Honor's Promise

by Sharon Sala

  Trace couldn’t answer. Her honesty and self-confidence were overwhelming. No matter what else Charlotte O’Brien had done, she’d done a remarkable job raising the woman sitting beside him.

  The rest of the trip was completed in silence. When they turned into a long, tree-lined driveway, Honor didn’t even flinch. She just took a deep breath and began gathering her belongings.

  * * *

  Honor watched the cab disappear down the winding driveway, then turned for a longer, more in-depth look at the understated elegance of the two-story home. It looked as if it should be sitting in an English countryside instead of perched on the side of a Colorado mountain. She smoothed down the skirt of her russet-colored suit and straightened the collar of the cream silk blouse. She caught Trace watching her with an apprehensive look. She felt obligated to assure him she wasn’t going to cause a scene.

  “It’s going to be okay, Trace,” Honor said sarcastically. “I won’t embarrass you, or myself. Didn’t your preliminary observation of me tell you anything?”

  Her words stung. He knew she was still angry about his deception. He spoke before he thought. “You know damn good and well why I didn’t say anything at first. What could I say? The first time we met, you wound up in my arms, crying on my shoulder. Just when did you expect me to throw my little news your way? Right before, or just after, I watched your heart break?’

  Her face blanched. She tilted her head back in defiance as her cheeks registered the truth of his statement.

  Trace resisted the urge to apologize. She had to see this from his point of view, too.

  Honor knew that a lot of what Trace said was true. But it still rankled that she’d let him get so close, so fast. It wasn’t like her to be, for a lack of a better word, so loose.

  She glared at Trace, saw his chin set in stubborn silence, reached in front of him, and defiantly rang the doorbell. It put an abrupt end to their doorstep feud.

  “Oh, my! Lord have mercy!” Trudy Sinclair gasped, as she opened the door.

  She couldn’t quit staring at the pair on the doorstep. The young woman was a walking image of the portrait hanging in the Malone library. She’d known for two days now about the long-lost granddaughter’s imminent arrival, but she hadn’t been prepared for this.

  “I know it’s a shock, Trudy. But all the same, I think we better come inside,” Trace said, and took control of the situation.

  He put his hands on the little woman’s shoulders, and gently moved her out of the doorway. Then he pulled Honor and her luggage into the hallway and closed the door.

  “Oh, my!” Trudy repeated in shock.

  “Trudy, this is Honor O’Brien,” Trace said. He turned to Honor. “This place would come to a complete halt without Trudy.”

  Honor smiled at the housekeeper and held out her hand. She might be furious with Trace Logan and his deceit. But she saw no reason to include this sprightly little woman in the web of intrigue that her mother’s letter had caused.

  Trudy looked blankly at the offered greeting and then back at Trace. She couldn’t remember anyone in the Malone family ever wanting to shake her hand.

  Trace nodded slightly, the twinkle in his eyes assuring the housekeeper of the propriety of the gesture.

  Trudy puffed her tiny self up to full stature and reached out.

  “I’m pleased to meet you,” Honor said softly.

  “It’s my pleasure, miss,” Trudy answered.

  “Please call me Honor. Where I come from, the only woman still referred to as ‘miss’ is Callie Walker. She’s eighty-eight and never been married.”

  Trace threw back his head and laughed. He couldn’t help himself. Trudy grinned, and then caught herself. She wasn’t tending to her duties. Her duties were very important.

  “Mr. Malone is in the library, as usual,” Trudy said, pointing down the hallway. “You know the way.”

  She grabbed Honor’s bags and called back over her shoulder as she started down the hall. “Let me know when you’ve finished your visit. Then I’ll show you where your rooms are. Mr. Malone’s quite excited about your arrival, Miss…I mean, Honor,” Trudy corrected. “And, it’s quite wonderful that you’ve been found. It’s a miracle. That’s what it is, it’s a miracle.”

  She bustled away, pulling Honor’s wheeled luggage behind her like a canvas pup.

  “Come on, lady,” Trace said. “You’ve just charmed the iron dragon. Meeting your grandfather is next on the list.”

