by Diane Darcy
Since her family lost everything, she’d always been overlooked. Second-class. There was nothing new in that, except that she knew a rejection from Luke would hurt worse than it ever had before. She took another large sip, and realized she was starting to feel dizzy.
It was all beside the point anyway. If Luke knew who she really was he wouldn’t want her.
“Are you all right, Grace?”
Grace nodded. “I’m fine. I just don’t think it could ever work between me and Luke. I’m certainly a lot different than his first wife.”
“And that’s a good thing!” Minnie said loyally.
“His house intimidates me. Isn’t that an odd reaction to a building?”
Minnie was instantly indignant on her behalf. “You and Luke are perfect for each other. After all this gambling idiocy is resolved, I’m sure you’ll both see that.”
Grace shrugged.
“Did he make you feel like you’re not good enough for him?”
Again, Grace just shrugged.
Minnie took another large swallow. “You know what we should do? We should raid his chicken coop and egg his perfect house. It won’t be so intimidating then, will it?”
Grace looked up and smiled. For some reason, with her head spinning slightly, that felt like the most brilliant notion she’d ever heard of.
“His housekeeper did say that he has too many eggs.”
Minnie laughed. “Truly? Let’s go!”
Chapter 15
Grace was feeling slightly tipsy, dizzy, and excited. What exactly was she doing here?
They sneaked around the back of Luke’s house and headed for the chicken coop. A finger of fear shivered down her spine. Now, why had she thought this was such a good idea?
“Go! Go!” Minnie urged her on.
Grace looked at the back of Luke’s house with its gaping windows. “What if the housekeeper sees us?”
Minnie giggled like a madwoman, an indication that they might have had too many sips of sherry. She shoved Grace from behind. “Just go!”
There were chickens pecking around the yard. “Will they attack us if we take their eggs?”
Apparently, Minnie thought that was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. She started to laugh so hard, she had to hold onto her stomach. She leaned against the side of an outbuilding as she did so.
“Shh. You’re going to get us caught!”
Minnie sucked in a shuddering breath and visibly tried to calm herself. She wiped her eyes and nodded her head, her expression turning solemn. She looked around the corner. “Follow me.”
As Minnie took the lead, Grace followed close behind. As Minnie opened the chicken coop and ducked inside, Grace was at her back.
As she stood in the darkened interior, her nose wrinkled. It smelled of ammonia, chickens, and straw. Chickens sat upon nests, perched on beams, and there were empty nests as well.
“Just feel around,” Minnie said as she did just that. She lifted her apron, and started gathering eggs.
Grace found one egg in an empty nest, but she couldn’t find any more. She looked at a large red hen, and it stared balefully back. She watched Minnie lift a couple of hens and effortlessly steal their eggs, but when she tried to do the same, the red hen pecked her hand. “Ouch!”
“Just move her out of the way.”
“I tried to! She’s vicious!”
“Don’t be a baby!” Minnie’s apron was filled with eggs.
Grace glared at Minnie. “Easier said than done.”
Once again, Grace eased her hand forward to try and stick her fingers under the chicken. When she’d almost reached its body, it spread its wings wide and squawked!
Grace took a step back.
The chicken launched itself from its nest and onto Grace’s upraised arm. She screamed, and tried to dislodge the chicken as she backed away and knocked her head against a beam.
“What are you doing?” Minnie hissed.
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m being attacked!”
When the chicken landed on the ground, Minnie used her foot to urge it toward an opening at the bottom of the coop. Squawking, the chicken flapped its way outside. Minnie turned to look at Grace, and she started to laugh again.
Grace glared. “Really funny.”
“At least you can get to the eggs now,” her friend snickered.
Grace picked up the two eggs and decided three was enough. “Let’s get out of here.”
Giggling, Minnie led the way out of the coop. As they cross the yard, Grace looked up at the house, and saw Luke standing at a second-story window! Her heart stopped in her chest. “Minnie! Look!”
By the time Minnie looked up, Luke wasn’t standing at the window anymore.
“What?”
“Luke was there. Looking at us! Come on! Let’s get out of here!”
“What about egging the house?”
Grace chucked the eggs to the side. “Forget about egging the house! Let’s get out of here!”
This time, Grace was in the lead as they ran around the side of the house.
And straight into Luke.
He grinned widely. “How are you girls doing today? Or should I ask, what are you girls doing today?”
Grace, her mouth opening and closing, looked at Minnie.
“Look!” Minnie dropped about ten eggs at his feet, and all of them cracked open.
Grace, having nothing to say, dropped her eggs, pushed past him, and ran. Minnie let out a shriek of laughter, and was right behind her.
“Hey! Where are you girls going?”
They were laughing hysterically by the time they hit the boardwalk. A quick glance assured them that they weren’t followed.
“Did you see his face?” Minnie howled.
Grace held her side and wiped a tear away, gasping. “I can’t believe he caught us! What must he be thinking right now?”
“That a couple of drunks raided his coop?”
They started walking slower. “Oh, my Lord, how am I ever going to face that man again?”
