by Sandy James
She snatched up her discarded clothing. “Yes, we are talking about this.”
“Kayla… Let it go.”
With a shake of her head, she grabbed the towels that were scattered over the sofa. “I thought you wanted me. But then you jumped up and ran away.”
Drake tossed the blanket aside and put his hands on his hips. “Don’t you get it?”
“No. I do not get it.”
“You’re a…a… lady.”
The word sounded like a curse. “You’re a gentleman.”
“Hell no, I’m not. I never was and never will be. You deserve better than the likes of me!”
Drake nodded, happy to have finally spit out the words. Kayla needed to know that he wasn’t going to take advantage of her in that way. She’d given him such tender care, helped him through what might’ve been the worst time in his life as he’d dried out from his alcohol haze, and he wouldn’t repay her by stealing her innocence.
Instead of looking relieved, she scowled at him, her eyes filled with unleashed anger. “You have no idea what kind of woman I am!”
“You’re a good woman, Kayla.”
She shook her head, forcing the tears that had spilled over her lashes to stream down her cheeks.
“You are a good woman.”
“A good woman doesn’t get her father murdered!”
Chapter Fifteen
Drake stared at her, not quite sure he’d heard her shouted words correctly.
She shook her head and fled down the hallway, and he pondered her words as he dressed and returned to the sitting room. When she’d finished dressing, she joined him. Then she plopped down hard on the sofa and put her hands to her face.
Reacting to the pain written all over her, he sat next to her and draped an arm around her shoulders. Instead of pulling away as he’d expected, she leaned into him and took a couple of bracing breaths, clearly fighting the need to weep.
“I can’t rightly believe you had a man murdered,” he said, putting as much conviction in his voice as he could. The gentle woman he knew couldn’t possibly have caused someone harm—especially her father. Drake remembered well Kayla telling the story of the man’s abuse of alcohol, yet the love and concern he’d heard in her voice made it plain that she loved him.
“It was my fault,” she insisted, thumping her chest with her fist. “Had I not wanted to marry Gregory…”
Frustrated that she wouldn’t finish the thought, Drake squeezed her closer to him. “Tell me, Kayla. I need to know.”
She leaned back and looked up at him with eyes full of sadness. “I should never have told you anything.” The shrug she gave him was anything but nonchalant considering the way she still trembled. “Why does it even matter now?”
“We’re here all alone,” Drake replied. “I’m responsible for our safety. If someone murdered your father… Well, who’s to say they won’t come for you?”
Her eyes widened. “She could never find me here.”
“Tell me, Kayla. Please.”
She popped to her feet and began to pace as she wrung her hands. “She has no idea where I am. I came here to escape. After what happened to Papa… I had no choice. I couldn’t stay in New York.”
The maddeningly slow pace of her telling the story was stretching his patience beyond endurance. Who was the “she” that kept coming up?
Drake patted the sofa. “Sit down, darlin’.”
She stopped to stare at him. “His death was my fault.”
“I need you to tell me how you came to Montana, then I need you to tell me about your pa and what happened to him. I know you never wanna talk about yourself, but it’s time.”
After a deep, shuddering breath, she sat next to him again, staring at the hands she folded in her lap. Then she nodded.
Drake started with what was bothering him most. “Who is Gregory?”
“I was betrothed to him. There were documents being drawn up ahead of what would’ve been a Christmas wedding.” She let out a scoff. “I would’ve been a bride a few weeks from now.”
He kept his gratitude that she hadn’t married the man to himself. Since getting information out of her was akin to coaxing a skittish deer to eat grain from his hand, he pressed on. “Why didn’t you stay and marry him?”
“His mother strongly disapproved.”
Again, Drake waited for her to expand. When she didn’t, he decided to push some more. “How did you meet him?”
* * *
The last thing Kayla wanted to do was relive the year of horror that ended in her fleeing west. But she knew that shielding Drake from her past wasn’t wise. Her shame at what had happened made it difficult to explain. Closing her eyes, she tried to summon the past. “I met Gregory at a soirée. My father and I had been accepted in society because of the fortune he’d earned. He was an inventor, you see. The patents he held brought in a great deal of money.”
“What did he invent?”
“All sorts of trinkets. The most lucrative was a tool specially designed to help fix pocket watches. Papa was very good with his hands.”
“You never mention your mother,” Drake said.
“My mother died when I was a baby. I have no memories of her.” Although it might seem odd to feel sad for a person Kayla had never known, the grief of the loss still haunted her.
“What’s a swahrey?”
“A soirée. It’s a…gathering. A party, so to speak, where young society men meet young society women. Papa hoped to make a good match for me. Gregory introduced himself, and we seemed…compatible. We went on a few outings together. A picnic in the park. A costume ball. He proposed a few months after I met him, and at Papa’s urging, I accepted.”
“Your father liked the man?”
“He liked Gregory’s family name and their fortune.” Knowing exactly what Drake would ask next, Kayla beat him to the punch. “Gregory is a Carrington. His great-grandfather founded the Mid-Atlantic Bank.”
