The Protector's Promise (The Sinclair Brothers)

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The Protector's Promise (The Sinclair Brothers) Page 3

by Shirlee McCoy


  “Too bad. You and I have a lot in common.” He smiled again, but there was a tightness to his expression that hadn’t been there before. Had her refusal offended him? Honor hoped not. She and Will worked the same shift and she didn’t want there to be tension between them.

  “The same thing we have in common with all the other nurses here, I’d say. Our jobs.” She tried to make light of things as she put on her coat and buttoned it.

  “And that we’re both far from home. I grew up in Mexico. My entire family is still there. Makes for a lonely life sometimes.”

  “Lonely?” Honor smiled and hiked her purse up onto her shoulder, knowing that Will was anything but that. “The way I hear it, you keep pretty busy with the other nurses around here. I’m not sure how that adds up to being lonely.”

  Will laughed and shook his head. “I do like to hang out with some of my co-workers, but that doesn’t mean I’m not lonely. Especially on the days I work. These ten-hour shifts are killers when it comes to friendship.”

  “We do get three days off. I’m sure you find plenty of time to go out when you’re not here. Rumor has it you’ve dated every nurse here.”

  “Except for you.”

  “Which is exactly how I plan to keep it.”

  “Why?” He seemed sincerely curious, and Honor answered.

  “I was married before, Will, and I have a daughter. At this point in my life, I’m not looking to begin another relationship.”

  “All right. That’s cool. Hey, give me a minute to finish filing this paper work and I’ll walk you out. It’s still dark, and you never know what might be hiding in the shadows.”

  “The parking lot is well lit, I’ll be fine. Thanks for offering, though. See you Tuesday?”

  “See you then.” He waved and turned his attention back to his filing, leaving Honor to walk down the corridor and into the lobby alone.

  The front door opened onto a wide veranda that wrapped around the building and provided a covered area for the residents. Colorful chairs and small tables were spaced carefully to allow room for walkers and wheelchairs. During the day, the area had a serene and cheerful air.

  In the dark hours before dawn it was anything but cheerful. Bright overhead lights cast long shadows across the cement floor, creating odd shapes that could have been object, creature or person.

  Honor shivered as she hurried toward her car, trying to tell herself there was nothing to be afraid of, but unable to shake her fear. She might have left behind the apartment where she’d been attacked, but the memory still haunted her. Wild eyes peering out from a black ski mask. A knife slashing toward her. The quick, hard beat of her heart as she put her hand up to defend herself and fell backward screaming. The crashing thud of the door as her neighbor kicked it in, running to her rescue with his service revolver in hand, shouting for Honor’s attacker to put down the knife. The sharp report of the gun as he’d fired. The soft thud of a body hitting the ground.

  Blood.

  Everywhere.

  Honor shuddered. Thank the Lord Lily and Candace had been at the library. If they’d been home…

  She shook her head, refusing to put words to what could have happened. She’d been over it all in her mind during the days that followed the incident. After several sleepless nights, she’d known she had two choices—spend her life reliving the horror she’d experienced or thank God for keeping her family safe and move on. She’d chosen the latter.

  Sometimes, though, doing that was harder than it should be.

  She pulled open the car door and had started to slide inside when she heard the quiet shuffle of feet on pavement. She glanced around, saw nothing and dropped into her seat, pulling the door closed, locking it against whatever might be lurking in the darkness.

  A sharp tap sounded on the back window of the car, and Honor screamed, her hands shaking as she tried desperately to get the key in the ignition. Another knock sounded, this one next to her ear, and she screamed again, turning toward the sound, expecting to look into a ski-masked face.

  Instead, she met Will’s concerned gaze.

  She unrolled the window, fear making her angry. “What in the world are you doing?”

  “Bringing you a message.” If he realized how afraid she was, he didn’t show it.

  “A message?”

  “Yeah. Janice just called and said we’ve got a staff meeting Tuesday at noon. It’s mandatory. She was going to call you at home, but I told her I thought I could catch you.”

