His Honour, Her Family

“What happened to us?” she whispered.

They’d gotten along until the years after their father was incarcerated. Everyone blamed Grace but didn’t balk when she’d taken over as the adult of the family. Faith had acted out and Nathan, well, it took time, but he finally decided to follow in their father’s footsteps by engaging in questionable endeavors—not exactly illegal but definitely straddling the fence—hoping for a payout that never materialized. Lately, she dreaded coming home, always anxious about how her siblings would greet her. With a pang, Grace realized this was probably why Faith stayed away when Grace was in town.

“Gracie, come on in here,” her mother called.

Replacing the picture, Grace squared her shoulders. Her heels echoed on the wood floor as she joined her mother.

“Faith said hello,” her mother informed her as soon as she entered the room.

“I hope I get to see her while I’m here,” Grace said, truly meaning it. The sisterly bond had been strong until they were in their teens. Faith, willful even then, accused Grace of trying to mother her. Grace had heard “You’re not the boss of me” too many times to count.

It all came to a head one night when the girls were in high school. Grace had warned Faith about a party her sister wanted to attend. It was all over school that there would be alcohol. Their mother, in bed with the covers over her head, didn’t have any opinion one way or the other if Faith went, so Grace stepped in, and, after an argument, forbade Faith from leaving the house. Which went over like a lead balloon. They yelled at each other, Faith calling Grace bossy and uptight, saying that no one wanted to be her friend. Grace tried to explain she didn’t want Faith to get hurt. She recognized that the kids Faith had been hanging out with were nothing but trouble, but she couldn’t convince Faith.

Faith sneaked out anyway and proceeded to get drunk. The cops busted the party and hauled the kids to the police department, mostly to scare them straight. Grace came to get her sister, thankful no charges were filed, and even though she never said I told you so, things were never the same between them. The sad truth was, Grace wanted to be Faith’s sister, not her handler, but it hadn’t worked out that way.

“She said she’s—”

Grace held up a hand. “I know, busy.”

Her mother averted her eyes.

“So if you’re okay, I’m going to take off.” Grace swallowed the thickness in her throat, picking up her purse from the sofa cushion. “I need to stop by the grocery store before heading to the cabin.”

“I don’t know why you won’t stay here,” her mother fussed. “I have a perfectly good spare room.”

That was never going to happen. She’d stayed here last night and once was enough. After she had come in late from a long day of trying to figure out what was going on at Put Your Feet Up, her mother had filled her in on the local gossip before switching topics to cover what Grace could do while she was home. Eventually, she’d fallen asleep on the couch, waking the following morning with a crick in her neck and the guilt from the past weighing her down. If she had to stay in Golden, she needed her space or she’d go crazy, so the family cabin would be her refuge.

“Faith’s kids use the bedroom when they come over. And Nathan will be back, eventually. Besides, I don’t plan on being in town forever. Once you’re feeling better, you can take over at the office.”

“I don’t know. These painkillers make me woozy.”

“You’ll be off them soon enough.”

Her mother picked at a snagged piece of yarn hanging from her sweater sleeve.

Bending over, Grace placed a kiss on her mother’s cheek. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“I’ll be here,” came the terse reply.

Grace had just made it to the front door when her mother stopped her. “Wait. I forgot to ask. Did you hire the man who came to the office today?”

Turning, she said, “Yes, despite not running his references first.”

“Myrna down at the coffee shop said he stopped in and is just the most polite young man.”

“You’re going by her word?”

“I’ve known Myrna and Delroy for twenty-five years. They wouldn’t steer me wrong.”

“Maybe not, but I still put in a request to speak to HR at his job.”

“Last job, you mean?”

“No, current. Sort of. He’s on a leave of absence.”

Her mother frowned. “Odd.”

“He works for the Georgia Bureau of Investigation.”

Wide-eyed, her mother gasped. Yeah, cops weren’t a favorite in this house since Daddy’s arrest. “Tell him never mind.”

“I will do no such thing. I hired him on your say-so. We need help and he looks more than capable for the job.”

