you.”

“I know. I’m sorry I pushed you about the money, Tom. I shouldn’t have doubted you.” Kyle stared at his friend, feeling helpless in the face of Tom’s struggle. “You could have used your experience against me all those years ago, Tom,” he said, using his voice to keep his friend conscious and focused on something other than his pain. “Instead, you made me a good businessman. You challenged me to educate myself and compete with you man to man. I’ve always meant to repay you for that. I’ve just never known how.”

Tom gritted his teeth and panted. Sweat beaded his forehead. “Take care of Victoria... and Amelia.”

“Of course. Until you’re on your feet again.”

Tom’s face grew pale, but his gaze stayed locked on Kyle. “My daughter...”

“Amelia is fine,” Kyle assured him, knowing the pretty schoolmarm would be safely tucked in her room behind the little white schoolhouse in Laona at this time of the evening.

“She needs a... husband.”

“She needs you, Tom. So does your wife. Jeb will be back with the doctor soon. Just stay calm until they get here.”

“M-marry her.”

What?
Kyle was definitely attracted to Tom’s daughter, and would never forget the kiss he had stolen from Amelia at her father’s lumberyard years earlier, but he had suffered enough heartache for a lifetime and had no interest in pursuing marriage. Not even with a gorgeous woman like Amelia Drake. Bachelorhood suited him perfectly.

Tom gripped Kyle’s forearm. “Keep him away from her.”

“Who?”

Tom shuddered.

Kyle gripped his arm. “Keep who away?”

Tom gasped. “Tell them... I love them and I... I did my best.” A hard shudder passed through his body and he arched against the dirty pine planks of his office floor. He dug his fingers into Kyle’s forearm. “Please, son. Promise me.”

Guilt swamped Kyle. Despite Tom’s recent behavior, Kyle owed this man more than harsh words and hurtful accusations. “Of course I’ll take care of your wife and daughter,” he said, trying to ease the anxiety in Tom’s eyes. “I promise. Now stop worrying. It’s not helping you right now.”

Pain streaked across Tom’s face and a dazed expression filled his eyes.

Kyle’s stomach clenched and his throat filled with denial as he realized he was watching his friend’s life slipping away. “Tom!”

Slowly, the deep lines in Tom’s face eased as his tense body relaxed on the pine floorboards.

Kyle grabbed the man’s limp shoulders and shook him, trying to jar him back to consciousness. “Tom!” he shouted. Another fierce shake loosened Tom’s jaw, but no air passed his blue lips.

“Breathe dammit!”

Kyle shouted the order a second time, loud enough to rattle the windows, but Tom Drake couldn’t breathe. He was dead.

Amelia Drake propped her forehead in her hand and listened to the rain pummel the windows. It echoed across her empty schoolroom in Laona as she read a page in her teaching handbook—for the fourth time. To her increasing irritation, the words remained a jumble of nothingness. Between the noise of the storm and her wandering thoughts, she couldn’t concentrate on her work for a minute.

The desk was distracting her again. Amelia slapped the book closed and shoved away from the massive pile of oak huddled in front of her like a mountain of secrets. She squeezed her eyes closed, but her imagination soared and fanned her private fantasies until her insides melted with longing. She craved the wild, reckless passion that had caused Miss Danby, the former schoolteacher, to toss away her teaching career and make love to a poor furniture maker on her own desk—the very desk Amelia was forced to work at each day.

There would never be a Gordon Prues coming to rescue Amelia from the life of sameness and solitude she’d been living since replacing Miss Denby. Amelia would continue to spend her hours with her students, and when they went home to their families each evening, she would stay behind in a cold, empty schoolhouse feeling her youth ebbing away. To know she would never experience anything as grand or exciting as Miss Denby’s passionate affair tore a vicious wound in Amelia’s soul.

Her own reckless actions had condemned her to this life of spinsterhood.

She should have said no when Richard Cameron had pushed her to make love with him.

A violent crack of thunder shook the building and lightning illuminated the damp, musty-smelling room. She crossed to the window and rested her arms on the sill, gazing up at the angry evening sky, wishing she dared to step outside and feel the rain sting her skin, to feel free and alive for a few stolen minutes. But Philmore Bentley, president of the school board, and his nosy wife, Eva, lived next door. If they saw her outside after dark, she would be severely reprimanded.

Life as a teacher was painfully restrictive, but it was a virtuous, respectful position that she had needed after her disastrous affair with Richard. For four years she had been trying to live within the board’s strict dictates, but her true nature bubbled and spit behind her facade like a volcano on the brink of erupting.

Thunder rolled overhead and the front door creaked open. She shook her head and turned away from the window. Closing the door was a lesson she’d failed to teach any of her students. With a resigned sigh, she headed toward the front of the building to close it.

The shadowy outline of a man suddenly filled the doorway.

Amelia stopped mid-stride.

