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The Protector's Promise (The Sinclair Brothers)

Page 15

by Shirlee McCoy


  “Sometimes.” But not this time, because Honor couldn’t risk her heart for something that might not ever be.

  “You don’t think it will be like that for you?”

  “I tried for a lifetime before, Grayson. With a man I’d known and admired and fallen in love with. We were best friends before we married and best friends after, but even that wasn’t enough to make it work.”

  “It takes two committed people to make something work.”

  She knew what he wasn’t saying—that it was obvious Jay hadn’t been committed. She didn’t comment on it though, because it was late and she was tired. Because saying it wouldn’t change anything. Because it was time to say good-night to Grayson. And goodbye. “Thank you for the escort, Grayson, but I’d rather you not bother tomorrow. I’ve been doing things on my own for a long time and, really, that’s how I prefer it.”

  He stared at her for moment, his eyes dark as a storm-filled cloud. Then he nodded. “All right, Honor. But just so you know, sharing a road isn’t the same as offering an escort.”

  “I—”

  “You were right when you said I needed some sleep. Go on inside or I’ll never get home.”

  Honor thought about saying a hundred different things, but in the end she said nothing but good-night. There was nothing she could say that would change what was happening. Nothing she could do to convince Grayson that there was no attraction between them. Nothing she could do to convince herself that she didn’t want to see him again.

  She closed the door and turned the lock, waiting until Grayson’s car engine purred to life, the sound slowly fading, before she turned and walked down the hall.

  EIGHTEEN

  Honor expected both girls to be asleep when she walked into the house, and she crept down the hall silently, hoping to keep it that way. Lily hadn’t been sleeping well lately, and the last thing Honor needed was to have to deal with her daughter’s imagination. It could take an hour to settle Lily in again if she decided she needed to be up and talking about her prince or her dragon or any other fantastical thing that her four-year-old mind could conjure.

  Determined to get into bed as quickly as possible, Honor almost ignored the bright light that was spilling out from under Candace’s door. Her sister-in-law might be up studying, or might have fallen asleep with the lights on. In either case, she was eighteen and didn’t need to be checked on. Old habits were hard to break, though, and Honor knocked gently, not really expecting an answer, but knowing she wouldn’t be content to go to sleep without making sure Candace was okay.

  “Come in.” Her sister-in-law’s voice sounded muffled, and Honor pushed open the door, concerned when she saw Candace curled up on the bed, still dressed and facing the wall.

  “Is everything okay, Candace?”

  “The sheriff left a message on the answering machine. He didn’t want to call you at work.”

  “About what?” Honor crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. She knew her sister-in-law well enough to know that she couldn’t rush the truth out of her. Whatever was wrong, Candace would let her know in her own good time.

  “Mom.”

  “Mom?” It had been a long time since Honor had heard Candace mention the woman who’d raised her until she was thirteen.

  “Yeah. You know. The woman who was happy to get rid of me. The one who said I was too much trouble to have at home.”

  “What about her?” Honor brushed thick bangs out of Candace’s eyes, trying to read her expression.

  “She’s dead.”

  “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m not.” A single tear slid down Candace’s cheek and soaked into her bedspread.

  “I know you don’t mean that.”

  “I do mean it.”

  Honor knew better than to argue. Candace’s emotions could rage as wildly as a forest fire, but they always died down quickly. She’d broach the subject again, once Candace had time to deal with what she was feeling. “Did the sheriff say what happened?”

  “He just left a message saying you should call him. Of course, I know what happened. She drank herself to death. She always cared more about her vodka than anything else.” Candace’s words held a lifetime of bitterness and pain.

  “She cared about you, Candace. I know she did.”

  “How could you possibly know that? She never did one thing to show it.” Another tear fell, and Honor’s heart broke for her sister-in-law.