Capable was an understatement. More than once this afternoon she’d pictured him, broad shoulders, blue-gray eyes that captivated and drew her in, wondering who he was and what had happened in his life to bring him to her door. Or why her heart sped up when he smiled. Those dimples. Yikes. Then, just as quickly, she chastised herself for thinking about him. She wasn’t in the market for a romance, no matter how handsome he was. Besides, she worked with lots of handsome men, she reasoned, even as an inner voice said, Yeah, but they’ve never affected you this way.

“But Gracie...”

“No buts, Mama. Unless he’s done something heinous, he stays.”

Her mother crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. It was all Grace could do not to laugh. “If you don’t like my decisions you can return to the office and take over.”

Wanda Sue dropped her arms. “Fine. He’ll do.”

“That’s what I thought.” She softened her voice. “Keep your phone nearby, okay? I love you, Mama.”

“I love you, too, Gracie.”

As she stepped outside, a breeze chilled her skin. She tugged her lightweight jacket closer. The month of May could still be cool in Golden, especially as the late-afternoon sun lowered in the sky, although it was beginning to stay lighter longer in the day now. She glanced at her watch and hustled to her car. She had enough time to hit the store and make it up to the cabin before dusk.

After power walking the small local grocery, she drove the five miles north of town to Golden Cabins. Her uncle Roy still owned and maintained the fifteen structures while the Put Your Feet Up office booked the rentals. This afternoon Grace had reserved the last available unit—the family cabin—just in time. By the end of the upcoming three-day holiday weekend, the vacation season would officially be under way.

She pulled off the main drag to the entrance. A wooden sign with bright gold letters welcomed guests. Gradually, the pavement receded to gravel and dirt. At the fork she turned left, leading her to the two cabins the family owned and used personally. Uncle Roy lived in one, and Grace’s family used the other, renting it when it wasn’t occupied. The rest of the rental units were to the right of the fork, away from the family. Spread out across ten acres, all the cabins had access to Golden Lake, which was within walking distance. Worn paths lined the property from years of tourists meandering through the majestic woods. At the very center of the property, where the river emptied into the lake, nature lovers could find a small waterfall. Even though Grace wasn’t much for the outdoors after an ill-fated camping trip in high school, the falls were her most favorite spot on the entire planet.

With the window down and cool air rustling her hair, the ground crunched under the car tires until she pulled up to the dark cabin and parked. Removing her groceries, she noticed Uncle Roy’s place was dark, too. He’d mentioned something about fishing until the guests arrived, so he still had a few days away.

Juggling her keys and groceries, she moved through the screened porch and unlocked the front door, then swiped the wall until her hand connected with the light switch. A bright overhead fixture illuminated the living room. Kicking the door closed with her foot, Grace carried the bags to the small kitchen and dropped them on the counter, then switched on another light before tossing her purse on the table and putting away the food that needed refrigeration. Once done, she opened the window to usher in the clean air. Her uncle had been gone when she’d called so the cabin hadn’t been aired out. It still retained that closed-up smell.

She’d just opened the living room window and kicked off her shoes when the sound of shattering glass jolted her. Curious, she hurried to the window and peered outside. Only the hazy twilight greeted her. Shaking her head, she turned to go into the bedroom to change when she heard a loud thump. This time she went to the door and opened it.

The waning sun disappeared behind the mountains, causing shadows to linger over the densely wooded area surrounding the cabins. Just enough light flittered through the tree branches for her to catch sight of a particular shadow on the far side of her uncle’s cabin.

She watched for a beat. Just as she was about to go back inside, she noticed a flicker of movement. Could it be a raccoon getting into mischief? Highly likely. She held her breath. Waited. Sure enough, the elusive movement caught her eye again. She blinked just to be sure, but something had stirred out there. She was certain of it.

Enough was enough.

She rushed straight to the utility closet in the kitchen and grabbed the best weapon she could wield, a broom. Yes, she was going next door to give those critters a piece of her mind. She’d sneak over and scare the party animals back into the woods where they belonged.

