The Price of Honor

by Janis Reams Hudson

  “I want you to kiss me.”

  Stunned, shocked, Grady gaped. “You want what?”

  She gave him a fleeting smile. “I guess that’s my answer, huh?” She turned toward the door.

  “Rachel, wait.” He lunged to his feet and reached for her. His knee gave again, and again she caught him.

  But he caught her, too. Caught her, wrapped his arms around her and held her close. Maybe, he thought, if he kissed her, he could get her out of his head once and for all. The reality of kissing Rachel could be nearly as staggering as his memories.

  An instant later, when his mouth settled on hers, he knew he’d been wrong. On both counts. Kissing Rachel was even more staggering than he’d remembered. And it wasn’t about to get her out of his head.

  Not now, not ever…

  Dear Reader,

  Welcome to a spectacular month of great romances as we continue to celebrate Silhouette’s 20th Anniversary all year long!

  Beloved bestselling author Nora Roberts returns with Irish Rebel, a passionate sequel to her very first book, Irish Thoroughbred. Revisit the spirited Grant family as tempers flare, sparks fly and love ignites between the newest generation of Irish rebels!

  Also featured this month is Christine Flynn’s poignant THAT’S MY BABY! story, The Baby Quilt, in which a disillusioned, high-powered attorney finds love and meaning in the arms of an innocent young mother.

  Silhouette reader favorite Joan Elliott Pickart delights us with her secret baby story, To a MacAllister Born, adding to her heartwarming cross-line miniseries, THE BABY BET. And acclaimed author Ginna Gray delivers the first compelling story in her series, A FAMILY BOND, with A Man Apart, in which a wounded loner lawman is healed heart, body and soul by the nurturing touch of a beautiful, compassionate woman.

  Rounding off the month are two more exciting ongoing miniseries. From longtime author Susan Mallery, we have a sizzling marriage-of-convenience story, The Sheik’s Secret Bride, the third book in her DESERT ROGUES series. And Janis Reams Hudson once again shows her flair for Western themes and Native American heroes with The Price of Honor, a part of her miniseries, WILDERS OF WYATT COUNTY.

  It’s a terrific month of page-turning reading from Special Edition. Enjoy!

  All the best,

  Karen Taylor Richman

  Senior Editor

  JANIS REAMS HUDSON

  THE PRICE OF HONOR

  Books by Janis Reams Hudson

  Silhouette Special Edition

  Resist Me if You Can #1037

  The Mother of His Son #1095

  His Daughter’s Laughter #1105

  Until You #1210

  *Their Other Mother #1267

  *The Price of Honor #1332

  JANIS REAMS HUDSON

  was born in California, grew up in Colorado, lived in Texas for a few years and now calls central Oklahoma home. She is the author of more than twenty-five novels, both contemporary and historical romances. Her books have appeared on the Waldenbooks, B. Dalton and Bookrack bestseller lists and earned numerous awards, including the National Readers’ Choice Award and Reviewer’s Choice Awards from Romantic Times Magazine. She is a three-time finalist for the coveted RITA Award from Romance Writers of America and is a past president of RWA.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  “Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay for lunch?”

  Rachel noted the sadness and exhaustion in Alma’s eyes and smiled. “Okay,” she said, relenting. She realized Alma didn’t want to be alone while Joe was gone to the store. Alone, she would have too much time to think and worry. “Thanks. But I can’t stay long.” Her smile faded. “I don’t need to be here when Grady arrives.”

  “Maybe not, honey.” Alma placed a work-worn hand on Rachel’s arm. “But you’re going to have to see him sooner or later.”

  Rachel sighed and walked with Alma toward the kitchen. “I know. It’ll be all right.”

  “Maybe better here and now than tomorrow during the funeral.”

  “Maybe,” Rachel murmured. And maybe not. And maybe she was making a bigger deal out of seeing Grady again than she needed to. Besides, he wasn’t due for hours. Joe would be back from town soon. Rachel would be long gone by the time Grady showed up.