  “Did the sheriff speak to your father? Did he leave a number where we could reach him?” Chad Malone hadn’t spoken a word to Honor at his son’s funeral. Nor had he acknowledged his daughter. His wife, Melanie, had been silent, too, her blue eyes faded and blank as if life had taken everything she had to give.

  “No. All the sheriff said was that Mom has been dead for two weeks. Even if he’d left a number, I wouldn’t want to call my father. Two weeks. And he couldn’t even let me know.”

  “Candace…” Honor’s voice trailed off as she tried to think of the right words to say. The fact was, it had been Candace’s choice to break ties with her family. There had been phone calls from Melanie during the first year after Candace had moved in with Honor and Jay, but Candace had always refused to speak to her mother. Paid airline tickets had gone unused because Jay hadn’t seen a reason to force his sister to visit her parents, who had made it clear she wasn’t wanted. Honor had tried to change both her husband’s and her sister-in-law’s minds with no success.

  After a year, the phone calls had stopped. There had been no more talk of visits. Candace had been relinquished completely, but Honor had known that her sister-in-law had never truly let go of her parents or the past she’d shared with them.

  “She wasn’t a good mother, Honor. Not like you. She drank to forget and she forgot a lot. But she was still my mother.” Candace’s words were barely audible, and Honor smoothed a hand over her hair, wishing she had words that would take away the pain her sister-in-law was feeling.

  “And she loved you in her own way, Candace.”

  “You’re sweet, but she didn’t. Not as much as she loved other things. One of the most important lessons I’ve learned from you is that true love has no limitations or boundaries. It goes on despite time or distance. No matter what. My mother’s love was never like that. If it had been, she never would have let me go.”

  Tears burned behind Honor’s eyes, and she patted Candace’s shoulder. “And one of the things I’ve learned from you is that the unexpected things in life are often the most wonderful. Another thing I’ve learned is that the best kind of sister is a sister of the heart, and that’s what you are to me, Candace. Truly.”

  “Thanks.” Candace’s smile was a quick curve of her lips, gone before it was ever really there.

  “I’ll call the sheriff first thing in the morning and find out what happened.”

  “I don’t need to know. I don’t want to know.” But she did, and Honor could feel it.

  “Maybe he can give me your father’s address and phone number. We could call—”

  “No!” Candace bit her lip, and then continued more quietly. “My mom was a lost soul. My father was evil. I don’t want anything from him. Not even answers about what happened to my mother.”

  “Candace—”

  “I’m really sorry, but I’m tired and I’ve got school tomorrow. So, if you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about this anymore.”

  Honor wanted to continue the discussion, but knew it would lead nowhere. She’d learned long ago that conversations about Candace’s childhood were off limits. It had been the same with Jay. He’d told her just enough to help her understand why he wouldn’t say more.

  “All right. If you want to talk, I’m always ready to listen.”

  “I know. Good night, Honor.”

  “Good night.” Honor reached for the light switch, but Candace levered herself up in bed.

  “Leave it on, okay?”

  “Sure.” Honor closed the door, tears clogging her
throat and filling her eyes. It hurt to see Candace in pain and to know that there was nothing she could do about it.

  Antsy, anxious and wishing it were a decent hour so she could call Jake, get her father-in-law’s number, do something, Honor went to the kitchen, made a cup of tea and sat at the table. Rain tapped against the windows and roof, the sound a soothing reminder of spring in Ireland and the subtle scent of grass and flowers drifting in the open windows of her parents’ home.

  She missed those days, but more than that, she missed the sense of security she’d always had there. Since Jay’s death, Honor’s life had been about paying bills, paying off debts and keeping the household afloat. Enjoying the simple pleasures of spring rain or winter snow had become more difficult than Honor had ever imagined. Balance. Prioritizing. Those were things Honor was always struggling with. It wouldn’t be so bad to have someone share that burden with her. It wouldn’t be so bad to believe that Grayson was right and that a lifetime could be made by two committed people. Her parents had done it. Some of her friends had been married for a decade or more.

