Shades of Honor (9 page)

“I'm sorry, honey, but I don't have enough money to buy your baby doll today.”

Rebecca's expression fell and she cast a long, sad look at the doll.

 
“Maybe we can come see her another time, sweetheart.”

Rebecca touched the white blanket that covered the infant, letting her fingertips trail across the cotton softness. “Bye, baby,” she whispered. She gathered her worn blanket and turned away, following Evelyn without a single word of complaint.

Evelyn felt awful, especially since Rebecca accepted the loss as though she were used to going without the things she loved. Other than her blanket, Rebecca had no toys that Evelyn had seen. Where was her doll? Didn’t Radford know that little girls needed things like baby dolls?

Evelyn searched for the items she had left on a pile of ready-made clothing. A small pair of britches caught her eye and she picked them up, thinking how much easier it would be for Rebecca to play in them instead of her dresses.

“Oh, Evelyn, surely you’re not thinking of purchasing those for this precious child?” Agatha Brown asked, stopping beside her and peering down at Rebecca.

Evelyn smiled at the store owner. No, she wasn’t considering it. She would never make Rebecca into a misfit like herself. “I was looking for my jar of molasses.”

“Well, thank goodness,” Agatha said, retrieving Evelyn’s missing jar from between two piles of trousers. “You know how children like to imitate.”

Before Evelyn could reply, the bell over the door rang. Both women glanced up as Radford came in, scanned the store with anxious eyes, then headed directly toward them.

“There you are,” he said, scooping Rebecca into his arms as though he’d been away from her for a year rather than fifteen minutes. “Have you introduced yourself to Mrs. Brown?” he asked, winking at Agatha.

“We haven’t had a chance, young man. Perhaps you can introduce yourself, as well.”

“You don’t remember?” Radford asked with mock surprise. “Well, I used to be your best customer. Remember those delicious molasses cookies you used to sell every Saturday morning?”

The barest hint of pleasure crossed Mrs. Brown’s face. “Why, I haven't baked them in ten years.”

“I'm disappointed to hear that. I moved back to Fredonia just for your cookies.”

A small laugh escaped her. “You just gave yourself away with that Grayson charm.”

Evelyn was astonished by how much younger a simple smile made Mrs. Brown look. Why, if she tried, Agatha might even be pretty.

Radford took Mrs. Brown’s hand. “Radford Grayson, at your service,” he said, bowing slightly, “and this is my daughter, Rebecca.”

 
“Your mother must be thrilled to have you back home.”

“She certainly is,” William said, as he thumped into the store. “How are you, Aggie?”

Agatha’s gaze flew to William. “Since you've finally decided to grace my store, William Tucker, I'd like to know if I’m ever going to see your daughter in anything but britches.”

Though Evelyn suspected Mrs. Brown was tweaking her father, she couldn’t let him be taken to task for her appearance. “I wear a dress every Sunday, Mrs. Brown.”

William tapped his cane on Evelyn’s toe. “I'm old, but I'm still capable of
fightin
' my own battles.” William gave Mrs. Brown a solicitous grin. “Besides, Aggie and I are old sparring partners, aren't we?”

A flicker of amusement flashed in the woman's eyes before it was quickly disguised. “We are nothing of the sort.”

He rubbed his jaw. “
Hmmmm
...I recall being threatened by a frying pan once.”

“You hush your mouth in front of these children!”

William hawed until he swayed on his cane. “I forgot how easy it was to get you in a pucker, Aggie.”

“Let me wrap these for you,” Mrs. Brown said, ignoring Evelyn’s father as she took Evelyn’s items to the counter.

William hobbled over and joined them. “You’re blushing, Aggie.”

Mrs. Brown pursed her lips. Her eyes sparkled and a dimple marked her cheek. “It’s stuffy in here. Maybe I just need some fresh air.”

William drew himself up as if greatly honored. “Are you asking me to stroll the boardwalk with you?”

Mrs. Brown caught her laugh behind her hand. “Not likely.”

