Safe Havens Bundle

by Sandy James

  She sighed. “I know.”

  “You know?” His head tilted, a smug grin on his lips. “Hard to believe you’ve been around a lot of womenfolk on all those long drives. How did you learn about morning sickness?”

  Don’t panic.

  “Emily told me.” Grace feigned indifference with a flip of her hand. “She… um… mentioned most women get queasy for the first couple of months.”

  She hated when he just continued to stare at her, so she turned the topic. “How do you feel about being a father again?”

  At least the question pulled a true smile from his handsome face. “Can’t lie and say it wasn’t a surprise. At my age, I sure hadn’t expected to be welcoming a new baby. Figured Victoria might make me a grandpa in a few years, ’specially after she met Matthew.”

  “I wish they’d stop and think about what they could share.”

  Matthew deserved some happiness, and Victoria Morgan made him happy, no matter how hard her brother tried to hide his feelings.

  Adam gave Grace’s hand a squeeze. “How do you feel about being a mother, Mrs. Morgan?”

  With the appearance of Stephen Shay and the birth of Emily and Jake’s baby, she’d barely had time to think. “I’m going to be a mother. Oh, Adam… We’re having a child.”

  A baby.

  Adam’s baby.

  A miracle, that.

  She could raise her child, watch him change and grow into being a man. This baby might be a salve to ease the heartache over the things she’d missed in Jake’s life. She could nurse this child at her own breast. She could tuck him in at night. She could rock him to sleep.

  Oh, yes, this child is a miracle.

  Adam’s laugh was warm, reaching deep down and squeezing her heart. He lifted a gentle hand over to wipe away a tear slipping down her cheek. “You’re going to be a mother. A damned good one, I’m sure.”

  Dear Lord, she loved him. How could she survive if she ever lost him?

  She clasped his hand against her face and closed her eyes. “I love you, Adam.”

  “I love you too, darlin’.”

  They pulled up in front of the Four Aces, and he helped her down from the wagon. Her gaze searched everywhere for Stephen, and she literally breathed a sigh of relief. For now, he’d truly left White Pines. Perhaps knowing she’d married had ended his unholy fascination with her, and Victoria didn’t need a man hounding her.

  Maybe this time, he’d stay away for good.

  God, please let it be so.

  Adam led her into the saloon, holding the door open for her.

  Will’s smiling face greeted them. “Good to see ya. Here to check on the new mama?”

  “Of course,” Grace replied. “Did she have a good night?”

  “Slept like the dead when she weren’t nursin’ the little one. Jake’s been pacing the floor all night. Think he’s afraid to put the child down. One peep, and he sets to fussing over her.”

  “She’s gonna be almost as spoiled as Emily was,” Adam added.

  “Pert near already is.” Will gave them enormous grin.

  “Is Victoria still here?” Adam scanned the room. “Haven’t seen her this morning.”

  “Headed out to the livery not too long ago,” Will replied. “Must’ve just missed her. She was going to the ranch. Said Emily was doin’ fine. Promised to be back after she got some sleep and a bath. Said somethin’ about a good, long soak.”

  “She sure loves that bathtub. Well worth its price.”

  Jake came striding down the upstairs hall and stopped at the top of the stairs. “Will y’all keep it down? The baby’s sleeping.”

  The infant’s wails reached downstairs.

  The glare Jake threw them was hotter than a bonfire. “Now look what you gone and did!” His stomps echoed behind him as he whirled to leave.

  “Yep,” Will said. “That’s one spoiled li’l girl.”

  Adam pressed his hand to the small of Grace’s back. “Let’s go see if we can help.”

  The infant’s squalls had petered out by the time she knocked softly on the partially open door. “May we come in?”

  “Grace! You’re back,” Emily called. “Come in. Come in.”

  The new mother was radiant, sitting up in bed and watching Jake fuss over the baby.

  “Have you had something to eat?” Grace asked.

  “Daddy made me some eggs.” She nibbled on her lower lip. “They weren’t very good.”