  Honor looked away from Trace and refused to answer his smile. She didn’t want to like him. She was still mad, wasn’t she? And she was more apprehensive than she’d let on. No matter what she told herself, this meeting was going to change her life. And therein lay the problem. She’d liked her life just the way it was.

  Trace read the worry on her face and wished with all his soul that he could take away the uncertainties and fears that had to be making her crazy. He couldn’t imagine being dealt such a blow.

  His hand slid up her back. Honor’s resistance to his touch was instantaneous. Her shoulders stiffened, her gait quickened. It was all he could do to ignore the frown that marred her features as he guided her down the hall toward the library. Everything in him yearned to grab her and run, to do anything it took to soothe away the tension he felt in the muscles beneath his fingertips. But it wasn’t feasible, nor possible. Right now Honor O’Brien didn’t even consider him worthy enough to argue with.

  “Come on, honey,” he coaxed. “It won’t be as bad as you think. I promise. I’m right here with you, all the way.”

  “And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” Honor asked sarcastically. “Just what kind of loyalty am I supposed to believe you hold for me? I can’t imagine that you assume I’ve forgotten the lies and deceit you used to get close to me.”

  “That’s not true, Honor, and you know it,” Trace said under his breath.

  But they were too close to the library now to begin another argument. He took a deep breath, swallowed the words he wanted to shout in defense of himself, and ushered Honor into the room.

  “J. J.!” Trace called.

  A tall, white-haired man stared transfixed, lost in the dancing flames of the fireplace before which he stood.

  J. J. Malone spun about, startled at the sound of voices. He’d been lost in thought and memories. His crutches had been replaced by a cane to ease the pressure of his slowly healing leg. But the sight of the pair in the doorway sent the cane falling limply from his hand. It clattered against the floor and landed at his feet. The tall young woman standing beside Trace Logan made him forget to breathe. Sounds muted and fell away as J. J. watched the reincarnation of his beloved Meggie looking at him from across the room.

  The trio stood in uneasy silence, each uncertain how to break the tension of the moment when the portrait over the fireplace directly behind the old gentleman caught Honor’s attention. Her gasp of recognition echoed loudly in the quiet. All eyes were instantly drawn to the shock on the girl’s face.

  She moved on instinct, drawn in spite of herself to the woman’s image on the lacquered canvas.

  J. J. watched her coming toward him, and resisted the urge to wrap her in his arms. She was here on sufferance. He knew that much. Trace had warned him over and over that she wasn’t happy to discover this hidden part of her life. But he couldn’t deny the surge of emotion that welled inside him, overwhelming in its intensity. Nor could he deny the tears that burned behind his eyelids.

  “I kept telling myself all along that this was going to turn out to be a mistake,” Honor whispered to herself, but both men heard her words. “I didn’t know how, but I kept telling myself it would all work out. Now, I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

  She turned and looked around the room, desperation obvious in the torment of her face. There had to be an answer to this nightmare, or at least, an avenue of escape! But there was nothing except the look of pity on Trace Logan’s face. Damn him! Damn them all, she thought. I don’t want pity.
I want to go home!

  Trace caught the terror in her gaze and started forward when her grandfather pointed toward the portrait and spoke, his voice shaking with suppressed emotion.

  “That’s my Meggie,” he said gruffly, and gently allowed himself a lingering touch on Honor’s arm as he turned her back to face the portrait. “She was your grandmother. You were named for her. I had no idea you would look so…” His voice broke. “I’m sorry. Old men get sentimental.”

  Honor suddenly realized that she wasn’t the only one going through a traumatic ordeal. She turned and stared. The tall, elderly man stood before her, unashamed of the tears pouring freely down his weathered cheeks. Her heart was too gentle to include him in the anger. If her mother’s letter was to be believed, she and the man were both innocent victims.

  “Maybe now is the time for tears,” Honor said quietly. She reached out and captured J. J.’s hand. “I think it’s also the time for introductions. I’m Honor, sir. And, I’m glad to be here…I think.” Her voice broke as she took a deep, shaky breath. “Thank you for having me. I know this time is going to be awkward. I could have stayed in a hotel.”