Evelyn took her package and exchanged a curious look with Radford. As if he sensed her unease, Radford pointed to a jar on the counter. “I'll take four licorice sticks, please,” he said, placing the necessary coins on the counter.

“It’s been too long, Aggie,” her father said, then gave her a bold wink before Evelyn guided him from the store.

Evelyn climbed in the back while Radford helped her father onto the wagon seat then set Rebecca between them. “You too old to enjoy a good chew, William?”

“Hell, no. It’s been years since I had one of these,” her father said, sticking it in his mouth with a happy grin.

“What’s going on with you and Agatha Brown?” Evelyn asked, but he didn’t answer. She scooted forward and opened her mouth to pursue the question, but Radford filled it with a licorice stick. He wagged his own piece of candy in front of her nose as though shaking a warning finger, then gave Evelyn a knowing wink.

Lord, his eyes were disconcerting at such proximity. It was like coming nose to nose with a tiger. Evelyn felt her whole body flush and wasn't sure if her mouth watered from the candy or the vision in front of her.

Radford handed a licorice to his daughter, but directed his question to Evelyn. “I hope she wasn’t any trouble.”

The reminder of Rebecca walking away from the doll without a peep rent Evelyn's heart. Blast it all! She'd been too caught up in her father's escapade to ask the price of the doll.

“Wait! I forgot something,” she said, vaulting from the wagon then rushing back to Brown and Shepherd’s.

Intrigued by the throaty, enchanting voice coming from the back of the livery, Radford stealthily crept toward the sound. He peered around the edge of a stall and saw Evelyn sitting on a small stool with her back to him, singing softly and poking at something in her lap. After a moment, she lifted her head and raised an open palm toward the stall in front of her.

“Come here, Gus,” she cajoled, her voice so low and alluring that Radford had the sudden, insane urge to do as she bid.

Jolted by the sensual tug of Evelyn’s voice, Radford clenched his fists. It was growing incredibly difficult to perceive Evelyn as a tomboy when he witnessed moments like this. She had a private softness to her manner, a natural grace that emphasized too clearly the woman she'd become in his absence. No wonder Rebecca was drawn to the woman in Evelyn. He certainly was.

A snort from the stall regained Radford's attention and he stared in disbelief as Gus lowered his muzzle into Evelyn's palm. He had been certain the horse was ruined or would take months to rehabilitate, yet Gus was responding to Evelyn after only two weeks. What was it about Evelyn that had such allure? And why the hell did he have to notice?

Radford watched from a distance as Evelyn slowly stood up. The horse shied when her hand neared his recent wound, but she continued the same methodical petting and crooning, running her palms along his sleek coat until he calmed.

Imagining the soothing comfort of Evelyn's hands, roughened from work, yet gentle in her ministrations, made Radford envy the horse. How long had it been since he’d been touched with any affection? Five years now? Not since his affair with Rebecca’s mother, he was sure. Though it had been lust he shared with Olivia Jordon, that base emotion would be welcome right now. Her grand performances in bed had kept the loneliness from swallowing him during his dark nights. Olivia knew exactly how to use her smooth ivory hands to distract him. Too well, he thought dismally, knowing he had been one of many for the beautiful ballerina. She was an artist at making love, posturing seductively, dropping her lashes just enough to look breathless, powdering her skin to the sheen of polished pearls.

Radford had greedily devoured every night of the ten months they'd spent together. Memories of their coupling stirred an ache deep within him, but it was the need to be held by someone that hurt more than the abstinence. It had been so painfully long since he'd felt the comfort of a woman's arms.

Radford dragged his thoughts back to less painful ground as Evelyn sat down on her stool. Silently, he crossed the livery then knelt beside her, willing his hands not to touch the long, thick strand of hair that had come loose from her braid. He was lonely, that was all. That was why he was drawn to Evelyn. Her compassion touched everyone, and the wounded couldn’t help but respond.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Evelyn let out a small yelp of surprise. “You have a bad habit of scaring me, Radford!”