Minnie looked behind her, then pressed a hand to her mouth. “I think you’re just about to find out.”
Luke caught up to the girls. “All right, where are you girls going?”
He watched as hot color rushed into Grace’s cheeks. He really shouldn’t tease her, but he would anyway. “Do you two need me to walk you home? Arrest you for disturbing the peace?”
Minnie giggled. “Oh, that’s all right, thanks anyway.” She ran a few steps ahead. “But I’m headed out this way so, I’ll see you two later, all right?”
“Minnie! Don’t leave me!”
Luke couldn’t help but chuckle as Minnie hurried away with a raised hand, but without a backward glance. He continued to walk beside Grace. She still wouldn’t look at him. If he was a gentleman, he would probably change the subject.
Apparently he wasn’t. “I’m still wondering—what you were doing in my chicken coop?”
Grace groaned and increased her speed. He found her ridiculously beautiful and very funny. Yes, he was finally able to admit it to himself. He was falling for the enemy.
Something occurred to him that he hadn’t thought about for a while. “Remember that telegram you got? When did you say your friend was coming to town? I’m sort of wondering if I’m going to have any competition.”
She was rushing faster. “Competition?”
“For your affections.”
She shot him an incredulous look just as they reached Mrs. Braxton’s Street. “I told you he was merely an acquaintance. I hope he never comes to town.”
That certainly cheered him up. “Not interested in him? Is it someone your parents are hoping you will notice?”
They reached the house. Before Grace could answer, Mrs. Braxton opened the front door. “Grace? I thought you were out back.”
“Grace, you didn’t answer my question. You’re not interested in him? But your parents are?”
Grace ignored him and hurried up the s
teps.
He watched her go, scowling as Mrs. Braxton shot him a glare before going inside. Why did the widow have to ruin everything?
He hadn’t gotten far when Grace stepped outside again. “Wait.” She practically whispered the word as she ran lightly down the steps. “I actually need to talk to you about that telegram. Can you come to the side of the house later? At ten o’clock tonight? I’ll be waiting.”
Given that the last time he’d talked to her at the study window, he’d kissed her, he thought this was an excellent idea. “I’ll be there.”
“Grace?” The widow had followed her outside.
Grace gave him a little wave, turned toward the house, then hurried up the stairs and out of sight.
He’d definitely be there at ten o’clock.
Luke showed up right at ten o’clock, but ended up waiting a long time.
Why was it that women were always late? His mother. His wife. And now his girl.
He liked the thought of that. Grace was his girl.
He stood hidden behind the big tree at the side of the house, and when he heard a noise at the study window, he rounded the tree.
The window slid open. “Luke?”
“Here.”
She let out a breath, and when he moved close enough, he was disappointed to see she was still dressed, and not in her nightwear as she’d been the time before.
He’d been picturing her in that nightgown.
Regardless, he was happy to see her, and liked this intimate setting. He actually liked sneaking around like this. It was fun; something he hadn’t experienced in quite some time.
“Luke, I’m so glad you came.”
As if he wouldn’t. “What’s this all about?” If she just leaned forward a bit closer, he could drag her out the window again.
“Well …” She leaned forward.
He snagged her, and pulled her right into his arms. He lowered his head for a kiss, but she put her hand up between their mouths.
“Wait. I have something to tell you.”
He adjusted her in his arms, and walked her around the tree. “Tell me.”
“Put me down.”
“I don’t think so. I like you right where you’re at.” He leaned back against the tree, and settled her more comfortably in his arms.
She placed her hand to his chest, and he liked that too. “I’m not sure how to begin.”
“As any good storyteller knows, start at the beginning.”
Grace gave him a slight smile. “When I was in New York City, a man tried to … to take me. He grabbed me, kissed me, and tried to pull me into his coach. I managed to escape and afterward he tried to … to woo me, I suppose. He … he sent flowers. Letters. He acted as if he owned me.”
Luke’s jaw clenched. The thought of another man thinking he owned Grace, frightening her … it made him want to smash something. “I’m listening.” His voice, a deeper octave, betrayed the dark feeling coming over him.
“I heard about the girl in town who died. The young woman at the saloon.”
“Yes.”
“The man in New York sent me flowers. They were always orchids.”
“So?”
“The girl who was killed had an orchid laid over her chest.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I was there when a man in town came running up to tell us the news and show us the flower.” She swallowed. “There were several women murdered in New York City with orchids laid across their chests. They were always blonde.”
Like the prostitute. “So, what? You’re thinking the same man has come to our town?”
“Maybe.”
He held her closer, calmed by the weight of her in his arms, against his body. “Couldn’t the flower be a coincidence?”
“Perhaps. But orchids are very rare. And hard to grow.” She pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket. “I received this telegram from my father. They’ve been trying to track the villain down. Apparently they’ve had some success.”
“So you don’t have a suitor coming to town?”
“No. This telegram was a warning.”
