Oh! If he were standing a little closer, she’d slap his face hard. “That, Mr. Sterling, is none of your affair. If you must know, Peter and I—”
“Cecilia.” Peter cut her off. “He doesn’t need to know anything. I’m quite certain he is ready to leave as it is.”
Heath glared at her. “I’m ready to leave all right, but I have one last thing to say.”
“Say it and be on your way,” she told him.
“Miss Ashby, you accused me once of wanting to marry you just so I could get my hands on your plantation. But do you know what you’ve done? You’re allowing Mr. Grayson to use you the same way.”
She scowled. “How dare you assume—”
“Cecilia,” Peter snapped. “Don’t listen to him. He’s talking nonsense.”
Heath threw back his head and laughed. “Cecilia, dear, I’m willing to bet you don’t know the true identity of the man standing beside you, do you?”
Her heart skipped a beat in panic. What was he talking about?
Peter jumped away from her and toward Heath, making the horse skittish. “It’s past time you left, Mr. Sterling.”
“Go on, Peter,” Heath continued as he gained control over his horse. “Tell her who you are and why you’re really here.”
Her heart sank, and she clutched her middle. “Peter?” Her voice wavered. “What is he referring to?”
“It’s nothing but nonsense,” Peter grumbled.
Heath pulled his horse to a stop again. “Oh come now, Peter. Don’t be shy. Tell Cecilia why you’re here. Tell her how you returned to Texas to buy back your family’s plantation.”
Peter’s body stilled with his back to her. His shoulders drooped, and his head lowered. A painful ache grew in her chest as a knot formed in her throat.
“What...plantation?”
Peter remained silent.
Heath chuckled. “Yours, my dear Cecilia. Before you moved here, this plantation used to belong to Peter’s grandfather, but after the war, the old man couldn’t afford to pay taxes on it, so carpetbaggers took it away. Peter had enough money from his gambling to offer you payment to buy your home, Cecilia, but when he was robbed and couldn’t do that, he used a different method to sink his claws into your plantation. I’m quite certain you know what method that was, don’t you?”
Her heart ripped to pieces, and her eyes stung with unshed tears. No! He couldn’t be right! Yet it was. Peter wasn’t saying anything to rebuke Heath’s story.
Her stomach churned. I’m going to be sick.
She took a deep breath. “Peter?”
Slowly, his body straightened, and he turned toward her. He wore a frown, and tight lines etched deep into his face. He lifted his chin a notch. “Cecilia, will you let me explain?”
A tear slipped past the dam in her eyes and ran down her cheek. “How...could you? All of this was a lie?” Her voice quivered.
He shook his head. “I love you, and that’s not a lie.”
Heath roared with laughter. “Mr. Grayson, will you stop at nothing to reclaim your grandfather’s plantation? Haven’t you hurt Miss Ashby enough already?”
Peter stepped near her and held out his hand for her to take. “Please let me explain. Please listen to me.”
She tightened her arms around her stomach as it continued to roll. Stepping back, she shook her head. “Leave me alone, Peter. I don’t want to talk to you—or see you ever again,” she whispered brokenly.
He hitched a breath. “You can’t mean that.”
She nodded. “I can’t allow you to use me, Mr. Grayson. Please take your things and leave posthaste. Know this now...you will never have me or my plantation ever again!”
As tears streamed down her face, she ran toward the house, her heart breaking with each step.
Chapter Nineteen
With each drink of whiskey Peter tipped back and let slide down his throat, his vision became more blurred. He didn’t care. He’d ruined his life.
He blamed himself. He should have been honest with Cecilia. Instead, he manipulated her. Used her.
And fell madly in love with her.
He thought time would heal his heart, but the week away from her hadn’t done a doggone thing. He missed her and wanted her back in his life. He wanted to explain why he’d done those terrible things, and why he loved her so desperately he’d do anything to get her back.
“Peter, darlin’,” Rose purred as she filled his glass. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
He’d shake his head but was afraid the dizziness that consumed him would make him fall off his stool. “I’m content to wallow in my whiskey, thank you.”
