Before he could stop himself, he squeezed her shoulder.
She stiffened and crossed her arms.
“I’ll get some coffee. Do you want some?”
“Sure.”
He hissed as he pushed to his feet. Two cracked ribs and he wanted to die. Not very masculine.
“You probably shouldn’t be moving around so much.” Grace’s brow furrowed, and she started to get up.
“I’ll be fine.” After the attack in the church he wasn’t allowed to do much for eight months. It was a nightmare, one that he never wanted to experience again.
He poured two cups of coffee and returned to his spot beside Grace. Reason told him to sit in a chair instead, perhaps even in a different room, but the opportunity to be close enough to Grace to touch, even accidentally, won.
She cradled the cup between her hands and lifted it to her lips. “You know who did this.”
“Grace, let Luke handle it. Please.”
She stared at her coffee, her posture rigid. Not blinking. He waited, but she remained motionless. He poked her, desperate to see that she was still breathing. Her snort comforted him.
“I know you’re used to doing things on your own, but you don’t have to. Not anymore.”
Grace took a sip of coffee and looked at the fire. “I’ve seen the law fail people. Good people who deserved to receive justice.”
Caleb brought the cup to his mouth but couldn’t make himself taste it. “Luke’s a good sheriff. He’s fair and determined. Let him do his job.” She glanced at him, her pale hair concealing most of her face from his view. His words muddled and his tongue turned to ash. He cleared his throat, set the coffee mug down, and cupped her face. His breath hitched at the unshed tears that shimmered in her eyes.
“I need to stretch my legs. Will you watch Jewel a second?” Grace shot to her feet so fast, Caleb recoiled.
Not waiting for his reply, she gripped the quilt and left the parlor. Peril was normal in her line of work. But now she was on the edge of crossing a whole different forbidden barrier. For a heartbeat, with him beside her, she’d considered leaning against him, welcoming his presence and the silent strength he offered. Her heart tripped. There was a chance that a decent man was on the verge of loving her, and despite knowing how much love would complicate everything, she hesitated to discard it.
Aside from the moonlight that flickered through the bare branches outside of the window and into the kitchen, it was dark, and she didn’t bother to light the lamp.
She paced the length of the room, skirting the chairs, the thud of her boots on the floorboards loud. After her conversation with Ellen, the possibility of staying grew a little too appealing. Why did Caleb have to be nice? As soon as he realized she was not worthy of him, he’d beg her to leave. But what in tarnation was taking so long? She balled her hands. Her worst fear was to turn into a sputtering, blushing fool, and due to her obvious attention-starved condition, she might have misread his tenderness. The humiliation from rejection would level her.
She cradled the hand he’d held against her chest and a rush of emotions flooded her. If only…
“If only what?” Grace whispered.
A yawn from the doorway stilled her. Libby. Turning, her notion was confirmed. The girl rubbed her eyes with her fists and muttered something that had to do with a kitten and flying. Silver light spilled through the window and touched the child’s face and nightdress.
“Libby, what’s wrong?”
Libby toddled over to Grace, missing the closest chair with less than an inch, and stretched her arms.
Ah. The little girl was sleepwalking. That explained the prattle. She scooped Libby up into her arms and headed to the stairs.
“What’s wrong?” Abby sat up the moment Grace pulled the covers up to Libby’s chin.
“Nothing. Libby sleepwalked.”
“Again?”
“Appears so.” Grace folded her arms. It wasn’t her place to swirl a strand of soft hair around her finger as though she was Libby’s Ma. Margaret Brennan couldn’t be feeling good where she was, not with Grace parading in her house, playing mother to her daughters.
“Is Jewel all right?” Abby yawned.
“She’ll be fine. Get some more sleep.” Grace started to retreat.
“Will you kiss me good night?” Abby pulled the quilt to her chin as she dropped back against the pillow.
12
The wagon jostled and Grace tightened her grip on the side of the wagon bed. Closing her eyes, she could still imagine the steeple…taunting her.