Holding the broom handle in a firm grasp, Grace detoured to her bedroom for a pair of flat shoes, then stormed through the screen door, down the steps and...stopped. What was she missing? Oh, yeah, a flashlight. She retraced her steps to find one, then came back outside. After the day she’d had, she was ready to do battle.

The air had cooled even more since she’d been inside. Shivering, she gulped in several deep breaths of pine-scented air, debating the wisdom of her actions as the night grew darker. She rounded the corner of the cabin, heard a thud and a deep groan.

Okay, that was no animal. A burglar?

Quickly turning, she began running back to her cabin to call for help, something she should have done from the start, when she collided with a solid human body.

* * *

DEKE GRUNTED AT exactly the same time the woman who’d barreled into him screamed.

“Hold it,” he yelled, hands outstretched as he saw an object moving toward his head. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

The woman took a step back, brandishing her weapon in defensive mode before her.

“How do I know that?”

He recognized that voice. “Miss Harper?”

The broom lowered. A click, then a sudden flash of bright light blinded him.

“Mr. Matthews?” she asked as she aimed the flashlight directly at his face. “What are you doing here?”

“Trying to get into this cabin.” He squinted against the harsh light. “Mind lowering that thing?”

“Oh, right.” She moved the beam to the ground. “I didn’t see a car when I pulled up.”

“I parked around back.”

“I’m confused. My uncle lives here.”

“He rented the cabin to me. I’ve been trying to find the key but it’s not where he said he left it.” Deke cradled his left hand. First he’d dropped a heavy planter on it while hunting for the key, then he’d knocked into a patio table. His fingers throbbed. He felt moisture and suspected he was bleeding.

“It’s usually under the plant,” his soon-to-be boss said.

“There’s more than one in the back.”

“No. It should be here in the front.”

“I just looked.”

She turned the light to the front porch, skipping over the large decorative planters to a small potted plant situated beside the steps.

“He said planter.”

“Probably he just said plant.”

She walked over, tipped the pot and sure enough, the light hit on a shiny silver key. She grabbed it and held it up. “See.”

“I could have sworn he said planter.”

“He’s out fishing and when he’s off by himself he usually chews tobacco. Maybe you misunderstood him.” She held out the key. When he reached for it, she angled the light on his hand and gasped. “You’re bleeding.”

“Yeah,” he said as the aftereffect of his inept search grew increasingly painful.

She took hold of his arm. “C’mon.”

“Where are we going?”

“To my place. I have bandages.”

“I’m okay, really. Now that I have the key I’ll go inside and clean up.”

Tugging on his arm, she said, “No way. I couldn’t in good conscience let my newest employee bleed out.”

“I’m hardly in danger of bleeding out.”

“But we don’t know that since it’s dark and we can’t properly see the damage.”

Ignoring his protest, she dragged him across the property to a matching cabin. She had him inside in seconds flat, pointing left. “This way to the kitchen.”

“Are you always this bossy?”

“Mostly.”

In the bright light he could now see a gash across his palm. Two of his fingers were turning a faint purple.

“Goodness, what did you do?”

“I lost my balance when the planter fell on my hand and I bumped into the patio table. It toppled over and I cut myself on the edge of the glass top.”

She took his hand, studied it for a second, then nudged him to the sink. “Rinse that off,” she commanded, then disappeared. Moments later she reappeared with boxes of bandages, hydrogen peroxide, a small tube of what he guessed was some sort of salve and whatever else an injured man needed.

“Is it deep?” she asked as she dumped the supplies on the counter. “Should we go to the emergency room?”

He winced as the warm water trickled over the cut. “I don’t think so.”

“Any glass in it?”

“Not that I can see.”

She took hold of his hand again. “Sure you don’t need stitches?”

He tried not to be insulted. Stitches? For a medium-sized cut? “A butterfly will do.”

She glanced up at him. “You’re trying to act all manly, aren’t you?”

“I am manly. And like I told you at the office earlier, I know first aid. A butterfly should be fine.”

She fished through the box to find the bandage. “If you say so.”

“Mind getting me a towel?” he asked when a thin line of red still ran off his hand.

She opened a drawer and pulled out a towel. He took it and covered his palm.

