The Halsey Brothers Series

by Paty Jager

  “I’ll go get some.” Rachel held up the front of her skirt and hurried into the school. She was as excited as Clay to see it work.

  “Where are you hurrying to?” Mr. Griffin’s voice carried down the hallway.

  “Mr. Smith just made the most wonderful invention from Mr. Halsey’s idea. I’m getting him paper and a pencil to try it out.” She rushed into her office and grabbed the items. When she returned, Mr. Griffin fell in step beside her.

  She hurried across the grass to the bench. “Here you go.” She placed the items in Clay’s hands. He opened the boards like a book, settled the paper on the bottom board, matching the edges to the edges of the board, and flipped the top back in place. With a finger, he found the top open space, slid his finger along the opening to the left, and then set the lead end of the pencil in the slot.

  In block lettering he wrote, Dear Hank. He pulled the finger trailing along the slot behind the pencil out and slipped it into the slot right below and wrote a sentence.

  He raised his head and smiled. “Jasper, it works great!”

  “Was your idea,” the handyman said, grinning as broad as Clay.

  Rachel’s chest squeezed with happiness and pride. The two had made a wonderful gift for blind people.

  “Let me see that.” Mr. Griffin stepped forward, snatching the board book from Clay’s lap and studying it. He stared at Clay, then at Mr. Smith, and back down at the boards. “You two came up with this?”

  “I thought it up. Jasper made it.” Clay held out his hands.

  When Mr. Griffin continued staring at the boards, Rachel took them away and placed them in Clay’s hands.

  Mr. Griffin pivoted to Mr. Smith. “Could you make more of those?”

  Mr. Smith nodded and grinned. “How many?”

  “Let’s start with ten. Students who have been blind since birth and don’t know the alphabet can’t write, but those who have similar situations to Mr. Halsey should find these quite useful.” Mr. Griffin shook his head. “Bring them to my office when you finish.”

  Mr. Smith nodded, and Mr. Griffin wandered back to the school.

  “Clay, this is—” Rachel pulled the basket off the bench, sat down, and put her hand on Clay’s arm. “I’ll ask my father which lawyer would be best to work with to get this idea patented.”

  “Patented?”

  “Yes, a patent. That way no one else can steal your idea. And you can make these to sell.”

  “My own business?” His eyes widened, lifting his eyebrows. His handsome face brightened. “Jasper, how do you feel about moving to Sumpter?”

  Rachel stared at the handyman. How wonderful, Clay would share this with the man.

  “I-I’s never been there.”

  “Well, as my partner, you’ll have to move there to help me run the business. You’ll be in charge of manufacturing this tablet.”

  Mr. Smith’s grin spread across his face, showing white teeth and a sparkle in his eye. “You all sure that’s what you all want?”

  “Yes.” Clay rubbed his hand over the board. “I’ll write to Hank and tell him we’re starting a business and to look for a place we can manufacture these books.”

  Rachel picked up the basket of rolled bandages and placed it in the empty basket. “I’ll leave you two to work all this out, and after lunch I’ll visit with Father about the lawyer.”

  The excitement and energy the two men emitted swirled happiness in her chest. They made a good team. With Clay’s inventiveness and Mr. Smith’s skills they could make any number of worthwhile things.

  “Rachel”—Clay cleared his throat—“Thank you.” His eyes gazed at her. Her face heated, and her heart raced. If only he could see her.

  “I haven’t done anything.” Her hands clutched the baskets to keep from touching him.

  “You believe in both of us. That’s what counts.”

  She pulled her gaze from the man who day by day grew in her heart and glanced at Mr. Smith, who grinned and nodded.

  Rachel smiled back and ducked her head, hiding her embarrassment as she hurried into the school. Both men held a special place in her heart. Mr. Smith because of his kindness and help and Clay… When he returned home it would be like losing a piece of herself. She’d never held the feelings and connection with another that she’d developed with this man. Over the past weeks, the more she learned about him the more she wanted to spend time with him.

