by Diane Darcy
Grace held her breath.
A cowboy bid.
The man she’d been talking to earlier from back east bid.
Luke did not. In fact, he turned away and started talking to somebody else.
Grace felt a pang in her chest as her cheeks heated with humiliation. She’d bet anything he wasn’t bidding just so he could get back at her for ignoring him earlier. Or for stranding him on the pond.
The reverend wrapped up the bidding, “And the winner of this basket is …” he pointed at the gentleman she’d spoken with earlier and he jumped onto the platform to pay and claim his basket. The reverend glanced around. “And the lady?” When Grace raised her hand, the man let out an excited whoop.
Grace couldn’t help a smile. At least somebody wanted to eat with her. She shot Luke a glance as she walked off with the gentleman and was gratified to see him watching.
If he didn’t want her, she didn’t want him either.
She wasn’t going to care.
In fact, she didn’t care. She gave the man a wide smile. She’d just get to know this man, have fun eating lunch with him, and then get back to helping the widow stop the tournament.
Luke could starve as far as she was concerned.
A spike of irritation shot through Luke and he felt the need to lash out. He was certainly not having a fun time watching Grace enjoy lunch with her newest suitor.
He should have bid.
She’d just made him so mad when she wouldn’t talk to him. When she’d ignored him. And now, there she was, sitting on a blanket near the pond, laughing with her escort, getting to know the other man.
And looking too beautiful for his peace of mind while she did it.
Blast her.
Now she was talking to some other yahoo that was sitting with Pearl Thomas on the next blanket over, and making him laugh as well. Other than Pearl, the whole group of them chortled like loons.
Luke’s mood darkened.
So much for teaching Grace a lesson. It felt like he was the one being schooled.
He glared at the man she was with. In a suit and tie, he wore a gray bowler hat wrapped with a thin black ribbon. He looked like an idiot. And he had a pudgy stomach his vest simply couldn’t hide. Luke ran a hand down his own rock-hard stomach. He’d bet the other man hadn’t done a hard day’s labor in his life. He’d like to see him swinging a pick in a mine.
He wanted to kill him. Well, maybe not kill him. Certainly he’d like to bash his face a bit. Give him a split lip, or a black eye. Maybe a broken nose. He watched the man laugh again and just the thought of punching him in the throat brought a tight smile to Luke’s mouth. He’d like to see him laugh after that.
He finally couldn’t stand it anymore and stalked over to the couple and joined them. “Hello,” he spoke to both couples. “Is everyone having a good time?”
Grace and her new beau regarded him, Grace’s expression quickly hardening. A man with a thinner skin might think he wasn’t welcome. The man who’d won her basket stood and held out his hand. “Mayor Carrington, isn’t it? I’m George Griffin from Newark.”
“Nice to meet you.” Luke shook the other man’s hand as the other three waved from their seated positions. “How’s your meal?”
George sank down again and looked at the food Grace was unpacking. “It looks really tasty. I wager it’ll be the best one here.” He smiled at Pearl Thomas on the next blanket. “Present company excluded, of course.”
Grace smiled. “Thank you.”
“You didn’t actually cook it yourself, did you Grace? Didn’t Mrs. Phillips make it? That looks like her award winning fried chicken.” Grace glowered as a slight blush pinked her cheeks.
Luke barely kept himself from grinning. “So, anyway, if you’re about done here Grace, I was wondering if you’d like to take a walk with me.”
Grace’s mouth gaped and she looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “No, thank you.”
George’s face reddened. “Now see here, we are trying to enjoy our lunch. Why don’t you leave us in peace to do exactly that?”
“That’s all right. I can wait.”
The man glanced between Luke and Grace, who had stopped unpacking the basket. “Is there something going on here I should know about?”
Luke was glad he asked. “Beyond the fact that Grace is my girl?”
“Luke! Stop it!” Grace snapped.