  “Tuesday at noon? Are you kidding? Our shift doesn’t begin until two.”

  “That’s what I told her, but she said we’ve all got to be there.”

  “All right. I guess I’ll have to work it out.”

  “See you then.” Will waved and strode away.

  For a moment after his departure, Honor didn’t move. Her hands were too shaky, her legs too weak to drive. She took a deep breath. Then another, forcing oxygen into her lungs, her brain, her limbs. Coming to a small town was supposed to make her feel safer, so why was she jumping at everything?

  Frustrated with herself, she put the car into Drive and started toward home, fear still pounding a hollow beat in her throat. “Lord, I need Your help pulling myself together. I can’t afford to be afraid all the time. Not when the girls are depending on me. Not when I know You’re in control.”

  She muttered the prayer as she drove along the winding road that led home, the sense of peace she always felt when bringing her problems to God filling her. No matter what her troubles, her faith had always carried her through. These new challenges and new worries would be handled with the same firm trust in God that she’d always had.

  And she would get through them.

  She would.

  She pulled up in front of the bungalow, forcing herself to relax and enjoy the sight of the little house.

  A house on a quiet street.

  She’d dreamed of it for years, and now she had it. She wouldn’t let the past steal the pleasure of achieving what she’d longed for.

  The door creaked as she opened it, the light from a small table lamp welcoming her home. Candace’s doing, of course. In the five years since the teenager had moved in with Honor, Candace had worked hard to be a productive member of the family. While other teenagers partied and rebelled, Candace studied hard and helped around the house. After Jay’s death, when Honor had been at the end of her pregnancy and overwhelmed with the prospect of raising a child alone, Candace had promised to do whatever she could to help out. She’d been true to her word, never once complaining when she’d had to rush home to babysit Lily while Honor worked. Even now, when she could easily exert her independence, insist on living on campus away from her rambunctious niece, she’d chosen to live at home and continue to help out. Honor would miss her when she finally made her step into independent living.

  “Mommy?” Lily’s loud whisper came from the dark hall, and Honor tensed. She’d been praying for a few hours of sleep before her little girl woke up. Apparently she wasn’t going to get them. She shrugged out of her coat and turned to face her daughter.

  “Sweetheart, what are you doing up?”

  “I have to tell you something.”

  “At three-thirty in the morning?”

  “It’s important, Mommy.” Lily bounded toward her, the pink nightgown she wore brushing the floor as she moved, her wild curls bouncing.

  Honor lifted her, inhaling the sweet smell of innocence and life. “Okay. So tell me. Then we’re both getting into bed.”

  “I’ve been thinking about something.” Lily put her hand on Honor’s face and stared into her eyes, the deep blue of her gaze so similar to Jay’s it made Honor’s throat tighten.

  “About what?”

  “About the prince.”

  Honor bit back impatience and answered in a quiet tone. She and her daughter had had this conversation too many times over the past two days. “Lily Mae, what did we decide before I left for work?”

  “That there wa
sn’t a prince.”

  “Then there’s nothing to talk about, is there?”

  “But, Mommy, there is. There really truly is. He was right here in our house, and he must be a prince because he lives in that big castle.”

  “That isn’t a castle. It’s just a big house. And Mr. Sinclair is not prince. He’s a man.”

  “Princes are men.”

  Honor sighed, setting her daughter down. “Yes, but not every man is a prince. Some are just men. Some are even frogs dressed up as men.”

  As she’d hoped, the idea caught her imaginative daughter’s attention, and Lily laughed. “You’re very silly, Mommy.”

  “And so are you to be thinking we have a prince living in our backyard.”

  “Not our backyard. In his house. Only I think it isn’t a house. I think it’s a castle.”

  “And I think it is not. So that is the last we’ll say about it tonight. Come on. Back to bed with you.” She took her daughter’s hand and began leading her down the hall, but Lily was her father’s daughter, and she wasn’t willing to give up her dream.