“That’s going to hurt tomorrow,” she informed him.

“It hurts right now.”

She grinned. “Not so manly after all?”

He ignored the teasing.

Once his hand was dry, he lifted the towel to find the blood welling over the cut, but not gushing. He applied pressure again while she opened the bottle of peroxide. “This is going to sting,” she warned.

“I know, but the cut needs to be cleaned.” He removed the towel and braced himself. “Anytime you’re ready.”

Grace lowered his hand over the sink and poured. The muscle in his jaw jumped, but that was all the satisfaction he’d give her after she’d insulted his manliness. Yes, it hurt like crazy but he sucked in a deep breath.

“Sorry,” she said.

“Uh-huh,” he grunted.

Finished, she grabbed another towel and placed it over the cut. “Give that a few seconds to work and I’ll place the bandage.”

While she tidied up, Deke blew out a breath and rested his hip against the counter. With the worst part over, he now noticed his boss’s blond hair glow under the harsh kitchen lighting. Her fair skin attested to her not personally leading the outdoor tours. He was intrigued by the softness that was in direct contrast to her very take-control attitude.

“So,” he said, “you’re a nurse, too?”

“No, but after years of working with vacation clients, I know first aid.”

“Makes sense.” He lifted the towel, glad to see the bleeding was minimal. “Let’s get the bandage on now.”

Grace unwrapped the butterfly and within seconds had it secure. Blood seeped around it.

“Still needs pressure.”

Grabbing a box of gauze, she unrolled a long length and wrapped it around his palm with enough pressure to stanch any more blood flow. She tied it off, then looked up at him, a smile of victory curving her lips.

Their gazes met and held. A ripple of awareness took him by surprise. Yeah, he’d noticed how pretty his new boss was when he’d applied for the job, but this? This was a feeling he hadn’t felt in far too long. He blinked as he tried to get his wayward thoughts under control. Her smile faded and she slowly backed away.

“Um, that should do for now,” she said in a crisp tone as she packed away the supplies. “I suggest you see a doctor tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” he said, striving to get his voice under control. “For everything.”

She nodded and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He inhaled a decidedly floral scent. Cherry blossom? Even her perfume suited her.

“I should get going,” he finally said.

“Right.” Grace led him to the door. “Sorry about nearly clobbering you in the head. I thought you were a raccoon. Or worse, a burglar.”

“Serves me right for making a racket.”

She tilted her head. “You’re not very good at breaking and entering.”

He grinned and silence hovered between them again.

“I should probably go get settled,” he said again.

“Look, you don’t have to come in tomorrow,” she said, glancing down at his bandaged hand.

“It’s okay. I’d like to learn about the company and find out what kinds of tours you have scheduled.”

She nodded. “Then I’ll bring the coffee. It’s the least I can do.”

“Thanks, Miss Harper.”

“I think after tonight’s events, you can call me Grace.”

“Deke.”

“I remember.”

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow, Grace.”

She opened the door. “If you don’t feel well during the night, don’t hesitate to come over and wake me up.”

“I can handle this.”

“Then have a good night.”

He nodded again and stepped outside to make his way to the cabin. As he walked across the loose gravel, then the damp grass, his eyes lit on a firepit between the two cabins, visible in the moonlight. The cool night air felt good on his heated face.

Dipping his good hand into his jeans pocket to remove the key he’d slid there after Grace had found it, he unlocked the door. He turned on the light switch and made his way around, familiarizing himself with his temporary home. When he’d finished, he went outside to bring in his duffel from the back of the Jeep Wrangler. By now, his head ached along with his hand. He found pain reliever in the bathroom, popped two and finally sank down on the couch in the living room.

Blowing out a breath, he muttered, “Great first impression, Matthews.”

Getting cut might temporarily throw a snag in his plans, but thankfully Miss Harper—Grace—hadn’t told him he was fired before he started.

Grace. Even the name suited her. She was tough and caring, a surprising combination that he’d do well not to let get the better of him. He was here to lose himself in work, not notice his new boss.

