by Sarah Pawley
He pulled up in his own driveway rather than hers, mostly to keep his lights from shining into the Langdon house and arousing suspicion. He could sense the relief she felt in getting back home without incident. It troubled him that she still didn’t trust him, when he’d been such a gentleman all this time. But he reminded himself that she had reason to be wary. Life had made her that way. And since they’d met, he hadn’t always shown the best side of himself. But he was determined to change that. He saw her reach for her door handle, and he stopped her. He started to get out.
“Wait a minute and I’ll get the door.”
Her look, and her question, were both curious. “Why?”
He shrugged. “Etiquette,” he replied. Quickly he got out and went around to her side of the car. Opening her door he extended his hand to her…and she looked at his palm as if it frightened her. He sighed at her hesitation.
“It’s a hand, not a rattlesnake.”
For another moment she looked unsure. Then at last she reached out and put her hand in his, and the thrill he felt was overwhelming.
Lord, her skin is so warm and soft. A fine tremor of heat went up his arm, radiating into his chest and spreading to every part of his body. For a brief moment he imagined pulling her close, holding her tightly against him to see what it felt like. But he kept himself from it, if only just. He’d always prided himself on his self-discipline, and he used it now to keep from doing more than just helping her from the car. He suspected she must have felt something too, especially the way she avoided his eyes as she spoke.
“I’d best get home. I’m sure my brother is pitching a fit.”
He knew he shouldn’t have touched her at all, but he couldn’t help himself. He reached his hand out and lifted her chin, making her look at him. His voice was soft and kind.
“You know it might not be my place to say. But he’s your brother, not your father.”
She was looking at him, her beautiful eyes large and shining with surprise, and if he’d been less of a man he would have kissed her right then and there. But no, that wouldn’t do for the moment. He’d been a gentleman all night, and to leave a firm impression on her mind, he wanted to remain one. He released his light hold on her chin, and putting his hat on his head, he pulled the brim to her.
“Goodnight, Grace.”
He turned and walked away from her, only glancing back for a moment, at his doorstep, to see if she had gone. She had, and he felt rather disappointed that she hadn’t lingered a little longer. He sighed.
Oh well. Tomorrow is another day.
* * * * *
Grace knew what she would find when she came in the house.
She stood on the stoop for several hesitant moments, letting out a little sigh before she opened the door. Before she did anything, she needed to gather herself together. The ride home had been one of the wildest experiences she’d ever had, even thought it had all been in her imagination.
All the way home she’d had insane flashes of things he might have done to her in the dark of his car. But he hadn’t made a single move. He hadn’t even said a word to her, until they were in the driveway and he was about to help her from the car. Then his hand had held hers so firmly, sending shivers down from her fingers to her toes. And when his fingers had held her chin, she’d thought for certain that he would kiss her again. And despite shaking all over with fear, she knew at that moment that she’d wanted him to do just that. She wanted to feel his kiss again. The moment had been so perfect. But he’d let her go, leaving her trembling with strange feelings and a deep sense of loss.
But she had to stop thinking of that now. More pressing matters were waiting for her on the other side of the door, and she pressed her hands against her face for a moment, taking a deep breath. Then she opened the door and stepped across the threshold, the sound of the bolt clicking shut behind her. And when she looked up there was Jack coming towards her from the living room, his stride angry and his expression even more so.
"Where in the name of Christmas have you been?"
She started to speak. But then, she closed her mouth quickly. He looked so much like their father at that moment. The way he stood so tall and rigid - the way his feet were spread apart in his stance. Even the way the little muscle in his cheek twitched in fury. And his eyes were just the same - their soft brown had darkened to near black, they way their father's did when he was angry. And Henry’s words flashed in her memory.
He’s your brother, not your father.
Those words gave her courage, made her grow strong in defense of herself, and she knew she owed her brother not one single explanation. In fact, she owed him nothing, and as if to emphasize the fact, she gave him an evil glare and walked right past him.
"Where do you think you're going?" he demanded. "Don't walk away from me when I'm talking to you!"
But she did keep walking, up the stairs and into her room, where she slammed the door behind her. She fully expected him to come barging in like a force of nature, just the way their father would have done. But he didn't. In fact, there was a sudden silence behind her that she didn't expect. She stood for several moments, her arms crossed, still waiting for his entrance. But there was none, and her curiosity was piqued. She wondered if he might be playing some sort of trick on her, waiting on the other side of the door for her to come out, and then he would pounce. She moved cautiously toward the door, pulling it open quickly - and he was not there. She stepped out into the hall, and then she heard his voice. He was still downstairs. It seemed his voice, and Alice's, were coming from the living room. And both their tones were raised and angry. Grace went to the top of the staircase, sitting down on the step as she listened.
"She's not a child, so why are you treating her like one?"
"She's seventeen years old. She's not old enough to know what's good for her."