Runnels of rain slid off the wide shoulders of the man’s coat. He pushed the door closed against the wind, trapping her inside with him.

She stumbled backward, wondering if she could make it to the door of her apartment and lock it before he could grab her.

As if the man sensed her panic, he lifted the dripping hat off his head to reveal a handsome, familiar face. Stunned by Kyle Grayson’s formidable presence in her humble schoolroom, Amelia couldn’t fathom what would bring him here, in the pouring rain no less.

“You’ll need your wrap,” he said. “Ray Hawkins is coming with a carriage to take you to your parents’ house. Your father collapsed with chest pains an hour ago.”

Fear slammed through her chest so violently she couldn’t breathe.

“I’m sorry,” Kyle said softly, his voice filled with grief. “The doctor didn’t arrive in time.”

Her body turned hot and her ears rang, but the cry echoing in her mind never left her gaping mouth. Backing away from Kyle and the horror of his words, Amelia shook her head. It couldn’t be true. Not
her
father. He’d started the fire in the schoolroom for her just this morning. He’d laughed and kissed her cheek before leaving to start his day at the mill. Just like he did every Thursday morning.

“Jeb and Doc Finlay took him home to your mother,” Kyle said, his eyes dark, his expression filled with regret. “They’re sending Ray down with the carriage for you. I told them I’d ride ahead and make sure you’d be ready.”

Her
father? He couldn’t be... he just... no!

“I’ll stay with you until Ray gets here.”

Amelia shook her head. An unstoppable cry squeezed from her throat and tears blurred her vision.

Kyle’s lips compressed and his nostrils flared, but his hard, unblinking gaze confirmed the truth.

“No... Oh, Kyle...” Amelia clapped her hands to her mouth as tears streamed over her fingers.

He caught her as she stumbled into his chest.

Sobbing, she shoved against him, trying to push him out the door. “Take me home.”

“Wait for the carriage. It’s storming.”

Was he insane? What did she care about a carriage when her father... when he... oh, dear... her mother needed her! And her father... her poor father...

She tore herself from his arms and bolted outside. Rain slapped her face and wind ripped her hair from its prim chignon, but she barely felt it as she ran to Kyle’s horse.

As she struggled to put her foot in the high stirrup, she heard the door to the schoolhouse slam shut. An instant later Kyle wrapped his strong hands around her waist. She gripped the saddle horn and hopped on one foot, frantically trying to hook her raised foot in the stirrup, but instead of lifting her onto the saddle, he tugged her back.

“Buck’s too skittish right now.”

She struggled against Kyle’s grip. “Release me!”

He held firm.

With an angry screech, she turned and slapped his wet face. The impact snapped his head back and stung her palm, but his look of shock didn’t stop her from reaching for the saddle horn again. She was going home, and she wasn’t waiting for a carriage.

The horse reared and danced away from her, but Amelia charged forward to grab the slippery stirrup. Her feet tangled in the hem of her muddy, wet dress and she stumbled into Buck’s side.

“Get back!” Kyle’s voice cracked like the loud burst of thunder as he dragged her away from the rearing horse. “Ray will be here soon. Get your wrap and wait inside.”

She refused to wait for a carriage or let Kyle take her back into the building. She faced him and struck his granite chest with her fists. Then she screamed with all the panic she felt bursting inside her. Even in the pouring rain and booming thunder, her neighbors would have heard the earsplitting scream. They would come outside and distract Kyle. Then she would take his horse and race for home.

He caught her chin and forced her to look at him. “It’ll ruin you if you’re found out here with me.”

“My father’s dead, Kyle! Do you think I care?” She opened her mouth, intending to scream until he released her, but Kyle hooked an arm around her waist and crushed her against him. He cupped the back of her head and pulled her open mouth against his thick-muscled shoulder.

Bound hard by his arms and partially sheltered from the rain, Amelia felt she’d been pulled beneath the protective limbs of a giant tree. Her heart and mind hung suspended in a weird silence that amplified Kyle’s hard breathing and the sound of rain splattering against her skull.

The crack of a gunshot ripped through the night and jerked Amelia back to the present, to death, and the searing pain that shredded her heart.

Kyle’s hand shot out and snagged the reins of Buck’s bridle before the gelding could bolt.

“Unhand her this instant!”

They both jerked their heads toward Philmore Bentley who was marching across his soggy yard with a rifle in his hands. Eva Bentley, the strictest board member and town gossip, stood on her porch squinting in their direction.

Kyle urged Amelia away from him and the deadly end of Philmore’s gun, but she clung to his hand. “Help me, Kyle. I need to get home.”

Philmore cocked his gun. “I warned you to get away from her.”

“Phil!” Kyle yelled through the rain. “It’s Kyle Grayson.”

Kyle pulled off his hat and faced Phil and his nosy wife.

Amelia yanked his sleeve. “Put me on your horse!”

