by Sandy James
“Anything else, your majesty?” He gave her a condescending bow.
Those hazel eyes of hers turned darker, warning of an approaching storm. “There’s no need for sarcasm, Mr. Riley. This is my home. I’m allowed to set my own rules.”
“Take me to Grace.”
A rude reply, but he’d never felt quite as off balance as he found himself when facing Victoria Morgan. Dismissing the unsettling feeling, he followed her through the kitchen to a living area as large as any he’d ever seen. The library off the living area made envy shoot through him.
A simple glance, yet he’d never seen so many books, all of them sitting in neat rows along more shelves than he could count. Grace had sacrificed so much over the years, giving up buying things for herself to make sure they constantly had something new to read. A few shelves of the Morgan library held more books than he’d ever have the pleasure to read in his lifetime.
Victoria’s voice pierced his thoughts. She stood a few steps up the staircase, her hand resting on the railing. “That’s the library. Grace is upstairs.”
He hadn’t realized he’d taken several steps toward the treasure trove of books. “Sorry.”
Her spontaneous smile stole his breath away. “It’s my favorite room too. I love to read. Grace sure has enjoyed our books since she’s been here. Why, I’d guess she goes through at least two stories a day.”
Before he could reply, she went up the stairs. The sway of her hips set her long, dark braid brushing against her narrow waist—a waist that obviously didn’t require a corset. He followed, mesmerized by everything about her. Slender fingers gripping the railing. Narrow feet mounting each step. The gentle swish of her skirts with each movement.
A shake of his head brought back his sanity. Perhaps being in the company of roughneck cowboys and having an older sister as the only female in his life had left him ripe to appreciate any woman who threw him a pretty smile. He tried to think about Grace and the fury he still felt over her sneaking away in the dead of night like some thief and not even telling him why. That anger kept him grounded, steeling him for the confrontation to come.
Victoria knocked on a door with the back of her knuckles. “Grace?” She eased into the bedroom. “Are you awake?”
When he saw his sister sitting in the bed, reading a book, and leaning back against a mound of pillows, relief rushed through him. Pushing his way inside, he practically shoved Victoria out of the way.
The book slipped from Grace’s hand and tumbled to the floor.
“Grace! My God, I thought I’d never find you.” Anger swelled in his chest, moving aside the relief the she was safe. “What in the hell were you thinking? I thought Shay had—”
“Matthew!”
“Thank God, Shay didn’t—”
“Not here. Not now.” Her frantic eyes shifted to Victoria as she clutched at the edges of her quilt.
He glared at his sister and then at Victoria. “Can we have some privacy?”
Victoria’s slender hands stroked the braid she’d pulled over her shoulder. Her smile seemed as cold as ice. “Why, Mr. Riley, you’re quite welcome. I was happy to bring you up to see Grace, and it was a pleasure to have done so much for her since she fell ill.”
How was he supposed to respond to that? “You’re a bossy bundle of fluff, aren’t you?”
Fire flashed through those eyes, so hot, he wondered if they’d shifted red for a moment. “You’re insufferable.” She glanced to Grace. “How do you tolerate him?”
“We get along fine,” he replied to the ridiculous question.
Her indignant sigh lasted several seconds. “Call if you need me, Grace.”
“Thank you, Victoria.”
The door closed softly behind her.
“Matthew, why are you being so rude?”
He shrugged. Something about that tiny women got under his skin, irritating him as bad as a prickly a rash. He focused that agitation on his sister. “What the hell were you doing?”
“I had to leave.”
“Why?”
“I was trying to find Jake.” She gave him a lopsided smile that did nothing to soothe his anger.
“Jake?” No wonder she’d run. That was a wound his sister carried that might never heal. “I thought his trail went cold and we’d given up on finding him.”
Her expression changed in a heartbeat as the smile vanished. “I’ve never given up. Never.”
“I still don’t understand why you’d sneak off like that. You could’ve told me. We could’ve searched together.”
