Grayson Brothers Series Boxed Set (4 books in 1) (94 page)

Faith shook her head. “This is no place for a boy”

Adam’s expression fell, but he kept quiet, his eyes begging Duke to convince her otherwise.

“I have to talk to my brothers first, but we have plenty of safe jobs for a boy Adam’s age.” And Radford couldn’t deny they needed an intelligent boy with a strong back around the mill.

Faith surveyed the lumberyard as if seeking evidence of a safe job. Adam looked for Duke’s brothers, who were in the yard finishing up for the day. Duke could tell when Adam spotted Radford; the optimism drained from the boy’s face and he hung his head.

“Never mind,” Adam said. “I have a job at the store, and Faith needs me at the greenhouse.”

But Duke knew Adam needed to be at the mill with other men he could watch and learn from. He needed a chance to become a man he could be proud of.

Faith made room for Iris on the scratchy wool blanket that she’d spread in the lumber wagon. Duke had filled the box with straw, and was taking all of them to Dunkirk to watch the Independence Day parade.

“It’s not a coach and four,” Iris said, “but it’ll get us there.”

“I like it.” Adam moved to the front to sit with Dahlia, who was spinning a tale for Cora about turning straw to gold. Tansy and Aster were in the back sharing Faith’s blanket.

“I couldn’t allow Duke to pay for the street rail for all of us,” Faith explained.

Iris lifted her eyebrows. “‘Duke’ is it? Hmmm, sounds like you two are getting friendly.”

Faith lifted her chin. “That was the plan, wasn’t it?”

Tansy patted Faith’s arm. “Ignore her, dahlin’. She’s jealous of your youth and beauty.”

“Of course she is. Our seven-month age difference has always come between us.”

Tansy’s mouth gaped. “Did I just hear sarcasm from you, child? Lord! You must stay away from Iris. She’ll turn you into a sarcastic, jealous viper like herself.”

Cyrus, who was up front with Duke and Patrick, clicked his tongue and started their wagon toward Dunkirk and the fireworks. Iris gripped the edge of the box and arched a black eyebrow at Tansy “No wonder you’re all aflutter. I didn’t realize Mr. Daaaahlin’ would be joining us.”

“Neither did I,” Tansy whispered.

“It must make you breathless to see him handle those massive horses.”

“God, yes.” Tansy pressed her palm to her heart. “I can’t keep my eyes off the man.”

Faith laughed with Aster and Iris.

“What?” Tansy glared at them with feigned innocence. “What is so humorous about a woman appreciating a man while he works?”

“Not a thing,” Iris said, “I’ve always enjoyed watching my male friends work.”

Tansy pursed her lips. “You have a filthy mouth, lady”

“No, dahlin’, it’s your filthy mind that twisted my words. And I’m not a lady.”

Tansy lowered her voice. “If I didn’t love you so much, I’d fill your feminine syringe bottle with peppermint tea.”

“Ooh, it sounds exhilarating.”

Faith hid her smile, but Aster howled from the belly, openly appreciating the bawdy humor that had kept them sane at the brothel.

“Mama, what are you all laughing about?” Cora asked.

“Yeah, what are you ladies doing back there?” Patrick hollered.

Faith felt like she’d been caught peeing in the straw. Two weeks ago she’d been furious with Iris for risking their reputation by acting too outrageous with Patrick, and here she was sharing brothel humor within earshot of the sheriff!

“Tansy almost fell off the wagon,” Iris said, lounging against the side of the wagon. “Don’t worry, Mr. Dahlin’, she’s still with us.”

Tansy leaned over and pinched Iris’s thigh. “I’m going to use an infusion made from poison ivy instead!”

Faith clapped her hand over her mouth to hide her laugh, loving her aunts despite, or maybe because of, their irreverent humor.

They left the wagon at Duke’s friend’s house on Seventh Street then they walked to Central Avenue to watch the parade. Crowds of people lined both sides of the street, and the crush pressed Faith against Duke’s hard body.

He stood behind her, but she could feel his torso shift as he leaned down to speak to her. “Best parade I’ve ever been to,” he said near her ear.

“The parade hasn’t started yet, Sheriff.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

His warm breath on her neck made her shiver in the July heat. If Cora and Adam weren’t standing beside her, she would risk a playful retort, but they were trapped in an endless crowd of people cheering as the first fire company marched toward them, their hose cart proudly leading the way as the marching band followed behind playing the national anthem.