  She was sitting across the kitchen table from Alma a few minutes later eating a roast-beef sandwich when they heard the front door slam shut and a voice call out.

  Rachel stiffened. It had been five years, but she recognized that voice. It was his. Grady’s.

  It was too early! He wasn’t due for hours. What was she going to do? How was she going to act? She wasn’t ready to face him.

  “In here,” Alma called as she rose from the table.

  Oh, damn, oh damn. Rachel could hear him coming down the hall to the kitchen.

  Her reaction, she knew, was out of proportion. Ridiculous. Grady Lewis was nothing to her. He’d lost the right to be anything more than a bad memory when he betrayed her love and trust five years ago. She would be polite because he was Dr. Ray’s son. Aside from her brothers, there was no man on earth she had ever respected more, including her own father, than Dr. Raymond Lewis. For him, she would face Grady and not allow the past to rear its ugly head.

  Once Grady had been the center of her world, but now he would mean no more to her than a casual acquaintance. Someone she would nod to if she passed him on the street. Anything else would be inappropriate, considering the reason he’d come home after all this time.

  But if he meant so little to her, why was her heart pounding like the hooves of a hundred stampeding mustangs? Heaven help her, her mouth was dry, her palms were damp, and she hadn’t even seen him yet.

  Surprise, she assured herself. It was only the surprise of his early arrival. She hadn’t expected to see him until tomorrow.

  She placed the remains of her roast-beef sandwich carefully on the plate before her and pushed herself to her feet. “I’ll be going,” she said to Alma.

  “You can’t avoid him for long,” Alma reminded her quietly.

  Rachel forced a smile. “Of course not. But I’m sure the two of you have a lot to talk about.”

  Her smile faded. What they had to talk about was the fact that tomorrow they would see Grady’s father and brother to their final resting places. That was the only reason Grady had come home after all these years. For the funeral.

  Rachel turned toward the door, and there he stood. Grady Lewis had come home. The room suddenly seemed airless as he filled it with his presence. As she moved, she felt as though she were pushing through thick molasses.

  He looked different, yet so much the same that it startled her. After the pain of his betrayal five years ago, anger had set in. She had fantasized that he’d gotten fat and bald and lost his two front teeth. Not very charitable of her, but then, she hadn’t felt very charitable toward him in years. Hadn’t felt anything about him. Not anything at all.

  But her fantasies had been wrong. Devastatingly wrong. Grady Lewis was even more…impressive at twenty-six than he had been at twenty-one. His wide, Shoshone cheekbones were sharper, more chiseled, and he was bigger than she remembered. Not taller, but broader in the shoulders, thicker in the chest. He’d lost that lean, lanky look of youth and gained the solid build of a big, strong man.

  His hair was shorter. He used to wear it halfway down his back. As a taunt, she’d always thought, a dare. Now
that thick black silk barely reached his shoulders. But he was no less good-looking for it. On the contrary, he’d become a devastatingly handsome man.

  His eyes hadn’t changed. They were still the vibrant blue-green of a midday sea, and just as deep. The expression in them just as unfathomable.

  Rachel took a small, calming breath. “Hello, Grady.”

  His gaze held hers for a long moment. Then he looked down at his side. “Cody, this is Miss Wilder.”

  Oh, God, oh, God, Rachel thought as she looked down at the little boy whose hand Grady held. She could hardly breathe. This was Grady’s son. La-Verne’s son.

  The five-year-old boy held out his hand. “How do you do, Miss Wilder.”

  As far as Rachel could see, there was no resemblance at all to LaVerne Martin. But for his eyes—he’d gotten David’s big brown eyes, Shoshone eyes, inherited from David and Grady’s mother—Cody Lewis could have been cloned directly from Grady. He looked so much like that rowdy six-year-old she’d met on the playground her first day of school that it took her breath away.

  Before Rachel could tumble back into those old memories, she shook the boy’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Cody.” His hand was so small in hers, fragile yet sturdy. Trusting. “I’ve heard a lot of good things about you.”