  J. J.’s voice regained its usual power as he interrupted. “You’ll do no such thing, girl. There’s no one in this house anymore except me and Sinless Sinclair. I’m tired of fending off her sneak attacks concerning my health and behavior. I’m old enough to take care of myself. And,” he continued, “I’m not ‘sir.’ I don’t suppose you’ll be able to call me Grandfather just yet but I think we can both live with J. J. Don’t you?”

  Honor grinned in spite of the momentous occasion. The nickname he used in reference to the housekeeper struck her as funny. “I found Trudy to be quite charming,” Honor said. “And I think I can manage to call you J. J.”

  J. J. sniffed and cleared his throat as he watched her dimple come and go. It unnerved him to no end. She was so like his beloved wife, it gave him chills. “Yes, well,” he mumbled. “She’s still a busybody.”

  Trace came up behind Honor and casually slid his hand up the middle of her back. He leaned forward to speak.

  Honor shivered as his breath caressed the side of her face.

  “I think you two need some time alone,” Trace said. “I’ve done what I promised. I brought her back. Now, the rest is up to the both of you. Your granddaughter is more like you than you can imagine. It’ll take me into the next lifetime to make her forgive me. Do what you can to make me look good, J. J. I don’t want this lady mad at me any longer, okay?”

  Honor was furious with the way Trace kept touching her. The stroke of his hand as it slid upward, coming to rest just below her hairline, brought back memories of a happier time. And yet, even as she wanted to scream at him in anger, she yearned to turn in his arms and bury her face against his strength. She needed to feel the sound, steady rhythm of his heart beneath her cheek and close out this nightmare into which she’d been thrust.

  Trace moved away.

  Honor panicked.

  He was the only link she had between her old world and the new. Her look of despair was evident.

  Both men instantly sensed what was going through her mind.

  “You’ll be just fine, Honor,” Trace said quietly, reading the troubled depths in the stormy gray of her eyes. “I’ll be back for dinner later tonight. Wait and see what happens, remember?”

  Honor’s heart raced as his hand slid down her back, lingering on the curve of her hip before he reluctantly stepped away. She bit her lip, and hoped she wasn’t blushing. Damn this man, he’s making me crazy!

  Honor knew his reminder to “wait and see” was an echo of her own declaration. She took a deep breath, intent on regaining some measure of control. What’s the matter with me? I don’t like Trace Logan. I don’t even trust him! But if she didn’t like him, why was she acting like she couldn’t function without him? She needed her head examined for more reasons than one.

  “Of course, I’ll be fine,” she said. “What makes you think I won’t? I’m a big girl. I don’t need you to hold my hand.”

  She glared at Trace for mentioning their differences in front of J. J. She didn’t need anyone running interference for her, either. She was plenty capable of sorting out her own thoughts regarding Trace Logan.

  J. J. watched the interchange between the man he loved like a son and the granddaughter who’d just been restored to him. An idea took seed.

  He hadn’t become successful simply by accident. J. J. Malone was the champion when it came to subtle persuasion. More than once he’d encountered a reluctant competitor down on his luck and anxious to sell his business to anyone other than J. J. Malone. Before he’d finished the meeting, the man had been practically begging Malone to buy him out. He was a master at the game. Surely he could manage one man and one woman, when he’d held the fate of entire companies in his grasp.

  “Certainly you’ll be back for dinner,” J. J. said loudly. “I’ll tell Trudy myself. She always fixes real food when there’s company for dinner. None of that tasteless garbage she feeds me when I’m alone.”

  He leaned over and picked up his cane, then hobbled out of the room, calling back over his shoulder as he left. “I’ll be right back. Then we’ll visit, girl. Then we’ll visit. We’ve a whole lifetime to catch up on.”

  Honor watched his exit and then turned away, unwilling for Trace to see her uneasiness.

