Wendy Lindstrom

by Kissing in the Dark

  “I’ve never found a man worth marrying.”

  “Well, you’ve found him now, Miss Wilde. I’m Patrick Lyons. I suppose you’ll want to be courted before we marry?”

  Faith nearly gasped aloud. What a rascal!

  But Iris seemed to like his too-forward outrageous manner, because she laughed. “Mr. Lyons, what are you delivering to my door other than blarney?”

  He glanced at Faith, then leaned closer. “It’s Pat, or Patrick, if you prefer. I have a delivery for Faith Wilkins.”

  Faith lowered her lashes, embarrassed that she’d been shamelessly eavesdropping. But with that heated introduction, how could she not?

  “Oh . . . of course,” Iris said, but Faith heard the disappointment in her voice. She obviously liked the man and enjoyed his flirting. Too much, by Faith’s measure. Iris had promised to behave herself, but that promise had flown on the wind the minute Patrick Lyons had come knocking.

  Faith waited for someone to speak to her, but the odd silence made her lift her head. Both Iris and Patrick were gone.

  Ridiculously curious, she went to the door. To her shock, a wagon stacked five feet high with lumber was being backed toward the house by a team of the biggest horses she’d ever seen. When the driver stopped the wagon near the door, she ducked back inside.

  Patrick came in carrying an armload of planks, followed by Iris, who was swinging her hips like she used to do at the brothel.

  “Afternoon, ma’am,” Patrick said with a nod at Faith. “Mind if I use this empty corner?”

  “I’m Mrs. Wilkins, and I didn’t order lumber,” Faith said.

  “Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Wilkins, but Sheriff Grayson said to deliver it here.”

  “You know the sheriff?”

  “He and his brothers are my best friends.” Patrick nodded to the corner. “Mind if I put this down before I strain something important?”

  Iris laughed. “Go ahead. That corner has been lacking something from the day we moved in.”

  He gave her a crooked grin. “I like you, Iris Wilde with an ‘e’.”

  “Likewise, Mr. Lyons.” She gave him a flirtatious smile that made Faith’s heart hammer with fear. What on earth was Iris thinking? Flirting with a stranger, especially a man who knew the sheriff, was appallingly inappropriate.

  Another similarly dressed man carried in an armload of fresh-smelling wood. He stood three inches shorter than Patrick, who Faith estimated at nearly six feet, and was lean with sinewy forearms and a weathered face that suggested he was at least forty.

  “This is Cyrus Darling,” Patrick said, pausing to introduce him to Faith and Iris.

  The man set down the wood then tipped his cap to greet them.

  “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Darling,” Faith said.

  Iris gave a pleasant nod, but a smile broke across her red lips and she winked at Faith. “I can just hear Tansy greeting Mr. Daaahlin’.”

  “Hell of a name for a man to be stuck with,” Cyrus said, “but I’ve owned it for forty-five years and suppose I can survive a few more years of taunts and grins.” The man radiated kindness and a quiet serenity that told Faith he was not only comfortable being alone, he preferred it.

  “Why, Mista Daaahlin’ sounds like a perfectly handy name to me,” Iris said, mimicking Tansy’s southern drawl, and horrifying Faith. “Cyrus, dahlin’, thank you for carrying in that wood. If I were your wife, dahlin’, I’d tell you to forget the wood and give me some sugar.”

  Pat’s hoot, and Cyrus’s chuckle, interrupted Iris’s performance, but Faith stewed. Her aunt had promised to act like a lady, but here she was flirting like a prostitute with not one but two men!

  “Thank you, Miss Wilde,” Cyrus said. “That sweet southern touch makes it a handy name indeed. Guess I need a southern gal who can appreciate it.”

  “Then you must meet Tansy.” Iris headed for the door, but turned back, her dark eyes lit with mischief. “Mr. Darling, do you sing by chance?”

  Patrick’s laughter boomed through the building, and he clapped a hand on Cyrus’s shoulder. “I’d be careful how you answer that, Cyrus. That’s one of those tricky female questions that can trip a man right into marriage.”

  “I’ve avoided marriage this many years, I don’t see how my worst vice could hook me into it.”