“What’s going on over there?” Phil demanded, as he lowered the nose of his gun toward the grass.

Amelia could feel a scream of hysteria rising in her throat and knew if it left her mouth, she’d scream until they hauled her off to the asylum. “Now, Kyle. Please.”

“There’s been an accident and I’m taking Miss Drake to her parents’ house.” He turned to Amelia and girded her waist with his fingers. “Put your hands on my shoulders and jump when I tell you to.”

“That young lady needs a chaperone with her!” Mrs. Bentley yelled, charging off her front porch, her intent to stop them obvious in the militant thrust of her jaw.

“Jump!” Kyle whispered.

The instant Amelia bent her knees and pushed, she was airborne. The horse shifted as she hit the saddle, but Kyle held her steady.

“Hook your knee over the horn and hang on. I’m coming up behind you.”

She’d barely managed to do so before she felt the sideways shift of the saddle as Kyle stepped into the stirrup and swung himself up behind her.

“You stop right there, Mr. Grayson!” Mrs. Bentley stood below them with her fists planted on her plump hips. The rain plastered her hair to her head and her chest heaved from splashing across the school yard.

“Beg pardon, Mrs. Bentley, but I’ve brought Miss Drake distressing news of her father’s death and I need to get her home immediately.”

“Oh, good heavens,” she said, her expression shifting from outrage to a mixture of shock and sympathy. “I’m so sorry, dear. Phil will get the carriage and we’ll take you home right away.”

Not about to wait for Phil or explain that a carriage was already on the way, Amelia kicked the gelding’s broad side and the horse lunged forward. Kyle’s arm clutched her waist, but she had to grab the horse’s coarse mane to keep herself seated.

“You’re going to kill us,” Kyle said, but he lifted Amelia off the saddle, settled himself behind her then let her bottom slip back into the cradle of his thighs. He pulled her against his chest then folded the sides of his jacket around her shivering body. “Hold on,” he said then kicked his horse into a full gallop out Liberty Street.

Amelia didn’t know if Kyle meant she should hold on to his coat or the horse, but the feel of his strong arm around her made her head reel. She felt trapped yet oddly protected by the warmth of his hard body. Still, his arms didn’t keep her from falling apart. She wept hard as they raced past Kyle’s sawmill in Laona and turned onto the road leading to Jamestown. Thankfully they would only travel a little over a mile to Shumla Road. Her teeth chattered and her shoulders quaked despite the warm nest Kyle provided with his body.

“We’ll be there soon,” he said near her ear as the rain and tears stung her eyes.

“What happened?” she asked between sobs. “Were you with Papa?”

“Yes.”

Although Kyle had to raise his voice to be heard, his grief was apparent. She felt the tightening of his arm around her waist and wished she could bury her face in his shoulder and escape the pain that lacerated her heart. Instead she let the rain slash her cheeks and mingle with her grief as she clung to the thundering beast beneath her.

As he turned onto Shumla Road, Kyle flung up his arm to flag her father’s head sawyer who was driving the oncoming carriage. “Ray!” Kyle yelled. “I’ve got Miss Drake with me!”

Ray Hawkins pulled the carriage to the edge of the road and Kyle slowed his horse. Amelia crushed Kyle’s hand around the reins. “Don’t stop. It’ll take forever in the carriage.”

He hesitated then waved Ray back in the direction from which he’d come. “I’ll take her the rest of the way,” he yelled then nudged his horse back into a gallop and left the carriage behind.

“Papa started the fire for me this morning.” She needed to tell Kyle that her father had been perfectly alive that morning and none of this made any sense. “His chest hurt, but he thought he was getting a cold.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

She heard the apology in Kyle’s voice and knew he was hurting, too. Her father had spoken of Kyle with pride on many occasions. Now her beloved father would never speak again. His arms wouldn’t hug her anymore and keep her from feeling alone in the world. She would never hear his laugh or watch him slap his thigh when something struck his funny bone. He wouldn’t knock on her door and break the monotony of her silent evenings by sitting at her too small table drinking her awful coffee.

Stinging rain streamed across her face and neck, but she couldn’t close her mouth against the sobs erupting from her throat.

Kyle’s arm tightened around her shuddering waist. “Your father said to tell you that he loves you. He wanted you to know that.”

Her throat ached and she choked on her tears. How like her father to spend the last minutes of his life thinking about her. He’d continually pushed her to find a man who would make her happy, even though he knew no decent man would want a soiled bride. Amelia had reminded him each week that she wasn’t allowed to marry while under contract as a teacher, and that her father’s love was enough for her. Despite her chronic loneliness, it really
had
been. She’d adored him.

Feeling her composure eroding in the rain, she sought something solid to hold on to. She found Kyle’s hand at her waist and laced her fingers with his, praying his warm grip, and the lights in the distance, would help her face what was waiting for her.