  And Honor had been married for six years to a man who’d never seemed committed to anything more than himself. She’d been so naive, so sure that love could conquer all. It couldn’t. It could only open a person up to pain, to heartache and to disappointment.

  She rubbed the ache in her lower back and sipped chamomile tea, wishing the past didn’t seem so much a part of the present lately. Hearing that Melanie had passed away only added to the worry she’d been feeling. The news would have to be dealt with. She’d have to contact Candace’s father to offer condolences no matter how Candace felt about it.

  Not that he necessarily needed condolences.

  From everything Jay had told her, Melanie and Chad Malone had had a rocky relationship filled with knock-down, drag-out fights. Still, after so many years of marriage, Chad must feel some grief over his wife’s death.

  Maybe.

  But Honor knew enough about her father-in-law to recognize that Candace’s words were a little too close to the truth. Chad wasn’t evil, but he was empty. The kind of person who needed more and more to fill the hollowness inside. A black hole of emotion that sucked everything in and never let go.

  Honor hadn’t needed to spend a lot of time with the man to realize that. All she’d had to do was watch how he treated his wife and his children.

  She sighed and stood to pace across the room and stare out the window. In the distance, a single light burned through the rain and the darkness. She knew whose it was, and the temptation to pick up the phone and call him filled her.

  Such a dangerous longing, the need to share her thoughts and concerns with someone else.

  Her fingers tightened on the teacup, and she turned away.

  “I don’t need Grayson Sinclair, Lord. What I need are answers. I need to find out who’s been stalking me. I need to find out what happened to Melanie so I can give Candace some sense of closure. I need to get settled in and I need to move on, but I don’t need Grayson.” She whispered the prayer out loud, sure that God heard, but not sure He agreed.

  Since the day she’d become a Christian when she was eight years old, Honor had understood that God had a plan and a purpose for her. She’d believed that the people that came into her life, the circumstances she faced were all part of His plan. Time and experience hadn’t changed her mind or altered her faith, but they had forced her to accept that sometimes she wouldn’t know all the reasons behind the things that happened to her.

  It was possible, even probable, that God had put Grayson into Honor’s life for a reason. Whether that was to keep her safe, or for some other reason, she didn’t know. What she knew was that she wasn’t comfortable with it.

  She’d made up her mind about men a long time ago.

  She didn’t plan to change it.

  But maybe God did.

  The thought didn’t comfort Honor as she put the teacup into the sink and retreated to her bedroom. She had a lot to do tomorrow. Calls to make. Errands to run. A man to avoid.

  Somehow she thought the last would be much more difficult than the others.

  NINETEEN

  By ten the following morning, Honor had called Jake and gotten Chad’s address and phone number. Florida. Honor had never imagined her Houston-born in-laws would move from their home state. Though, in the time after Jay’s death they had moved from the suburbs of Houston to a country estate. Honor had lost track of them after that, her Christmas cards had been returned two years in a row. She’d had too much going on to worry much about where her in-laws were or what they were doing. They had known where she lived. She’d made sure to inform them as soon as she moved to the apartment in St. Louis.

  The fact that they hadn’t been courteous enough to do the same when they’d moved hadn’t surprised her, and Honor had spent little time thinking about it.

  Obviously they hadn’t wanted to.

  She glanced at the paper she’d left on the kitchen table, Chad’s phone number written in black marker. All she had to do was pick up the phone and dial, but the thought of doing so filled her with dread. She’d spoken to Chad only three or four times, but it was enough for her to know that she’d rather not speak with him again. For Candace’s sake, she’d do it.

  But not yet.

  She pulled stew beef from the refrigerator, poured oil into a pan and coated the beef with flour. Outside, rain continued to fall, soaking the yard so that brown, weed-filled puddles formed. Soft music drifted out of the dining room where Lily sat coloring pictures and listening to her favorite Kids’ Praise CD. Why ruin such a peaceful morning by calling a man who knew nothing about peace?

