Ross didn’t look away from her. “Will do.”
“’Cause I don’t want her to have so much as a hairpin on her when we take her to Circle C,” Carter finished.
Chapter Fifteen
The birthday party started at four. Faith and several of her friends had come to Circle C together after school, the girls excited and chattering.
Grace, working in the kitchen to finish up the food, glanced out the window, wondering where the hell Carter was. The adults who emerged from the truck that brought Faith and the little girls were Bailey and Adam.
While Grace conceded that no bad guy would be foolish enough to mess with Adam, the fact that Carter had sent Adam in his place worried her. Carter had been adamant that no one took Faith to and from school but himself these past weeks, no matter what.
Now, Carter was nowhere in sight.
The weather was nice enough that the party was set up outside, in the shade of towering live oaks in the back of the house. Grace couldn’t help letting her gaze stray to the grass just beyond them, where she and Carter had made love under the stars.
Being in love with him was heady, wonderful, scary, and very confusing.
Olivia and Christina, and Bailey before she’d taken off with Adam to pick up the girls, had decorated the tables, hanging streamers from the trees, and set up for games.
Bailey led the girls out to the party area now, and as she did so, other cars appeared, bringing the rest of the guests. Some parents would be staying to help, others were happy to deposit their daughters and hightail it out of there.
Grace’s last task was the lettering on the cake. She’d already frosted the sheet cake with rich chocolate frosting, then piped a wide chocolate border around its base. Snaking across the top of the cake were frosting roses in pink, yellow, and violet, with silver candies in the middle of the petals. Green leaves surrounded the clusters of flowers, and stems wove over the rest of the cake. Grace had planned it so every little girl would have some of the colored flowers in her piece—that would be important.
The remaining open spaces would be lettered with “Happy Ninth Birthday, Faith.” Then the date.
Grace scooped sweet pink icing into a plastic bag, twisted the bag until it formed a cone, then expertly cut a corner in the exact width she needed.
Happy Birthd …
Grace heard trucks pull up, then their doors slamming, and voices, one of them Carter’s. She glanced up and saw Lizzie Fredrickson slide out of Ross’s pickup.
A fat pink blob squirted out of the bag, obliterating the D in Birthday.
Grace went suddenly dizzy, sick to her stomach. Her wound, which hadn’t been bothering her all that much lately, gave a sickening throb.
She sat down on the nearest chair, struggling for breath, automatically holding the piping bag so that no more frosting would come out.
What the holy hell was that woman doing here?
Grace flashed through the fear that had taken her when Lizzie had pulled out the gun. The startled disbelief, the This can’t actually be happening to me. Then noise, shock, smell of blood and smoke blending with the softer scents of baking cake.
Grace didn’t remember much of what had happened after that. She’d lost consciousness, hearing Carter’s voice. Grace had clung to the sound of him, taking it with her into darkness.
The pain when she’d awakened had been raw, and that despite of the painkillers that had been pumping through her.
The physical therapist she’d worked with later had taught Grace to breathe when the remembered panic came. Not so much deep breaths, as slow, long breathing. Grace, shaking, took one now—breathe in, in, in, fill up the belly and open the ribs.
Three of these breaths calmed Grace enough to stop the dizziness, but she still could not rise from the chair.
Logic told her that Carter and Ross would not let Lizzie do anything to Grace as long as they were with her. She remembered also that Lizzie’s lawyer had said she wanted to meet with Grace, apologize. Was that what this was?
No, someone would have warned her. Wouldn’t they? Carter wouldn’t spring something like that on her, she was certain. Ross either.
Then why was Lizzie here?
Another look out the window showed Grace that Ross and Carter were walking Lizzie around the house rather than bringing her inside. They headed in the opposite direction from the party, angling toward the big two-story garage, above which Tyler was working on an apartment for himself. He hadn’t quite finished, but this is where the two men led Lizzie.
Grace dragged herself to her feet. She looked down at the ruined lettering on the cake, and reached for a flat spatula to wipe it away. She heard the girls outside, laughing, undisturbed.