“If she’s your girl, why didn’t you bid on the basket?”
“Lovers’ quarrel.”
Grace’s face turned a brilliant shade of red, which went quite well with her rose-colored outfit.
The other man glanced between the two of them as his face closed off with polite stoniness. “And now you want to eat lunch with her, is that it?”
“That’s pretty much it.”
“I paid five dollars for this basket.”
Luke pulled a ten-dollar liberty from his pocket and flipped it to the man who caught it, hefted himself up, and stalked off.
Luke sank onto the blanket. “I thought he took that well.”
Grace’s eyes glimmered with outrage. “What do you think you’re doing?” She whispered harshly. “Do you honestly think chest-beating is attractive? You’re acting like a fool.”
He tried for a hurt expression. “What do you mean?”
“You could’ve bid if you’d wanted to. Instead, you ruin my lunch with a man who did bother to bid?”
He couldn’t deny it and didn’t want to discuss it. “Are we fighting again?”
“Yes!”
“Why do you have to be so much trouble?”
“Me?” Grace started to pack her basket but he gently cupped her elbow. “I’m hungry. I paid ten dollars for that meal.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I should leave you to eat it alone.”
That close, staring into each other’s eyes across the basket, the air seemed to thicken. When Grace’s gaze dropped to his mouth, he swallowed thickly and rubbed his thumb up and down her arm. “Let’s just calm down and eat.”
When he released her, Grace hesitated, then started laying out the meal again. Luke glanced around. “It looks like the picnic is a success.”
“If you call stealing another man’s meal from him a success, then I suppose it is,” she snapped.
He grinned as he took the plate she handed him. “He made five dollars off the transaction, so I’m not going to feel guilty about it.” He lifted the plate to smell the fried chicken, potatoes, and cornbread muffin. “It looks good, though.”
She gave him a tight-lipped smile. “As you pointed out, I didn’t make it.”
“It still looks good.”
She exhaled a sharp breath. “Thank you.”
They ate in silence, and after a while, Grace started a conversation with Pearl and her lunch partner. Soon everyone was smiling again as Luke watched Grace draw out the other couple and make the event fun.
She’d make a good wife.
He stilled. Where had that thought come from?
He continued to watch her set the shy girl at ease, make the other young man smile and, as she glanced his way and took his measure, he could almost see the exact moment she decided it would be rude to exclude him from the conversation.
“I have to admit I’m falling for the town. It’s so different from New York. This picnic basket idea is charming. And I certainly enjoy the fact that I have more freedom here.”
“I’m glad. Have you heard about any of the fun activities planned for the fourth? Maybe you could think of something fresh and different to add that’s exclusive to your circle in New York?”
As he joined the conversation, he glanced across at her and admitted to himself he was falling for Grace.
As in, it just might be the real deal this time.
Chapter 12
Grace calmed down and admitted to herself she’d rather eat with Luke anyway, and was just starting to enjoy herself when fat drops of rain began pelting them. “Oh, no!” She flinched when on
e hit the back of her neck, then glanced worriedly at their half-eaten meal spread out on the blanket. “It’s starting to rain!”
Luke laughed, his head tilting backward as he let fat drops of rain sprinkle his face.
Pearl abandoned both basket and companion and ran from the park. The girl was fast, too. Her lunch guest looked helplessly around, and then he took off as well.
As the rain started to soak them, Grace started tossing plates, cups, the jug of apple juice, and various utensils into the basket. Head bent to protect her face, she grabbed the handle and stood. Townspeople scattered, many of them carrying pies they’d purchased, bending their bodies over to protect the pastries as they ran.
Grace started to laugh. “This is absurd!”
Luke grinned as he scooped up the blanket, grabbed her hand, and pulled her along. “Come on, this way!”
It was raining so hard that he could barely see as he led her down the path to the pretty white gazebo at the edge of the park. She was surprised no one else had taken shelter there. As they watched everyone continue to scatter to the main street, they found themselves alone; the only two people left in the park. Water pelted the lake, raindrops dotting the surface and ducks squawked as they made their way underneath the gazebo.