He smiled, thinking of the many times in the past four weeks he’d startled her just by being in the livery. She’d been used to working alone and still seemed surprised when he made a noise or appeared from around a corner, which was often now that they were actually getting some customers each day. Though Evelyn had been courteous, Radford could sense she was still uncomfortable with him.

“What’s that for?” he asked, glancing at the material in her lap.

“I’m sewing. I need something to do that won’t distract Gus, and this forces me to get my mending done.”

 
“Does the singing help?”

Evelyn wrinkled her nose. “It's awful, but it gets Gus used to my voice. It seems to soothe him.”

She had a wonderful voice, but was delightfully modest. “Gus seems to be coming around.”

“Oh, he is,” Evelyn said, her emerald eyes fairly dancing with excitement. “Yesterday, he took an apple right from my hand. Today he's going outside for a while.”

When her smile reached her eyes, Radford was stunned by her beauty and had to struggle not to stare. “I don't think we'll get anything around Gus’s neck without undoing your progress,” he said, telling himself he needed to start spending his evenings helping Kyle on his house as he’d planned to do until he realized that Rebecca wouldn’t let him leave the house at night.

“I'm not using anything to get Gus outside. If you want to help, open the gate when you see me leave the barn, but do it slowly so you don't frighten him.”

Recognizing a perfect opportunity to put some distance between himself and Evelyn, Radford went outside to finish his chores.

It was some minutes later when Evelyn placed her stool several feet outside the door. Baffled, Radford laid down the shovel he’d been using to dig up a tree root, then moved to the gate to await her signal. To his growing confusion, Evelyn sat down and went on sewing and singing as though sipping tea in a parlor with the queen herself. Several minutes later, Gus tentatively poked his nose out of the open doorway.

Radford watched in amazement as the horse eventually moved into the sunshine. For every couple of steps the horse took toward her, Evelyn quietly moved the stool that distance away until, after several minutes, she was sitting in the middle of the paddock and Gus had followed her in through the open gate.

Radford closed it gently behind the stallion and shook his head as he watched the horse wander over to the wheelbarrow full of hay and begin nibbling. Admiration for Evelyn's ingenuity gave way to more appreciative thoughts and he found himself studying her as she carried the stool to the edge of the paddock, striding with inherent grace despite her baggy clothing.

There was nothing rusty or halting about Evelyn, nothing overdone or exaggerated. She reminded him of the willows that grew along the pond's edge, tall, lithe, and unadorned as they swayed with the wind, so unlike the fussy wildflowers that preened and flailed in the slightest breeze.

She was the exact opposite of Olivia's bright, affected beauty. Where Rebecca’s mother had been seductive and hot, Evelyn was sleek and cool. Her cheeks were
rosed
by fresh air and sun, rather than rouged with the powders Olivia had used. Evelyn’s hair resembled midnight mink and Radford remembered how beautiful it looked unbound. Suddenly, he couldn’t remember what he had found so erotically appealing in Olivia's auburn locks.

The contrasts between the women were intriguing, but it bothered Radford that he was becoming preoccupied with them. What did it matter that Evelyn exuded a natural beauty that Olivia never possessed? It wasn’t for him to notice. He shouldn’t be thinking about Evelyn at all.

Turning away to break the path of his thoughts, Radford sighed in relief when he spied Rebecca. “There you are,” he said, watching her walk out the back door of the barn, trailing a stick in the dirt behind her. She stopped and swirled it in the soil Radford had dug up from around the stump. “What are you doing, sprite?”

She shrugged. “Making pictures.”

Radford grinned as she moved away, then he went back to digging the tree stump. From time to time, he would look for Rebecca, who was wandering nearby, drawing in the dirt or trailing her stick along the side of the barn. As the afternoon wore on, Radford grew hot and impatient with the stubborn stump and turned his attention to hacking it from its dogmatic grip on the earth.

 
 
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