CHAPTER THREE

THE NEXT MORNING, the rich scent of freshly brewed coffee greeted Deke as he walked into the office. Just what he needed after a miserable night of tossing and turning. His palm had throbbed, despite the pain relievers. After staring at the ceiling for hours, he’d gotten up at dawn to take a much-needed run through the woods. No sleep meant his mind was too busy obsessing over things he didn’t have the power to change, mainly Britt’s senseless death.

When he’d made his way along the path that skirted his side of the lake before veering off to the woods, he’d gotten his heart rate high enough that all he concentrated on was breathing. He’d returned to the cabin, soaking wet and winded, then cleaned up the mess he’d made on the back patio. He couldn’t deny that the incredible scenery, tall pines and the water lapping the dank soil beside the lake, calmed his spirit. More so than Atlanta or even his childhood home in Florida. He needed to get his head in the game, not keep dwelling on the past. His brothers were depending on him to find information on James Tate and he was determined to carry through.

Grace was on the phone but pointed to the cup waiting for him on the counter. As he removed the lid, a burst of steam escaped before he took his first slug of the morning. Inwardly sighing, he hoped the caffeine would soon do its magic.

“Yes, sir, we have available openings for that date.” A frown pinched her pretty face. “I can’t promise that Nathan will be leading the group, but I will certainly put him as your first choice. Thanks so much for booking with Put Your Feet Up vacations.”

She jotted a few notes before looking up. “We’re getting busy.”

“Good to hear.”

She took her soda can and rose from the desk. Again, she’d dressed in a power suit. Yeah, he recognized one when he saw it. Today she wore a navy waist-length jacket and pants, with a white blouse. High-heeled pumps completed the look. Since he didn’t have to dress professionally for this job, he’d chosen a T-shirt, jeans and boots for comfort over presentation.

“How’s the hand this morning?” she asked, nodding in that direction.

“Better.” He’d tended to it when he got back from the run, happy the cut wasn’t going to give him problems and that the bruised fingers were no worse than last night. “Not as deep as you would have thought.” He held up his palm. “Just a large bandage today.”

“Good. I felt really bad about what happened.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“No, but it is my uncle’s place.”

“Serves me right for fumbling around in the dark.”

She sized him up. “Why don’t I think that’s the case?”

“What do you mean?”

“I doubt you’re the type that fumbles around. You came in here yesterday knowing exactly what you wanted and didn’t back down.” She took a sip of her drink, then said, “Somehow you made arrangements with my uncle to rent his place, which rarely happens. What are you, some kind of wizard?”

He chuckled at the suggestion. “More like a fact finder. I research, then apply the knowledge. In this case, Golden jobs and rentals.”

“Hmm. A very cerebral approach to things.”

“Guilty as charged.” He took another bracing gulp of his coffee. “So, care to fill me in on the inner workings of the vacation business?”

“For your research?”

“If you want me to do a good job.”

She lifted the hinged section of the counter and waved him into the office area. “I made some notes,” she said as he passed by.

There was that cherry scent again. It seemed to have taken hold of his senses. Shaking off the notion that Grace was the one to conjure some sort of sorcery, he took a seat beside the desk and waited for her to get started.

She set her can aside and with nimble fingers took a printed paper from the top of the desk. “I pulled together a schedule. Memorial Day weekend is usually swamped with guests at the cabins, but most families do their own thing. I have two hikes scheduled for Saturday, a canoeing session on Sunday and a group zip-lining on Monday.” She pulled a map from the folder, circling an area in red. “The hikes will be relatively easy. They’re both at the same park, Crystalline Falls. It’s a gradually inclining path from the footbridge up to the falls. Beautiful scenery. About a mile up and back.”

“I passed the entrance to the park when I was driving around town the other day. I’ll head out there later and check it out.”

“Since it’s Thursday, you have time to familiarize yourself with the terrain.”

“Got it. Sunday’s excursion?”

“Canoeing on Golden Lake. It’s a bit tricky. Boaters will be out in full force because of the long holiday weekend, but most of the locals know to watch out for tourists. The canoes are stored at our warehouse just south of town. I’ll take you over there so you can see the inventory.”