  Iris clasped her hands together in front of her chest. “Mista Dahlin’, if singing is your worst vice, Tansy is going to adore you.” With a laugh, she ducked outside leaving Faith with two strangers and a fury she could barely control.

  o0o

  “Faith isn’t going to like this,” Adam said, holding a stud in place while Duke nailed it into the wall.

  “I don’t suppose she will.” Duke had meant to stop and tell Faith his plan after the lumber was delivered and it was too late for her to argue with him. But he’d gotten tied up with Henry Oakley, a local farmer who’d been swindled by a wily salesman who’d asked him to sign a receipt for his employer. The receipt was rigged so that Henry’s signature appeared on the bottom page, which happened to be a note for a hundred dollars—enough to buy a team of horses, a house, and feed a family for years.

  Adam moved his hands lower on the stud so Duke could continue nailing it into the wall. “She won’t like all these people in here seeing how we live. You saw how upset she was when Aunt Iris asked you to stay for supper last night.”

  He’d noticed all right. She’d been near tears until Adam teased Cora about the bear climbing in her window. Faith would be furious to find him in her house putting up walls. He couldn’t imagine what she would do when she found him here with his brothers and some of their mill hands.

  “Any idea how I can keep myself out of hot water?”

  “She’ll just singe your ears some. If she’s really upset, she’ll act disappointed and start crying. That’s the worst.”

  “I think I’d rather get my ears singed,” Duke said.

  “Me too.”

  “Looks like we’re both in hot water then.” And he’d best take care of his business with Adam before Faith came in from the greenhouse. “She knows about your scuffle at school last week.”

  Shock flashed in Adam’s eyes, but he didn’t try to defend himself.

  “I talked to Rebecca, and she told me what happened. Sometimes trouble finds us even when we’re minding our own business.”

  “Melissa ARCHER is a troublemaker,” Adam said, his voice squawking.

  So was her father Wayne, but Duke kept the information to himself. “Rebecca says you walk her to school and back, but you don’t attend. Where have you been going each day while your sister thinks you’re in school?”

  Adam cast a nervous glance at Radford who was working close by. “To the gorge.”

  Duke drove the last nail home and reached for another stud. “So you’ve been lying each day about going to school, dawdling in the gorge while your sister does your work in the greenhouse.”

  “I can’t go back or I’ll end up in a real fight,” he said, defending his actions. “Nicholas doesn’t like it that I’m friends with Rebecca.”

  Duke set his hammer down. “I don’t like it that my niece is friends with a boy who would lie to his own sister.”

  Adam’s face drained of color, and Duke knew he’d gotten the boy’s attention. He disliked being harsh, but Faith’s brother needed to develop his character to a higher standard.

  “You’re a smart boy, Adam. You could teach Rebecca all kinds of useful things from those books you read. Rebecca is a good, honest girl, and she’s been raised to speak only the truth and to accept the consequences. I wouldn’t want you to influence her to start lying.”

  “I’d never do that.”

  “Rebecca admires you, and she may think it’s all right for her to stretch the truth like you’ve been doing.”

  Adam’s cheeks flamed and, near tears, he faced the wall.

  Duke put his hand on Adam’s shoulder, sorry to embarrass the boy, but knowing he’d done the right thing. “E
veryone deserves a chance to prove himself, Adam. Since this is the last week of school, I want you to stay home and help your sister when you’re not working at the store.”

  “Yes, sir,” the boy said, his youthful jaw clenched.

  “You owe her an apology.”

  “I know.”

  “All right then. I’m trusting you to be a good friend to Rebecca.”

  The boy shot a worried look at Radford, who’d moved to work on the opposite side of the room. “Did Rebecca get in trouble because of me?”

  “Her father wasn’t pleased, but he didn’t punish her for trying to right a wrong.” Duke made a big show of squaring up the stud to let Adam know the lecture was over. Then he said, “Steady this while I drive in this first nail.”

  o0o

  Faith was the last one to leave the greenhouse for the evening. The place had been teeming with customers when she sought Iris earlier, so her aunt had avoided her thus far. But their workday was over, and Faith was going to have a talk with her aunt.