  She stumbled into the infirmary and quickly set to putting clean sheets on his bed. Grabbing his pillow to pull the case off, she stopped and inhaled shave soap and his unique scent. She clutched the pillow and dreamed of walking arm in arm with Clay through the crowd at the Fourth of July festivities. Women would watch them with envy. He would be the most handsome man there. Pride straightened her back and desire tightened her breasts. In the dark, fireworks bursting overhead, would he kiss her?

  Chapter 14

  Clay stood in his room in the cottage. He didn’t want to wear the hot, wool suit jacket to the festivities, but he didn’t want to disappoint Rachel by dressing like a worker rather than someone of her status.

  “Ya better hurry or they’s gonna come and leave without ya,” Jasper said from the door.

  “Is my hair staying put?” He should wear a hat, but then he wouldn’t know when to take it off in the presence of ladies. Rachel would understand, but would her family?

  “Ya look like a dandy.”

  The mirth in Jasper’s voice made some of Clay’s nerves flee.

  “I do? Then I shouldn’t look out of place in the mob Dr. Tarkiel’s family entertains.” Clay walked to the door. “Take me to the front of the school. Dr. Tarkiel said we’d wait for her family’s buggy together.”

  Jasper fell into step alongside him. A hand on Clay’s elbow guided him around the school building.

  When Rachel had said her father insisted on picking them up so they all arrived at the festivities as a family, he was a bit apprehensive.

  At least during the short ride to the park he’d have a chance to visit with her father and see where the man stood on his daughter’s choice of escort.

  “Steps,” Jasper said. “Four.”

  They were at the front of the school. After the announcement he would escort Rachel to today’s gathering, he had asked Jasper to take him walking every day, rain or not, so he would be strong enough to escort her wherever she wanted to go during the festivities.

  “Oh my!”

  Rachel’s exclamation made him stop.

  “What?” He hurried toward her voice. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, you’re—”

  “What? Jasper, did I forget my britches?” He patted his legs in mock seriousness.

  Rachel giggled. “No, you look wonderful.”

  His heart picked up its pace and he reached out for her hand. She placed it in his. He stepped closer, running his palm up her arm over cool soft skin. A scrap of fluffy cloth covered her shoulder. His hand continued up the gentle curve of her silky neck. The warmth and texture fanned his embers of desire. With tentative fingers, he caressed her upswept hair and ran the tips of his fingers over her face. He’d picked the right side of her body so she wouldn’t shy away from his touch when he came near the scar. Her allowing his touch raised his hopes of stealing a kiss or two during their outing.

  “You are beautiful.” The whispered words for her ears only.

  “You all’s ride’s coming,” Jasper said from a distance.

  Rachel’s small hand drew his from her face. She maneuvered them around, her hand through the crook of his elbow, and started across the porch.

  Walking upstairs was easier than going down. He concentrated on her forward motion, putting his foot out when she pulled and stepped down.

  “Bottom,” she said before he positioned his foot for another downward step. They walked along a crunching graveled path and stopped. The clomp of shod horses, jangle of harnesses, and crackle of wheels rolling down the street grew louder.

  Rac
hel’s hand clutched his arm. He placed a hand over it and squeezed. Why was she so nervous? This was her family, people who loved her. Maybe she had second thoughts about being escorted by a blind man?

  The noise ceased. The creak of springs ripped through the stillness.

  “Rachel.” A man’s deep voice filled the quiet, and she released his arm.

  “Father.” The warmth in the one word told Clay which parent she favored. She clutched Clay’s right hand and extended it palm in. “Judge Tarkiel, I’d like to introduce, Clay Halsey.”

  His hand met an equally sized, firm grasp.

  “Judge Tarkiel, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Rachel speaks of her family often.”

  “You have us at a disadvantage.” Judge Tarkiel’s deep authoritative voice rang with accusation. “We’ve heard little of you other than Celeste’s visit to the school.”

  “Rachel has been busy with her duties at the school.” Clay jumped to her defense. He unclasped his hand and motioned for Rachel to climb into the carriage. His stomach flinched with nerves wondering how he would get in without floundering like a fool.

