Eternal Vows (Hideaway (Kimani)) (9 page)

Whenever he spoke Spanish to the stable boy and the grooms it wasn’t as if they didn’t understand English, because they were bilingual. It was to keep himself fluent with the language he’d been forced to speak whenever he went to visit his great-grandmother. Marguerite-Joséfina, or M.J. as she’d asked to be called, was fluent in English and Spanish, but it was toward the end of her life that she refused to speak English.

He ended the call, feeling somewhat smug that he’d convinced his father to take his mother abroad. Timothy had retired at sixty and spent most of his free time golfing and sailing, while Nichola kept herself busy volunteering for her favorite charities.

Nicholas’s gaze shifted to the invitation on his desk. Sheldon’s surprise celebration was two weeks away; that meant he didn’t have too much time to come up with an appropriate gift for his mentor. He hadn’t known why he’d felt drawn to Sheldon until he realized there was something about him that reminded Nicholas of his father. The two men were close in age and were retired businessmen. Even their personalities were similar: soft-spoken, yet no-nonsense.

Reaching for his cell, he tapped Contacts, scrolling through the names under the letter
B.
There were listings for more than half a dozen Blackstones. He tapped Peyton’s name, then waited for a break in the connection.

* * *

Peyton Blackstone patted the pillow for her cell when she felt it vibrating. Her right hand closed around the phone as she opened one eye. Punching in her password, she stared at the name of the caller, her heart stopping momentarily before starting up again.

“This is Peyton.” Her voice came out in a breathless whisper.

“Is this not a good time?” he asked.

There was a pause before she spoke again. “Nicholas?”

“Yes. I can always call back.”

She sat up, supporting her back against the pillows, while combing her fingers through the hair falling over her forehead. “No, please don’t. I’m sorry, but I’m a little disoriented this morning. I was up all night with a mare that had a difficult foaling. What’s up?” she asked around a yawn.

“First of all. Welcome home. And secondly, someone from your farm delivered an invitation to Sheldon’s birthday party and—”

“Are you coming?” Peyton interrupted.

“Yes.”

Her smile was dazzling. “That’s good!”

It was beyond good. Knowing Nicholas planned to attend her cousin’s surprise birthday celebration was wonderful—for her. It’d been a while since she’d spent more than thirty minutes with Nicholas. The last time had been at the church in West Palm Beach, Florida, where she and Nicholas became godfather and mother for Celia and Gavin’s daughter, Isabel.

That weekend was one she’d wanted to erase from her memory. Anything that could’ve gone wrong did. She’d driven from Tuskegee to the Montgomery Regional Airport to board a flight to West Palm Beach, Florida, but after a three-hour delay the flight was cancelled because of a mechanical problem, and the next flight wasn’t scheduled to leave until the following afternoon; her only alternative was to drive.

More than nine hundred miles and fifteen hours later Peyton pulled into a hotel where she called Celia to let her know she was in Florida, but wouldn’t be able to meet her family for Sunday brunch; she called the front desk to schedule a wakeup call, then fell into a deep dreamless sleep. She made it to the church on time, holding Isabel while she and Nicholas repeated their responses making them godparents, then she was back in her car to make the drive back to Tuskegee.

“Peyton, are you still there?”

Nicholas’s voice pulled her from her musings. “Yes.”

“I’m calling you so I can get an idea of what to give Sheldon. I know he probably has everything he could ever need or want, but I still want to get him something. It’s not every day everyone can celebrate the big six-oh.”

“You’re right about that. Renee, Kelly, Tricia and I are on the planning committee and we hold all of our meetings off the farm. We’re having another session tomorrow, and Renee will probably be able to tell me what Sheldon would like that he doesn’t have.”

“I don’t want to buy something someone may be considering,” Nicholas said.

“Renee told me she’s buying him a new set of golf clubs. Jeremy and Tricia are having a saddle custom-made for him, and Ryan and Kelly are giving him fishing equipment. Between his wife, sons and daughters-in-law that doesn’t leave too many choices for the rest of us.”

“What about the other folks at the farm?” Nicholas asked her.

“I’ve overheard some of the men talking about buying him a bottle of one-hundred-year-old scotch, while the women will probably opt for gift cards.”

“What about you?”