  Outside, she massaged her lower back and gazed with longing at the Colburn house across the street. How lovely it would be to sit in a real parlor on a sofa instead of planks and barrels.

  The staccato sound of hammers whacking wood echoed through the neighborhood as she walked to the barren building she was living in. She’d heard the muted sound from inside the greenhouse, but didn’t realize until reaching her front door that the banging was coming from her own house. Startled, she opened the door and stared in shock.

  Eight men carrying hammers, saws, and nails swarmed like carpenter ants from the front door to the back, framing up walls as fast as they could measure and saw the boards. Adam worked with Duke. Iris and Tansy flitted around like butterflies, pouring and serving beverages to the men. Cora, in a green pinafore, helped.

  Duke shouldn’t have sent the lumber so soon. She hadn’t earned it yet. He’d never mentioned bringing his family and crew to work on her house, or even his intention of doing so. If he had, she would have told him no. She could never pay for this. And she hated for these people to see her family camped out in a vacant building like a band of gypsies.

  If Iris had instigated this, Faith would strangle her. She waved from the doorway, wanting a word with her outrageous aunt, but Iris was too busy flirting with Patrick to notice.

  “Faith!” Evelyn Grayson beckoned her to the kitchen corner where she and Amelia were working at Faith’s makeshift counter. “I’m afraid we’ve taken over your kitchen, and borrowed some plates from that crate,” Evelyn said cheerfully

  Heaping plates of food covered Faith’s plank counters. Had they known she couldn’t feed these men? That she couldn’t offer anything but cold glasses of water? Were they here to make sure their husbands didn’t go without supper?

  Faith looked at her dented metal dishpans and the mountain of pots and plates stacked in crates on the floor, and her face burned. She forced herself to face the ladies. “How kind of you to bring supper.” Several plates were laden with quartered potatoes that looked as if they’d been cooked in the same pot as the thick slabs of roast pork. The aroma made Faith’s mouth water. “I’m afraid I have nothing to contribute. I can’t even offer you ladies a chair, because I don’t have one.” Aster and Dahlia had moved the table aside, and tucked the barrels and planks underneath to keep them out of the way. Now they were piling their pallets and blankets on top of the table in an embarrassing heap.

  “Well, you just moved to town.” Evelyn placed fat, cooked carrots on the plates. “It makes perfect sense that you dedicated your time and efforts to your business first. I don’t know of a place that can compare to your Evergreen House.”

  Her greenhouse was special, with its hearty plants and unique herbs, and the pleasure of her bathhouse was unmatched by any business in the area, but that didn’t lessen Faith’s embarrassment over her makeshift furnishings.

  “Everyone has raved about the bath,” Amelia said with a warm smile. “My mother-in-law and I are hoping to schedule a visit later this week, and I honestly can’t wait.”

  “That will give me an opportunity to repay you for bringing all this lovely food,” Faith replied.

  “Absolutely not!” Amelia and Evelyn said in unison. Evelyn pushed a plate into Faith’s hands. “Neighbors help each other. Now eat. You look tired and hungry. I’ll tell the men to stop for supper.”

  She left Faith standing with Amelia, whose eyes were filled with compassion. “I used to teach in Laona several years ago,” she said. “My stipend was so scant it took me three months to afford fabric for a dress. I lived in a tiny room attached to the schoolhouse, and my worldly possessions consisted of a dry sink, a too-small stove, one rickety table, and an old bed. There’s no reason for you to feel ashamed of this building, Faith. It may be empty of furnishings at the moment, but it will make a fine home.”

  Faith lowered her lashes to hide the tears in her eyes. She cursed her weakness, but she was tired and overwhelmed by the warm welcome from the Graysons. “Thank you,” she whispered, hoping Amelia heard her appreciation through the banging hammers.

  Amelia patted her shoulder. “I’ll take a plate to your daughter. Maybe she can convince this little one inside of me to be a girl. I’m due in December with my third child,” she said, rubbing her flat stomach. “Marshall is six, and Lucas is three. Kyle and I adore our sons, but I’m feeling outnumbered and would love to have girl.”