  “Can we go there and visit? Maybe we can find his crown. Then we’ll know he’s really a prince.”

  “No, we can not. Mr. Sinclair is a busy man. He doesn’t have time to entertain us.”

  “But—”

  “Listen, my sweet, don’t the princes in fairy tales always ride white horses?”

  “Yes.”

  “And have you seen any white horses around here?”

  “No.”

  “Then there can’t be any princes around, either, can there?” It was twisted logic, but if it worked, Honor would use it.

  “Maybe—”

  “Maybe we should stop talking and go to sleep.”

  “But I’m not tired.”

  Honor shook her head and pressed a finger to her daughter’s lips. “Maybe you aren’t, but I am. I worked for a very long time today, remember?”

  “Yes.”

  “And now it’s time for me to sleep so that I can be ready to do lots of fun things with you and Candace later on.”

  “Like go to the library?”

  “Exactly like that.” Honor started down the hall again, stopping when Candace peeked out of her room.

  “Is everything okay?” Candace’s voice was husky from sleep.

  “Yes. Lily just needed to talk to me.”

  “Not about Prince Sinclair, I hope.” Candace wrinkled her nose, and shot a disgruntled look in Lily’s direction. “Didn’t I tell you not to bug your mother about that?”

  “I wasn’t, Aunt Candy. Really.”

  “Yeah? So why are we all awake when we should be sleeping?” Candace ruffled Lily’s hair and met Honor’s gaze. “Sorry about this.”

  “Why should you be sorry? You weren’t the one waiting up for me with dreams in your eyes.” Honor smiled at her sister-in-law and pushed open the door to the room she shared with Lily.

  “Yeah, but I am the one who keeps bringing books of fairy tales home from the library. Listen, why don’t you sleep in a little today? I don’t have school, so I can watch Lily until you’re ready to get up.”

  “Candace, you’ve watched her every night this week. I can’t ask you to do more.”

  “You’re not asking. We’re family. Helping each other is what we do.” She smiled, the shadows in her eyes speaking words she wouldn’t say. Words about what real family meant to her. About the time she’d spent without the kind of love every child deserves.

  “Maybe I will, then, but the rest of the day will be yours to do with as you please.”

  “Being here pleases me.” She smiled again, stepping back into her room and closing the door before Honor could comment.

  Honor resisted the urge to knock on the door, make sure Candace was okay, that the shadows in her eyes were gone. Though she’d tried to broach the subject of Candace’s childhood many times over the years, what she knew about it could fit on half a sheet of paper.

  Jay’s mother had inherited a fortune from her father and the family had lived a high-society life in Houston. Money hadn’t bought the family happiness, though. Jay’s stories of the abuse he’d suffered as a kid had torn at Honor’s heart. When his mother had called to ask if Jay’s troubled sister could stay with him for a while, Honor had been quick to agree.

  Five years later, she didn’t regret the decision. Though she wished Jay had been around to see how much his sister had grown, how mature she’d become.

  The melancholy thought brought the sadness that always came when Honor thought of Jay. He might have been a happy-go-lucky dreamer with more ideas than plans for achieving them, but they’d been good friends before they married, and had continued to be friends until the day he’d died. “Come on, Lily-girl, let’s lie down until the sun comes up.”

  “When is that?”

  “A few hours.” Honor tucked Lily under thick blankets, pulling them up around her chin and leaning down to kiss her daughter’s forehead.

  “Maybe we should have a snack first so we don’t get hungry while we sleep.”

  “I don’t think so. Snacks are for times when the sun is up.”

  “Later?”

  “Yes, later. Good night, sweetheart.”

  “Good morning, Mommy.”

  Honor smiled and shook her head. Lily was a funny little girl. Advanced for her age and filled with imagination, she kept Honor and Candace on their toes. For now, though, she seemed to be content to lie in bed quietly. Perhaps she was hoping that would get her an extra snack later on. Whatever the case, Honor was thankful for her daughter’s quiet cooperation. Sharing a room with Lily could be difficult. Especially when Honor was tired and her daughter was not. Unfortunately, the bungalow only had two bedrooms, and it had seemed more important for Candace to have her own room than for Honor to have one.