  “From my grandad?” he asked, his eyes wide.

  Rachel squatted down to his eye level. “That’s right. And your Uncle David, and Alma and Joe.”

  “Grandad and Uncle David died,” the boy said matter-of-factly.

  Rachel’s heart clenched. “I know, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

  “They went to heaven to be with my mother and Grandma and Bozo.”

  A lump rose in Rachel’s throat. “Bozo?”

  “He was my puppy. He went to heaven last winter to be with Grandma ’cuz she was lonesome. But she’s not lonesome anymore.”

  “No,” Rachel said softly. “No, I’m sure she’s not.”

  “And Uncle David’s all better now, too.”

  While her heart broke, Rachel pressed her lips together to keep them from wobbling. She didn’t dare look at Alma or Grady, or she would burst into tears. Meeting Cody’s five-year-old eyes, eyes that were filled with wisdom far beyond his age, was difficult enough. “Yes,” she managed. “Uncle David is all better now.”

  Cody blinked up at her. “Don’t worry, Miss Wilder. It’s sad, but it’s okay to be sad.”

  In that moment, it didn’t seem to matter that this boy was the product of his father’s betrayal. Grady and Rachel had been engaged to be married. They’d shared their dreams, their deepest secrets, their love, for years. And he had fathered a child on LaVerne Martin. “Loose LaVerne,” as she’d been known around town. And Cody was the result.

  But none of that mattered as Rachel looked into those deep Shoshone eyes and realized she had just fallen in love.

  She sniffed and offered him a smile. “You’re a pretty smart kid, you know that?”

  He smiled back. “I take after my dad.” He looked up at Grady with all the love and hero worship in a young boy’s heart.

  Rachel looked around the room. Anywhere but at Grady or Alma. Anywhere to stem the flood of tears welling in her eyes. She spied her half-eaten lunch. Grabbing the plate, she whisked it away and threw the remains of her sandwich down the garbage disposal. With the manner of someone completely at ease in another’s kitchen, she put her plate in the dishwasher and used the dishrag to give a swipe to the counter.

  “I’ve got to be going. I’ll let myself out.”

  “Are you going back to the clinic?” Alma asked.

  “Yes.” She grabbed her purse from the counter. “Take care. I’ll…see you tomorrow.”

  To avoid having to pass near Grady, she left via the back door. Escaped was more like it, she thought with self-disgust. Why should she turn tail and run? She had nothing to run from. Just her biggest heartache. All six feet of him. And his son.

  God, but it hurt to know that after one brief meeting, she was already in love with that five-year-old boy.

  “Dad?”

  Grady looked down and realized his grip was so tight he was about to break Cody’s fingers. He released the small hand instantly. “Sorry, pard. Did I hurt you?”

  “Naw.”

  Sweet Lord, Grady thought. Rachel Wilder. She was still beautiful enough to steal his breath.

  He’d known he would have to see her, because she worked at his father’s clinic. But he hadn’t expected her to be at the house when he arrived. Hadn’t been prepared for that first sight of her.

  He used to carry a picture of her in his wallet. Her high-school graduation photo. But he’d had to take it out when Cody got big enough to snoop and ask questions. Questions like, “Who’s she? Why don’t you have a picture of my mom?”

  The photo had been several years old by then anyway, worn, faded and cracked. But his memories had seemed as fresh as yesterday, memories of Rachel on horseback, Rachel at the high-school football field, Rachel strolling beside him on campus at college. Rachel standing on her own staircase the morning after Cody’s birth, tears streaming down her face while she refused to give him a chance to explain.

  He had tried, really tried over the years to hate her for that. For her refusal to listen. Now and then he could actually accomplish it, but the hate never lasted for long. Even if she had listened to him that day, chances were that nothing would have changed. Things could have gotten even worse. As it was, he’d lost everything that ever meant anything to him, except Cody. But he could have lost Cody, too, if he hadn’t taken him and left town.