“Sheldon has a collection of aged scotch, bourbon and whiskey, so I’ve been on the internet trying to find antiques shops in the area that carry crystal decanters.”

“I think I can help you out with that.”

“How?” Peyton asked.

“My aunt is an interior designer and she deals directly with antiques dealers. I’m certain she’ll be able to find what you’d like.”

“Can she find something within a week? If not, then I’ll have to look for something else.”

“I’m sure she can. I’ll call her, then call you back. Parris will scan them, download them to me and I’ll forward them to you.”

“Don’t forward it. Call me and I’ll come over to your place to look at them. So far we’ve managed to keep Sheldon in the dark, but I don’t know for how long.”

“Isn’t there an expression that says the only way two people can keep a secret is if one of them died?”

Peyton laughed softly. “You’re right about that. Don’t forget to call me,” she reminded him.

“I won’t. By the way, are you still interested in becoming Cole-Thom’s resident vet?”

“Of course.” It was the reason why she’d returned to Virginia rather than stay on at Tuskegee. The head of the veterinary school was so impressed with her that he’d arranged for a permanent faculty position.

“Even though Dr. Richardson’s contract expires at the end of September I’d like to bring you onboard a little earlier so you can familiarize yourself with the employees and the stock. What day are you free for an orientation?”

“I’m off Tuesday and Wednesday.” They were the only days, barring emergencies, she had to herself.

“Tuesday is good for me,” Nicholas confirmed. “How’s ten o’clock?”

“Ten works for me.”

“Are you certain it won’t cause a problem with Jeremy if you work for me?”

Peyton shook her head, and then realized Nicholas couldn’t see her. “Jeremy and I talked about this before I left for Alabama. Remember, Ryan is the resident veterinarian and I’m his assistant. Blackstone Farms doesn’t need two resident vets.”

“I’ll hire you as long as I don’t get flack from Jeremy.”

“Trust me, Nicholas. You won’t.”

“If that’s the case, then we’ll discuss salary, benefits, housing and perks.”

“Can you give me a hint as to what perks you’re offering?” she asked. His deep laugh caressed her ear.

“Not yet, because I still have to think of a few.”

It was Peyton’s turn to laugh. “Are you going to make me an offer I can’t refuse?”

“That’s my plan. I’ll call you as soon as I hear from my aunt.”

“Thank you, Nicholas.”

“You’re welcome, Peyton.”

Peyton hung up, adjusted the pillows under her shoulders and closed her eyes. To say she was exhausted was an understatement. She’d monitored the pregnant mare on a daily basis once the foal dropped, settling lower in the dam’s belly, predicting it would be another week before foaling. However, it was nearly two weeks before she and Ryan realized that it would become a difficult birth. They’d taken turns sitting up around the clock with Golly Miss Molly. It was after eleven when Peyton told Ryan to go home; she’d planned to assist in the foaling if there were complications; it wasn’t until four o’clock that morning when the mare gave birth to a coal-black colt that was the mirror image of his sire, Shah Jahan. If the colt was anything like his father, then there was no doubt he would also become a winning Thoroughbred.

After making certain the colt was breathing, standing on its own, and nursing within the first hour of life and that the dam had bonded with her foal Peyton finally left the stable to return to her room, showered and fell across the bed. Although exhausted, sleep was slow in coming. She was still operating on pure adrenaline after witnessing the foaling. It was something she didn’t ever want to get used to.

Rising on an elbow, she peered at the clock on the bedside table. It was after nine-thirty. Normally she was out of bed before seven, but today was the exception. She didn’t want to think of the turn her life would’ve taken if she hadn’t gone online at sixteen to research the Blackstone name. Much to her surprise there were Blackstones in Virginia, Tennessee and Ohio. Census records indicated some Blackstones who owned slaves and others that were free people of color. Her father was a descendant of former slaves. Once she’d ascertained that she and the Virginia Blackstones were distant cousins, Sheldon invited her to spend the summer at the farm. It took less than a month for Peyton to change her career choice from nursing to veterinary medicine. And it was during that summer that she’d come to regard Sheldon as her surrogate father and Ryan and Jeremy as her older brothers.

Although she enjoyed working alongside Ryan, Peyton didn’t want to spend the next thirty years as an assistant veterinarian. All thoughts of her past faded as she fell asleep; however, the image of Nicholas’s face drifted in and out of her dreams.