Faith watched the long procession of fire companies pass. Then carriages with prominent citizens rolled by, followed by a cluster of bicycles that delighted Adam, and Cora, who had charmed her way onto Duke’s shoulders. When the last cyclist waved, the crowd followed the parade to Washington Square to hear a local reverend invoke a blessing on the nation, and the mayor read the Declaration of Independence.

Every surge and shift of the crowd brought Duke’s body against Faith’s. He touched her back with wide splayed fingers, making her skin tingle in five places. His thigh brushed hers when they strolled arm in arm. When he stood behind her, his groin occasionally nudged her bottom, warning that he was close enough to devour her. And God forgive her wanton ways, but she wished he would.

She was relieved when he took Cora and went to buy beverages for them. His flirting and teasing and hot kisses were making her crazy.

And so was Iris. The blasted woman was flaunting her desire for Patrick and not watching a word she said. Faith whispered to her to behave, but Iris was preoccupied with Patrick.

“Why aren’t you married, Patrick?”

“I’ve never had the urge.”

“I think you enjoy women too much to settle for just one.”

Faith nearly choked. Discreet flirting was one thing. But to have this reckless conversation in the middle of a crowded park was just begging for trouble. Especially when Iris and her exotic looks drew as much attention as the parade.

“It’s not the one-woman part that’s kept me a bachelor, sweetheart. I was waiting for the right woman.” He fit his palm to her waist and pulled her against him. “I was waiting for you,” he said in a sinfully husky voice.

To Faith’s utter shock, he pulled Iris into an alley as if she were a dockside hussy

By dusk, every nerve in Faith’s body was tense. Iris and Patrick had only slipped away for a minute, but it was long enough for Duke to notice their absence and raise an eyebrow at Patrick when the group rejoined and walked to the lake. The crowd gasped and sighed at the colorful display in the dark sky but all Faith could see was her future shattering like the fireworks and burning out one hope at a time.

How would she and her aunts build a respectable life here if they all behaved as if they still lived in a brothel?

Faith opened the doors and windows to air the smell of paint out of the house. Now that the walls were plastered, Tansy was painting like she was possessed. She was in Faith’s bedchamber talking to Cora when Faith entered the room.

“Look at that bland wall for the last time.” Tansy waved her hand in a grand arc. “I’m going to paint rolling hills of green grass, with buttercups and purple clover and lavender, and a little gray pony grazing by a crystal clear stream.”

Cora’s eyes widened. “We’re going to have a pony in our room?”

Tansy tittered. “Not a real one, dahlin’, but if it’s all right with your mother, I’ll paint a picture of one on your wall.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to leave it blue?” Faith asked.

Tansy’s expression fell. “I haven’t sketched or painted in fifteen years, but this big empty wall has inspired me to try. I thought a pony would make Cora happy. But if you’d rather leave it blue—”

“No. Go ahead. Cora will love it,” Faith said, remembering the half-finished drawing Tansy had left on their kitchen table years ago. Tansy had later tossed the beautiful sketch into the cookstove and declared her talent dead. Her talent wasn’t dead. Tansy was. Inside. But it warmed Faith’s heart to see that she was corning back to life and finding her desire to paint again.

While Cora was occupied watching Tansy, Faith slipped out of the bedchamber and found Iris painting the room she shared with Dahlia.

“Blue does not suit me,” Iris said, scowling at the wall. “I’d prefer something more dramatic, like red.”

“I’m not surprised. I think you’d choose the boldest, most outlandish of anything to get attention,” Faith said, unable to hide her irritation.

Iris gaped, her paintbrush suspended in mid-air.

“Don’t look at me like I have three heads. You know why I’m upset with you.”

“I’m afraid I don’t, but I think you’re going to tell me.”

Exasperated, Faith pushed the newly hung door shut to keep their conversation private. “Your behavior with Patrick last night was abominable.”

Iris sighed and lowered her paintbrush to her side. “The second that man smiles at me, I forget everything but him.”

“Then don’t see him in public.”

“Was I that bad?”

“You went into an alley with him, Aunt Iris! I can’t believe I was the only one in the crowd who noticed.”

“I won’t see him anymore.” She sighed, her contrition melting Faith’s anger. “I was going to stop anyhow.”

“Are you in love with him?”

“I don’t know. All I know is I’m in trouble.” She tossed her brush into the pail of paint. “I’ll tell him not to call anymore.”

“That’s not necessary. I’m just asking you to show some restraint in public and act like a respectable lady.”

“I’ll never be respectable, Faith. Two months ago I was a prostitute. How am I supposed to go from being a whore to a lady?”

