by Sandy James
“You shoulda told us,” Gideon insisted.
Brigit stepped into the fray. “Perhaps I should get us all a cuppa tea so we can sit and have Kayla tell us the whole story.”
Kayla threw up her hands, wondering why she was so tempted to give each of them a smack upside the head in hopes of getting them to come to their senses. “Why does it even matter? There is still only one thing I can do. I must leave as soon as I can pack a few things.”
Drake took her hands and held them tightly in his. “It matters, because I ain’t lettin’ you go.” Leaning in closer, he whispered in her ear. “I can’t lose you.”
Tears stung her eyes. “Drake…”
He shook his obstinate head.
“I have to go.”
“No.”
Shifting her gaze to Drew, she pleaded with him. “Please understand.”
His answer was the same, a shake of his head. Then he stepped closer and said, “We won’t let you go.”
“It’s time,” Drake said.
“Time?” She knit her brows.
Gideon joined them, standing at Drew’s side. “You ain’t leavin’, Kayla.”
Then Brigit was there, putting her hand on Kayla’s arm. “Stay. Please stay.”
“Time?” Kayla asked again. “What time, Drake?”
“Time to stop running, Cara,” he replied.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Two weeks had never passed so slowly, and Kayla had worried herself into nervous exhaustion. Her head hurt, and her stomach had little tolerance for food. But she pressed on. She still woke each day to complete her chores, work on her home, and read.
Drew and Gideon had taken the news that her real name was Cara Burton in stride. They also agreed that even though her whereabouts might be known to whomever was seeking her, there was no reason for her to use her real name around town. Drew had claimed it would be akin to waving a red flag at a bull. Since everyone in White Pines knew her as Kayla, then Kayla she would stay. For now.
She worried incessantly about Otto coming to find her, and nightmares of him hurting Drake or the others plagued her. Her temper was short, and she wondered now if they all wished she had simply gone ahead and left. It wasn’t as though she was good company for any of them.
Drake hadn’t acknowledged the declaration of love she’d made in front of everyone, and for that, she was grateful. Perhaps he thought that she’d simply said the words in reaction to her overly emotional state that day. Or he might even have hoped he’d misheard her. Since he didn’t seem at all concerned that she’d told him of her love right there in front of Drew, Gideon, and Brigit, she would pretend that the words had never passed her lips. Make believe could be easier than dealing with an issue as tricky as love.
Snow had begun to fall in earnest by noon, and by the time they’d finished washing supper dishes, she was convinced they were going to be snowed in for several days. Sweet heavens, she was sick of it. Would spring never arrive?
“Kayla, come and sit by me.” Brigit patted the empty chair beside her.
Realizing she’d lost herself in her thoughts as she gazed out the window, Kayla let the curtain drop back into place and turned back toward the people in the room. She slapped a smile on her face. “Of course. I dare say that we shall once again render the men a sound defeat.” She took the empty chair to Brigit’s right.
“We’ll kick their arses,” Brigit added with a grin. “Again.”
Drew had taught them all the most amazing parlor games, and tonight, he’d chosen the favorite for all five of them to play. He pulled his chair over to the circle that was rapidly forming, and as always, Gideon sat at his side. Drake completed the group and closed the circle when he sat next to Kayla.
“Drew, you must begin now!” She smiled from where he sat across from her.
He favored her with a charming grin. “‘Love is patient, love is—”
“‘…kind,’” Kayla interrupted. “First Corinthians, verse four. Now start the game, you rascal!”
His exaggerated sigh was so dramatic, as was his fashion, that he made her chuckle. “Very well. I shall obey your command.” He slapped his palms against his knees and then clapped his hands, starting the rhythm of the game. “The minister’s cat is an amiable cat.”
Gideon was next. “The minister’s cat is a boring cat.”
“The minister’s cat is a cautious cat,” Brigit said.
“The minister’s cat is a dandy cat,” Kayla said and then glanced to Drake.