Drake let out a low whistle that told her he recognized the name. Most people did, even those who were far away from New York. The Carringtons had dealings all over the world, and their reach was immeasurable.
“So why didn’t you marry him?”
“His mother quickly let it be known that she did not approve of me.”
“Why the hell not?”
Kayla couldn’t help but enjoy the anger she heard in his voice. “In all honesty, I believe she wished Gregory to remain unmarried. She exerted quite a bit of control over his life.”
Drake snorted. “A mama’s boy.”
“I suppose. Although I did not see him as such as first. Her need to protect Gregory was strong because of his name and his fortune. She saw me and my new social status as beneath him—beneath them. Once she realized that he intended to marry me, Papa and I began to have problems.”
“Let me guess… Bank call a loan?”
“Exactly. And payments from buyers were often late. Then invitations were no longer being extended to either Papa or me. Friends confided that Chantal Carrington had been assuring everyone that the marriage wasn’t going to happen and that she would give anyone who extended us courtesy the cut direct.”
“What’s that mean?” Drake asked.
“She held the power to banish them from social functions. When I asked Gregory, he insisted he loved me and still wanted to marry me. He told me that nothing his mother could do would stop him.”
“Did you love him, Kayla?”
Turning her back to stare at the fire, Kayla let out a rueful little laugh. She’d asked herself the same question when it became clear that Chantal was doing everything she could to not only prevent the wedding but to exile Kayla and her father from acceptance in New York society. Gregory had been such a sweet suitor, and Kayla had agreed to marry him.
But did I love him?
Do I love him?
She mentally swept the question aside, not wanting to plumb the depth of her feelings. “He was kind and gentle, and I hoped to one d
ay have a family. Twenty-four is well past marrying age, and I knew Gregory would be a good father and care for our children.”
“Not enough reason to marry, not if you didn’t love him.”
All she did was shrug.
“Kayla…”
“Let me finish the story. Please.”
He gave her a curt nod.
Attention back on the dancing flames, Kayla swallowed hard. “I had confidence in Gregory…until the carriage accident. Papa was convinced the wheel that came off had been tampered with. I couldn’t go anywhere without different men following me. Papa guessed they were hired by Chantal to give her information on what I was doing and who I was with. Then all of our servants suddenly left. They didn’t even give notice, simply gathered their things and walked out. Papa was convinced Chantal was behind all of our misfortunes. He decided to confront her.”
Strong hands settled on her shoulders, and Kayla allowed herself the comfort of leaning back against Drake. His arms went around her waist, and he rested his chin on the top of her head. She drew strength from his presence.
“She came for tea at his invitation. When she arrived, she refused to dismiss her man-servant. He was a hulking man with black eyes. Otto Schneider. His size alone frightened me. I dare say he was the largest man I have ever seen.”
“You met him there? At the tea?”
“No, I had met Otto before. Whenever I was with Chantal, Otto was at her side. They were…close. Gregory had even confided in me that they might be…you know…intimate. The idea pleased him because his mother had been lonely for too long.”
“The rich lady had herself a lover.”
Kayla shrugged again. Until things had gone so sour in their lives, she had been more focused on Gregory than on his mother and the odd man who hovered around her.
“So what happened when they got there?” Drake coaxed.
“Papa wanted me to remain out of sight. I didn’t understand why, but I obeyed.” She let out a little sigh. “Not exactly obeyed. I spirited myself into the attic where I could listen to what was happening through an opening I discovered while exploring the house as a child. I realized I could watch the sitting room without anyone seeing me. I’m not sure he knew of my trick, but I always felt it was my responsibility to look out for him, especially since he became confined to his wheelchair.”
He rubbed his chin against her hair. “You’re a sneak is what you are, Kayla Backer.”
Hearing that name on his lips made her frown. There was more to the tale, but she would reveal the whole of her deception in due time. “Papa told Chantal that he knew she was the one responsible for our hardships. When she merely laughed at him, he assured her that he would do whatever it took for Gregory to marry me. Her response was that she would do the exact same thing to keep us from marrying and that she’d destroyed the betrothal papers.” A shiver raced through her as she remembered the rising anger in their voices, the hostility that had led to cold-blooded murder.
Drake held her a little tighter. “Tell me the rest. It’ll be good to get the poison out of your mind.”
“Chantal got up and left, saying she hoped never to have to deal with him or me ever again and that she would protect her son at all costs. But her man didn’t leave with her. He simply stood there and glared at my father. Once they were alone, Otto told Papa that Chantal wanted us both dead.”
“Dear God…”
The panic was filling Kayla as though the memory were alive again. “Papa pulled out a gun. I didn’t even know he owned one, but he pointed it at Otto and said he would kill him and Chantal to protect me. Everything happened so quickly. I wanted to run to Papa, but my feet seemed frozen.”
Drake kissed her ear. “It’s nothin’ to be ashamed of.”
“I am ashamed. If I could have gotten to them quickly, perhaps…”
“Perhaps, you woulda been shot, too.”