“By trying.” Iris was making excuses because she was afraid. She was a fish out of water in this pretty little village. Patrick had hooked her, and she was fighting the tug of her heart. And for the first time, Faith understood how difficult this move was for her aunts. For her, it was a new beginning filled with hope; for them, it had to be a constant trial to shed their old ways and make themselves over into women they could barely recognize. But Iris’s struggle was greater, because her true personality bubbled and surged like a geyser, throwing forth intermittent jets of the irreverent, outrageous and loving woman she was inside.

“Iris, you’re not a prostitute anymore,” Faith said softly, feeling a new sympathy and understanding for all her aunts. Her previous annoyance fell by the wayside.

“Then who am I?”

“Anyone you want to be.”

Iris scoffed. “Not when you’ve lived my life. You know what you are every time a man ogles you.”

“Maybe you should ask Patrick what he sees when he looks at you. If you’re not afraid of his answer,” she added as she left the room.

On Wednesday afternoon Faith was watering herbs with Iris when Aster rushed into the greenhouse. “The sheriff left this for you,” she said, handing Faith a large cloth-wrapped bundle.

Faith’s heart skipped, and she set her watering can aside. This had to be her new dress for the lawn party Duke was taking her to this evening. He had invited her during the Fourth of July parade, but she’d declined because she didn’t own an appropriate dress. When he offered to purchase her a gown, Aster had poked her in the ribs and told her to accept the man’s offer.

So she had. But he’d insisted on choosing the dress for her, which terrified her. Would he know that a day dress wouldn’t be suitable for the party? Or that a ball gown would be too fancy?

Iris set her watering can in a flat of horehound, and crowded in to watch the unveiling.

Faith’s hands shook as she unpinned the silk wrapper and lifted out the dress she would wear. The bodice and skirt were made of light-brown french silk layered over a froth of creamy lace. Duke had included a silk parasol, and a brown hat trimmed with poppies, and had wrapped the gifts in a gorgeous matching shawl. The dress suited her coloring, and was perfectly appropriate for a lawn party, making her wonder if he’d chosen the outfit on his own. Even the size looked perfect.

“You better try the shoes,” Iris said. “You can’t dance on sore feet.”

Faith handed the skirt to Aster, and let Iris help her on with one shoe. It fit perfectly. “Duke must have slipped into our house and taken my measurements while I was sleeping,” she said with an amazed laugh.

A mischievous sparkle lit Iris’s eyes. “I think he didn’t have to sneak. What have you two been doing in the bathhouse every night?”

Things that turned her body to warm clay, that made her ache to be molded by Duke’s large, thrilling hands.

“Too naughty to divulge?” Iris asked. She rose to her feet. “Make the most of that pretty dress he gave you, and drive the man wild tonight. Get him on his knee, begging you to marry him,” she advised.

“I’m trying,” Faith admitted. She felt no embarrassment; brothel life had killed their need for modesty with each other.

“Good girl.” Iris turned her toward the bathhouse. “Now, hurry with your bath so I can style your hair. I can hardly wait to see the sheriff’s face when he sees you this evening.”

Aster scooped up the bundle of clothing. “I’ll lay out your wardrobe in your bedchamber,” she said.

Faith spent the next two hours being scrubbed, rubbed with herb-scented oils, and dressed and polished by four experts in the art of seduction. It felt sinfully luxurious to be dressing for her first outing with a suitor, and she wished she could tell Duke about her aunts and how hard they were trying to help.

“Ooh... beautiful,” Iris cooed, patting Faith’s hair. She’d pulled it up and left a waterfall of ringlets down the back of Faith’s head, and a long, dangling curl by each ear. She added the hat, tilted it at a slightly jaunty angle, and stepped back with a satisfied smile. “I wish we had a mirror so you could see yourself.”

Faith stood and gazed down at her dress. The skirt was pleated with two panels that opened in a wide vee down the front to reveal a drapery of creamy silk that rippled like a frothy waterfall to her toes. The breast and cuffs were trimmed with matching silk and set off with poppy-red ribbons. She had never owned a dress she hadn’t made for herself. Her sewing skills were passable, but at the brothel she’d only needed her plain, serviceable day gowns. She had to add yards of lace and several ribbons to transform her best dress into a worthy church outfit.

She stroked her palms over the luxuriant material with sinful affection. “Tell me I’m not dreaming all of this.”

“You’re not, but the sheriff’s going to think he is the second he lays eyes on you. Come on. Everyone’s waiting.”