  “Well, then. I’ll just go down to the kitchen and whip you up something special. What do you have a taste for?”

  “Anything,” she replied, then lowered her voice. “So long as Daddy doesn’t cook it.”

  “I’ll see what’s in the pantry.”

  Grace moved to Jake’s side to see the baby.

  Her pink face seemed serene as she stared back, and Grace felt a pinch in her heart. This was her granddaughter—a part of her.

  She said something to keep from blubbering. “Hard to tell who she’ll look like. Babies change so fast. Her eyes may be dark blue now, but they might soon be as brown as Jake’s.”

  Funny, but the smile Adam threw her seemed a bit too perceptive. “You’re right, darlin’. Victoria’s were dark blue too—except hers lightened instead of darkened.”

  Jake passed the baby to Grace’s waiting arms.

  The little girl smelled so sweet, it brought fresh tears to Grace’s eyes. “Hi, honey. Remember me?”

  “That’s your Aunt Grace.” Jake smoothed his big, calloused hands ever so softly over the dark curls crowning the infant’s head.

  Adam came to stand behind Grace, looking over her shoulder at the baby. “Mighty fine job, Emily. What are you gonna call her?”

  “Elizabeth Ann,” Emily replied. “Daddy and Jake have called her Beth so many times, I guess that’s what everyone will know her as.”

  Grace pressed a kiss to Beth’s forehead. “It doesn’t matter what you’re called, does it, sweetheart. You’re just too beautiful for words.”

  Adam’s hand was suddenly on her shoulder. He gave her an affectionate squeeze. “Soon, you’ll be holding one of your own in your arms.”

  “Grace!” Emily exclaimed. “You’re gonna have a baby?”

  Grace’s face grew warm as she nodded.

  Jake slapped Adam on the back so hard he bumped into Grace. “Why you old son-of-a-gun. I thought you’d be too old to—”

  “If you want to keep your teeth,” Adam warned, “you best guard the next words coming out of your mouth, son.”

  When Jake laughed, he sounded like Matthew.

  Satisfaction swept through Grace. Jake was a happy man, and she thanked God for that blessing, knowing after all he’d been through he’d survived and come out whole.

  “I almost forgot.” Jake walked over to the bureau and pulled out a drawer. “I’ve got something for Beth.” He rooted around. “Here it is.”

  Striding back over to where them, he said, “This is all I have left from my mama. My real mama. You probably recognize it, don’t you, Grace?” He reached out to pin a small gold heart on the soft blanket. “It belonged to our mama, after all.”

  The air in the room evaporated. Her heart pounded so hard, she was surprised it didn’t simply explode. “Take her.”

  Her words were so breathless, she was grateful Jake could even understand them. He scooped Beth back into his arms. “Are you gonna be sick?”

  Sick? No, not sick.

  Much, much worse.

  She was going to die.

  The world was closing in on her, and all Grace could think of was escape. She turned and tried to grope her way to the door, her breath coming in pants. There wasn’t enough air.

  Not enough air!

  The heart. The damned heart.

  How could she have forgotten? Her fingers clutched the door frame.

  Have to go. Have to run.

  The heart! The memories!

  Adam grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. The c
olor had drained from her face, and she wheezed as hard as she had when she’d been ill. He’d never seen someone so frightened.

  “Don’t go fainting on me again.” He pried her hand away from the doorframe and gently chafed the inside of her wrist. “C’mon, Gracie. Don’t faint.”

  “I have to go! I can’t…I–I have to go!” She jerked her hand out of his grasp and hurried out the door.

  He caught her at the landing, where she teetered on the edge of the top step. Had he not clutched her hand, she would have tumbled right down the stairs.

  When he tried to pull her into his arms, she fought and twisted like a cornered wildcat. “Let me go! I have to go!”

  “Stop! Stop it, Grace!” His wife fought so hard, he was afraid he’d hurt her just by trying to keep her still. If he let her go, she’d surely run.

  But where would she go?

  “Shh…” He held her fast. “Shush, darlin’. Let me help you.”