She bowed her head as her teeth tugged on her bottom lip. “I couldn’t tell you. I–I asked for some help.”
Matthew was getting damned sick and tired of the story falling out in bits and pieces. “Help? What in the devil are you talking about?”
She wrung her hands in her lap. “I had to know. I had to. I couldn’t live with… I needed help to find Jake.” She trembled. “I went to Stephen Shay.”
“What? Are you loco? After everything he’s put you through, why in the hell would you go to that snake? Jesus Christ, Grace. What happened to that smart brain of yours?”
Her hands clenched into tight fists. “I needed to find Jake. I had to find him.”
“So you’d sell your soul to the devil?” He wanted to hit something. “After all these years of running, after all we’ve done to keep him off your trail, how could you?” His words had become a roar.
“I had to.” A fit of coughs seized her before she could say anything more. “I–I needed to–to know he was safe.” More coughs, punctuated by a whimper. “His parents were murdered.”
His jaw dropped. “Murdered? How?”
She was so lost in her illness, she couldn’t answer him. Her whole body shook, and he put his hand on her shoulder and rubbed, not sure what to do to help her.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shout.”
All the years of hell they’d been through drowned his concern for Jake. Grace said his adoptive parents were dead, not the boy. But Matthew’s whole life had been spent protecting Grace from Stephen Shay, and she’d up and gone to him for help?
He couldn’t stop scolding her. “Shay? Shit, Grace, you really went to Shay?”
“Oh, Matthew. I shot him. He tried to— And I wouldn’t— The gun just went off and—” The words tripped over each other, and he could barely understand them. “I–I…killed him. They’re going to hang me.” Another coughing spasm wracked her slender body.
No wonder she was so upset. Before he could even form a coherent thought about what to say to Grace’s frightening confession, the door flew open, slamming against the wall.
A man stood in the frame, hands on his hips as he took in the scene. His eyes narrowed, then he moved to the bed, grabbed Matthew’s bicep and jerked him to his feet before sitting down in his place. He held his arms open to Grace, and Matthew gaped in shock when she fell into his embrace and leaned against his shoulder while the man rubbed her back and soothed her in low tones.
“Shh. I’m here. It’s okay now, Gracie.”
Why wasn’t she shoving him away? Hell’s fire, the last time one of the cowboys had tried to hug her, he’d nearly choked on his balls when she kneed him in the groin. Instead of fighting, she seemed to melt into this man’s arms.
It took several minutes for her to settle down and her coughing to subside. When she finally lay back against the pillows, her eyes were red.
The man pulled the quilt higher up on her chest, gave her hand a friendly pat, and stood up. Then he turned to face Matthew.
The fury in his eyes almost made Matthew take a step back. “You. Outside. Now.”
He was so startled by the command in his host’s tone, he did as he was ordered.
After the man softly closed the door, he launched his anger. “Do you have any idea how sick she’s been? We almost lost her.”
Matthew felt lower than dirt. “I didn’t know.”
“You do now. I take it you’re Matth
ew.”
“Yes, sir.” He held his hand out. “Matthew Riley.”
“Grace was worried you’d come. I’m Adam Morgan.” His handshake was as firm as his voice.
Morgan.
That explained the vixen Victoria. How could she have been concerned with something as silly as some downed sheets? She’d probably been spoiled her whole life by her rich rancher daddy. No wonder she was so damned bossy.
Finding some of the manners his sister had tried to instill in him, he nodded at the bedroom door. “You have my gratitude for taking care of Grace. We’ll repay you.”
Adam waved a hand in dismissal. “Not necessary.”
“I’ll be finding a place to stay nearby so I can take my sister off your hands.”
“She’s not going anywhere. Least not ’til she’s well enough to travel.”
Not about to be indebted to the man, Matthew insisted, “I can get her settled in a boarding house. There’s a small town near here, right?”
A stubborn shake of Adam’s head was the reply. “She’ll stay here. Now, I’ve got some questions. Come to the kitchen, and we’ll grab a cup of coffee.”