  But Trace wouldn’t let her pull away from him anymore. She was as far away as he could live with now. Something about this woman had taken hold of his every waking thought and his sleepless nights. He clasped her by the arms, turned her back to face him, and tilted her chin until their eyes met.

  “Trust me, Honor,” he pleaded. “Let yourself get to know this man. He’s a fine old fellow. Honest as the day is long, and tough as your Texas boots. I think you’ll like him. You’re very much alike.”

  She nodded silently, refusing to speak. But not because she was mad. At the moment, it was because she was afraid she might cry.

  Trace leaned down and gently brushed his lips across the softness of her mouth. He couldn’t help himself. And he wouldn’t have stopped himself if he could. He’d been wanting to do that all day.

  Honor’s mouth opened to protest, but it was too late. He’d already committed the deed.

  Trace sighed as her lips softened and responded to the pressure of his touch. But he couldn’t allow this to go any further, not now. Honor was too vulnerable. He didn’t want her forgiveness out of panic and a feeling of need. He wanted her to come to him because she knew she couldn’t face another day without him. That’s the way he wanted to spend the rest of his life. He wanted to live long and happily, but not without Honor. It was unthinkable. He reluctantly released her and gave her a comforting, brotherly hug before he turned to leave the room.

  “I’ll see you later, honey,” he said softly. And then he was gone.

  It was several moments before Honor realized he’d called her “honey” again. It was even later before she realized she wasn’t supposed to like it. Damn him anyway. It was hard to stay mad at a snake when it kept acting so decent. She turned her attention to the tapping cane and the footsteps she heard coming down the tiled hallway. It was time to deal with the issues at hand. And that meant letting herself accept the fact that this man coming back into the room with a beaming smile on his face was actually her grandfather.

  * * *

  Honor stood before the mirror in her room, putting the finishing touches on her hair and makeup. She couldn’t remember when she’d spent this much time just getting ready to eat a meal.

  Her visit with J. J. had gone much better than either could have hoped. She’d listened obediently to all of his stories, some of them rambling but all pertaining directly to portions of her life that she knew she must accept. She’d watched the sadness come and go as he detailed her disappearance, listened to his assurances of how long and hard they’d searched for clues that might lead to her recovery. But, he’d claimed sa
dly, they’d all led nowhere. Charlotte O’Brien had left no clues.

  Honor listened, hardening her heart against speaking out in favor of her mother’s actions. Now was not the time to defend what had taken place. She wasn’t even sure that it was fair to try. But if things kept going favorably, before she left she wanted him to read her mother’s journal. Maybe it would help. Maybe it would help them both.

  She listened quietly, asking few questions, as J. J. then listed the events following her abduction that he felt ultimately resulted in his “Meggie’s” death. Trace had already informed her that her natural parents were dead. But she had some curiosity concerning the aunt and uncle she’d yet to meet. She’d been assured that they would be present at the dinner tonight, and then the celebration would begin. The entire remaining Malone family would, once again, be complete.

  It was all J. J. could do to allow Honor to leave him. He could not get enough of just looking at her. Finally, her pallor and the dark circles under her eyes made him realize what a strain the past few days had been for her. Reluctantly, he’d summoned the housekeeper, who’d eagerly taken her on a quick tour of the house before showing her to her suite of rooms.

  Honor had been taken aback at the size of the home and the lack of staff in residence. She knew from experience that it took a lot of work to keep a home this size, but Trudy was the only staff member who lived on the premises. She’d prattled on about her duties until even Honor could tell the importance with which Trudy Sinclair regarded her responsibilities.

  She sighed with relief as she came to her room, entered, and collapsed on the bed. The furnishings were so similar to those in her own home that the strangeness of her surroundings diminished. For the time being, Honor could regain some of the mental ground that she’d lost.

  The events she was experiencing were so painful, and beyond the realm of her understanding. Emotionally, each passing moment became harder to face. Here, in the city where she was born, with the family who’d suffered, she had to come to terms with the fact she’d been stolen, that the woman she’d known and loved as “mother” had actually taken her away from a loving family, leaving them with nothing but grief.