  Rachel’s fingers wrapped around his hand, drawing him forward. “It’s a beautiful day. I’m glad you have the top down on the buggy, Father.” She stopped and draped Clay’s left hand over the smooth wood on the side of the vehicle. She took his right hand and he felt her rise in the air. Two steps up.

  Gratitude stopped his lurching guts. She gave him a visual of how to proceed. Keeping his hand on the side, he swung to face the buggy and raised his foot until he bumped the step, then placed his foot on it and stepped up. He repeated the movement and stood in the buggy. A tug on his sleeve drew him to sit on a plush bench. The sway of the buggy and more rustling of skirts meant the judge had climbed aboard and settled.

  Clay held out his hand. “Mrs. Tarkiel, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  A small, rather bony hand, slipped briefly across his palm. Not knowing where Celeste sat, he nodded. “Miss Tarkiel, a pleasure, again.”

  Rachel’s hand slipped into his. He squeezed gently. The buggy moved and a slight breeze ruffled his left side and back of his head.

  “Mr. Halsey, we know so little about you. Are you a local?”

  The judge’s question didn’t bother Clay. He’d have thought less of the man if he didn’t question him and his intentions toward his daughter.

  “My brothers and I own a mine and stamp mill in Sumpter.”

  “It supports how many of you?”

  “I have four brothers, three are married. One’s a marshal, one is a Pinkerton, and Ethan, Hank, and I run the stamp mill and mine.” He shrugged. “We haven’t had to scrounge for food the last five years. We had some lean ones right after our folks were killed, but Ethan, he’s the oldest, held us together and kept us fed.”

  “So you don’t have any relatives other than your brothers?”

  He presumed the woman speaking was Mrs. Tarkiel as it wasn’t Celeste or Rachel.

  “We have some cousins in the east. Ethan exchanges letters with them. But other than my brothers and their families, we’re it.”

  The buggy slowed and the chaos of voices and movement filled the air as they neared Wilson Park.

  “Father, look at all the people!” Excitement vibrated in Celeste’s voice.

  Rachel’s fingers gripped his hand like a hawk holding its prey. Her panic vibrated into him. One sister relished the excitement and crowds, while the other feared them.

  He rubbed his other hand over hers, trying to relax her muscles. He leaned close and whispered. “My having problems navigating through crowds should keep us on the edge of things.”

  The buggy came to a stop and shifted as the judge stood. Clay waited while the buggy jiggled and settled. Once he determined the judge had disembarked, he stood and ran a hand along the edge of the buggy to the opening and slowly stepped down first one rung and then to the ground. At the bottom, he held onto the side and raised a hand.

  Rachel’s small fingers wrapped around his as she climbed down and stood by his side. He offered his hand to the next woman. Celeste. The hand wasn’t bony and only touched him briefly before she alighted. Next, Mrs. Tarkiel, her thin hand clasped his tightly as she descended. The sandalwood scent and heavy footsteps of the judge closed in, and he claimed his wife.

  Voices called to the judge and his family. Rachel’s hand slipped through his arm, and they started forward. He patted her hand and forced a pleasant expression on his face, even though he had no idea what they were headed into, and his stomach twisted tighter than hemp rope.

  Rachel stared into the mass of bodies moving like the undertow in the ocean. Her heart raced in her tightening chest. She didn’t want to be swallowed by the crowd. Clay’s hesitant steps mirrored her feelings. He appeared in control, but his crooked elbow tightened more and more and he clutched her hand tight to his side. The visual of all the bodies scared her. What was it like to be blind walking into this chaos?

  Following her family around all day would be utter foolishness. Especially when neither one of them wanted to be in this crowd.

  She urged Clay to the left. When they broke free of the throng of people greeting her family, she slid her hand down to Clay’s and drew him to the outskirts of the mob. A huge sigh relieved the tightness in her chest, and she smiled at Clay. He dutifully followed her and relaxed when they no longer were among the gathering. His smile grew.