Faith followed Iris out of the bedchamber and into the dining room where Dahlia, Aster, and Tansy were playing a game of Draw dominoes with Cora and Adam at the table. The instant they spotted her, the room fell silent. Giddy with pleasure, Faith opened her parasol, angled it like a sunshade, and turned in a slow circle.

Cora’s eyes goggled. “You look like a princess, Mama.”

Faith felt like a princess.

Iris beamed like a proud mother, while Aster, Tansy, and Dahlia gave her a rousing round of applause.

Adam gawked, and looked worried. “Do men have to know how to choose a lady’s wardrobe?”

Faith leaned down and kissed his cheek. “I don’t think it’s required for courting,” she said, “but the sheriff’s knowledge sure impressed this lady.”

“You should let him buy all your dresses.”

“That’s not a bad idea, Adam.” She gave Iris a playful wink then kissed Cora good-bye.

The knock at the door sent her stomach flutter-birds into a wild flurry of flapping and swooping that left her breathless. With a hopeful heart, she greeted her handsome suitor, praying she was greeting her future husband.

* * *

Duke stood in the warm July night, staring in stunned appreciation. He’d known the hue of the dress would complement Faith’s whiskey-colored eyes and dark hair, and had imagined how beautiful she would look in it, but he hadn’t come close to the vision standing before him.

“It’s a perfect fit,” she said, stepping outside to show off the garment. She turned one full circle then faced him, her skin glowing, her eyes shining. “I’ve never owned such a beautiful thing. Thank you, Duke.”

“It was made for you,” he said, truthfully. He’d paid a local seamstress a handsome fee to make the dress in five days. The woman had suggested green or yellow silk for the gown. He knew very little about female wardrobe, but he knew what he liked about Faith, and he was glad he’d chosen the brown silk.

Faith poked her shoe from beneath the hem of her dress. “How did you know my shoe size?”

“I measured the print you left in the sawdust at my mill.”

A slow, appreciative smile broke across her face. “How clever you are. No wonder you make such a good sheriff.”

He couldn’t keep his eyes off her lips. They were lush and shiny, as if she’d just moistened them with her tongue, and all he could think about was tasting her sweet mouth.

The evening was warm with a light breeze, and he’d been comfortable in his suit until now, until Faith’s sparkling eyes and inviting smile made him burn to make love to her. He tugged his collar away from his hot neck, and lifted the cloth sack in his hand. “I brought licorice sticks for Adam and Cora since I’m stealing you away for the evening.”

Her smile softened, making her more beautiful, more desirable. “For a man who carries a gun, you sure have a kind heart.”

The tender look she gave him shook his willpower. He touched his thumb to her bottom lip, so tempted. Her lips parted and her chin lifted, her willingness giving him deep pleasure, but he forced himself to step inside before he shocked her neighbors who were strolling by.

The licorice sticks thrilled Cora and commanded her attention, allowing him to quickly return to Faith. She held his arm as they started for the party, but he sensed she was nervous. “You’ll know some of the guests,” he said. “My brothers and sisters-in-law will be there.”

“It’ll be lovely to see them and your mother again,” she said, clinging to his arm.

“Mother is home with Rebecca watching all the grandchildren.” He wanted Faith’s closeness, but not her fear. “What are you nervous about?”

“I’m not nervous.” She huffed out a laugh. “Yes, I am. I’ve never been to a lawn party.”

“It’s the social event of the season for this village. The money profits the church society. It’s festive, but not as fancy or formal as a wedding.”

“I’ve never been to a wedding, either.”

Alarm bells went off in his head and he glanced at her, confused. “What about your own wedding?”

An odd, almost panicked expression crossed her face and she lowered her lashes. “Um... we married at home with just my family there. I meant I’d never been to anyone else’s wedding. My mother didn’t go to social events,” she admitted quietly. “I’m dreadfully inexperienced. I’ve read books on social etiquette, but if you think I’ll embarrass you, please take me back home.”

He squeezed her arm against his side, not knowing what to think of her odd life. All he knew was that he was proud to have her on his arm. “You’ll be the most beautiful woman there,” he said, knowing it was true. In his eyes, she would always be the most beautiful woman.

* * *

All Faith knew was she would be the most terrified woman at the lawn party. “I see someone bought the Colburn house,” she said, changing the subject and trying not to sound like her heart was breaking. She couldn’t afford the house, but she loved it, and as long as it remained empty, she could dream of owning it someday.

“I’m surprised it sat empty this long,” Duke replied. He stopped abruptly and faced her. “Faith, I talked to my brothers about having Adam work at the mill. If you’ll let him, he can work with me on Saturdays.”