  Exhausted, Honor dropped onto her bed, kicking off her rubber-soled shoes and stretching out on top of the quilt. She should get up and change, wash her face, go through her normal before-bed routine, but she was too tired to do anything more than lie there.

  A few hours of sleep. That’s all she needed.

  Then she’d be ready to tackle the chores and the unpacking with the energy and enthusiasm the jobs required. If she worked efficiently, her three days off would be plenty of time to get the house under control and regain the routine she and the girls had thrived on when they were in St. Louis. By the time Honor returned to work on Tuesday, she’d have the last of the moving boxes unpacked, the backyard would be free of debris and the little bungalow she’d rented sight unseen would feel more like home.

  FOUR

  “Hey! Mister! Hey! Can you hear me?” The muffled voice drifted into Grayson Sinclair’s dreams, pulling him toward consciousness. Exactly where he didn’t want to be.

  He bit back a groan and threw an arm over his eyes, refusing to open them. He’d spent most of the past forty-eight hours catching up on work and calling contractors to try to line up workers who could make his parents’ Lynchburg rental property handicap accessible. Jude would be staying there once he was released from the hospital.

  It had taken ten phone calls to convince his brother of that. Only by threatening the unthinkable—their mother staying with Jude in his New York apartment while he recovered—had Grayson been able to achieve his goal. He wanted his brother close to family during the long recovery ahead. Eventually his brother might thank him for that.

  “Mister?” The little kid’s voice intruded again, and this time he couldn’t ignore it.

  Grayson scowled and dropped his arm, glancing around the sunny solarium, searching for the speaker. He spotted her quickly, the Day-Glo pink coat and bright pink tutu she wore standing out in stark relief against the grays and browns of early winter. Face pressed against the glass, dark hair spilling out in wild ringlets, Honor Malone’s daughter looked just as impish as she had two days ago. Not that he’d thought much about the Malone family since then.

  Liar.
/>   He’d thought plenty about them. Especially Honor. If he hadn’t been so busy, he might have given in to temptation, stepped through the shrubs that separated their property and knocked on the bungalow’s door.

  “What are you doing out there, Lily?”

  “Looking for a horse.”

  “Well, you’re not going to find one here.” Grayson strode to the door and pulled it open, the blast of icy cold air nearly stealing his breath.

  “Are you sure? Because I was thinking maybe you had one inside your house. It’s a big house. Really big enough for a horse to live in.” She stared up at him, her eyes a deep shade of blue, her cheeks pink from cold.

  “Sorry. I don’t keep horses in my house.” He grabbed a jacket from one of the fancy coat hooks his ex-fiancée had insisted be installed.

  “But Mommy said you had to have one.”

  “Did she? And did she say you were allowed to come over here to look for it?” He slid on the jacket and put a hand on Lily’s shoulder, steering her toward the back of his property as he spoke.

  “No.”

  “Does she even know you’re out here?”

  “Lily? Lily Mae Malone, you’d better come out from wherever you are. Right now!” Honor’s shrill voice carried across the cold backyard and answered Grayson’s question. Obviously, she hadn’t known her daughter was outside, and obviously Lily was about to catch some major trouble.

  He glanced down at the little girl, almost feeling sorry for her. Almost, but not quite. The world was a dangerous place. A kid like Lily should never be wandering around in it alone.

  “She’s over here,” he called out to Honor. They were still fifty yards from the back edge of his property when the thick shrubs parted and she raced into view, dressed in what looked like red nurse’s scrubs. Her straight black hair gleaming in the sunlight, her skin glowing pink from exertion or cold, she ran across the yard and pulled Lily up into her arms.

  “Thank goodness you’re all right. Candace and I were worried sick. What were you thinking leaving the house by yourself?” The words flew out in quick, frantic pants of breath, fear flashing in her eyes as she met Grayson’s gaze.

 

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