Shades of Honor (36 page)

Kyle barely managed to keep from raising his eyebrows. Though Catherine had been married to Richard’s father, and was now the man’s widow, she was only seven years older than Kyle and Richard, and far from the typical image of a stepmother. She was voluptuous, sensuous, and kindhearted, a combination that would turn any man’s head.

She’d certainly caught Kyle’s attention the first time he’d stopped by her house to fill her wood bin. Richard’s father had just suffered a fatal fall, and after the funeral, Richard had returned to law school, leaving his stepmother’s welfare in the hands of his two uncles who owned the bank. Knowing Richard’s uncles hadn’t approved of their brother’s young wife, and that they wouldn’t bother themselves overmuch on Catherine’s behalf, Kyle did what any good friend would do. He made sure Richard’s stepmother had wood for her stove, a carpenter to finish installing the second-story floor that her husband had fallen from, and a shoulder to cry on when she’d needed one. Kyle had never suspected she would want more than that.

Richard drained his glass and set it on the bar. “I’m relieving my uncles of their obligation to help provide for Catherine, and in exchange, they’re making me a partner at the bank. Eventually they’ll let me buy out their interest.”

“Then you’re staying in Fredonia?” Kyle asked, as a burst of pleasure filled his chest. Other than the
comradery
of his three brothers, Kyle had been too busy to maintain a regular friendship with anyone. But Richard was more like a brother than a friend. He wouldn’t take offense at Kyle’s inconsistent visits or plain talk. Kyle could cater to his sawmill rather than his friendship with Richard, just as he would expect Richard to do with his banking business, and yet their friendship would remain solid.

Thunder rattled the windows as Richard ordered another round of drinks. “I’m returning to Philadelphia in the morning to settle some issues, but I’ll be back for good in a week or so.” He angled an inquisitive look at Boyd. “I can arrange a loan for you before I leave, if you’re in need of one.”

A smirk of appreciation lit Boyd’s face. “Would you really negotiate a loan in the middle of a gin mill?”

“Hell yes! I’ve negotiated some of my biggest deals while drinking cheap whiskey with expensive women.” A grin crossed Richard’s face. “Who needs an office?”

Boyd’s dark brows lifted in appreciation. “How much law would I need to know in order to handle contracts like that?”

Richard’s laugh shot across the bar and he raised his glass to salute Boyd. He drank deeply then turned to Kyle, “Are you going to invest in Boyd’s venture?”

“Of course not,” Kyle said without hesitation, earning a snort from Boyd. But Kyle didn’t care. They’d damn near killed themselves building their father’s tiny mill into a thriving business that presently supported twenty men and their families, and no matter how Boyd protested, he was as bound to the depot as Radford, Kyle, and Duke were. That Boyd didn’t understand that bond exasperated Kyle.

Richard tossed several coins on the bar to pay for the drinks Pat Lyons had delivered, then he clapped a hand on Boyd’s shoulder. “Looks like you’ll have to stick with the mill business awhile longer. Hell, if the deposit Tom Drake made this evening is any indication of what you mill owners make, I think I’ll give up banking and come work for you or Tom.”

Kyle’s chin jerked up and his back went rigid. For three months Tom Drake had been telling Kyle he didn’t have the money to pay him for the large section of timber Kyle had sold to him. Out of consideration for their friendship, Kyle had tried not to press Tom about the money. But now that Kyle’s new saw was on the way, he needed the money, and that’s exactly why he had been going to see Tom in the damned rain.

“I would appreciate it if you’d forget you heard that,” Richard said sheepishly. “Tom wouldn’t appreciate me letting that slip.”

No, he wouldn’t, because Richard’s slip had just confirmed Kyle’s suspicion of Tom’s betrayal. It didn’t take a genius to realize that Tom had been purposely trying to keep Kyle from expanding his mill.

Kyle stood up and clapped his hat over his damp hair. “I have to go.”

Richard glanced toward the window where rain streamed down the glass panes and lightning flashed across the dark sky. “Only a fool would go out in this, Kyle. Let the storm pass, then you and Boyd can join me at home for supper. Catherine would love to see you. She says it’s been ages since you’ve been by the house.”