“You gonna be awright from here, sonny?” The old man called over his shoulder, startling her. He’d been a quiet companion, which suited Grace, gave her time to sort out her thoughts.
“Sonny?”
Grace twisted to see the man’s weathered face, thick and bushy brows almost covering his eyes in a frown.
“I’ll be fine from here.” With a nod, she jumped down. The winter chill in the breeze had her shivering and tightening her coat around her slight form. “Thank you for the ride.” She’d walked most of the night, and, as the darkness stretched, the wagon passed by, ushering her further away from Cedar Grove quicker than expected. Grace turned in a slow circle. Her surroundings appeared void of civilization, dawn’s fingers spreading across the land. Before she reached the next town, her feet would be a blistered mess, but maybe she’d catch another ride with someone else. Folding her arms against her chest did nothing to disguise or minimize the pain, the utter emptiness. With her jaw clamped hard, Grace glanced over her shoulder.
One step at a time. It was all she needed to put as much distance between herself and Caleb and his daughters. Running irked her. She’d always prided herself on successfully completing her tasks. Of course, those were limited to tracking bandits, and on the odd occasion, runaways. Never had her heart been compromised.
So, like a coward, Grace dressed and left, wordlessly during the night. Fled. That’s what she did. Leaving only a lousy note in her wake with the promise of returning for Jewel soon. Distance would clear Grace’s head, help her return to a life she no longer wanted. Bluebonnets! She thrust the image of Caleb’s easy smile from her mind and increased her pace. As if putting miles between her and Cedar Grove would change what she felt. What she’d done. Because of her, Reverend Conrad might still take the girls.
A horse’s frightened whinny sliced through the air, and her thoughts evaporated. Unarmed and annoyed, Grace inched forward. An image flashed into her mind, spurring her on. She rounded the corner of the hedgerow to find a man on the ground and a pretty bay mare snorting less than a foot away.
The man started to sit up but stopped and leaned back on his elbows. Blood oozed from a gash on his forehead.
“Mister?” She crept closer, and his head snapped up to her. He blinked and touched the bruise on his head with a shaky hand.
“I’m here to help.” She caught the horse’s reins and gave the mount a quick overview. Nothing appeared amiss so she ran her hand along the horse’s neck and whispered soothing words to it. With a final pat, she led the horse over to the rider and squatted beside him. Dressed in something that spoke of wealth, the coat now sported a rip at the shoulder, and smudges of dirt.
“What happened?”
The man drew a sharp breath as if she’d splashed ice water on his face.
“Something startled my horse. Next thing I know, I was on my back.” His face twisted in a grimace.
“Are you hurt?” Aside from the gash, he appeared fine. Soiled and rattled but in one piece.
“Only my pride.” He pushed to his feet but with a low cry, crumbled to the ground. Sweat beaded on his brow. “I think I sprained my ankle.” He sucked a breath through clenched teeth.
“Closest town is Cedar Grove.” Grace fisted her hands on her knees.
The man gave a humorless chuckle. “I’ve been trying to get to Cedar Grove for months.”
Grace frowned. “Who are you?” His dark
eyes reminded her too much of Libby’s gaze.
“Alex Conrad, and you are?”
She sat back on her behind and scrubbed her face with her hands.
“You look surprised.”
“A little.” She stood. “I’ll help you onto the horse. We’ll be at Cedar Grove before nightfall.”
“I appreciate your help. And that God sent you this way when He did.”
“Don’t be so sure about that, Mr. Conrad.” Grace gripped his elbow. “Lean on me as you stand.”
He nodded, nostrils flared as he rose.
Grace tightened her grip around his waist, supporting him until he stood. A bead of sweat trailed down his temple, and he grunted when he put weight on his left foot. She clucked the horse closer and as she instructed Mr. Conrad how to mount the mare, she kept the horse still.
“Are you familiar with Cedar Grove?” He panted and gripped the saddle horn.
“I’ve spent some time there.” She should’ve pretended to be mute. It would’ve helped her to avoid a conversation that she’d rather not have.
“What’s it like?”