“When I finally was able to move, I ran as fast as I could. But then…there was a shot. By the time I made it down the stairs and to the drawing room, Otto had left. Papa was on the floor next to his chair, not moving. I was so afraid.” She bit back a sob and then tried to take a steadying breath.
“Was he…”
With a shake of her head, she pressed on. “He was shot here…” She pointed to her stomach. “I tried to help him, but there was so much blood. When I reached for him, he grabbed my hand and told me to stop. That he was done for.” Tears flowed freely down her cheeks. “He told me to run, that I would be next if I didn’t protect myself. I didn’t want to leave him. So I stayed until… Until…”
* * *
Drake could only hug her and try to soothe her hurt. The past was over, and while he hated forcing her to dredge up the horrible memories, he needed to know what they might be up against. He remembered the last time they’d seen Marshal Riley when the man had said there’d been a telegraph for a Carolyn, and Kayla had reacted icily, as though someone had walked over her grave.
Clearly, there was something else she hadn’t told him yet. “Is that the whole story, Kayla?”
She shook her head. “Papa made me swear to God that I’d leave him there and run away. He told me where he’d hidden some cash, and then he…was gone. I didn’t want to go…” She rubbed tears away with the heels of her hands. “I honored his wishes, grabbed the money, and hurried to the train station.”
“Where did you go?”
“Chicago. He had a brother living there. I have never met the man, but I had nowhere else to go. I was only there a few months when it became clear that I had been followed. My uncle made arrangements to get me to St. Louis and to Reverend Hayes. He’d heard about the reverend’s desire to help find brides for God-fearing men in the West. To keep me safe, my uncle gave me a new name—his mother’s—so Chantal could no longer track me. He figured once I was in Montana with a husband and a name no one recognized, I would at last be safe.”
“What’s your real name?”
“Burton. Carolyn Mae Burton. Papa—Jamison Burton—called me Cara.” She frowned. “Kayla was close, and I worried I wouldn’t respond to any name too different from my own. So I became Kayla Backer.”
“Cara. Cara Burton.” It would take a while for Drake to be able to process all that she’d revealed to him, but one thing was clear.
She really did trust him.
There was more they needed to talk about, but she had to be weary of reliving her ordeal. He turned her in his arms and held her close, wanting nothing more than to comfort her. If he was right, she hadn’t even had time to properly mourn her father. She’d had to flee her home, then her family had to send her away for her own protection.
Kayla wrapped her arms around his waist and rubbed her cheek against his chest.
“Let me make you somethin’ to eat, Cara,” he said. Although he would be content to hold her in his arms all night, his stomach was rumbling. Hers had to be every bit as empty. He wasn’t even sure what time it was, because he had no idea how long they’d slept. It was dark outside, but this time of the year, it seemed to be dark all the damn time.
“It’s a bit…odd hearing you use my true name. We should be careful not to say it around anyone. Please call me Kayla.”
“You got a point. So are you hungry?”
“It’s approaching midnight,” she said, easing back. “A tad late for supper.”
“Early breakfast, then.” He smiled at her as he took her hand and led her to the kitchen.
* * *
Once his stomach was full, Drake knew sleep would follow soon. Kayla, no doubt, was every bit as weary. Since he didn’t relish the idea of sleeping in what seemed to be the constant chilliness of his bedroom, he decided to sleep in front of the larger hearth in the sitting room.
Kayla stopped at the entrance to the hallway. “I believe I shall go to bed now. Are you ready to sleep as well?”
He grabbed the folded blanket and shook it out. “Think I’ll sleep right out here tonight. It’s mighty c
old, and I wanna be close to the fire. You go on.” After he spread the blanket on the floorboards, he was surprised to see her still standing there. “If you’re worried about your fire, I checked it. Added some wood, so you’ll be warm for a good, long while.”
“It’s not that…” She folded her arms around her waist. “I was…wondering…” She gave her head a quick shake and took a few steps into the hall. “Sleep well, Drake.”
As though he’d let her leave without telling him what she wanted. “Wonderin’ what, darlin’?”
Stopping, she turned back to face him. “I should like it if you shared my bed tonight.”
Eyes wide, he stared at her. “Beg pardon?”
“Not in an intimate way,” she said in a rush. “I would just…enjoy your company. And we could share our heat.” When he didn’t reply, she must have become nervous because she stammered out, “I promise t–to behave honorably.”
It was the strangest offer he’d ever received, and a smile broke out on his face. “Are you sure?”
She nodded vigorously.
Drake picked up the blanket and folded it. “I s’pose if you promise to keep your hands to yourself…” He glanced up to catch her grin and shook a scolding finger at her. “Nothin’ but sleep, mind you.” He winked at her before he set the blanket back on the sofa.
Then he followed her to her room. It was awash in firelight, and the setting was so romantic that it was perfect for a seduction. When he glanced at her, he noticed she was frowning. “Change your mind?”
“No. No, please stay.” Setting aside her shawl, she kicked off her shoes and went to the bed. She pulled back the covers and sat on the side of the mattress, but she made no move to lie down.
After toeing off his boots, Drake went to the opposite side of the bed. “Are you sure you didn’t change your mind?”