She glanced up to see Luke regarding her in such a way that her heart started to race.
He took the basket from her, set it on the wood floor, and placed the blanket on top. He straightened, then reached for her, slowly, as if testing her reaction.
She didn’t move but her heart pounded harder. They shouldn’t. Not again. There was a reason— if she could just remember what it was.
His hands encased her upper arms and he pulled her tight against his body. He gazed into her face for a long moment before leaning down, easing closer. Her lashes lowered and he kissed her, his warm lips sending sparks of excitement shooting wildly through her as his mouth claimed hers and heat suffused her with slow, delicious warmth.
Oh, my.
The intensity unsettled her and when her knees started to shake, she wrapped her arms around his neck.
He kissed her deeply, possessively, groaning against her mouth before he finally broke the kiss and let her go.
She took an unsteady step backward, crossed her arms and shivered. Her breath came in gasps, both from his touch and the look in his dark eyes. His damp hair curled around his collar, and she wanted to reach out and touch it.
Luke smiled as he took off his jacket and wrapped her in it. “This was either a really good idea, or a really bad one. Come on. As we’re already soaked, I’d better take you home.” His gaze raked over her and she felt it like a touch. “Before I’m tempted otherwise.”
Grinning, he handed her the basket, picked her up, and carried her over several big puddles at the base of the gazebo before setting her down.
So why was she the breathless one?
Laughing, holding her hand, he walked her all the way to Mrs. Braxton’s front door and by the time they arrived, they were drenched and bedraggled. She removed his jacket and handed it back to him. He lifted the inside material to his face and inhaled. “Mm. Vanilla cream, like you. I hope the fragrance lingers.”
“Luke!” She blushed, but realized she liked that he felt that way. Flattered, blushing, she gazed up at him with wide eyes and tried to think of a reason to stay. “Thank you for getting me home safely.”
“I want to protect you. You, Miss Grace Penny Carmichael, are capturing my attention.”
His use of Penny’s name created a sudden ache in her chest. If he knew she was just plain old Grace West, would he still want her? His wife had been part of the San Francisco elite.
Did he consider her New York elite?
Her eyes drifted down, and his hand lifted to cup her cheek, his thumb rubbing over her skin. “Is something wrong?”
Did he want the status Penny would bring him as a Carmichael? The money? Given his past choice, it seemed likely.
“What is it?”
She forced a chuckle, a smile, lifted on her toes and kissed his cheek. It might be the last time she was able to do so. “Thank you for the escort. I’d better go inside or Mrs. Braxton will wonder where I am.”
She hurried inside and closed the door.
She leaned against it and bowed her head as tears pricked her eyes.
If Miss Grace Carmichael wasn’t more careful, Miss Grace West would get her heart broken into a million pieces before returning home.
As Helen sat in church the next day, she surreptitiously glanced around. Luke was absent. Grace was especially pretty today so it was a shame he wasn’t there to see her. How was their brilliant plan supposed to work if he wasn’t present to be ensnared?
Her attention wandered back to the Reverend Dutton and she straightened when he mentioned their latest plan—the upcoming social and the accompanying dance. He cleared his throat, shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and, just when she thought he would lose courage, he finally spit out. “Uh … just so everyone knows, there will be no gamblers allowed at this social.” He glanced down, bashful, but proceeded onward. “To be clear, if you are participating in the upcoming gambling tournament, you will not be welcome at the social and will be refused entry.”
Murmuring rose in the crowded room. She was glad he’d gotten it right and said it so clearly. When he’d protested that excluding people wasn’t charitable, she’d told him to stop being mealy-mouthed about it. Despite his reservations about alienating folk, he’d done a good job. When he glanced up, she smiled at him.