  Because it had to be done, that’s why.

  When Candace came home from classes, Honor wanted to be able to tell her what had happened to Melanie. She wanted to be able to give Candace information about where her mother was buried, offer to go with her to the grave even if that meant traveling to Texas or Florida to do so. Whatever Candace needed to do to find closure, that’s what Honor wanted to offer.

  But she wouldn’t be able to offer anything at all if she didn’t hurry up and call Chad. She frowned, dropping floured beef into the hot oil and browning it. Why was she being so wishy-washy about this? It wasn’t like Chad was suddenly going to become part of their lives. He’d been more than happy to leave them alone for the past four years. There was no reason to think things had changed.

  Was there?

  Chad had just lost his wife. What if he felt the need to reconnect with the family he’d been so distant from?

  A soft knock on the back door made Honor jump, and she turned to the sound, her pulse racing. “Who is it?”

  “Grayson.”

  “What are you doing out in the rain?” Honor pulled the door open, surprised to see her neighbor.

  Her friend?

  More?

  “Waiting for you to ask me in.” He held a large black umbrella, but his hair was wet, his jacket speckled with raindrops.

  “So come in.”

  “Something smells good.” He left the umbrella in the mudroom and shrugged out of his coat, laying it over the back of the chair.

  “I’m making stew for lunch.”

  “It’s just a little past ten. Isn’t it kind of early for lunch?”

  “It takes time to make a good stew.”

  “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been much of a cook. Though I have to admit to a fondness for good, hearty stew.” He moved toward the stove and looked down into the pot. “Is it beef stew?”

  “Just like my mother use to make.”

  “Looks like what my mother use to make, too. There was nothing quite like it on a cold, rainy day.” He was begging an invitation, but Honor wasn’t sure issuing one would be the best way to protect her heart, so she just smiled, pouring broth over the beef and pretending she didn’t notice.

  “Mr. Sinclair!” Lily raced into the room, a page from her coloring book clutched in her hand. “
Look what I made for you.”

  He took it, studying the brightly colored picture like it was a masterpiece and he an art connoisseur. “This is beautiful, Lily. I love the colors you used.”

  “The pink?”

  “Yes. And the yellow, blue, green and purple.” He glanced at Honor and smiled, including her in the exchange.

  Her heart skipped a beat, and she turned her attention back to the stew, trying her best to ignore how kind Grayson was being to her daughter, how sweet his attention to the scribbled paper he’d received. Why did he have to be so perfect? Why couldn’t he be impatient with Lily or unkind to Candace? At least then, she’d have an excuse besides cowardice to keep her distance.

  “It’s a gray day, so I used lots of colors. Like a rainbow. It’s for you. See, I wrote your name on it.”

  Surprised, Honor glanced at the paper again. Lily was precocious for her age, reading books and copying words, but there was no way she could have known how to spell “Sinclair.”

  And of course, she hadn’t.

  She’d written “Mr. Prince” in bold letters at the bottom of the page, and Honor couldn’t help smiling. “Didn’t I tell you not to call him that, Lily Mae?”

  “Yes, Mommy, but I couldn’t spell his real name, so I had to write this one. I got it from the fairy-tale book Candace bought me.”

  Grayson laughed, ruffling Lily’s hair and then folding the paper she’d given him and sliding it into his shirt pocket. “This is a great picture. Maybe you can color me another one for my brother. He hasn’t been feeling well, so a picture like this might really cheer him up.”

  “Okay!” Lily skipped away, her curls flying in wild disarray. The room fell silent as she left it.

  “I suppose you sent her out of here for a reason?” Honor pulled onions from the cupboard and started chopping them.

  “I saw Jake at the courthouse an hour ago. He mentioned that he’d had some bad news to deliver to you, but wouldn’t tell me what it was. I had to go home and grab the suit jacket I’d forgotten, so I figured I’d stop in here and see if things were okay.”

 

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