Grayson Brothers Series Boxed Set (4 books in 1) (27 page)

As if she sensed their stares, Amelia released his hand and angled her back to them, making it look as if she were simply turning to head in the other direction. “I need to talk to you alone,” she said quietly then lifted her skirt a modest half inch and made her way back to her mother’s side.

Kyle didn’t want to be alone with Amelia, especially now that she was touching him and looking at him with her expression all soft and needy. He didn’t want to be needed. Needy women were dangerous. So were the intense stares of Eva and Philmore Bentley who looked as though they were expecting a marriage announcement from him and Amelia after the funeral.

He nodded to the older couple and gave Catherine a discreet glance of acknowledgment, but it was Jeb Kane who caught and held his attention.

The mill foreman crossed the room and met Kyle at the foot of the magnificent cherry staircase that rose in a slow arc to the second floor. Expecting a glare filled with animosity, Kyle was surprised that the foreman’s eyes held only sorrow and sympathy. “Sad day,” Jeb said, shaking Kyle’s hand.

“And one filled with regret, Jeb. Believe me, I had no idea Tom had been so ill.”

Jeb nodded as if acknowledging the sincerity in Kyle’s statement. “Tom kept his troubles to himself.”

“As I should have done. If you haven’t already told Victoria and Amelia what happened, I intend to, at a more appropriate time, of course.”

“Why add to their distress?”

“That’s the last thing I want to do, but you were there last night, Jeb. You know I upset Tom with my suspicions. How can I not tell them that I caused his collapse?”

“It upset Tom that you thought he was trying to hold you back. That man loved you and your accusation hurt him.”

Hearing it put so baldly drove a stake of shame straight through Kyle’s heart. More than anything, he wished he could roll back time. He would swallow the suspicion of Tom’s betrayal and accept Tom’s word without question.

There was nothing he could say now that would change what had happened, no apologies to Jeb or Amelia or Tom’s wife that would undo the damage. The only honorable thing to do was fulfill the vow he had made to Tom. He would do whatever it took to support Amelia and Victoria.

Jeb stretched his neck as if seeking a respite from his tight collar. “You’re an ambitious man, Kyle, but a good one just the same. Tom knew it. And I know it. You hurt Tom’s pride, but you didn’t kill him. Tom may have been upset, but it was because he felt he let you down. He wouldn’t have wanted things left this way. Don’t crucify yourself over something you can’t change.”

Regardless of Jeb’s words, Kyle knew he would never forgive himself. He’d sensed something bothering Tom for a long time; whatever it was, it had destroyed a good man. And Kyle had unwittingly sent that man to his grave.

“Come on,” Jeb said, turning toward the pastor who was waiting beside the coffin. “It’s time to carry Tom out.”

After minutes of maneuvering through doorways, Kyle, Jeb, and six other men moved the coffin outside into the evening air. Then they made the long trek across a field to a tiny family cemetery surrounded by lilac trees bursting with fragrant purple blossoms. The throbbing pain in Kyle’s shin made him clench his teeth, but it was nothing compared to the ache in his heart as he carried Tom Drake to his grave.

Kyle managed the walk and the struggle of lowering the casket to its final resting place, but as they concluded the ceremony and returned to the house, he stayed to the back of the crowd to hide his increasing limp. After endless minutes of standing in the parlor, he was light-headed and nauseated by the hot pain burning up his leg. He braced his hand on the back of a chair, but discovered too late that he’d caught his fingers in the back of a woman’s hair.

He glanced down as Amelia stood up. She grabbed at the back of her chignon that was now falling free of its pins. She turned and stared at Kyle, her eyebrows raised in surprise.

For the first time all day, he saw her face bloom with color. His own face heated. “Sorry, Miss Drake. I meant to rest my leg a moment and didn’t realize the chair was occupied.”

“What’s wrong with your leg?” she asked, gathering two thick strands that had fallen free then tucking them into the mass of hair she was holding behind her head.

“He hit it with a maul this afternoon,” Duke offered.

Boyd turned from his discussion with Radford and Evelyn. “Was that the same one you hit last week?”

Kyle scowled at his younger brothers, praying the conversation their mother was having with Agatha Brown and Victoria Drake on the other side of the parlor would keep her occupied. If she knew he’d hurt himself, she’d pester him to death until she made certain it wasn’t a serious injury.

“Maybe Doc Finlay should look at it,” Amelia suggested.

“It’s nothing. Really,” Kyle said when she cast a doubtful glance at his leg.