He glanced down and cleared his throat again. “Now, onto our sermon. This week I’ve given a lot of thought to what I should speak on, and decided that charity begins at home would be a good subject to address.”
Helen resisted rolling her eyes. Reverend Dutton could spout all he wanted as long as he continued to exclude the gamblers from their party. Make those men feel the sting of rejection, and maybe they’d come around to a decent way of thinking.
She put her shoulders back and glanced around at the other churchgoers—specifically the men—and noticed a few looking miffed. Ha. She was certain they’d be discussing the ban against gamblers and that, soon enough, every man in town would have heard about it.
The church doors suddenly banged open and Helen, as well as every person in the congregation, jumped and turned around to see Vincent Frost’s thick body outlined there.
“The mayor’s office has been robbed! The safe is empty! Someone took every dollar of the tournament money!”
Helen put a hand to her chest as Grace gasped beside her. Half the men in the congregation rose and one young lady stood, then fainted—Miss Julia Hamilton making a spectacle of herself, as usual.
The money had been stolen? She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. On the one hand, if the tournament ended up being canceled, she was getting exactly what she wanted. On the other hand, the thought of a thief in their town, one so brazen as to break into the Mayor’s private office in broad daylight—well! If some rogue would do that, why would he hesitate to molest the townsfolk in their homes, in their own beds? Was she going to have to hire security for her house?
As Vincent turned and left, the churchgoers hurried to follow, bumping into each other in the rush to the exit. With both doors wide open, she could see what seemed to be the entire town headed toward the mayor’s office. Grace slipped around the bench and hurried away, Nancy’s husband, Mr. Simpson was right behind her. Helen stood and waited for Nancy to join her. They exchanged glances and headed slowly toward the open doors.
“What do you think?” Helen asked.
Nancy shot her a skeptical stare. “You didn’t have anything to do with this, did you?”
“Nancy! Be serious. Of course I didn’t.”
“Just checking. No need to get into a snit.”
Helen huffed out a breath.
“But if you could have—if you’d thought of it—would you have done it?”
“Of course not. If I did something like this, those three boys would never forgive me.”
Nancy nodded. “That’s true enough.”
By the time they made it to the mayor’s office, sure enough, the safe was busted open and empty. Everyone was taking turns peeking into Luke’s office to see it with their own eyes. “Where’s Luke?” Helen asked to no one in particular.
“Did he leave town with the money?” A man shouted out.
Helen scoffed. “There is no way Mayor Carrington took off with the money. I know that boy inside and out. I may not agree with him on a lot of issues, but he is certainly no thief.”
More arguing ensued, with many of the strangers in town yelling the loudest. The gamblers. She schooled her face into a mask of disinterest as she made her way back to the street and out of the crowd. She was sorry for Luke, but there was no need to advertise the fact she was pleased that this had happened. If this meant the end of the blasted tournament, then as far as she was concerned, this was God’s hand directly at work.
There was nothing she could do here. She’d just go home for now. When Luke returned, she was sure this would be sorted out in quick order. Whether the tournament was still in play, well, that was another matter altogether.
The muttering and complaining grew louder. Shouts and shoves broke out as Grace watched Mrs. Braxton plow through men and women with her good friend Mrs. Simpson. Chins high, they left, and Grace knew she should follow, but couldn’t seem to get herself to budge.
“Where is Mayor Carrington?” demanded a man Grace didn’t recognize.
“It’s really suspicious that he’s gone, and so is the money,” said another man.
“Was this just a big scheme to gather a bunch of funds so that he could abscond with them?” called out a cowboy.
“There is no way the mayor stole anything!” Grace shouted out. They ignored her as Gabe, boots jarring loudly as he walked out onto the boardwalk, lifted his hands in a placating gesture. He looked big, tough, and very annoyed.
Grace was never so happy to see someone in her life. She didn’t like that Luke was being accused of dishonesty when he wasn’t there to defend himself.