She rubbed his shoulders. “Let me take your mind off things. Let me show you what a good time you’ll have with me upstairs in your room.”
“I’m not interested in a good time, Rose. I deserve this misery...every second of it.”
Her fingers threaded through his hair. “No, you don’t. Miss Ashby doesn’t deserve your love.”
Taking slow movements, he turned his head to look at her. He scowled. “Yes, she does. It’s me who doesn’t deserve her.”
She grimaced. “Miss Ashby has been stringing men along for years.” She huffed and folded her arms across her mostly exposed bosom. “She has poor Heath Sterling wrapped around her little finger.”
Peter straightened. “Excuse me? I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“Most the men in the county are doe-eyed over her. She used to be the prettiest girl around these parts. Perhaps it’s her illness that draws the men to her, but they’d do anything to get in her good graces.”
“What about Mr. Sterling? What has she done to lead him on?”
“Well, their parents were good friends until her parents died. They were supposed to get married, I think. Heath’s father wanted Belle Grove to add to his plantation. He knew the soil was better than his.” She shrugged. “Heath’s father had sold the plantation to Miss Ashby’s father when they were low on money one year. I think Heath’s pappy regretted it, because he’d coveted the land ever since.”
“I suppose Heath feels as strongly as his pappy?”
She nodded and leaned against him, her hand softly stroking his chest. “Heath is a powerful man around these parts, and he usually gets whatever he’s after—one way or another.”
Peter arched a brow. “And he wants Miss Ashby?”
“Yes. He has for years.” An underlining bitterness laced her tone. “And he’ll do anything to get her and her plantation.”
He growled and tossed back the glass of whiskey, thankful the liquor no longer burned as it glided down his throat. “Cecilia doesn’t know this, does she?”
“Probably not.” Rose shrugged. “I think she’s playing coy with him, anyway. She’s a witch, I tell ya.”
He stared at his empty glass. “No, she’s an angel. She’s a stubborn, headstrong woman who’ll never let her plantation fall into anyone’s hands. Not while she’s alive.”
Rose snorted a laugh. “That won’t stop Heath.”
Fear gripped Peter’s chest and made him more nauseous. He hoped his mind over-imagined things. He wouldn’t be able to bear the thought of his beautiful Cecilia in harm’s way. “I need to talk to her,” he muttered as he stood. He swayed against the bar. Rose grabbed him around the waist and pressed up against him.
“Let me help you upstairs.”
“I’m not going upstairs.”
She chuckled. “Honey, you’re not fit to go anywhere else.”
He grumbled and glanced out the window. Tarnation! Why’d he have to drink so much when depressed? Cecilia had warned him that drinking was not healthy and made men weak. Now he understood. Alcohol made men mentally weak, and right now, Peter wished he’d never picked up the bottle...or walked into the saloon, for that matter. She’d been correct when she said that drinking alcohol was for weak people who couldn’t deal with their problems.
Groaning, Peter scrubbed his hands over his face. When
had he become this kind of man? In the past, he’d always dealt with his problems. When he couldn’t, he would talk to his parents, and they would pray with him. Peter certainly needed their prayers now.
At that moment, a familiar figure caught Peter’s eye as the man rushed across the street. Peter’s heart lifted.
Doc Copeland!
Thank the good Lord the doctor returned just when Peter needed him the most. Since Copeland was Cecilia’s uncle, he’d be able to help Peter or at least give him some good advice.
“Rose, I do need your help.”
Her eyes widened as did her grin. “What would you like me to do?”
“Help me out the door. I need to see Doc Copeland.”
She pouted. “Why him?”
“Because I have some things to discuss with the man. Plus I owe him money.”
She huffed. “I’ll help ya only if you promise to let me take ya to my room tonight. I promise to make ya a very happy man.”
Peter chuckled and cupped her face—as soon as he found the right one since two appeared before him. “There’s only one person that can make me a very happy man, and that’s Miss Ashby.”
Rose scowled and pushed her hands against his chest, knocking him against the bar. “Why didn’t you die after you were stabbed?”