She fought the urge to run home, to hide in her bedroom upstairs in the big Malory house. Fought it hard. Faith was counting on her, as was Olivia. Grace decided to refuse—utterly refuse—to let fear of Lizzie drive her away. She had a job to do.
This is what it will be like when I have my own place, she told herself. I’ll have to work through bad times and good. Concentrate on the task in front of me, nothing else.
Grace drew another breath. She twisted the piping bag again, and forced her hands to be steady as she re-did Birthday, then went on to the rest of the lettering.
As she finished the last number of Faith’s birthdate, Carter strode in through the back door, taking off his hat.
“Don’t make me jump,” Grace said in a hard voice. Carter froze, and Grace finished the number with a flourish. She lifted the bag, now mostly empty and dropped it into a bowl. The lettering was perfect.
Grace reached for the box of real wax candles. “Will you help me carry it out? It’s big. I don’t want to drop it.”
Carter hung his hat on a hook inside the back door. “Grace, sweetie, I need to tell you—”
“I saw her.” Grace stuck in a candle, then the next one, arranging them in a pattern to compliment the decorations. “Why on earth did you bring her here to Faith’s party? Does Faith know?”
“No. Not yet.” Carter came to Grace and caught her hand before she could shove in another candle. “I didn’t have anywhere else safe to take her. She’s too treacherous to inflict on Ross alone, and I don’t even trust Sheriff Hennessy not to take kickbacks from Joss. All my brothers are here today, and we can keep her under control while we decide what to do with her. Once Joss is stopped, she’ll go into custody, and her parents lawyers can take care of her.”
“Wait, wait.” Grace pulled out of his grasp. “Why do you have to do anything with her? Was she really kidnapped? Why are you suddenly responsible for her?”
Carter’s eyes were as hard as those of the bandits’ he often played. “Because if Lizzie is right, and I let her go, I’m sending her to her death. I don’t like her, and I don’t want her near you, or Faith, but she’s right that Joss is very dangerous. He’s why I’ve been keeping such a close eye on you.”
“I know,” Grace said in agitation, then softened her tone. “I know. What I mean is, this isn’t your fault. Why do you have to clean up the mess?”
“’Cause there’s no one else to do it.” Carter’s mouth set in a grim line. “Joss wrecked my life when I was a kid. I’m not letting him wreck it now that I’ve got so much more to live for. I’m gonna finish this.”
Alarm shot through Grace. “Why? What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.” Carter quieted. “I don’t know, Grace. And, damn it, I can’t ask you to …”
“To what?” Grace let the candles flow out of her fingers to the counter. “To help?”
“No. To believe in me. To stand by until everything’s fixed.”
“Of course I believe in you,” Grace said, standing up straight. “Carter, I love you.”
The absolute surprise that flashed through his eyes astonished her. How could Carter not have seen how much Grace cared for him? Had for years?
“What the hell?” Carter asked, his voice cracking.
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“Don’t you dare laugh at me. I’ve had a crush on you since I was—hmm, about eleven I think. That was a girl thing, but now that we’re not kids anymore, I’m very glad to have gotten to know you for real.”
Carter took her hand again and pulled her against him. “I’m not laughing.”
He scooped her up to him and stilled her words with a slow, strong kiss.
***
Love.
Holy fuck.
Grace clung to Carter, her hands sticky with icing, her tongue sweet with it. Carter slid his arms hard around her and let all the bad things fall away.
He felt every curve of Grace against him, the plumpness of her breasts sliding along his chest as he brought her closer, her abdomen against his cock.
Carter deepened the kiss, pulling her up into him. He couldn’t get enough of her, would never have enough. Grace’s fingers curled on the back of his neck, up into his hair. She kissed him with enthusiasm, her tongue gliding into his mouth. Their lips met and parted, mouths opening each other’s, hands pressing, bodies swaying.