"Oh come on, Jack. Most girls like her are old married women with two or three brats. They're too stupid to know anything except lying on their backs and making babies. When they’re not doing that, they're spending their whole damned lives chained to a house. Your sister knows exactly what's good for her, or she wouldn't be here."
"So she got out of being married," he snorted. "So what? That makes her an expert about the world? About men? She has no idea what she'll get herself into if she gets involved with someone like Henry. And damn it, as long as she's living under my roof, I’m not going to let that happen!"
"Oh for God's sake, Jack! You sound exactly like your father!"
Out on the steps, Grace winced as she heard that statement. In all of her anger at her brother, she would never have dared to say that to him. But she was not Alice, of course, who dared to say exactly what she was thinking, no matter what the consequences. And she could hear the absolute rage, barely repressed, in her brother’s voice.
"Don't you ever, EVER say that to me again.”
"Don’t point a finger in my face, you hypocritical ass! You are acting exactly like your father!”
“Are you deaf, woman? I told you not to say that again!”
“I’ll say whatever the hell I want to when you’re acting like a total bonehead! If she were one of your brothers, you wouldn't question anything she does. But just because she's your sister…a woman…you think she knows nothing. Why don't you just do what your father would do? Take her out behind the house and beat her with a switch until she submits like a damn dog!"
The front door slammed as he stormed out of the house. Alice came to stand in the foyer, staring at the closed door for several long moments, arms crossed as she muttered furiously to herself.
“Stupid son of a bitch.”
Letting out a short breath, she turned to go up the stairs. When she saw Grace sitting there, she smiled.
“Eavesdropping, were you?” She climbed the steps to sit down beside her.
Grace gave a sheepish smile. “I guess I was. Where do you think he went?”
Alice snorted, her smile dropping away quickly, replac
ed by an irritated curl of her lip.
“Oh, he didn’t go anywhere. He’s probably just sitting out there on the porch, pouting like a child.” She turned to her with a serious, thoughtful expression. Her voice softened. “You know, it scares the heck out of him that he’s getting older. And that you are too.”
Grace sighed. “I think what you said scared him more. To think he’s like our Daddy. He always said he’d never be like him.”
Alice cast her eyes down in regret. “I know. And maybe I shouldn’t have said that to him. But when he gets in a mood like that, he looks and sounds exactly like your father. He makes me so mad I’d just like to slug him right in the mouth.”
Now Grace smiled a little. “You know something? You’re the reason he’s not a spitting image of Daddy. When that side of him comes out, you know just how to knock it back down to where it belongs.”
Alice smirked. “It’s a thankless job, but someone has to do it.”
With a sigh, Grace rose to her feet.
“I should probably go talk to Jack before he does something ignorant, like going over there to start a fight with Henry.”
“Good luck with him,” Alice stated. “I’m tired of talking to the fool. I’m going to bed.”
She left to go up, and Grace made her way down the stairs to the front door.
He was there, just as Alice had said he would be. He was sitting in the swing, slowly rocking back and forth. She looked at him for several long moments but he refused to say anything. She went to sit beside him, and still he said nothing. She couldn’t tolerate it any longer.
"Well?" she demanded.
"Well what?"
He sounded like an out-of-sorts child, and she found the need to be quite stern with him.
"You know what. I know you're dying to say that you're right, and I'm wrong. That I'm too young to know anything. Am I leaving anything out?"
Crossing his arms defensively, he snorted with displeasure. "What difference does it make what I think? You're just going to do whatever the hell you want to anyway."
She grumbled in frustration. "Oh Jack, I'm not stupid. I know how to take care of myself. And if I make mistakes, they're my mistakes to fix, not yours."
He was silent for a moment, as if he were absorbing the things she said. Then he spoke, his voice low and disenchanted.
"So what am I suppose to do? It's my job to be in there pitching for you. Am I supposed to stand back and let someone else throw the ball?"
She nodded her head. "Yes, and that someone is me. I can think for myself. I can do for myself. You may not like it, but that’s the way it is.”
He sighed, mumbling something under his breath. It was the sound of acceptance…reluctant as it was, coming from him. She wanted to smile, but kept herself from it, knowing that it was difficult enough for him to accept defeat. Her gloating would just be salt in a wound. After a brief silence he sighed, the sound rather sad.
"So where does that leave me?"
Her tone became soft, trying to comfort him. "It leaves you in the same place you always were. I'll always need you around for one reason or another. You always come in handy, you know. You always did.”
He didn’t seem any happier, judging from his tone. "Do you remember when I taught you how to fight?"
She smiled. “You sure taught me how to give a good right hook."
He shrugged. "Yeah, well…I always hoped you could stand up for yourself. But now that you really can, I don't know if I like the idea so much. What good am I to you now? What's my worth?"
She didn’t miss a beat in replying. “About ten or fifteen cents.”
He looked at her and huffed. "Wise ass.” She moved over to give him a peck on the cheek, which he immediately wiped away in disgust.