  She went limp in his arms. Until she started to choke out sobs, he’d thought she’d swooned. The sounds were heartrending.

  Adam picked his wife up and carried her to her old room. Sitting down on the bed, he set her on his lap and cradled her against him as she cried. “Shh. It’s gonna be okay. I’m here. I’ll protect you. Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

  She shook her head then buried her face in his shoulder. “I need to go. Please let me go.”

  He rocked her like a frightened child. “I won’t ever let you go. I love you.”

  “You wouldn’t. Not if you knew. You’d hate me.”

  “I could never hate you.” He kissed the top of her head. “What frightened you? Can you tell me? It can’t be Stephen—”

  The name alone set her to struggling again.

  “Shh. I’m here.”

  It took a few moments for her to finally settle down. The sobs slowly ebbed until she sagged against him.

  “I wanted to die,” she whispered. “I begged to die.”

  “Oh, darlin’. Nothing could be bad enough you should’ve wanted to die.”

  “I did.” A shuddering sigh escaped.

  “Tell me. If you can find the courage to tell me, maybe you can let the fear go. You can tell me anything, Gracie. Anything.”

  “I was barely fourteen…”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  San Francisco, 1860

  It was three months past her fourteenth birthday.

  Grace held up one of the ribbons Mama had given her and admired the color in the mirror. To have a present at all was such a treat, but to have hair ribbons seemed almost as good as her birthdays when she’d been younger—back when they still had the house and enough to eat.

  She chose the pink ribbon, loving how beautiful it looked with her brown hair.

  Mousey brown, Papa always called it.

  But Mama told her how pretty it was, how everyone loved to see the light shine over it, bringing out the bits of red that showed Mama had passed some of her Irish blood to her daughter.

  Grace’s hair had never been cut. Mama helped her comb and braid it every day and told her how her long hair made her special. Not many girls had a braid that hung to her waist.

  Just holding the ribbon made her feel closer to Mama. Her birthday had been Mama’s last good day—the last time she’d been able to sit up and spend some time with her children.

  Matthew had snuggled up to Mama’s side, but he was only seven. Grace was a grown-up fourteen. She couldn’t cuddle against Mama as if she were a baby anymore—no matter how desperately she wanted to wrap herself around her mother. She had to be strong for Mama and for Matthew.

  Mama had died in her arms.

  The doctor came that morning and told Papa there was nothing he could do—that it was in God’s hands. Papa had left, probably to find another card game so he could forget the bad things. That’s what he always said—that the games and the drinking made him forget.

  If only he didn’t spend all their money forgetting, there might have been food to put in Matthew’s belly so he wouldn’t cry at night.

  Now it was all up to her. Her brother was her responsibility. She’d find a job, no matter what. She could clean or be a lady’s maid. She could even read and write. Papa said Mama wasted her time teaching her and Matthew, saying that they needed to learn more practical skills. She’d insisted, even working with them when she’d been almost too sick to speak.

  Grace could cook, too. The lady who owned the rooming house taught her. It was fun and the skill seemed to come so easily. She wiped away a tear that always came when she thought about how good things had once been.

  Before Papa started gambling and drinking.

  Before Mama got sick.

  Matthew stuck his head inside the room. “You ready, Grace?”

  She gave her reflection one last check, happy that she could still wear her Sunday dress. It was a little tight, especially across the bodice. She was embarrassed at the changes in her body, and without Mama to talk to, she didn’t know if she should be worried. Mama had explained about her “woman’s time,” but Grace hated it. She hated the pains in her gut, and she worried her “woman’s time” might be something more, something like what took Mama away from them.

  “I’m ready.” She went to the door to take his hand in hers. “You look very handsome.”

  “My britches have patches.”

  “That’s because you enjoy wrestling with the other boys so much. I had to sew them on because you had holes in both knees.”

  The affection behind her words softened the rebuke. Her brother was all she truly had left in the world, and she loved him more than he could ever know. She’d promised Mama she’d watch over Matthew, and Grace always kept her word.