He could kiss her all day long, and on into the night …
The small sound of a throat clearing broke the sunny silence. Carter lifted his head to see his daughter standing in the kitchen doorway, her hands on her hips.
Grace started and tried to push Carter away, but Carter held on. He knew Faith wasn’t upset to see her father kissing Grace—the light in her eyes told him she thoroughly approved.
“I was wondering what was taking so long with the cake,” Faith said, a definite smirk on her face. “Is this what you mean by decorating?”
Grace pushed at Carter’s arms again, and he reluctantly let her go. “It’s all done,” Grace said quickly. “I was just about to carry it out. Carter?”
Carter moved woodenly to the counter where the long cake waited. Grace’s words whirled in his head, stunning him. Of course I believe in you. Carter, I love you.
She’d said it in a loud voice, her eyes clear, her face serious. No teasing, no manipulation. Sincerity.
Grace Malory loved Carter Sullivan.
Carter’s world had just become a new place.
“Carter?” Grace had her fingers under one end of the cake tray, looking at him expectantly.
“Yeah. Hang on.” Carter positioned himself at the other end and lifted the tray with her. The cake was surprisingly light, even though it was so long and covered with all kinds of flowers and stuff. Grace only needed help because it was awkward.
“Lead us out,” Grace said to Faith. “Make sure your dad doesn’t trip and drop it.”
Faith studied them critically for a moment, then turned and opened the back door wide. “This way. Come on back, Dad. You can do it.”
Carter had jumped from moving trains to land on a running horse, but Faith and Grace were sure he couldn’t navigate a kitchen door and a porch. Oh, well, they were probably right.
“Step down,” Faith called. “Don’t drop my cake, Dad. Or you get to make me another one.”
Grace laughed, a light sound. “I’d like to see that.”
“Hey, I can make food,” Carter said. “I do a mean sandwich.”
Faith said, “Yeah, I’ve had them. Second thought, we’ll get Uncle Ross to cook.”
Carter didn’t answer. Silly words, meaningless banter with his daughter and the woman he wanted to spend his life with. He glanced at Grace and saw her sweet smile.
One of the best moments of his life.
All too soon, they reached the spread of the trees and the picnic area. Ten little girls waited eagerly, cheering when they saw the cake.
Grace had brought the rest of the candles with her. After she and Carter set the cake on the long table, she quickly put the remaining candles in, deftly arranging them in a pattern.
She lit the candles and then stood back. Olivia and the girls joined them from where they’d been sitting nearby on the porch, Adam and Grant with them.
“Here we go,” Grace said, raising her hands like an orchestra conductor. “Happy …”
The girls took up the song. Adam’s and Grant’s baritones joined in, and Carter threw aside his shyness to accompany them with his deeper bass. He’d sing for his daughter.
No one else, though.
Faith’s friends, paying no attention to the adults, finished the song, adding a few funny lines of their own.
Faith studied the flames, making her wish, then she drew in a big breath and blew out all the candles at once.
Her friends and the grownups clapped, and Grace leaned down to hug her. “Perfect!” Grace exclaimed.
Faith looked up to answer, then her words died, and her face became fixed.
Grace turned to see what Faith looked at, and she straightened up rapidly. She started to take a step back, then her mouth firmed, and she stayed put.
Carter had already seen what they did. Lizzie had emerged from the garage, Ross and Tyler both running after her, faces like thunder. They reached Lizzie and flanked her, not letting her go anywhere.
Faith’s eyes were round, her cheeks losing color. She drew a sharp breath and whispered, “Mom.”
Chapter Sixteen
Grace couldn’t breathe. She’d told herself she’d face this woman without total panic, but her body had other ideas.
Her throat closed up, her mouth went dry, and her knees grew weak. She clutched the back of a folding chair to keep from collapsing, but the chair was flimsy, and moved under her hand.
Grace fought the darkness that spun before her eyes. She would not pass out. That story would be all over town.
She wanted the story instead to be that she’d faced Lizzie with her head held high, no fear.
Carter had gone very still. Grace saw the anger in him, in his pulse beating sharply against his neck, his curled fists, his set face.