Chapter 7

P
eyton downshifted as she maneuvered up to the gatehouse to Cole-Thom Farms. It had taken less than four hours for Nicholas to contact her with news that his aunt had found a dealer with a collection of fully leaded crystal decanters. She’d been in the stable with Ryan, Golly Miss Molly and her foal when she’d received a text from Nicholas about the decanters.

Leaning out the window, she removed her sunglasses and smiled at the man in the booth as he slid back the window in the air-cooled structure. He reminded her of an aging hippie with his long gray hair and full beard.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Patrick.”

Clinton Patrick squinted over the top of a pair of half glasses at the woman behind the wheel in the red pickup truck. “Dr. Blackstone?”

Peyton took off the wide straw hat with the turned-up brim, placing it on the passenger seat. This year she’d begun wearing hats to protect her face from the damaging rays of the intense summer sun. “Yes, it’s me.”

“Long time no see, Doc.”

“It has been a while,” she agreed.

“The boss told me to expect you.” Clinton punched a button on the console and the electronic gates opened. “Try not to be a stranger,” he said as she shifted into gear.

Peyton wanted to tell him she would no longer be a stranger once she became the farm’s veterinarian. Although all of the owners took the necessary steps to protect millions of dollars in horseflesh, many took additional measures with state-of-the art electronics and armed security personnel. Nicholas’s property was smaller than the others in the region, but the net worth of his stud farm far exceeded several farms in business for generations. Not only did he breed Thoroughbreds and Arabians, but he’d also purchased Lipizzaners and quarter horses.

The trio of chimneys atop the three-story antebellum great house at the end of the live allée came into view as she maneuvered up the incline. A full-height, columned porch wrapping around the front and sides of the spectacular Greek Revival mansion always made Peyton feel as if she’d stepped back in time, because the interiors were as stunning as the expertly manicured, landscaped exterior overflowing with Japanese- and English-styled gardens.

The front door opened, Nicholas walked out onto the porch, and leaned against a column. Her gaze swept over his crisp white shirt with turned-back cuffs, relaxed jeans and boots. She tried to ignore the flutters in the pit of her stomach, while she didn’t want to believe she was lusting after another woman’s man.

Although she’d been at Tuskegee teaching, Peyton hadn’t been that far removed from what had been going on in Virginia’s horse country. She and Tricia exchanged emails several times a week, Tricia keeping her posted on her pregnancy and what she called inane chatter. Her cousin’s wife had also mailed her copies of the local weekly and Peyton felt her heart sink when seeing photographs of Nicholas with Rachel McGhee and occasionally Judge McGhee. The photographer had snapped a picture of the smiling trio at a fund-raiser. All the gossip about him not being seen with a woman had been debunked because it appeared as if he and Rachel were definitely a couple.

She waved to him through the open window. “Where should I park?”

Pushing off the column, Nicholas walked down the porch and came over to the pickup. His eyes met a pair in smoky-gray in a face tanned a golden-brown by the summer sun. Her complexion was reminiscent of a lush, overripe peach. The Peyton he recognized was back. When she’d walked into the church for Isabel’s baptism Nicholas hadn’t been able to believe she was the same woman with whom he’d been transfixed since seeing her for the first time in her cousin’s dining room. Four months ago she’d appeared emaciated. Her eyes were sunken and ringed with dark circles as if she hadn’t slept in weeks.

“Leave your truck here. Someone will pull it around the back.” He opened the driver’s side door, assisting her as she stepped out. “Good afternoon, Professor Blackstone.”

Peyton stared up at Nicholas through a fringe of long charcoal-gray lashes. “Good afternoon, Nicholas,” she said, smiling. “I’m hardly a professor. Adjunct lecturer would be a more appropriate title.”

“Professor, adjunct is nothing more than semantics. You still taught college courses.”

He cupped her elbow. “I’ve missed you.”

She lowered her eyes. “I’ve missed you, too.”

Nicholas found himself captivated by the demure gesture. His hand slipped to the small of her back. “Come inside out of the heat.” He led her into the house and down a narrow hallway off the expansive entryway. “When did you get back?”

“A couple of weeks ago.”

“Didn’t the semester end in May?” He’d asked because it was now mid-August.