***
Sitting across from Grace’s brother, Adam tried to measure the man’s character. He had to brush aside his initial anger that Matthew had upset her so much. At least her coughing had settled down.
After pouring two cups of coffee, he sat at the kitchen table opposite Matthew. He slid a mug to the cowboy as Daisy excused herself and left through the back door.
“I assume you came here looking for Grace.”
Matthew nodded. “We were supposed to be signing on for another long drive, but when I went to fetch her, she’d up and disappeared. She left all her things behind. The only clue I had was a silly note telling me not to follow. As though I’d let her go off all alone in the world with—” He cleared his throat.
“You and your sister have a nasty habit of never finishing sentences.”
Matthew shrugged, his face becoming a mask that was impossible to read.
“How’d you find her out here in the middle of nowhere?”
The topic perked the young man up. “Wasn’t easy, but I’ve got a knack for tracking people. Years of practice. Gotta admit she made it tough. Had to choose between two possible stagecoach routes.” He grinned. “I got lucky and found her on my first choice.”
Since the words were flowing freely again, Adam did some fishing. “How long have you been herding cattle?”
“Going on twenty years. We’ve been squirreling some money away hoping for a spread of our own someday.” Matthew’s gaze drifted around the kitchen. “Nothing like this, mind you. But a place we could call our own. A home.”
“You’re a cowboy and Grace runs the chuckwagon?”
“Yes, sir. She could make a feast out of boot leather. Cowboys never go hungry when she’s cooking. The woman has a God-given gift.”
At least Adam was finally getting something in the way of personal information about her. “If you don’t mind my asking, why isn’t she married? Pretty filly like that, there oughta be a hundred single men in line trying to court her.”
“Grace doesn’t… She wouldn’t…” Matthew worked through the thought, several emotions clearly displayed in his eyes. Anger. Fear. Pity. “Grace doesn’t want to marry. Ever.”
“Doesn’t want to marry?” The Riley siblings were a riddle with no easy solution.
Matthew shifted his cup in his palms. “I’ll be taking her off your hands now. You’ve no idea how grateful I am that you helped her. I’m mighty obliged.”
“Where you heading from here?”
“No plans yet. I need to talk to Grace. Probably another long drive if we can find one. You know, I still can’t rightly figure out why she came to Montana.”
So she was keeping secrets from both of them. She clearly hadn’t told Matthew she’d found Jake. Adam wrestled with his best course of action.
He wasn’t ready to let Grace go. A sobering thought, but he already felt a commitment to her—a need to shelter and protect her. She was a wounded bird needing gentle care and time to heal. The poor woman still cried out in her dreams every night.
He’d developed a habit of sleeping in the rocking chair as he soothed her through the demons haunting her sleep. Some nights she was so terrified that he had to hold her in a bear hug to help her through the worst of them.
He’d spent her days of convalescence at her side, playing chess or cards. Sometimes he read to her from the books she loved so much. The bond between them was already growing, and the notion of losing her was enough to set his stomach to churning.
He had to keep Grace close. “How’d you like to work for me ’til you both get your plans ironed out?”
Tendering the offer was easy because Adam needed the help. He’d decided when Jake left he was going to bring in this one last herd. Then he would enjoy never dealing with another cow again. Unless he was eating it. He’d already spent too many years of his life looking up the backside of a steer.
Besides, he was only forty-five. He could do something else he’d enjoy now. Perhaps breed horses.
Until the last herd was gone, he’d taken over Jake’s duties of tending the steers. Since Grace’s arrival, he’d spent so much time with her that Victoria had picked up the slack, helping Ty as often as she could. His daughter had better things to do than work with cattle, and he felt guilty for expecting so much from her. She should be finding a husband, settling down, and raising a family.
Jake’s help was missed, and from the stories Grace had told Adam, Matthew knew his way around livestock. The bonus of the whole situation was that if he kept her brother close at hand, Adam could continue to keep watch over her and try to help solve some of her problems.
