by Sandy James
“Let them. I don’t give a damn about gossip.”
Neither did she—especially among people she’d never see again. But he had to live here, and she wouldn’t be the one to drag his reputation through the mud. Small towns were unforgiving. Even if anyone knew she was at Twin Springs, her illness would be explanation enough as to why she’d been on the ranch so long. Now that she’d recovered, the gossip would start in earnest.
“Are you cold, darlin’?”
“No.”
“Then why are you trembling?”
She couldn’t answer him.
“We should be heading back.”
The moonlight filtered through the branches of the pines. Such a beautiful night in such a beautiful place. The crunch of the dirt and gravel beneath their feet added to the melody of the crickets who’d come out to sing in the cool night air.
Adam interrupted their song. “I’ll take you to White Pines tomorrow. You can see Jake.”
“And?”
“And we’ll figure out what to do next. Together.”
***
Matthew waited on the porch steps, watching the couple make their way back to the house.
Adam touched a kiss to Grace’s forehead, nodded at Matthew in greeting, and excused himself to tend to some chores in the barn.
“That man has feelings for you, Grace.”
A sigh slipped from her lips. “I know.”
“You have feelings for him. I can tell.”
She frowned. “I know that, too.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“What do you want me to do, Matthew? Marry him? Settle down?”
“Why not? You deserve a little happiness.”
Her hand flipped in dismissal. “You know why not. There are bushels of why not. You think I want Adam to find out about Jake or watch them hang me?”
“Grace…”
“I’ll go into town. I’ll find Jake and see with my own eyes that he’s okay. Then we can head out to find another cattle drive.”
“So you’ll do what you do best?”
“Which is?”
“Run away.”
Victoria came out the back door and glanced from sister to brother. “It seems my timing’s very poor today. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“It’s fine,” Grace replied. “I fear I overdid a little. I should get some rest.”
Matthew had a hard time not unleashing his anger at his sister. She’d never done anything as foolhardy as going to Stephen Shay to find Jake. Shay’s obsession with her had tainted her whole life. Both their lives. He was damn sick and tired of running.
That bastard was dead, and she was safe here. She had a protector, someone whose feelings obviously ran deep. Why would she throw all that away? Why would she give up this chance—their first real chance—to settle down?
He didn’t wish to speculate whether his newfound notions of putting down roots had anything to do with the pretty brunette who seemed to enjoy vexing him on a daily basis.
“You wouldn’t want to get sick again,” he said to Grace. “You’d waste precious time to make your escape.”
She went inside without another word.
“Escape?” Victoria asked.
Damn, but he wished he’d kept his mouth shut. “Just a jest between brother and sister.”
She walked down the steps, heading toward the laundry that was still hanging on the line.
He jumped to his feet and followed. “Let me help.”
“No, thank you.” A teasing smile came his way. “You’re a little too hard on my linens.”
He had to laugh at that, his mood changing from annoyed to happy in a heartbeat just being around Victoria. He plucked a clothespin from the end of the sheet she tugged from the line. Together, they stretched it and folded it into a neat bundle. Their hands brushed as he surrendered the sheet to her care. Eyes locked for a moment that extended an eternity.
She glanced away. “Thank you, Mr. Riley.”
“Matthew. Call me Matthew.”
He had a hard time reading her expression. Irritation had always been so plain in those hazel eyes, but this new emotion was much softer, much more mysterious.
“Matthew.”
The whisper of her voice raised gooseflesh on his skin.
Something forced him to reach out to touch her braid. He rubbed her thick hair between this thumb and finger, marveling at how soft it was. Then he realized what he was doing and dropped it.
“Thanks again for helping fold the sheet.” Victoria strode away as Matthew trailed behind.
Her voice followed her through the door. “You best be taking that hat off if you’re going inside my house.”
With a chuckle, he pretended not to hear and strode through the door with his hat securely on his head.