“Yes, but I drove up to see my parents. I’d only planned to stay a month, but one month became two, and it would’ve been three if Kelly hadn’t called me about Sheldon’s birthday. I did call Celia before classes ended and told her I was coming to visit with her before driving to New York to see my parents, but I came down with a cold and I didn’t want to get Isabel sick. Spending three months with my folks was therapeutic. The first week I slept around the clock because I hadn’t realized how sleep deprived I was, and eating three meals a day helped me regain the weight I’d lost because my mother is a phenomenal cook.”

“You were
very
thin the last time I saw you. Were you sick then?”

Peyton glanced down at the floor. “No. I...I was just a little run-down.”

Nicholas wanted to believe Peyton when she said she’d been run-down, but it was her hesitation that gave him pause, and because she refused look at him. What, he mused, was she attempting to conceal?

“Cee Cee’s coming up for the Labor Day weekend. She’s not certain whether Gavin will be able to get off to come with her.”

“I haven’t spoken to her in a while, but has she said anything to you about going back to work?” Peyton asked.

Nicholas shook his head. “Not yet. I know she mentioned going back when Isabel’s six months old but Gavin talked her into waiting a year and going back as an on-call E.R. doctor every other weekend.”

“Who’s going to watch Isabella when Celia’s working?” Peyton asked.

“Gavin will probably watch her whenever he’s not working weekends. Otherwise Celia has a neighbor with two young children who’s willing to babysit my niece.”

Peyton quickened her pace to keep up with Nicholas’s longer legs. She was practically running. “Please slow down. Thanks,” she said, smiling when he complied. “When I saw the televised footage of Gavin at a news conference covering the capture of one of America’s most wanted, I couldn’t believe he was an undercover FBI special agent.”

Nicholas laughed softly. “He’d fooled a lot of people, including his wife. Cee Cee had no idea that the man she’d hired to be her personal bodyguard was a federal police officer.”

“I can’t believe he married her while hiding his profession.” Peyton knew she sounded accusatory because of her own experience. Reginald had successfully lived a double life until he missed his safety net.

“He couldn’t because he was working undercover,” Nicholas said in defense of his brother-in-law. He’d discovered who Gavin was, while his sister had been kept in the dark until after her husband completed his assignment. Nicholas’s curiosity had gotten the better of him when he called a family member who worked for the CIA to run a background check on Gavin. When Merrick informed him that information on Gavin Faulkner was classified he knew Gavin was probably a special agent for the ATF, DEA or FBI. Once he mentioned the different agencies Merrick affected a cough when he said FBI. His cousin’s husband had answered his question without verbally breaching Gavin’s confidentiality.

“Celia mailed me a picture of Isabella, and I can’t believe how much she looks like her mother.”

Nicholas stopped outside the door to his office. “The Diaz genes are quite evident in every generation.”

Peyton gave him a questioning look. “Diaz? Don’t you mean Cole?”

He shook his head. “It’s Diaz. Every generation someone inherits my great-grandmother’s dimples and black hair. It’s probably the same with the Blackstones and their gray eyes.”

She laughed. “You’re right. Every one of Sheldon’s children and grandchildren have varying shades of gray eyes, including Jeremy’s son.” Tricia had given birth to a boy, much to the new mother’s relief. After triplets she was fearful of having another multiple birth.

Nicholas stepped aside to let Peyton walk into the office, then followed her, closing the door behind them. He didn’t give her time to react when he rested his hands on her shoulders. He took a step, molding his chest to her back. “I didn’t just miss you, Peyton. I was also worried about you.”

Peyton closed her eyes. The press of Nicholas’s body, the scent of his cologne and his deep drawling voice ignited a longing she’d managed to repress for a year. It was only when she went to bed that the images of their brief encounters flooded her brain, keeping her from a restful night’s sleep. Her dreams were filled with them dancing, posing for wedding photos and the soul-searching kiss they’d shared in the moonlit meadow.

“What were you worried about?”

His hands slipped down her arms to her waist. “When you walked into the church for the baptism you appeared more dead than alive. You looked so fragile I thought you were going to drop my niece. You were there, and then you were gone. And when I asked Celia if she’d seen you she told me you had to get back to Tuskegee for a Monday-afternoon class.”