  “Are we really getting to eat in a fancy place, Grace? A real meal? Steak and potatoes?”

  “That’s what Papa said.”

  Papa came in the door whistling. It had been a long time since he’d whistled. Maybe that meant his card game had gone well—that he’d won money for once. He’d stopped by about an hour ago to tell the children to get cleaned up because he had a special treat for them. They were going to the San Francisco Palace.

  The Palace.

  She could hardly believe it. Something kept niggling at her, telling her to look more closely at what was happening. Her father had mentioned a benefactor. Although she knew what the word meant, she had no idea how someone could win a benefactor at a card game.

  Papa hired a hack to take them to the Palace. The carriage was old and smelled like people who didn’t wash much, but it was the first time she’d ridden in one in almost as long as she could remember.

  When the grand hotel appeared in the dirty window, her breath caught in her throat. It was so beautiful. So big. So rich.

  If only Mama could have been there with them.

  Papa took Matthew’s hand and led his children through the front doors. She could only gawk at everything and everyone. She’d never seen so many wealthy people.

  Their clothes were made of silk and fur. Many of the men carried walking sticks with silver and gold handles shaped like eagles and wolves and lions. The women smelled of strong perfume that made Matthew wrinkle his nose whenever a lady passed close by.

  Leading up the winding staircase covered in red carpet, Papa had to tug Matthew to keep him moving. He seemed as enraptured with the wealth around him as she was. Then a lady walked by her, gave her a hard look, and frowned.

  Grace bowed her head. Vanity hit her hard, making her want to disappear. How ugly she and her brother must be in their too small clothes with the mismatched patches when compared to the other children in their crisp, starched dresses and pants. Matthew’s shirt seemed gray as a young boy in a winter white passed them.

  Humiliated and sad, she wished they could leave. People turning their noses up at her stung. She didn’t want a fancy dinner, even if it was steak and potatoes. Nor did she want to meet Papa’s new benefactor. Her stomach hurt and she had to fight
hard against the urge to turn and run.

  Papa stopped at a door and knocked loudly. Then he turned to grin at his children. “Got something special planned for you, Grace.”

  “For me, too, Papa?” Matthew asked.

  Papa said nothing as the door to the suite opened.

  A young man in black suit smiled at Papa. “Back so soon?” He gave Matthew a quick glance before settling his gaze on Grace.

  She’d never seen eyes so dark. A shiver of fear ran the length of her spine. She reached for Matthew’s hand. His fingers squeezed hers, telling her that he was every bit as anxious as she was.

  “You must be Grace.” The man opened the door wide. “Come in. Come in.”

  The suite was opulent. A red velvet settee. Tables made of dark wood. Drapes of heavy gold cloth. Such a beautiful place. If only Mama could’ve seen it. Mama loved nice things—probably because she’d had so few in her life.

  “Grace?” Her father’s voice pulled her back from her sad reverie.

  “Yes, Papa?”

  His eyes met hers, but then he quickly glanced away. “This is Stephen Shay. You’re gonna have dinner with him.”

  Matthew reacted first. “But Papa! You said I’d get to eat too! I’m hungry, Papa. I’m always hungry.”

  “You’ll eat,” Papa replied. “Just you and me, Matty-boy. Down in the dining room.”

  He wasn’t making any sense. They were all eating down in the dining room.

  Weren’t they?

  The dark man—Stephen—strode over to put a hand on her forearm. His smile wasn’t genuine, and Grace would have jerked her arm away if it wasn’t for Papa. This man had some kind of hold on him, making her afraid she’d offend the man if he knew exactly how much she wanted to get away.

  Papa tugged at Matthew’s arm. “It’s time to go.”

  “Papa?” Grace asked, eyes wide. “Can’t I go too?”

  “You’re having supper here with me, my sweet.” Stephen’s voice was deep and rumbling. His eyes raked her from head to toe, and he made her feel as though she were standing there without a stitch of clothing. “We need to get better…acquainted.”

  “Grace is coming too, isn’t she?” Matthew asked, throwing a worried frown at her.