Chapter Six
Grace approached the Four Aces with her heart lodged firmly in her throat.
Adam had wanted to accompany her inside, but she insisted on going to Jake alone. One wrong word and Adam would know she’d been lying.
His opinion probably shouldn’t matter so much, but it did. More than she wanted to admit—even to herself. Besides, he had business in town, and she didn’t want to keep him from that convenient distraction. He’d be by to fetch her in an hour or so, ready to take her back to Twin Springs, where she feared she didn’t belong.
Being honest with herself, she didn’t want him there when she found the elusive Jake Curtis. Who knew what would happen when she finally saw him?
Sweet merciful Lord, how many times had she pictured her first meeting with her son?
A fantasy of their perfect introduction had formed over the years. She would calmly explain her story—the tale of being his sister that she chose rather than spilling the whole humiliating truth. No, she could never tell him everything. Jake would give it a quick think. Then he’d open up his welcoming arms and accept her into his life without a moment of hesitation.
A wonderful, happy family reunion.
That fantasy comforted her through the agonizing years of thinking about her child.
Child?
Jake was twenty—had turned twenty the day she reached thirty-five. Their shared birthday had always been a secret bond, a cosmic strand that stretched between time and space to connect them. They were family. Surely he’d accept a new person into his life, especially one who shared his blood.
Now that the ominous moment had arrived, Grace was terrified of both the fantasy and the reality. Could she bear it if Jake greeted her with scorn?
What would he think if he knew the things she’d done? If he knew why she’d given him up? If he knew she’d killed his father?
Taking a steadying breath to regain control over her wayward thoughts, she gave one of the batwing doors a push and peered inside the saloon.
The place was dim, the only light streaming in through the distorted glass of the front window, leaving odd patterns of sunshine on the sawdust-covered floor.
“Hello? Anyone there?” Her words echoed through the cavernous room.
“Damnation!” The feminine voice drifted in from just off the main room. “Double damnation!”
Her heart hammering in her chest and terrifying memories assaulting her from every direction, Grace hiked up her skirts and ran to the kitchen. She skidded to a stop when she saw the blonde. Thank God, she appeared to be safe.
The girl couldn’t be older than eighteen. Long curls cascaded in a riot around her shoulders. She was slapping lumpy icing on a cake that leaned precariously like the famous tower in Pisa.
Grace closed her eyes, trying to control her trembling and forcing her recollections aside. When she opened her eyes again, the girl was still focused on her task, unaware of the intrusion.
“Are you all right?” Grace asked.
Her words surprised the girl. When she jumped, the knife she’d been using pushed the cake the rest of the way over. It toppled to become a mass of crumbled pastry and pink icing
.
“Oh no! I killed the cake.”
Grace found a smile. “Oh, my. It appears you did.”
The blonde turned to face her, revealing a well-rounded belly. “That was for Daddy’s birthday, and I ruined it.” Tears sprang into her eyes, then she let out a small sob.
“Please don’t cry.” Hurrying to the girl, Grace took her into her arms, feeling terrible for having destroyed her hard work. She had to put this to right. “I can help you fix it.”
A couple of sniffles later, the blonde nodded. “I sure can’t. Cooking is impossible.” A delicate hiccough bubbled up. “God, I hate crying. Seems as if I’ve been doing nothing but weeping for seven months. Having a baby isn’t easy.” She eased away. “Who are you?”
“I’m Grace Riley. I’m looking for Jake Curtis. Have you seen him?”
“First thing every morning. I’m married to the rascal.”
“Married? To Jake? But you’re so...young.” Grace’s gaze dropped to that rounded belly.
Sweet merciful Lord.
She was going to be a grandmother. Her heart skipped so hard she got lightheaded.
The blonde smiled as all traces of her sadness fled her face. She gave her middle a pat. “Old enough to have this little one.”
It took all Grace’s restraint not to reach out and lay a hand on the girl’s stomach, knowing that child was a part of Jake. Of her. “You barely look old enough to be a mother.”