Clapping along, Drake said, “The minister’s cat is an eccentric cat.” His smile told her that he was pleased at how his vocabulary had increased.
So many nights, he’d lain his head on her lap and listened as she read to him. They shared a bond, a love for stories that allowed them to explore the world without ever leaving the coziness of the barn’s loft. After a hard day’s work, he often fell asleep before she finished the chapter, so she’d continue reading it silently to herself, allowing her to be familiar with what she would read to him the next night.
Drew chimed in for his turn. “The minister’s cat is a fortuitous cat.”
Kayla let out a laugh as she tried to keep the pace of the clapping. How like Drew to toss in a word that might confound them all.
It was Brigit who ended the rhythm by stomping her foot on the floor. “I call foul. Exactly how can a cat be fortuitous?”
“My dear Brigit,” Drew replied, “we have a barn cat who is quite fortuitous. Why, just this morning, I saw her relaxing on some hay when a mouse happened to wriggle up from that very same bale. I thought to myself, what a fortuitous feline to have her breakfast delivered right to her.”
As everyone chuckled, Gideon started the game again by clapping, and everyone followed his lead. He said, “The minister’s cat is a grey cat.”
“The minster’s cat is a happy cat,” Brigit said, clapping along.
Kayla had to think quickly. “The minister’s cat is an imaginary cat.” She laughed at her own silliness.
Drake didn’t even miss a beat. “The minister’s cat is a jumpy cat.”
“The minster’s cat is a…is a… Damnation,” Drew said as everyone broke into laughter. So seldom did he lose a game, his frustration was palpable. Hand to his chest, he bowed his head. “‘There’s an old saying that applies to me: you can’t lose a game if you don’t play the game.’”
“Romeo and Juliet!” both Kayla and Drake called out together, forcing more chuckles from everyone. She’d never been prouder of him. Of course, Romeo and Juliet had been his favorite of Shakespeare’s works, and she’d read it to him many times. So it was an easy quote for him to remember.
“Shall we continue?” Drew asked. “I believe I have the perfect k word now.” He slapped his knees and clapped. “The minister’s cat is a keen—”
There was suddenly a loud pounding on the door.
Gideon was the first to react, jumping from his chair and hurrying to the door. Drake was right on his heels, grabbing his gun from where it rested in the holster that hung from the pegs that held their coats.
Gideon picked up the double-barrel Remington shotgun that was always at ready, thumbed back the right hammer, and aimed it at the door. “Who’s there?”
Any reply was lost in the wind, so Kayla hurried to the window to try and see what kind of dimwit had come all the way out to the farm in the middle of a snowstorm. A lone figure was bundled up against the cold, but she couldn’t tell who it was. A man, judging from the fact the person wore pants instead of a skirt. “I believe it’s a man. Is it the marshal? Or perhaps Ty?”
Drake frowned and flipped his hand at her. “Get away from that window. Ty wouldn’t knock. He’d get his ass in outta the cold.”
“Might I suggest that we at least let the man in?” she replied. “What if he’s a friend who needs our help? If we don’t let him in, he’ll end up a frozen corpse on our front porch. I would hate to explain that to the marshal—or the man’s wife.”
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“She is correct,” Drew added. “It would be inhospitable to allow anyone to become an icicle simply because we are too cautious.”
“Fine,” Drake said. “Gideon, you cover me. I’m gonna open the door.”
Although he grumbled about them being foolish, Gideon stepped back to stand a few feet in front of the door. If anyone charged in, there would be a hole blown right through him.
Drake opened the door, and the man rushed inside, bringing along a harsh wind and quite a bit of snow. He was shorter than Drake and wrapped in layer upon layer of scarves.
Shouldering the door closed again, Drake held up a hand when Kayla and Brigit moved toward the man. “Who in the devil are you?” he asked.
“How on earth do you expect him to answer?” Kayla said, stepping forward again. This time she ignored Drake’s signal to stop. She took the end of one scarf and began to unwind it around the visitor’s head. “Drake, will you please get a broom and sweep up the snow before it melts?”