Kyle struggled to mask his surprise. It had been only two weeks, but the last thing he wanted was to sit at the supper table with Catherine under Richard’s watchful eye. Richard had always been doting and protective of Catherine. He would kill Kyle if he knew he’d been making occasional visits to her bed for the past four years.

“Thanks for the invitation, Richard, but I have business to take care of tonight. We’ll get together when you return from Philadelphia.”

Richard offered his hand to Kyle. “I’ll let you beg off tonight, but only if you promise you’ll come for supper when I get back.”

Unable to decline without casting suspicion on himself or Catherine, Kyle shook Richard’s hand, then bolted out the door and escaped into the lashing wind.

 
Rain streamed down his neck in cold rivulets as he mounted his horse and headed toward
Laona
, a small hamlet perched on the southeastern edge of Fredonia. Buildings loomed like shadows in the early evening, then sprang to life as whitish-blue streaks of lightning snaked around them. Sharp cracks of thunder startled his horse, but Kyle rode on, his anger growing bone deep as he passed by his own sawmill on Liberty Street.

Fierce Grayson pride had served Kyle for years. It had helped him live through his father’s death, the hard struggle of building a small lumber empire with his three brothers, and watching the woman he’d planned to marry take her vows with his eldest brother instead of himself. Despite the pain and setbacks, Kyle had survived. He’d been hardened by the experiences, but they had made him wiser. Dealing with his problems head-on had made him a successful and respected businessman. He wasn’t about to start dancing around the truth at this point in his life. Not even for Tom Drake.

It took him half an hour to ride to Tom’s mill on
Shumla
Road, but the cold rain hadn’t diluted Kyle’s anger or washed away the ache of betrayal in his chest. Though the crew was gone and the saws were silent, Tom’s mill was alive with the storm. Thunder rumbled to Kyle’s left, then several streaks of blinding white light ripped open the sky with brilliant
razorlike
fingers. His gelding shied, but Kyle lifted his face to the wild, snapping air and inhaled the energy of the storm.

Beneath the anger, raw pain pulsed through his veins. He’d trusted Tom. Five years of friendly competition, of coexisting profitably in a plentiful lumber market, and their shared delight in going nose to nose on big orders like the railroad contract had garnered respect and admiration for each other as well as a deep bond of honor Kyle would have died to protect. But Kyle no longer knew what to expect from a man he’d thought was his friend.

Faint light glimmered from Tom’s office window just as Kyle had expected. Tom had taught him that any owner worth his sawdust maintained his books as meticulously as his saws, so Kyle had followed Tom’s example by reconciling his books and preparing his bids before leaving his mill each evening. If not for the need to collect money from Tom, Kyle would be at his own desk instead of leaving his work unfinished.

Kyle dragged in a breath of moist air and tried to calm himself, to think clearly—and give Tom the benefit of doubt, one last time.

He backhanded the rain from his eyes and entered the office where Jeb Kane, Tom’s mill foreman, was leaning against a tall wooden file cabinet covered with a sundry of saw parts. Kyle had known Jeb nearly as long as he’d known Tom and had always admired the man.

Tom glanced up in surprise, then a smile of welcome filled his face. “What the hell are you doing out in this storm?”

Kyle didn’t return the smile and Tom’s expression flattened.

“Good God, what happened?”

“Nothing, Tom. I just need to talk to you.”

Tom pressed his fist to his heart. “From the look on your face, I thought someone had died. My heart’s jumping like a bullfrog. What’s so damned important that you would plow through this rain and scare ten years off my life?”

“I need the money for that section of pine you bought from me. It’s been three months.”

Tom’s gaze locked with Kyle’s. “Jeb and I were just discussing that problem. My saw broke down again last week and it set me back a bit. Can you give me another couple of weeks?”

Even though Kyle suspected he was being railroaded, he couldn’t force a negative response from his mouth. “I’ll need it soon. I ordered another saw for my mill.”

“I heard. I’m sorry about holding you up like this.”

“Are you?”

Tom’s brows furrowed. “What are you driving at, son?”

At one time being called son had made Kyle feel less alone, now it made him angry that Tom’s greed was breaking that bond between them. “This is the third time you’ve put me off. I’m beginning to think you want to stop me from expanding my business.”