Hell if he hadn’t already made up his mind. He’d known from the moment he’d scooped her feverish body into his arms.
Grace was going to belong to him.
Now he just needed to convince her.
Matthew seemed to consider the offer for a moment. “I’ll stay on if Grace will. You know, she’s a great cook.”
“So I’ve been told. Think she’d work the chuckwagon on my drive?” Victoria usually handled the cooking, but it was far from her favorite task. Offering the job to Grace could be the solution to more than one dilemma.
“I’m sure of it,” Matthew replied with a nod.
“Then I’ll be speaking to her about it later.” Standing up, Adam offered the man his hand again. “Glad to have you on board. Victoria will show you around.”
“I appreciate the job, Mr. Morgan.”
“Adam will do.”
“Adam it is.”
Grabbing his hat from where it had rested on a hook, Adam settled it on his head and left through the kitchen door.
Victoria was approaching with an armload of cut flowers. Stopping her before she entered, he explained the jobs he was offering to Matthew and Grace. She nodded and carried her burden inside.
Matthew frowned when Victoria piled the blooms on the large wooden table. The smell of sunshine and the flowers followed her in.
“Daddy says you’re staying on for a while. We can take a ride so I can show you around the ranch. Then we’ll get you set up in the bunkhouse. This laundry will wait ’til later.”
Daisy walked through the door just as Victoria placed the last of the clothes on the table. “Don’t go frettin’. I’ll fold ’em up before I get supper started.”
“Thank you, Daisy. Matthew’s staying on to help with the last drive. He’ll bunk with Ty.” She turned to Matthew. “I’ll be back in a minute.” Then she left the kitchen humming a tune.
Not knowing what to do while he waited, he sat back down at the table.
“You’re Grace’s brother.” Daisy folded a shirt with practiced ease.
“Yes, ma’am. I’d like to thank you for taking such good care of her while she’s been sick.”
She shook her head as she reached for anot
her shirt. “Been Mr. Morgan takin’ care of her. He won’t let nobody do much for Miss Grace.”
He knit his brow. “He’s been taking care of her? She doesn’t usually cotton to strangers—especially men.”
With a chuckle, she moved to the stove to stir something that smelled mighty tasty—almost as good as food Grace cooked. “She surely cottons to Mr. Morgan. They spend most of the day together.”
He still couldn’t believe what he’d heard.
Let a man tend her?
Not Grace.
He spent a few minutes trying to get used to the notion, wondering if whatever was producing the mouth-watering smell would be supper and if he would be invited to attend now that he worked on the Twin Springs.
Victoria’s happy hum floated into the kitchen.
As she strolled into the room, Matthew’s mouth fell open in surprise. The woman was wearing denim pants and sporting a cowboy hat. Giving her a long head-to-toe appraisal, he had to admit that the outfit looked great on her slim figure. The denim was tight enough to reveal the beautiful curves of her hips, and it dawned on him that the temperature in the kitchen had grown decidedly warmer.
Damn it all if she didn’t look mighty fetching in that getup, even if she was just playing at what he did to earn his way in the world.
“Is there a particular reason you keep staring at me? I’m not exactly homely enough to gawk at.” She straightened her hat.
Homely?
He’d seldom seen a woman as attractive as Victoria Morgan. Her dark brown hair suited her pretty heart-shaped face. He couldn’t quite tell if her eyes were truly hazel or more green because they tended to take on a different hue depending on whether she was in the sunlight or not. He possessed not a single clue as to what could possibly make this woman think she was anything short of beautiful.
“I didn’t mean to stare. I’m just not used to seeing a lady in pants.”
Her eyes flashed a bit of spark that he found oddly enticing considering how little liking they had for each other when they’d met.
“I see no reason why I should have to be uncomfortable when I ride. Have you ever ridden astraddle a horse in a skirt, Mr. Riley? Not exactly the easiest thing to do.”