“Not before I see who he is,” Drake replied, earning him a frown since she doubted anyone who was freezing to death was much of a threat.
Brigit joined her in getting the man unbundled, and in a few moments, his face was revealed.
Blinking, Kayla couldn’t help but think that what she was seeing was nothing but a figment of her imagination. The image refused to change.
“Sir, what be yer name?” Brigit asked.
Kayla was the one to answer. “His name is Gregory Carrington.”
* * *
The moment the name registered on Drake’s mind, he wanted to put a bullet in the man’s head. His hand was clearly smarter than his brain, because he released the cock on his revolver and lowered it.
Gideon, however, kept his weapon pointed right at Gregory despite the fact that Brigit was moving around him, sweeping up the snow and dumping it in the sink. “Why are you here?”
Gregory looked to Kayla, and Drake saw the pleading in his eyes. He also saw how violently the man was shivering. Before he could suggest that they get him warm, Kayla went to work stripping the gloves and coat from him.
“Drake,” Kayla said in a voice that brooked no refusal, “build up the fire. Drew…”
Drew gave her a snappy salute. “Yes, ma’am. What are my marching orders, ma’am?”
She rolled her eyes. “Go fetch a quilt from the linen chest.”
“I’ll get towels,” Brigit offered. Then she set the broom aside and hurried after Drew, who’d headed toward the bedroom where they kept the extra linens in a cedar-lined chest.
Kayla took Gregory’s hand and tried to lead him toward the fire, but he shook his head. “I d–didn’t b–b–believe,” he said as his jaw quivered. His whole body trembled.
Kayla shook her head. “We shall talk later. You must get warm, Gregory.” She tugged at him again.
This time he obeyed, following her toward the hearth, where Drake had knelt and was tossing pieces of wood on the pyre. In his peripheral vision, he saw Gideon leaning the shotgun against the wall.
Drew returned with the quilt, and Kayla had him set it on the sofa while she continued to remove clothing from their visitor. Brigit came jogging down the hall, her arms full of towels. As soon as she left her burden on top of the quilt, she joined Kayla in getting Gregory stripped down to his underwear.
The moron hadn’t even put on proper long johns. Under his clearly expensive and now quite wet clothing, he had on short pants and a sleeveless shirt. Drake snorted and shook his head.
Kayla rubbed Gregory’s arms with a towel. “We’re going to get you warmed. I promise.”
The man nodded rather than replied, probably because his teeth were chattering incessantly.
She kept barking out polite orders. “Drew, please get a kettle on so that we can make some hot tea.” When Drew started to salute her again, she added, “And please spare me the sarcasm this time.”
With a chuckle, Brigit crouched to dry Gregory’s legs.
Feeling as though his whole world had suddenly tilted on its axis, Drake tried to think of the ramifications of Gregory’s arrival. Kayla had been expecting Chantal Carrington’s servant to come to hunt her down. Instead, she found herself tending to her fiancé.
Former fiancé, Drake reminded himself. Or was that wishful thinking? They’d discussed everything that had happened between her and the Carringtons, with one big exception. She’d never told him whether she’d been in love with Gregory. The relationship had ended because of Chantal’s disapproval, not because Gregory or Kayla had fallen out of love.
What if she still had feelings for the man?
But she’d told Drake that she loved him—right out loud and in front of witnesses. She had blurted it right out without any prodding, so he tried to put stock in that declaration. He’d never heard her mention that she loved Gregory. At least he didn’t remember having heard it.
Why was Gregory here?
The only reason Drake could think of was that Gregory was still in love with Kayla. What other reason would find a man going across the entire country and riding all the way to this isolated farm in the middle of blizzard?
Had he ridden or walked from White Pines?
As if he’d picked up on Drake’s thoughts, Gideon reached for his coat. “I’m gonna go take care of this fool’s horse.”
“How do you know he had a horse?” Brigit asked, standing to face Gregory. “Yer gonna have to take this off.” She tugged on his damp undershirt, trying to peel it from his arms.