"Good Lord, Gracie, don’t do that.” He rubbed his cheek viciously. “You know I hate the mushy stuff.”
She knew he was just putting on a show, and she smiled and laughed. She rose to her feet, declaring that she was tired and ready to call it a night. He agreed, following behind her. As they went up the stairs, he turned to her.
“Can I go over and punch Henry in the nose?”
She rolled her eyes. “No.”
He grumbled. “Well I need to get something out of all this. Some bruised knuckles might be just the cure for my pride. Lord knows, there’ll be hell to pay for that fight I had with Alice. I’ll probably end up sleeping on the couch.”
She gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as they parted ways at the top of the stairs.
“Good night, Jack.”
Chapter 14
“Ambitions and Old Ghosts”
He walked into the dark and silent house. Strange, he thought, how empty a home could suddenly be. And yet, the emptiness did not affect him as much as it might have. In a way, it was rather peaceful now. And he was glad to find that all of his belongings were as he’d left them. It wouldn’t have been a shock to come home and find everything he owned broken, shredded, or on a bonfire on the front lawn. But she hadn’t touched a thing, so he considered himself lucky. Now he could focus his thoughts and energy on what to do about Grace.
Tonight, it seemed he’d found one of the keys to unlocking the little puzzle she was. It seemed to him that she hungered for kindness...for simple human affection, and he could certainly see why. She was starved for it. But the lack of it had also made her thorny as a wild rose. Now he understood why shy shied away from him as she did. Oh, she put up a good fight when backed into a corner, but without primal instinct to strengthen her, she was fragile and soft. He’d seen the vulnerability in her. But it was like looking into a cage. He could see her in all her sweetness and beauty, but he couldn’t get close to her. He couldn’t touch her in any way, be it physically or emotionally. So what could he do to get past that barrier around her?
He went to the wall near the staircase. Hanging there was a painting, and taking it down off the wall, he opened a small liquor cabinet.
A fine thing, he thought, When a man has to hide away his liquor from the entire world. He wasn’t much of a drinker, but there were times like now when a good bourbon seemed to calm his nerves. He poured himself a glass, setting it down on the credenza while he carefully realigned the painting on the wall. Prohibition, it seemed, had made criminals of the most common man, including himself. But what could one do but live with it? He took his glass, walking to the sofa and sinking down on it.
If he wanted to get to her, he knew they would have to spend time together. Surely time and tenderness would do the trick. But how could he convince the little skeptic to trust him, let alone spend more than a few hours in his company? Tonight had been a fluke...a mere coincidence, though a welcome one. He thought about courting her, and the idea was tempting. But he was quite certain she wouldn’t accept him that way, even if he tried, and he knew for sure that her brother wouldn’t allow it. Then, an idea came to him like a bolt from the blue.
Hire her as an employee.
It seemed like such an obvious answer. For a moment he let himself imagine the idea of seeing her every day, without worrying that she would flee at any moment. As her boss, he would have her in one place and she would be under obligation to him. But more than that, he could see her whenever he wished, instead of trying to steal little snippets of time. It made him grin to think of seeing her all the time, hearing her adorable little twangy speech. The warmth he felt at the idea, of being near her so often, made him wonder what to call this budding feeling. He dared not call it love. But it was more than friendship. He wasn’t sure what to name it. Deep affection, perhaps? That seemed the only term that came close.
It was a strange feeling to care for someone after so many years of caring only for himself. Over the years he’d managed random acts of generosity, the Langdon wedding being one of them. Out of respect for an old friend and admiration for the great lady that Alice was, he’d not thought twice about giving them their start. But not since the first days of being with Mary had he f
elt the need to give on an emotional level. In a certain sense, he considered himself lucky that he’d had the means of exorcising his demons. He’d used women, used his wealth and standing to meet his own selfish needs. Selfishness had been a luxury he could afford, and he’d indulged shamelessly in it.
But poor Grace. She'd never known the joy of being selfish. She’d been too busy fending off the blows of life. Lord, it seemed so wrong for a seventeen-year-old girl to have suffered through such a miserable life.
Well if I have my way, there will be some changes made.
Only one thing needed to be done. He had to get her on his side. He wasn’t sure how he was going to do it, but he was bound and determined to figure it out, one way or another.
* * * * *
The next morning as she came out of her room, dressed and ready to face the day, she saw Alice in the hallway, still in her robe and looking forlorn. Clearly she was still upset from last night’s fight, but Grace did her best to be cheerful.
“Good morning,” she said.
Alice tried to smile back, though it clearly wasn’t true.
“Good morning, sis. Are you going down to fix breakfast?”
Grace nodded. But Alice put a hand on her arm.
“Don’t fix him anything. I have something special in mind. I’ll be down in a little while.”
Grace shrugged. “If you prefer.” She smiled at her again. Making her way downstairs, she wondered just what special treat was in store for Jack.