“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”
“I came out here to get away from him. I thought it would be a grand adventure. I didn’t think that there was a chance he could find me. I’m still not convinced that it’s him, but it could be, couldn’t it?”
Luke held Grace closer. The girl killed was a prostitute. Chances were that her profession caused her death. It seemed to him the chances were slim that the same man after Grace in New York would follow her and find her. But better safe than sorry. He set her down, regretting that kisses with Grace would have to wait.
“I need to talk to the sheriff about this. In the meantime, why don’t you stay home.”
He changed his mind, gave her a quick kiss, and helped her safely back inside the window.
He liked the idea of her staying hidden away just fine.
It kept her away from other men.
Chapter 16
Luke went directly to the sheriff’s house.
“What do you want?” Gabe was grumpy when he answered the door. “I’d just climbed into bed. What does a man need to do to get a little sleep around here?”
Luke told Gabe what Grace had said about the obsessive man in New York, and about the orchid. “What do you think?”
“You really think he might have followed her out here?”
“I think we have to at least consider it an option.”
Gabe sighed. “Blast it! This is the last thing we need. What can we do? We have all these new men coming into town on a daily basis. I mean, really? What are the chances that this is the same man?”
“Grace also said he was obsessed with blonde women.”
Gabe sighed again. “Like the girl at the saloon.”
“Exactly.”
Gabe shook his head. “We’ve been looking into it and trying to find a man who’d shown the murdered girl a lot of interest. In the meantime, what are we supposed to do? Do we ship the prostitutes out of town? Is this a one-time thing, do you suppose? Or will there soon be another murder to deal with?”
“I don’t know.”
“If this is the man from New York, I suspect he’ll soon be showing a marked interest in Miss Grace Carmichael. Maybe we could spot him that way.”
Luke blew out a breath. “The only problem with that theory is that everyone in town is too interested in Grace.”
“Yes. Come to think of it, you would go right to the top of my suspect list.”
Luke snorted. “Besides, I’ve told her to stay inside Braxton House.”
“We could use her to set a trap.”
“That is never going to happen,” Luke growled.
“One of us will just have to keep an eye on her. She can’t stay locked inside forever, and even if she did, he could find out where she’s staying.”
Luke’s jaw hardened. “I’ll do it, then.”
“Big surprise. Can I go back to bed now?”
The day was unseasonably warm, and it was even warmer inside the house because of the crowd. Supposedly, Mrs. Braxton was holding a tea and poetry reading. What she was really doing was plotting.
When the invite for the party had gone out, Mrs. Braxton had made it crystal clear that no gamblers were welcome.
Grace had half expected Luke to show up and crash the party. As it turned out, none of the gamblers wanted to come anyway, so their exclusion wasn’t quite the success that Mrs. Braxton had hoped for.
Darn it, Grace had actually been anticipating seeing Luke.
She’d certainly rather be with him than in the miserably hot house, listening to a bunch of ladies who really weren’t making any progress anyway.
Grace stifled a yawn. She was thinking about Luke’s demand that she stay inside the house. Had she overreacted to the whole thing? Was she really in danger? Or had the entire situation been blown out of proportion?
Elijah had come by earlier to let her k
now that Angel was in jail and had another letter for her to read. Or to write. He hadn’t been clear which.
Either way, going to the jail had to be more exciting than what was happening here.
“Well, ladies, what do we do? It’s more important than ever that we stop this gambling tournament before it goes any further.”
Grace found herself drifting.
“We could hold a church social!” One of the church ladies threw out.
Mrs. Braxton gave the woman a withering look. “We just did that.”
“The Fourth of July picnic is in two weeks,” Another lady intoned.
Again, Mrs. Braxton looked disapproving. “We need to do something before then.”
A timid woman raised her hand. “How about another dance?”
Mrs. Braxton shook her head. “The last was not much of a success, was it?”
The mood in the room turned dismal. The ladies looked at each other, down at the floor, at Mrs. Braxton, and everyone seemed at a loss.
“What else is left?” One of the ladies finally spoke up.
“We could make our husbands miserable until they run this tournament out of town,” a woman in the back offered.
One of the ladies straightened, a look of disdain upon her face. “My husband is not in the gambling tournament.”
Another lady piped up. “Most of them are strangers from out of town.”
One of the ladies turned to Grace. “It’s a shame you’re not already married to Mayor Carrington, because then you could have a much stronger influence.”
Grace’s mouth gaped for a moment, but she found she had nothing to say to that.
“So we’re out of ideas?” Mrs. Simpson fanned herself slowly as she looked around the room.
Again, the ladies glanced at each other, and finally settled their gazes upon Mrs. Braxton. She sank down on the couch, and for the first time looked a bit helpless and hopeless herself. “What are we to do? Men are coming to town. Women of ill repute are coming along with them. It is not to be borne.”
Mrs. Simpson sighed. “Maybe there’s nothing to be done but to let it run its course?”
Mrs. Braxton sighed. “We have to do something, even if we just protest outside of the mayor’s office. This is our town, we elected him, and he should listen to us.”