She plucked the pins from her hair then gathered it quickly and twisted it up again. She was efficient and made quick work of it, but not before Kyle admired the multitude of colors that shifted through that long mass of chestnut hair. Then he remembered how gorgeous it had looked last night slicked back from her face and dripping with rain.

“Excuse me,” she said, turning away. As she wove her way through the crowd, Kyle watched the sway of her skirt and cursed himself for doing so.

Boyd whacked Kyle on the shoulder. “That is one beautiful and eligible lady who is definitely interested in you. Do yourself a favor and don’t be an ass this time.”

Kyle caught the uneasy look that passed between Radford and Evelyn, but he knew Boyd wasn’t trying to be cruel. He was offering sensible advice, but Kyle didn’t want it. Women were poison and he had no desire to have his heart ripped out again. The only safe woman was Catherine. She didn’t want a commitment or a man who would demand her heart. She wanted a friend and occasional intimacy, and that suited Kyle’s life perfectly.

To his embarrassment, Amelia came back with Doc Finlay. “Let’s have a look at that leg,” the doctor said, directing Kyle to the chair Amelia had just vacated.

Knowing he would cause more of a scene by balking, Kyle sat and pulled his pants leg to his knee.

Doc Finlay squatted and inspected Kyle’s purple-streaked, swollen leg.

Amelia looked on with a concerned expression that grew more queasy by the minute.

Focusing his gaze on the doctor’s balding head, Kyle sat in stony silence as the doctor probed the area along his shinbone that was turning the color of eggplant. Pain raced clear to his thigh, but Kyle clamped his teeth together, refusing to let anyone know how much it hurt.

“The gash will heal without stitches. Other than a lot of swelling, I can’t see any damage that won’t mend in a few weeks.” The doctor pulled the pants leg over Kyle’s injury then stood. “You might have a fragment of bone floating around your shin for the rest of your life that could cause some discomfort from time to time, but you’ll survive.”

Amelia’s face paled and her eyelids fluttered. The next thing Kyle knew she was falling forward into his arms.

The instant he realized he was holding her again with her bottom in his lap, he panicked. He looked for an empty chair or couch to deposit her on, but the house was packed with people. His heart pounded, whether from his quick reactions or simply panic at having Amelia in his arms again, he wasn’t certain, but he was desperate to get rid of her. Everyone crowded in to see what was happening, the Bentleys standing front and center, his own mother’s expression filled with concern as she guided Victoria Drake directly toward them.

Catherine turned away.

“Sit still so I can see what I’m doing,” the doctor demanded.

With his heart hammering, Kyle sat with Amelia Drake passed out in his lap, her head lolling upon his shoulder while the doctor dug in his bag for smelling salts. The seconds seemed like hours as the heat of her limp body burned into his. Her slim derrière rested on the most inappropriate part of Kyle’s anatomy, but he couldn’t readjust her without knowing smirks from his brothers and those who had gathered around him.

So Kyle sat there not trusting himself to breathe. Touching Amelia was like rubbing a sore muscle; a perverse, intimately entwined feeling of pain and pleasure that his aching body craved.

The first thing Amelia saw when she opened her eyes was Kyle Grayson’s handsome face staring down at her. Frown lines sat above a fine straight nose. His lips were full and fit his face nicely. Anything less than a strong jaw would have ruined his looks, and his eyes nearly matched the rich brown of his hair.

Intriguing angles and contours tempted her to touch him. She glided her fingertips over the stern line of his mouth and over his cheek. The feel of firm skin beneath her palm and a pair of startled eyes staring down at her jerked her back to reality as abruptly as if he’d pinched her.

With an embarrassed gasp, she attempted to vault from the chair, but several pairs of hands kept her still, Kyle’s arms anchored around her waist.

“Wait a minute, missy.” Doc Finlay put a hand to her forehead. “You sit right there until I tell you otherwise.”

Amelia glanced at the faces gathered around her, saw Eva Bentley’s censuring look, and wanted to crawl behind the nearest piece of furniture. Kyle’s brothers watched with a mixture of concern and a flicker of amusement. Her mother looked frantic with worry.

The pounding in her chest left her short of breath and she feared she was going to faint again. Despite her efforts to remain upright, she trembled and sagged against Kyle’s chest. She turned her face toward the crook of his neck. “Get me out of here,” she whispered. “Please.”

“What did you say, honey?” her mother asked.

Mortified that her guests might have heard her, Amelia clutched Kyle’s hand.

“She needs some fresh air,” he said.

Amelia felt herself being gathered against Kyle’s body and propelled upward as he gained his feet. He stood with her draped over his hard arms in the middle of the parlor with everyone staring at them. His formidable expression revealed none of the trembling in his body or the pounding of his chest against Amelia’s side. “Excuse us,” he said then limped across the parlor, through the foyer, and out the front entrance without a single word of explanation.