Why did she say that? But Peter’s mind didn’t care about the harlot. Instead, he focused on getting to Doc Copeland. He stumbled toward the door, but thankfully righted himself before he fell to the floor. Taking one step at a time and making certain he headed in the right direction, he walked out of the bar and toward the doctor’s office.
Today’s weather wasn’t as humid, and he breathed in the fresh air the small wind blew in from the south. It still didn’t clear his head like he’d wanted. He kept his focus on moving his feet toward the doctor’s office.
Just before he reached his destination, the familiar swagger of a man caught his eye. He stared at the man he’d hated as a child but loathed completely now. The talk with Doc Copeland would have to wait a couple of minutes. Peter needed to confront Heath Sterling first.
Heath headed toward the saloon, his walk quick and sure. Peter hurried to catch up, stumbling a couple of times and cursing his intoxication. Taking a deep breath, he tried to sober himself as fast as he could.
“Hold up there, Sterling,” Peter shouted.
The other man stopped and swung his head toward Peter. A scowl darkened Heath’s face through narrowed eyes and pinched lips. His arms crossed smartly over his chest, and he lifted his chin in defiance.
Peter would love to knock that cockiness right out of him. When Peter stood in front of the dolt, he braced his feet apart and crossed his arms over his chest, too. “I’d like to have a word with you.”
“Then have it because I’m a very busy man.”
“I would like to take this discussion somewhere private.”
“Too bad. You either tell me now or hold your breath.”
Dropping his arms, Peter fisted his hands. He’d love nothing better than to lay this man low. “I’m giving you fair warning. I’d better not catch you near Miss Ashby again.”
Heath’s eyes widened mere seconds before he threw his head back and barked out laughter. Peter gritted his teeth. Obviously, the fool didn’t take him seriously.
“I mean it, Sterling. You make any improper advances toward her, and I’ll—”
“You’ll what? Get drunk?” He chuckled. “Grayson, your threats are falling on deaf ears. I don’t give a hoot about you or Miss Ashby.”
Peter shook his head. “That’s not the rumor going around these parts. I heard you want Belle Grove, and you’ll stop at nothing to obtain it. But I’m telling you now, you’ll never get it.”
Heath’s eyes darkened, and his lips curled in an evil sneer. “Listen here, Grayson. I don’t take kindly to threats, especially coming from ill-bred men like you. Usually I get whatever I’m after, and I will get my hands on Belle Grove one way or another.” His expression relaxed slightly. “Besides, I don’t understand why you’re so hot under the collar to protect Miss Ashby now. She doesn’t want to have anything to do with you since you lied to her.”
“Not right now she doesn’t, but I plan on changing that as soon as I can. I love that lil’ lady, and I’m not giving up on her, and I will do everything in my power to protect her.”
With a laugh, Heath rolled his eyes. “Famous last words?” He snickered. “Out of my way, you drunken lout. I have better things to do than trade insults with you.”
As Heath turned to leave, Peter stopped him by grasping his shoulder. Glaring into the man’s eyes, Peter said, “Think what you want, but I will promise you this. I will not let you take anything away from me ever again. Not too long ago, you and your pa took away my granddaddy’s plantation. I watched the smirk on your face as you issued the command for us to leave. I promised myself then and there I would never let you take anything away from me again.” He stepped closer. “Do you understand?”
Heath’s lips curled again. “Perfectly.” He pulled away from Peter and marched into the bar.
Sighing deeply, Peter tried to shake the anger that man had stirred inside him. One thing he knew for sure, he would stay true to his word and not let anything happen to Cecilia or Belle Grove.
Now he had to convince the stubborn woman of that.
Determination guided him as he headed for Doc Copeland’s office. When he reached the door, he collected his courage, hoping he could get the doc to side with him.
Voices carried from within the office, and he cautiously opened the door and peeked inside. Doc and someone from town visited and laughed. The squeak from the door must have drawn the attention from the other two because they looked his way. The older woman’s cheerful smile wavered slightly, but it was the doctor’s expression that made Peter curious. Doc Copeland’s body stiffened, and his jaw hardened. Why would the good doctor act like this toward him? Weren’t they friends?