  “Where are we?” he asked, pulling on her hand and stopping her.

  “Under trees that ring the area where people have gathered for the speeches.”

  “Are we alone?” He raised an eyebrow and she giggled.

  “Unless someone comes looking for us, yes. We can sit here and watch without being crushed among the hoards who wish to make themselves known to my father and other politicians.”

  “I’ve waited to be alone with you since the first day I blundered.”

  His free hand cupped the back of her head. His large warm fingers heated her body from her neck down. He was going to kiss her. Her heart thrummed in her chest, and her breath caught. She’d dreamed of a moment just like this ever since he declared he’d escort her today.

  His lips brushed hers lightly, teasing. She pressed forward. His lips curved against hers.

  “I’m going to savor this,” he whispered, once again teasing her with a slight brush of soft skin against soft skin. She leaned against him, wrapping her arms around his middle, reveling in his hard body against hers. He tilted his head, covered her mouth completely, and licked the seam of her lips.

  She gasped at the intimacy, and he entered. Her legs weakened at the sensation of his tongue inside her mouth. His taste was something she’d never expected—intoxicating, addictive, and sweet like a sugar cookie. She moaned, and his arms clutched her tighter.

  Horns blared. The sound jolted her to where they were. She leaned her head against Clay’s chest and listened to his beating heart.

  “The horns mean the opening ceremony is beginning. And Father will speak.”

  “Do you want to get closer to hear?”

  His husky voice made her smile. He’d been affected by the kiss as well.

  “I would like to hear what he has to say about the upcoming election.”

  “Lead the way.” He twined their fingers together and fell in step beside her.

  She led them along the edge of the crowd, moving as close to the erected stage as she could. Her father stepped up to the podium and scanned the assembly. How he found her hovering on the edge of the crowd she’d never know. His gaze dropped to her hand clasped in Clay’s, and he frowned.

  Her father’s disfavor confused Rachel. He usually stood behind her decisions. She didn’t get caught up in the politics like her sister and mother. She and her father had a different bond. When he wanted to get away from the politics and fade from the center of attention they went fishing or for buggy rides.

  He started speaking and the mob hushed. Eloquent phrases a
bout the town, the country, and the upcoming elections flowed for thirty minutes. All the while her mother and sister stood on either side of him smiling like two Greek goddesses carved from marble.

  When her father finished the crowd cheered.

  “I can see why your father is held with such high esteem. He has vision for this town and state.”

  Clay’s comment filled her chest with pride. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

  “Miss Tarkiel, who is this man with whom you behave so familiarly?”

  Rachel whipped around at the accusing male voice. She groaned. William. Of all the people in this crowded park, why did she have to run into him?

  “Clay Halsey, I’d like to introduce you to William Stanley.”

  Clay extended his hand. She’d felt him stiffen at the man’s words. How did she convey William meant nothing to her without blurting the whole betrothal mess to him?

  William shook hands. She had to hide a smile behind her hand at the way he flexed his fingers after the greeting.

  “Halsey.” William studied Clay.

  “Stanley.” Clay continued to hold her hand, his thumb caressing her knuckles.

  “You in politics?” William asked.

  “No. Mining.” Clay said.

  “Is your family here, William?” Rachel couldn’t for the life of her figure out why William was interested in Clay or her for that matter. He’d made his thoughts perfectly clear the day he tossed her aside.

  He shook his head and continued to stare at Clay. “They went to Portland to visit my grandparents.” He waved a hand back and forth and a wicked smiled split his long face.

  Rachel inhaled, and Clay stiffened.

  Clay didn’t like the way Rachel vibrated with fear. What had this man done to her?

  “Let’s go,” He tugged on her hand. “Nice meeting you,” he tossed over his shoulder, leading Rachel away from the stage and crowd. Damn, he felt like a coward hurrying away, but he couldn’t protect her from things he couldn’t see. And it rankled.

  Thirty paces away, he stopped. “Is there a bench we can sit on somewhere?”