An airy grunt came from his throat as he carried Amelia down the steps.

She glanced up in alarm. “Your leg!”

“Is killing me.”

“Then why on earth are you carrying me? Put me down.” She tensed in his arms, but instead of a grimace of pain, Kyle gave her a sad smile that made her world tilt.

“I’ll make it a bit farther, Miss Drake.”

She tried to ignore the bunching and shifting of his shoulder muscles as he carried her toward a wrought-iron bench beneath a maple tree, but it was impossible to ignore a man like Kyle Grayson. At sixteen years old, she’d had the same problem whenever Kyle visited her father’s sawmill. Despite being tense and too serious, he had been incredibly handsome and so mysteriously aloof that Amelia couldn’t resist watching him. In her father’s presence, she would share polite conversation with Kyle, but the minute her father was out of earshot, she had openly flirted. The more Kyle ignored her, the more desperately she’d craved a response. Finally, one spring evening Kyle pulled her behind a stack of lumber and kissed her. He gave her no warning and it wasn’t in the least romantic, but it was the most thrilling, earth-shaking experience Amelia had ever had in her life.

While she’d still been reeling from the momentous impact of her first kiss, Kyle warned her to quit playing with him then stormed across the mill to finish his business with her father. Amelia had stood in ankle-deep sawdust with her heart pounding and her fists clenched, cursing him even as she prayed he would come back and kiss her again.

But he hadn’t come back to her, nor had he shown any interest in doing so the rest of that summer or during his many subsequent visits to her father’s lumberyard. She hadn’t forgotten Kyle or his incredible kiss, but she’d eventually turned her attention to Richard, who had flattered her sore ego.

From beneath her lashes, Amelia peeked at Kyle’s handsome face only inches from her own. He was still arrogant and aloof and too handsome for his own good, but she would gladly overlook all of that if he would kiss her again and make the world disappear like he had that day five years ago. She would give anything to escape the agonizing heartache tearing her apart right now.

Kyle lowered her onto the bench then collapsed beside her. Air hissed between his clenched teeth as he eased his throbbing leg out in front of him.

“A cold compress might help relieve the swelling.”

“I’ll be all right,” he said, wishing she’d stop being so concerned about him. Every time she looked at him with those sad brown eyes it gouged his conscience. As soon as he caught his breath, he was making a straight line toward the carriage.

“Thank you for taking me out of there.”

He nodded, relieved to escape the house as well.

“Did you see Eva’s livid expression? The school board members are furious with me.”

Kyle had been more concerned about the look in Catherine’s eyes. He couldn’t tell if it had been surprise or pain in her expression, but he would have preferred to spare her either.

“I’ll probably lose my position,” Amelia said. “I’m expected to protect my reputation at all times. In all circumstances.”

“That’s absurd.” Kyle stared at her. “You were out of your mind with grief.”

“The school board doesn’t see it that way.” She lowered her lashes and smoothed the pad of her thumb across her palm. “My curfew is dusk unless I’m with my mother or father, or at a function approved by the board. I can’t wear bright colors. No consorting with men outside immediate family, even in emergencies. I’m not allowed to marry while under contract.” She paused for a breath and met his eyes. “I think you understand where this is leading.”

“Why do you agree to live like this?” he asked, feeling as if he were watching a favorite pet struggling against its leash. He could never live his life under such restrictions.

“I’m a teacher. It’s expected of me.”

“What does being a teacher have to do with the color of your dress?”

“I don’t know,” she said softly. “I think the board is afraid of making the same mistake that they made with Miss Denby. I can’t blame them for being cautious.”

“Climbing onto a horse because you needed help is a far cry from climbing onto a desk because you... well, the point is, we’ve done nothing wrong. They shouldn’t punish you because of another woman’s misconduct. You were upset last night. It was desperation that drove you to ride with me. That’s all.”

“I know, but my desperation could cost me my position.”

Kyle pinched the bridge of his nose, wishing his leg would stop throbbing. “I’ll make Phil understand that nothing improper happened,” he said, lowering his hand. “If you or your mother need anything, though, I’d appreciate it if you’d let me know.”

“Thank you.” She inhaled as if trying to decide how to voice the question he saw in her eyes then she released her breath in a rush. “Was my father aware of what was happening to him when he collapsed?”

Unprepared for her direct question, Kyle remained silent. Though he wanted to tell Amelia about that night and clear his conscience, Jeb was right, now wasn’t the time. She had enough worry without him adding burdens to her narrow shoulders.