“I did have to get back.” She turned to face Nicholas. “That was the weekend from hell.” Peyton watched Nicholas’s expression change before her eyes like a snake shedding its skin when she related the circumstances of her marathon drive from Alabama to Florida, and the return drive.

His eyes burned into her. “Why didn’t you call and tell me you couldn’t get a flight?”

She returned his steady stare. “There was nothing you could’ve done, Nicholas.”

The lines of tension bracketing his mouth disappeared when he smiled. “That’s where you’re wrong. My brother would’ve sent the company jet to pick you up and take you back.”

“That’s extreme and excessive when you consider the short distance and the cost of jet fuel.”

Cradling her face, Nicholas kissed Peyton’s forehead. “Wrong again. The pilot’s flight plan included picking up family members in New Mexico, Mississippi, Massachusetts, Virginia and Brazil. I’m certain a stop in Alabama wouldn’t have put him off course.”

A flush darkened her skin further. “I didn’t know,” she whispered.

His smile grew wider. “Now you know. If there’s ever anything you need, and I do mean
anything,
just ask.”

Wrapping her arms around his waist, Peyton rested her head on Nicholas’s shoulder. “So you’re going to become my personal genie. All I have to do is rub you and you’ll grant my wish.” She rubbed his back over the crisp white shirt.

“Yes.”

“How many wishes do I get?”

“As many as you want. I’m the genie that keeps on giving,” he teased. He hadn’t lied to Peyton. It’d taken a year for him to come to the realization that not only had he missed her, but it was her unabashed innocence that elicited a need to protect her.

“Will the genie want something in return?”

Dipping his head, Nicholas buried his face in her hair. It smelled of rain and wildflowers. It was apparent Peyton had changed—inwardly and outwardly. She was more confident, assertive; she also projected a maturity that hadn’t been there a year ago.

“What makes you think I want
something?
Hasn’t anyone helped you without asking for something in return?”

“Sure. Sheldon.”

“He’s family, Peyton. He doesn’t count.”

Easing back, she stepped away, putting distance between them. “Then I don’t know. That’s something I’ll have to think about.”

“Come sit down and look at what my aunt sent me,” Nicholas said, deftly steering the conversation to a neutral topic. There was something about this new Peyton that had him feeling a bit out of control, and he’d almost always prided himself on being in control.

Waiting until she was seated in the chair at the computer workstation, he picked up a chair at a small round table in the corner of the office where he occasionally ate breakfast or lunch and sat next to Peyton. Striking a key, the images for eight decanters appeared on the monitor. They were different shapes, one with a handle, a few enameled or engraved, and several made of cut leaded crystal.

A soft gasp escaped her parted lips. “Wow! They are exquisite!”

Leaning closer, Nicholas inhaled the subtle scent of her perfume. The fragrance was as mysterious as its wearer. What, he mused, was there about her that drew him to her like an invisible wire, pulling him closer and closer when he should run in the opposite direction?

She turned her head, their gazes meeting and fusing. Damn! She’d caught him staring at her instead of the computer screen. A beat passed before she glanced away.

“Which one do you want?” he asked.

Peyton focused her attention on the images. “I like all of them.”

“Then buy all of them.”

Peyton rolled her eyes at him. “Very funny.”

Nicholas smiled. “One has to stand out more than the others, and don’t worry about the price.”

She gave him a long, penetrating stare. “Why not?”

“The price that’s listed won’t be what you’ll have to pay. Now select one.”

“Well, if I have to pick one then it would be the ship’s decanter.” It was fully leaded crystal with a faceted diamond pattern. It was also the most expensive piece.

“Good choice. I’ll call my aunt and let her know. I’ll be certain to tell her to give you the family discount.”

Her features became more animated. “I remember you offering me the family discount before.”

“And the offer still stands—because once you’re hired you’ll officially become a part of the farm family.”

Peyton studied the decanter rather than look at Nicholas. If Cole-Thom was an extended family, then it could be said that Blackstone Farms was a small village. Over the years Sheldon had added an onsite church and school in addition to the dining hall and cottages for resident employees. There were a few single men that lived in a dormitory-styled building. During her absence Jeremy had authorized the construction of a fully functioning equine hospital on several acres of vacant land. Having an onsite hospital eliminated transporting the animals to the nearest hospital miles away and the cost of medical treatment.