  He’d known Rachel would still be beautiful, and he’d been right. Just looking at her still took his breath away. From her shoulder-length hair as black as a raven to her smooth creamy skin and her Wilder blue eyes, she was nothing less than a knockout. Her reaction to Cody told him she still had that same inner beauty, too. A man would have to be a fool to walk away from a woman like her.

  A fool, he thought, looking at Cody, or desperate. He guessed he’d been both.

  He watched as Alma stared at the back door, where Rachel had just departed. There had always been a special bond between Rachel and Alma, and he could see that Alma was troubled.

  “You’re not going to hurt her again, are you?” Alma asked, still staring at the door.

  Grady felt his shoulders slump. He’d thought…hoped for a different type of greeting from the woman who’d raised him. “Thanks,” he said, bitterness creeping into his voice. “Yes, it is good to be home.”

  Alma pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

  Grady wanted to shout, Yes, it was. He wanted this woman’s approval, needed it. Desperately. He’d done what he had to do five years ago. He’d done the best he could at the time. He’d known then, as he knew now, that no one understood his reasons. But he didn’t want Alma upset with him or worried about Rachel. Not now. Not with what they were facing tomorrow.

  And really, what could he say to her about Rachel and all that had happened back then? He’d held the truth so tight for so long, had buried it so deeply, he wasn’t sure he could bring it out into the light of day. Besides, Rachel wasn’t the only one who had had her heart ripped to shreds five years ago. She’d done her share of damage to him. By her refusal to listen, to let him explain, she had in essence made Grady’s final decision for him.

  Not that he had known what he would have said to her that day Cody was born and the whole town heard about it. All he’d managed to get out was “Let me explain.”

  Hell. He had no business dwelling on the past and thinking about Rachel instead of what lay before him.

  “Forget it,” he told Alma.

  “You’re right,” she said tiredly. “Whatever’s going to happen between you and Rachel is none of my business.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen between me and Rachel.”

  “You’re right again,” Alma said, adding a nod this time for emphasis. “You
’ve both moved on since then.” She looked at him for a long moment, trying to smile but failing. Then she held out her arms. “Welcome home, boy.”

  “Damn,” Grady whispered as he and Alma embraced.

  Alma and Joe Helms had worked for the Lewis family since before Grady’s first birthday. Grady’s mother had hired Alma to help with the kids and the house. His father had hired Joe to run the ranch while Ray got his new veterinary clinic up and running. They’d been with the Lewis family ever since.

  It was hard for a man to maintain his dignity when being hugged by the woman who’d changed his diapers and swatted his behind more times than anyone could count.

  “I can’t believe they’re gone,” Alma said, stepping back a minute later and swiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

  “Neither can I,” Grady admitted.

  They stood for a minute, looking at each other, seeing the grief in each other’s eyes for Ray and David and all that was lost. Then she hugged him tight again.

  “Thank God,” Alma murmured, enveloping Grady in her welcoming arms. “Thank God you’re home.” She squeezed hard, then thrust him back at arm’s length. “Let me get a good look at you. Hmph. Good-looking as ever. And you brought that beautiful little…” She turned toward Cody still standing near the door. “Come here, you sweet thing, you.”

  Grady smiled while Alma nearly smothered Cody in hugs and kisses. Cody blushed, but to his credit he neither squirmed nor tried to wriggle away. Alma and Joe had come to see them last winter, so they weren’t strangers to Cody. It did Grady’s heart good to see him take to Alma so easily.

  Since Grady’s mother died before his fourth birthday, he’d grown up with Alma as his surrogate mother, his confessor, disciplinarian, coconspirator, knee-bandager, wound-kisser, advisor, and all-around best friend. There was no one in Cody’s life to fill those roles but him, and Grady knew he couldn’t begin to fill Alma’s shoes, nor his father’s, nor Joe’s.

  Finally Alma turned Cody loose and in less than two minutes had him seated at the table with a sandwich, a plate of cookies and a cold glass of milk.