“Did Papa say anything? Other than
he loves me
?”

He sure did. But no matter what Kyle owed Tom, wedding his daughter was out of the question. Tying himself to a woman who needed him but didn’t want him was a recipe for disaster. Kyle had made that painful mistake once and had learned his lesson. Evelyn had needed him but she hadn’t loved him.

He glanced at Amelia and wondered if there was a special man in her life who might step forward and offer to keep and protect her now that her father was gone, but he knew he couldn’t pry into her personal life. Still, Tom had warned Kyle to keep someone away from her. Perhaps it was a man whom Tom didn’t approve of, a man Amelia was seeing in secret.

“Your father asked me to look after you and your mother,” Kyle said, searching for a way to broach the subject without offending her.

“Are you saying Papa knew he was dying?” she asked, her voice filled with pain.

The silence lengthened as Kyle tried to decide if it would cause her more heartache to know that her father had been aware of his impending death and appeared resigned to it, or if it would be kinder to tell her that he had been oblivious.

Her fingers curled lightly over his forearm. “Please. I need to know.”

Kyle couldn’t look at her knowing he’d been the one to cause the pain in her eyes. “Your father seemed more concerned about you and your mother than himself.”

“He would.”

Her quiet assurance fueled Kyle’s self-condemnation. Tom Drake had been a man of integrity. If Kyle had reminded himself of that before he went storming into Tom’s office, maybe he wouldn’t be trying to avoid Amelia’s tortured eyes and the feeling that he was being crushed by his own guilt.

Maybe he should just tell her everything. Just blurt it out and let her hate him. He could live with that. He deserved it. But she didn’t deserve more heartache when she was suffering so much already.

“We’re not your obligation, Kyle.” Their eyes met. “Not that I don’t appreciate your promise to Papa, or his concern for us. We’ll be all right.” She tried to smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Worry and fear lines etched her face and Kyle knew Amelia and her mother wouldn’t be all right at all. The urge to smooth away her frown caught him by surprise. Maybe it was the pain in her eyes, or the tiny line marring her forehead, that melted him, but whatever it was, it weakened his resistance, which scared him. Before he was stupid enough to lift his hand, he linked his fingers together and braced his elbows on his knees. He wouldn’t look at her. He would keep his promise to Tom, but he wouldn’t let this urge to protect Amelia go any farther than financial support. She would have to find comfort from someone else.

“I wanted to talk with you privately,” Amelia said, breaking into Kyle’s thoughts, “because I’m hoping you can tell me what Papa’s mill is worth.”

Kyle’s protective instincts snapped to attention and he sat upright, his chest filling with fresh air. Amelia could only be asking for one reason. As if Tom Drake had climbed up out of his grave and kicked Kyle in the shin to get his attention, Kyle suddenly knew he’d found the perfect way to give Amelia and her mother security.

By buying Drake’s mill, Kyle could fulfill his promise to Tom, as well as make Grayson lumber the largest sawmill business in the county, which had been a dream of his for several years. Despite the poor timing of the huge financial undertaking it made sense to Kyle. He would discuss the investment with his brothers before making an offer, but he knew they would ultimately leave the burden of this decision on his shoulders.

“To me, your father’s lumberyard is worth more than anyone else will pay you.”

Amelia’s mouth dropped open.

“I assume you’re asking because your mother intends to sell it,” he said, beginning the process of assuming ownership of Drakes’ Sawmill. “I’ll need to discuss this with my brothers first, but Jeb can confirm the worthiness of our offer.”

Something in her expression shifted and her eyes sparked with life, as if a lantern had been lit in a dark house. She met his eyes with a boldness that unnerved Kyle. “Mama’s hoping I’ll use Papa’s mill as a dowry.”

Kyle’s heart jolted and he lunged to his feet. The pain in his leg, and the shock of Amelia’s comment, made him grab for the back of the bench to steady himself. He’d made a private vow the night Evelyn broke their engagement that he would never ask another woman for a promise she might not keep. Never would he put himself through that nightmare again. He was content to pour his heart into his sawmill. He could depend on his business.

“Sorry, Miss Drake, but I’m not interested in acquiring a wife.”

A bright flush spread across her cheeks and her shoulders stiffened as she stood to face him. “I wasn’t attempting to gauge your level of interest.”

She wasn’t? Then why had she mentioned using the mill as a dowry?

“If you want to buy the mill, you’ll have to approach my mother with your offer.”

Kyle reached out to stop her from leaving, to tell her he hadn’t meant to insult her, but she yanked her arm free and left him standing beside the bench feeling like an egotistical fool.