“Like every other small town. Everyone knows everyone’s business.” Grace clucked to the horse and started walking down the road she’d just traveled.
“Excuse me, miss, but wouldn’t it be better if you rode with me?”
Grace gaped at him.
He smiled. “Your voice, I’m not sure why you dress as a man, but your voice is distinctively female.”
Well dang! Ten years of practice and hard work and Caleb made her forget in a few short days. She smiled. “Protection. A woman traveling alone lures trouble.”
He nodded. “How about riding double?”
Grace shook her head. “I’ll walk a stretch.”
They moved at an easy speed, Grace’s heart thundering with every step she took.
“Did you happen to meet the reverend?”
“Caleb Brennan?”
“Yes, that’s him.”
“I did. Good man.” Her palms grew clammy and she alternated the reins from one hand to another, swiping her palms against her pant leg one at a time.
“I’ve known him most of his life. And his brother, Luke. They grew up with my daughter. Eventually Caleb married her.” His voice cracked and he coughed. He ran a hand along his short trimmed, steel-gray beard.
“Why are you going to Cedar Grove?” A useless question, since she already knew the purpose of his visit. If only she had a tactic to confront him. Maybe refusing to take him to Cedar Grove until he promised to leave Caleb and his daughters alone wasn’t as savage as she feared.
“I haven’t seen my granddaughters in four years. Never even met the little one.”
Was that regret she sensed in his voice?
“They’re lovely little girls. Abby is brave and spontaneous. Libby is gentle and sweet.”
“You’ve met them as well?”
Grace pulled up a shoulder and increased her pace. She didn’t want to jeopardize Caleb’s situation anymore. It was bad enough that she’d backed out of their agreement like a coward. Now she was guiding his father-in-law toward him, while knowing Caleb depended on her role to strengthen his position to keep the girls. Her life had made her selfish, but this latest stunt shocked even her.
“Attended his church?”
“Yep. Why? Don’t I strike you as the church going type?”
He smiled, the lines around his eyes deepening. “The outer can be deceiving.”
“Yep.”
“May I ask your name?”
“Grace Blackwell.” No use in making one up.
“I am most grateful you took pity on a helpless city dweller like myself, seeing to my safe arrival in Cedar Grove.”
“Sure.” Was everyone Caleb knew talkative?
The horse’s hooves clopped against the hard-packed earth, each thud a step closer to Caleb and his daughters. Despite her resolve, Caleb and the girls were so deep in her heart, no amount of miles could change that.
“Would you like a sip of water?” In her peripheral vision, a flask glinted in the sunlight and water sloshed inside.
“Much obliged.” She took it with a nod, lifted it to her lips and tilted it.
13
Caleb could only sit and stare at his hands.
“I knew this would happen.” Luke let the chair legs thump to the ground.
“Luke, please.” Ellen squeezed Caleb’s shoulder as she passed him.
“Look at him. He’s crushed.”
“I’ll be fine.” Slumped in the chair, Caleb took slow breaths and raked his fingers into his hair, cradling his pounding forehead in the palms of his hands. He’d be a lot better if Luke would drink his coffee and keep his thoughts to himself.
“I was so hopeful that this Christmas would be better.” Ellen’s long skirts and the soft thump of her boots drew Caleb’s gaze to her pacing form. “How are the girls?”
“Abby’s not talking. Libby won’t stop crying.”
Caleb bounced his leg. Against his will and resolve, he’d fallen in love with a woman who wasn’t in love with him. He could laugh at the absurdity of it all. From unwilling to allow a woman into his heart again, he’d fallen hard and fast for the least willing woman on the face of the planet. How classic.
He glanced at the half drank coffee, the liquid long since lost its heat. The chair scraped as he stood. There simply wasn’t time to wallow in pity. He’d survived after Margaret. He’d do it again. Abby and Libby needed him. And he could tan his own hide for subjecting them to more hurt. His job as a father was to protect them.
“I hate to bring this up, but there’s still a chance that Alex Conrad can arrive any day now.”
The vice returned to Caleb’s ribs. He scratched his cheek and flattened against the wall.