Her stomach plummeted. She’d hoped the conversation would turn more personal, that he would ask if she cared for him, if she could love him, if she would marry him. He only wanted to talk about his business.

“I won’t let anything happen to him.”

Her first inclination was to say no, absolutely not, but Duke looked so pleased that she couldn’t refuse him outright. “It’s kind of you to offer, but I need him at the greenhouse—and he has a job at the store two days a week. That’s enough for a boy his age.”

“He would like working the mill—”

“No.” Her face burned for cutting him off, but the mill was too dangerous. They had too much peril in their lives already without adding that huge whirling blade to the mix. “I appreciate your kindness, but I need Adam at home.”

“All right. I understand.” Duke brushed his knuckles across her cheek. “Maybe when he gets a little older you won’t need his help in the greenhouse.”

She looked away from the disappointment in his eyes, feeling she’d failed both him and Adam. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for caring about the boy. He’s lucky to have you looking out for him.” He took her arm and started walking. “I hope your shoes are comfortable, because Damon’s band is playing tonight and everyone will be dancing.”

“They fit like they were made for me.”

“They were.” He gave her a wink that made her heart skip. “Relax, Faith. You’ll enjoy the party.”

She heard the gathering before she saw it, and when the judge’s house came into view, she gasped in astonishment. Chinese lanterns lit the whole vast lawn and the people promenading the grounds. Tables were set under awnings and on a large front porch that Faith’s mother would have coveted. Off to one side was a carriage house, strung with lights and filled with music from the string quartet.

Duke ushered her onto the lawn, tall, composed and sure of himself. She clung to his arm, scared stiff that she would be exposed as an imposter.

Judge Barker and his wife greeted them. Faith assured the judge, who had witnessed her scare at the circus, that her back was good as new. He encouraged her to enjoy the evening then took his well-dressed wife off to the dance floor where Faith saw several men, including Kyle and Radford Grayson, dancing with their wives.

Everyone in the village seemed to be there, talking and laughing, milling around and filling the grounds so completely, Faith felt a frisson of panic. Judge Stone could be lurking in this crowd and she wouldn’t even know it. Already she’d seen four men with full white beards and snowy hair straying from beneath their hats, and it scared her witless that she couldn’t be sure it wasn’t Stone until the man was within feet of her.

She moved in a stupor, too scared to let go of Duke’s arm. Maybe it was just the party and the crush of people that upset her. Maybe Stone would never find her. She’d been careful not to leave a trail he could follow, but the man was as sly as a fox.

Duke poured her a glass of strawberry punch and took a glass of wine for himself. “I’d prefer ale,” he said, “but I think the church society would frown if I rolled in a keg for the boys.”

“Wine will do nicely,” she said then pulled the glass from his fingers and swallowed the contents. With a wobbly smile, she gave him back the empty glass. “I’ll try the punch now.”

“You’re a surprise a minute,” he said, giving her a warm, flirtatious grin.

“Just trying to keep your interest, Sheriff.” And keep herself from panicking. She didn’t belong with these people. How could she court and possibly marry Duke when she didn’t fit into his world?

He set his empty glass on a tray, the move bringing his mouth near her ear. “If you arouse my interest any more, we’ll have to leave the party”

Her breath sailed out and heat rose to her face in a volcanic rush. “I need another glass of wine.”

His low, seductive laugh sent a tingle of awareness down her neck and spine and caused longing to pool within her. Did he know what he did with that suggestive, intimate voice of his?

He pressed his palm to her waist. “Dance with me.”

“My legs are shaking too much.”

“If we don’t move, I’m going to kiss you.”

“Oh, my. Bring the wine.”

His wonderful, rich laughter turned all eyes on him—on them—and Faith wanted to duck under the lace skirt of the beverage table. But Duke’s long fingers circled her hand and he led her to the floor.

With a confidence she envied, he slipped his arm around her waist and fit his hand to hers. A half-smile touched his lips as he took a step and drew her into a waltz. Faith’s mother and aunts had taught her to dance, but this was Faith’s first waltz with a man. Duke’s hard shoulder and firm hand held her steady, his muscles flexing with every step he took. Warmth filled his eyes, and something more passionate and intense showed in his gaze as he drew her closer, moving his tall, hard body in perfect rhythm to the music.

The sweet sound of violins and the darker strains of a cello washed over her. With each turn he pulled her closer until his long legs brushed her skirt, and the crowd around them slowly disappeared. Faith was floating in a dream, living in a world she’d scarcely dared to imagine, anchored in the strong arms of a man who stood for truth and justice and everything honest and good in life.