“I turned eighteen last March. More than old enough.” Her hand caressed her unborn child. “Jake and I are gonna be a mama and papa in a couple of months. Daddy says that’s a good thing, that havin’ this baby settled us both down.” She nodded toward the other room. “This here’s my daddy’s saloon. Jake helps him run it. Daddy says Jake’ll be a great businessman once he learns some tricks of the trade.” She tilted her head, fixing bright blue eyes on Grace for a long moment. “How do you know my Jake?”
“I’m his sister.” The lie spilled from her lips. Nodding at the mess that was supposed to be a cake, Grace tried to take her mind off the falsehood that always tasted so bitter when she spit it out. “I can help you with that.”
“Truly?”
“Cooking’s what I do best.”
“It’s what I do worst. But I was asking if you’re truly his sister.”
A decisive nod punctuated the fib. “I’m truly his sister.”
The girl reached out a hand with bits of icing clinging to her fingers.
Grace shook it anyway.
“I’m Emily.”
“Please to make your acquaintance, Emily.”
Needing the familiarity of preparing food, she moved around the kitchen, gathering the supplies to bake a new cake because Emily’s appeared beyond redemption. When Emily groaned and rubbed her belly, Grace pulled out a barstool for her.
Emily gave her a grateful smile as she sat. “Baby’s getting to be mighty active of late. And very big. Like his papa. Jake told me he didn’t have any kin. If you’re his sister, why isn’t your name Curtis?”
Grace stopped short and turned to gaze at Emily. How much of his past had Jake shared with his wife? She sure didn’t want to say anything he might not want his wife to know. Then again, they were married. Emily probably knew more about him than Grace ever would.
“What do you know about Jake’s childhood?”
“He lived with Adam Morgan from the time he was a little boy. Before that, he lived out on a farm ’til his mama and papa were killed. He never mentioned a sister. Were you sent to the Denver orphanage too? He hates talking about that.”
Tears stung Grace’s eyes, the guilt an impossibly heavy weight on her heart. If only she’d known. If only she had tried harder to find him.
If only...
She squared her shoulders and her resolve. The past was the past. She couldn’t change it. All she could do was hope for better things in Jake’s future.
“No, I wasn’t. He was only a couple of hours old last time I saw him. I’m not a Curtis ’cause that’s the name of the family who raised him. I’m his blood kin. I kept our father’s name. I was too young to look after him, and I started hiring out on cattle drives as soon as I knew he was with his new parents. There wasn’t much else I could do to earn a living, and spending his childhood on a chuckwagon wouldn’t have been a life for him.”
Emily twirled one of her long curls around a finger. “Why didn’t you both stay with your mama?”
“My mother died.” The grief still felt like ice encasing her heart. Grace grabbed an apron, wrapping it around her waist and thinking of it as a piece of shining armor to protect her from all the bad memories and lies.
Piling the cake ingredients next to a ceramic bowl, she added them one by one, hardly even thinking as she measured, poured, and stirred. Cooking was therapeutic, and her emotions were running so hot and heavy she had to keep her hands occupied. In short order, she shoved two round pans full of batter into the oven.
The women chatted as Grace cleaned the kitchen, absorbing every story about Jake that Emily seemed happy to share. The tales acted as a balm on her wounded heart.
“You know, he looks like you,” Emily said. “Your eyes. Your nose, too. You look like family.” Jumping off the barstool, she went to Grace and gave her a hug, which took her entirely by surprise. “Jake always wanted a family. He told me the baby and I were his family, but I could tell he was sad. Now you’re here.”
Jake always wanted a family.
Grace’s blinked against threatening tears. “His brother’s here too,” she barely squeaked out.
“Brother? Jake has a brother, too?”
“Matthew.” The name was nothing but a whisper.
“What did I say? I didn’t mean to make you cry.” Emily’s lip quivered for a moment, and then she began to weep.