Gideon buttoned his coat. “’Cause he would’ve died coming out here from town without a damned horse.”
Drew plucked a hat and scarf from the pegs and helped get Gideon ready to go out. “Would you like my help?”
“That would be most welcome.”
As Drew bundled himself against the cold, he said, “I am quite sure we would both appreciate some hot tea when we return, so if it isn’t an inconvenience…”
“We’ll make sure you get some, too,” Kayla said.
As Drew and Gideon headed out the door, Drake looked over the man who had caused Kayla so much misery. It wasn’t as though Gregory was an intimidating specimen. He was shorter than the other three men in the house. Hell, Brigit was only a couple of inches shorter than this man. His hair was dark, his frame lean. There just seemed to be nothing special about the man.
Except his fortune.
“Drake,” Kayla said, “please go get a pair of your long johns for Gregory.”
As if he wanted to share his clothing… But Drake obeyed. In his room, he fumbled through his three extra pairs of underwear to find the one that still had holes that Kayla hadn’t mended yet. Then he brought that pair back to Kayla.
She frowned at him, no doubt knowing why he’d chosen that one. “I need you to help Gregory get out of his undergarments and into these.”
“Thought you’d take care of that.” Heaven knew she’d done the same for him more than a few times this winter after he’d braved the elements to get to the barn and tend to the animals.
Her cheeks flushed red. “I cannot see him…naked.” The last word was more mouthed than spoken, and for some reason it pleased Drake more than he could say that she was hesitant to do that chore.
“Go on, then.” He shooed the women away with the back of his hand. “I’ll get him dressed.”
Having never dressed a grown man before, especially a grown man who seemed as helpless as an infant, Drake quickly learned how difficult a task it could be. Although he was a smaller man, Gregory was dead weight, and moving his limbs to help get him in the long johns quickly left Drake out of breath. The whole time, Gregory watched him closely but said nothing. Probably because the poor man’s teeth were still chattering. After Drake got him dressed, seated on the couch, and wrapped in a quilt, he stared down at the man and shook his head. “You done a fool thing riding out here in this snow.”
“Had to s–s–see C–C–Cara.”
“She’s been l
iving here a year or more,” Drake replied.
“C–couldn’t f–find her.”
“What do you want?”
“That,” Kayla said as she came into the room and glared at Drake, “is none of your business.”
Brigit gave him the same kind of glare, so he simply threw up his hands in defeat and went to get the teakettle, which had begun to whistle. But Brigit hurried over and beat him to it. “G’on now. Go help Miss Kayla.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, and she added, “I donnae trust that man. Ye need to protect yer woman.”
My woman. If only Kayla were his woman. Now that Gregory had come all the across the country to find her, everything she had shared with him might be ending.
And in that moment, Drake realized exactly how much he loved her and exactly how much it would hurt if Gregory was here to win her back.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Thank you,” Kayla said as she took the cup of tea from Brigit. Then she sat down next to Gregory. “You need to drink this. It will help you warm up.”
“Th–thank you.” His hands were steadier now that he was dry and bundled up in front of the fire. Funny, but she’d never noticed how smooth his hands were before. So unlike Drake’s, which had rough skin and calluses from hard work. Gregory’s appeared as soft and pale as the hands of a pampered woman.
He sipped at the tea and sighed. “I’m f–feeling m–much better.”
Knowing that Brigit and Drake were watching them, Kayla was close to biting her tongue to keep from asking Gregory why he was there. In all of her worries about being discovered, she’d never once thought about him being the one who sought her. The Gregory she’d known would never have gone against his mother’s wishes. Never. Besides, Chantal had clearly let them both know that she would never approve of them marrying.
When Otto had killed her father, Kayla had immediately run away, so she’d never had a chance to tell Gregory the truth of what happened. God only knew what he thought about her now, although traveling all the way to Montana told her he might still have feelings for her. His cryptic greeting had left her curious and wanting to hear what had made him decide to find her.