He was reverting to the dangerous man everyone thought him. He’d been heading that way before Olivia and then Faith had rescued him—could have become a cold shell of a human being, uncaring of those he hurt to survive.
He didn’t want Lizzie here. He’d had her locked into the garage for safekeeping, and didn’t want her near his daughter, his mother, Grace. Much of his anger, Grace sensed, was directed at his brothers for letting her escape them.
Adam and Grant had nonchalantly stepped out from behind their wives and now blocked them from Lizzie’s direct gaze. Other than that, no one moved.
Lizzie paid no attention to Adam, Grant, Bailey, Christina, even Carter and Grace. Her focus was all on Faith.
Grace’s vision cleared, her breath slowly seeping back to her as she studied them, facing each other. She could see Faith’s resemblance to her mother in the shape of her face, the narrow build of her body. Otherwise, Faith had the look of Carter, especially in the eyes and the stubborn set of her mouth.
Lizzie gazed at Faith like a starving woman eyeing a banquet she was shut out from. For the first time since Grace had seen Lizzie at the back door, with a gun, she felt some pity for her.
Lizzie’s eyes flicked to Carter, who stood like a stone. “Please,” Lizzie said. “Can I just say hello?”
A muscle moved in Carter’s jaw. The rage in his eyes was primal. Grace understood then why so many people were afraid of him. She never had been, because Carter had never looked at her like that.
“Dad?” Faith said. “It’s all right.”
Carter dragged his gaze from Lizzie to rest it on Faith. The girls behind her were wide-eyed, watching the drama unfold. The adults who’d come to help stood transfixed under the trees. A fly buzzed to investigate the cake, and one little girl jumped and waved it away.
“Dad,” Faith said again. “It’s really okay. I don’t mind saying hi.”
Carter met his daughter’s eyes, his hard expression softening for her. Then he looked at Grace.
Grace nodded. “I’m okay.” She wanted to say more, to reassure him, but now was not the time. Grace hoped he understood what was in her heart.
I believe in you.
Carter looked again at Faith, then returned his hard stare to his brothers. “Bring her.”
Faith left her place at the head of the birthday table as Ross and Tyler walked Lizzie toward her. Faith had dressed in her best Western clothes for her party, a button-down shirt like her dad wore, jeans, and boots. She didn’t like fluttery, girly clothes. Her dark hair was in braided pigtails that hung over her shoulders.
Faith was noticeably taller than she’d been last year, her stance a little more graceful. Horseback riding kept her trim, her muscles tight. She was so pretty standing there, watching the mother she’d never met come toward her, that Grace’s eyes filled with tears.
Lizzie halted about ten feet from the party, as though she couldn’t bring herself to go any farther. Ross and Tyler stood close beside her, and Adam and Grant unobtrusively moved to form a second flank around her. Grace understood why Carter had brought Lizzie here—the Campbell boys wouldn’t let her get away with anything.
Faith approached cautiously. Carter put himself right behind Faith, moving as she moved.
Lizzie watched Faith come, then she went down on her heels, putting herself below Faith’s eye level. Faith stopped a foot or so away from her, her face grave as she looked down at her mother.
Tears trickled to Lizzie’s cheeks. “You are such a beautiful thing.”
Faith’s eyes, from what Grace could see, were dry. Carter stood directly behind her, his blue-jeaned legs a solid barrier at his daughter’s back.
Faith studied Lizzie for a long time, her stance and expression so like Carter’s it broke Grace’s heart.
“I know why you went away when I was a baby,” Faith began, her voice steady. “I want to get to know you, but you have to stop doing bad things.”
“I know,” Lizzie whispered. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
Faith went quiet, as though thinking about what to say next.
Grace fell in love with Faith all over again in the silence. Faith could have made a scene, full of drama, demanding to know why her mother had abandoned her, and why she’d decided to come back. She could have cried and raged, or run away, blaming her father and her mother and everyone else for ruining her birthday party.