Grace pulled Emily back into her arms. “I–it’s not your fault. I’m just happy to finally find Jake. I’ve been searching for so, so long. Will he be home soon?”
Emily nodded against her shoulder.
Jake. After all the long years, she’d finally be face-to-face with him.
Grace glanced up to see a short, round man waddling into the kitchen, pressing the ends of his handlebar moustache between his fingertips. He stopped and stared at the two women.
“Who died?” he asked.
“Daddy!” Emily squealed, pulling herself away from Grace. “This is Jake’s sister. He has a sister. And a brother.”
The man rubbed the moustache again, seeming to consider Grace for several moments. The wisdom in his eyes caused a moment of fear before she reminded herself that no one could see into her soul.
“Jake’s lived at Twin Springs long as I can remember,” the man commented. “Don’t recollect any mention of kin.”
“He doesn’t know about me. I mean, about us.” Thoughts were pinwheels spinning as she tried to find a way to explain everything to the man’s satisfaction. “Matthew and I are related through Jake’s birth mother.”
“You’re his sister?”
She nodded.
His expression softened, and he extended his hand. “I’m William Spencer. Folks ’round here call me Will.” His laughter was as infectious as his daughter’s. As if his train of thought came to an abrupt halt, he sniffed. “What exactly is that heavenly smell? Sure cain’t be Emily’s cooking.” His wink at his daughter marked the teasing as affection.
Using the ends of her apron, Grace lifted the cake pans from the stove to see how the batter was doing. “A birthday cake. For you, Will.”
“Well, let me grab the good whiskey, and we’ll go into the saloon and celebrate.”
***
Grace’s laughter brought a smile to Adam’s face.
He’d kept his distance, giving her room and waiting for her to decide how to approach Jake. The boy had a kind heart, but he’d suffered so much after losing his parents. Knowing there had been a sister out there all along might not have set well. Jake had been known to get riled
from time to time, and Adam didn’t want Grace to be on the receiving end of his temper.
Heading to the Four Aces to be sure things were going well, he’d been waylaid by the odious town marshal. The man gossiped more than any of the town’s old busybodies, and he’d kept Adam standing there talking about nothing of importance long enough to make him worry about what was happening to Grace.
After extracting himself from the ridiculous conversation, Adam hurried back to the saloon. Grace’s melodious laughter ended his worries and drew him like a siren’s song. Pushing open the swinging doors, he smiled when he saw the happy little group.
Emily and Will sat at one of the round tables, talking away while Grace smoothed white icing over a two-tiered cake, wielding the butter knife much like a conductor waving a baton at a grand concert. She smiled, seemingly content to listen to the chatter around her. When Will stuck a finger into the bowl of icing, she gave him a playful swat.
Jake was nowhere to be seen. If only he could be as accepting of Grace as Will and Emily obviously were.
Adam knew better. Jake held tight to the resentment of his childhood. This road wouldn’t be easy for her to travel.
“Looks as though I’m in time for dessert.” He threw her a smile as he doffed his hat.
She glanced up from the cake, her eyes sparkling.
God, he loved the way her face lit up when she was happy, shining as bright as summer sunshine.
“Adam Morgan.” Will gave the table a hard slap with his palm. “Well, well, well. You’re a sight for sore eyes. Ain’t seen you in at least a pair of weeks.”
“Been busy, Will. Had a mighty sick woman on my hands.”
He winked at Grace, whose cheeks flushed in response.
Will’s gaze shifted from Adam to Grace and back again. “You mean our Grace? She’s been sick?”
“She’s been staying with you?” Emily asked.
“Yep. Had a wicked fever I nursed her through.”
Their curiosity was palpable as they looked at each other and then at Grace.
“How’d she end up at the ranch?” Will asked.
“Stumbled onto my spread, searching for Jake. Couldn’t bring her into town ’til I got her back on her feet.”