  Amelia’s confession warmed Faith. “I’ll pray that December brings you an easy delivery and a healthy girl,” she said.

  “Thank you, and please add a prayer that my morning sickness ends soon.”

  Faith laughed. “Ginger might help. You may still get sick, but it will settle your stomach. I’ll give you some roots before you leave,” she said, relieved she could offer something in return. “Simmer three or four thin slices of the root in a pint of water for about twenty minutes, then sip it a little at a time throughout the day.”

  “I’ll have Kyle purchase some from you before we leave.”

  “Absolutely not,” Faith argued. “I’ll give you the roots.”

  “Thank you.” Amelia squeezed Faith’s hand, and her warm acceptance allowed Faith a necessary measure of pride.

  When Amelia walked away, Faith picked up a plate of food and leaned against the wall to eat before she fainted from hunger. Across the room, Cora’s face beamed with importance as she toted a full water glass to Duke’s brother Boyd, who knelt on one knee and pressed his hand to his heart, looking like a prince as he accepted Cora’s gift. He was playing with the child, flirting with her, his smile so charming Faith would have swooned if he’d directed it at her.

  But Cora blabbed and picked sawdust off his shirt as if he were her pet dog.

  Boyd shrugged at his brothers as if to say he’d lost his touch. Kyle’s laughter boomed through the building, and his teeth flashed in the light of several lanterns. He was handsome like Duke. And clearly in love with his wife. He slipped his arm around Amelia and placed his palm over her belly as if assuring himself his lady and baby were all right. The gesture was tender and intimate and so loving, Faith wondered if anyone else noticed it.

  Evelyn and Radford had, and it seemed to please them. They also exchanged a heated look of love and desire, and it could have broiled the roast pork Evelyn was offering her husband.

  Yes, these Grayson men were handsome, lusty creatures. They were cut from the same block of stone. Of course, the Creator had used a finer tool to chisel Evelyn’s husband Radford and his brother Boyd. These two were slimmer in build, with finer features—not more handsome than Duke or Kyle, just more polished. Duke and his brother Kyle were rough-cut, with wider, muscular builds, and slightly rugged features that lent Duke a dangerous edge to his scowl and a heart-stopping intensity when his eyes locked on hers.

  Like when he’d kissed her in the bathhouse.

  Like now, when he stood across an entire room and caressed her with his gaze.

&nbs
p; He wore denim pants and a green cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up his thick forearms. A hammer hung from his hip instead of a gun, but she felt power and danger radiating from him nonetheless. He started toward her.

  The plank floorboards vibrated beneath the heavy tread of his boots as he crossed the room, and she could barely swallow the piece of pork she’d been chewing. She tried to calm herself and clear the desire that was clouding her thinking. She wanted this man, not just the security he could give her; she’d known for certain when he’d given her that playful wink while they were in the bathhouse. He was a good man, a kind and generous man to bring the lumber and put up her walls for her. But regardless of their heated kissing match in the bathhouse, or the seductive promise in his eyes as he strode toward her on those long, powerful legs, she was going to take him to task for doing all this without consulting her.

  He stopped in front of her and dipped his mouth to her ear. “I missed you today,” he said, then boldly nibbled her earlobe with his warm lips.

  She melted like grease on a griddle; hot in the center, sizzling on the edges.

  He lifted his head and smiled with his eyes. “I suppose you’re going to flay me for this?”

  “To pieces,” she said, “just as soon as I get my breath back.”

  His chuckle was so intimate, so unforgivably seductive, she couldn’t decide whether to kick him or lean into his hot, hard body and be consumed by his fire.

  Chapter 17

  The hours and days spun by too fast for Faith to find time to really sit down and talk to Iris. She woke before dawn, worked until dusk in the greenhouse, then spent the evenings feeding Duke’s family and crew.

  Duke played seductive games with her while he and the men worked on her house. The Grayson women brought food and a neighborly friendship Faith had never known. The ladies society delivered curtains, and one woman donated parlor furniture she was replacing. Another woman donated paint and rolls of wallpaper from her husband’s store. Several women had received complimentary massages from Faith and her aunts, and were happy to contribute what they could to make Faith’s house a home.