“Daddy!” Libby burst into the kitchen, her red-rimmed eyes wide.
“Hey, pea.” He swung her up and winced at the pang in his ribs.
“I can’t find Abby.”
“That’s the whole idea when you play hide and seek, pea.” He rubbed his nose against hers.
“We weren’t playing, Daddy.”
Caleb lowered Libby to her feet and took her hand in his. “Let’s go check upstairs. Remember that time Abby fell asleep in Mama’s trunk?” He glanced at Luke.
“I’ll check the yard.” Luke stood.
“I’ll go look in the church.” Ellen snagged her shawl from the peg and followed Luke outside.
Caleb squeezed Libby’s hand as he led her to the stairs. She offered him a wobbly smile and with a nod, followed him up the stairs. Moments later Caleb stumbled down the stairs. After checking the trunk and wardrobe, even under the beds, he found no sign of Abby. Her handkerchief was out of the drawer. Unlike Libby, Abby preserved hers in the bureau.
“Where’s Abby?” Libby’s eyes welled with tears, and her voice trembled.
“We’ll find her. Maybe Aunt Ellen or Uncle Luke already has.” He cupped Libby’s face and hunkered down in front of his daughter.
The door creaked open. Ellen entered with a slow shake of her head.
Libby whimpered, and Caleb scooped her up again. His headache exploded. If the invincible fist squeezed his lungs any harder, he’d faint.
“She can’t have just vanished.” Ellen bit her thumb nail.
Luke entered, his expression solemn. “She’s nowhere in the yard.”
Libby wailed and Ellen held out her arms.
“Pea, go to your aunt. Uncle Luke and I will see if someone’s found her.”
Grace gripped the reins. Her heart tripped and her throat dried when Cedar Grove’s clapboard buildings came into view.
Something similar to a whimper caused Grace to pull back on the reins.
Mr. Conrad stared at the town sprawled in front of him.
“How’s your ankle?”
He blinked and looked at her. “It’s paining something awful.” His smile was hesitant. “But I�
�ll be fine.”
There was that faint whimper again. Grace swung out of the saddle.
“Is something wrong, Miss Blackwell?”
Was something wrong? Or was her imagination and exhaustion playing tricks on her? “I heard something.”
Mr. Conrad had the good sense not to talk. He straightened in the saddle, and scanned the area. “There!” He pointed at a fallen log.
Grace squinted at it and caught a flutter of white only a second before a little figure dashed from it.
“Mama!”
If not for bracing her legs a moment before Abby slammed into her, Grace would’ve landed on her backside. “Abby?” Grace whispered as she cradled the child’s head against her. The girl sobbed, her arms tightening around Grace’s legs. “What are you doing here?” Grace caught Abby’s shoulders when her grip loosened and hunkered down in front of the girl.
“I saw you leave.” Abby sniffled.
Grace framed Abby’s face and drew a staggering breath.
“When Daddy said you left, I came looking for you.” Another whimper and Grace wished she could butt her own head with a rifle again. “I walked and walked and got afraid.”
Grace swallowed. Had something happened to Abby it would’ve been her fault. She would’ve brought more heartache to the very man she loved so much she wanted to protect him from all harm. Grace crushed Abby against her and peppered the top of her head with kisses. “I’m sorry I left, Abby. That was plenty stupid of me.”
“Are you coming home?” Abby swiped her nose.
“I am.” Grace sat back on her haunches and twisted enough to face Mr. Conrad.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and dipped his chin.
“I want to introduce you to someone,” Grace said to Abby as she stood and clasped Abby’s hand. “But then we must hurry home to Daddy and Libby.” Her heart tripped at imagining Caleb and his charming smile.
“All right.” Abby nodded.
Grace led her to the horse and lifted her onto the saddle in front of Mr. Conrad.
“Your daughter?” His voice was thick with emotion.
Grace took up the reins. “Yes. She’s also your granddaughter. Mr. Conrad, this is Abigail Brennan.”
A Match of Sorts Page 8