“Pardon me, but I need a word with Doc Copeland.”
The rotund older woman nodded and moved toward the door. “I’ll speak with you about that matter later, Doctor,” she said over her shoulder. “Once again, welcome home.”
“Thank you,” Lee said.
Peter reached up to doff his hat when he realized he wasn’t wearing one. He must be more upset over the talk with Heath than he thought. Or more intoxicated... “Afternoon, Doc.” Peter nodded.
“Mr. Grayson? What can I do for you?”
The doctor’s clipped tones made Peter pause. What had he done to make the doctor upset? Perhaps the good physician had heard about the lie Peter told Cecilia. Being family and all, the uncle would have heard by now. “I need to speak with you about a personal matter.”
The man’s expression remained hard...and somewhat very familiar. Of course the man was related to Cecilia, but they sure did look alike right now. Peter rubbed his eyes, hoping the disturbing vision in front of him would disappear and Doc Copeland would return.
Peter closed the door and moved to the chair. “I’ve come to talk to you about your niece, Cecilia.”
“About what?”
Peter sat and linked his fingers across his stomach. “I think she may be in danger.”
The corner of Lee’s mouth tugged upward. “Danger? You must not know her as I do, Mr. Grayson. She’s a tough woman and can take care of herself.”
“Not if she doesn’t know about the immediate danger she might be in.”
The doctor nodded and leaned against his desk. “Why do you think she’s in danger?”
Peter shook his head and rubbed his eyes again, wishing he’d stop seeing Cecilia. It disturbed him to see her dressed like a man.
Peter cleared his throat. “I’m led to believe her neighbor, Mr. Sterling, will stop at nothing to claim her property. I just heard today that Mr. Sterling has always wanted that plantation, and he’ll do anything he can to obtain it. Just a few minutes ago, I spoke with the man, and he didn�
�t deny the accusations.”
One of Lee’s eyebrows rose as the doc cocked his head. “And how is Mr. Sterling any different from you?”
Peter cussed under his breath. Looked as if Cecilia had indeed spoken to her uncle. Peter ran his fingers through his hair. “Because I’m in love with her. That’s how we’re different.”
“You don’t believe Mr. Sterling loves her, too?”
Peter narrowed his unfocussed eyes. “No! He doesn’t care one iota for her welfare. I love her, Doc. I’ll do anything to make her love me in return. And I want to protect her from men like Sterling, but she won’t let me near.”
Doc Copeland frowned and folded his arms over his round middle. “What do you want me to do about it?”
“Talk to her.” Peter leaned forward in his chair. “Convince her I’m not a bad person. Convince her she needs to hear my explanation instead of ignoring me.”
“Mr. Grayson, I don’t see how any of this has to do with Mr. Sterling. It sounds to me like you’re overreacting out of jealousy.”
Peter fisted his hands. “Fine. I’ll admit, I’m jealous because I love that woman so much I can’t see straight, but I’m more frightened Heath is going to do something to her. He wants her plantation. Can’t you see that?”
Lee turned his back toward Peter and grabbed his black leather medicine bag. “I can’t talk about this now, Mr. Grayson. I have a house call to make.”
Peter rubbed his forehead. Doc wasn’t going to help him and that left a hollow ache in his chest. Releasing a frustrated sigh, he stood and reached into his pocket for the money he owed the good doctor. “Before you go,” Peter said, “I have something to give you.”
Lee looked over his shoulder as Peter pulled out the money. He walked to the desk and slammed the money down in front of the doctor. “Thanks for the loan. Here’s the money back—and a little more.”
He thought he heard the doctor suck in a quick breath, but the pain in Peter’s chest threatened to choke him. He needed to figure out a way to talk to Cecilia. Very soon.
Hurrying out as fast as he could, he stumbled out to the street. He slumped against the nearest tree and squeezed his eyes shut, fighting back the heartache consuming his very being.
Touching Heaven Page 22