Tom’s chin jerked up as if Kyle had punched him. “Would you like me to forget you just said that?”

“I’d like you to be honest with me.”

Tom’s eyes darkened. “Have you ever known me to lie?”

“No,” Kyle answered honestly. “Nor have I ever known you to renege on a deal. But you’re holding me back and I want to know if it’s intentional. Is my mill getting too big for your comfort?”

Tom’s face flamed and he pointed at the door. “Go back outside and let the rain beat some sense into your head before I’m tempted to do it myself.”

In a physical match Kyle could have taken both Tom and Jeb, who were at least twenty years his senior, but regardless how upset he felt about Tom’s betrayal, Kyle could never harm either of the men he considered friends. “I want to know why you’re playing this game with me.”

Tom slammed his fist on his desk, his body visibly shaking. “This isn’t a game, just a damned embarrassment I have to live with.”

Jeb moved toward the desk. “Calm down, Tom. Doc Finlay warned you about getting upset.”

“The hell with Doc Finlay!” Tom pointed a shaking finger at Kyle. “You listen to me, young man. Your father and I tangled over every stand of timber in this county for twenty years while we built our mills, but we
never
cheated each other. We played fair and never doubted each other’s word no matter how tense the competition got between us. We even managed to become good friends through all of that.” Tom grimaced and leaned his fists on his desk. His arms shook and he gulped in deep breaths, but he continued in a harsh, strained voice. “When your pa died, I treated you like my own son and taught you how to survive in this business. How can you stand here and tell me I’m trying to cheat you?”

Shame filled Kyle. Tom
had
shown Kyle how to keep his family sawmill from going under. While Radford had been too tormented by his war memories to stay and help Kyle with their family sawmill, Kyle had shouldered the responsibility of supporting his mother and two younger brothers. He’d managed it by working hard and running the mill with an iron fist. He’d survived because Tom had shown him how.

“
Dammit
, Kyle,” Tom whispered, swaying over his desk. “I can’t do this now. I’m not...feeling well.”

Kyle and Jeb sprang forward together, but neither of them reached Tom before he collapsed on the floor with his fists pressed to his chest. They knelt beside him, but when Kyle felt Tom’s heaving chest, panic filled his own. “Take my horse and go for the doctor!” Kyle commanded, so used to being in charge that he issued the order without a second thought. “Hurry!”

Jeb jerked to his feet and raced out the door, leaving Kyle with his own heart thundering, and a fervent prayer that his gelding would sprout wings and fly for help.

Tom’s gaze locked on Kyle. “I...helped you.”

“I know. I’m sorry I pushed you about the money, Tom. I shouldn’t have doubted you. I wasn’t thinking.” Kyle stared at his friend, feeling helpless in the face of Tom’s struggle. “You could have used your experience against me all those years ago,” he said, using his voice to keep Tom conscious and focused on something other than his pain. “Instead, you made me a good businessman. You challenged me to educate myself and compete with you man to man. I’ve always meant to repay you for that. I’ve just never known how.”

Tom gritted his teeth and panted. Sweat beaded his forehead. “Take care of Victoria...and Amelia.”

“Of course. Until you’re on your feet again.”

Tom’s face grew pale, but his gaze stayed locked on Kyle. “My daughter . . .”

“Amelia is fine,” Kyle assured him, knowing the pretty schoolmarm would be safely tucked in her room behind the little white schoolhouse in
Laona
at this time of the evening.

“She needs a...husband.”

“She needs
you
, Tom. So does your wife. Jeb will be back with the doctor soon. Just stay calm until they get here.”

“M-marry her.”

Kyle snorted at the ridiculous notion of him marrying any woman. Despite Amelia’s drab teacher’s garments, she was tall and slender with thick chestnut colored hair that made his hands itch to pluck the pins from her prim chignon. Kyle would never forget the one kiss he had stolen from Amelia at her father’s lumberyard years earlier, but he had suffered enough heartache for a lifetime and had no interest in pursuing a personal relationship with
any
female. Not even one as gorgeous as Amelia Drake. Bachelorhood suited him perfectly.