Page 9 of Carter


  She said, “I think you owe it to Grace—to the rest of your family—to make the announcement. Let them be happy for you. For a while.”

  “Faith, baby, I’m not gonna do that.”

  Where had she learned to look at him like this? A hard, hazel stare, brows slightly drawn, determination in every line of her body?

  Oh, yeah. Carter saw the same kind of expression in the mirror almost every day.

  “Yes, you are, Dad,” she said. “Promise me. Or I’m canceling the party.”

  “Like hell you are.”

  Faith pretended to consider. “I think Grandma would be disappointed if we had to cancel again. If I cry and say I only wanted my daddy to make it a perfect day by telling everyone he was marrying Grace, who do you think Grandma will be madder at?”

  Carter stared at her as he realized exactly how difficult his life was about to become. Faith only gazed at him, her hazel eyes wide, all innocence.

  “I never knew you were such a devious little shit,” Carter said in wonderment.

  Faith patted his big hand. “I’m Carter Sullivan’s daughter. And the Campbells’ niece. Where do you think I learned it?”

  “All right,” Carter said, resigned. “We’ll have the party, and I’ll announce it. But you gotta back me up. Go along with it now, and when Grace and I ‘break up’ you go with that too.”

  Faith cocked her head. “I’m not making any promises. I bet you’ll end up marrying Grace, no matter what you think.”

  “Sorry, baby. There’s way too much going on for something like that to happen anytime soon.”

  Faith’s look was severe. “Then stop sleeping with her. Oh, yeah, Tyler told me that too.”

  ***

  For Grace, everything that happened after the courthouse was a blur. She made herself remember to stop and pick up supplies for all the baking for Faith’s party, and pretended to ignore the stares and smiles at the corner grocery store. News traveled fast in Riverbend.

  She got back to the ranch somehow, happy the place looked relatively quiet. Not for long, though. When she parked in the lot set aside for those who worked on the ranch, Tyler came jogging up from the corrals.

  “That’s my girl.” Tyler dragged Grace off her feet and spun her around in a hug. “I don’t know what the hell you did to him.” He set her down with a thump. “But keep doing it.”

  Grace looked around nervously. “Is Carter here?”

  “Sure is. He’s in the office with Ross—trying to figure out what the hell happened with Lizzie.”

  Grace let out a breath in relief, opened her trunk, and dragged out her bags of groceries. “What did happen with Lizzie?”

  Tyler gallantly took the bags from her hands, but he lost his smile. “No one knows yet. But Carter didn’t have anything to do with it, I know. Damn it, I wish he’d told me he was going to run off to Houston. I’d have gone with him, made sure he stayed out of trouble.”

  “I think you all should cut him some slack,” Grace said in sudden vehemence. She was exhausted from worrying about Carter, from her impulse to announce he’d been with her, from his anger at her for her audacity.

  Tyler stared at her. “Cool down, kitten. I just mean if I’d been with him, there’d have been no question of him going anywhere near Lizzie. But he went to the courthouse in Fredericksburg and yelled at her in front of too many witnesses—he shouldn’t have done that either.”

  “I know,” Grace said. “That’s why I’m trying to help him. Now, I have a lot to do. Which I wouldn’t if you all didn’t eat so much.”

  Tyler, instead of being offended, sent her a wide smile. “I think you’d be used to it, with Kyle and Ray. You know, when most women get engaged, they’re bubbling and happy. Never met one who was crabby about it.”

  Grace grabbed one last bag from the trunk and slammed the lid. “Oh, just go away.”

  “Can’t.” Tyler started for the house. “I’m carrying your groceries.”

  Grace hurried after him, Tyler’s long stride leaving her in the dust. He was whistling.

  Grace managed to get rid of Tyler, who was very, very happy Grace had decided to marry Carter, and started in on dinner.

  Her solitude didn’t last long. The rest of the Campbells, as they gathered at the ranch after their workdays, had to charge into the kitchen to see her and exclaim over the good news.

  Bailey and Christina were thrilled. They started planning the bridal shower then and there.

  “We haven’t discussed anything yet,” Grace tried to put them off by saying.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Bailey said. She enfolded Grace in a hug, her extended belly pressed to Grace’s side. “Christina and I know what to do. We’ll call Lucy and have it all fixed up by the time you let us know a date.”

  Christina’s eyes were moist as she hugged Grace tight. “You poor thing. I’m so hormonal right now, I cry at the drop of a hat. You’re going to have to put up with me. I’m just so happy for you.”

  Grace returned the hugs, her heart burning. She’d had no idea the family would react so positively. She thought they’d be stunned and maybe even appalled.

  Then again, Grace hadn’t really thought about it at all. She’d seen Carter drowning and thrown him a rope.

  As the girls chattered, hugged, and cried some more, Adam, the head of the Campbell family, came into the kitchen. He too swept Grace into a hug, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad, Grace.” His warm blue eyes cancelled out the scars that marred his face. “He needs this.”

  Only Grant voiced any misgivings. He waited until Christina and Bailey had fluttered out, already deep in planning, followed by Adam, who watched Bailey with such a loving look it pierced Grace’s heart. Then Grant beckoned Grace out onto the back porch.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  Grant, the playboy Campbell with wicked blue eyes, had become a man of deep happiness since he’d married Christina. He’d also been the one who’d secured Grace the job here at Circle C.

  “Sure,” Grace said, keeping up her smile. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Because Carter can be tough to handle.” Grant spoke seriously. “Don’t let him hurt you, Grace, or push you into what you don’t want.”

  Grant obviously thought the engagement was Carter’s idea. “He’s not,” Grace said quickly. “I’ll be fine, I promise you.”

  Grant studied her a time, his gaze quiet. “All right, but if he messes with you in any way, you come and tell me. I’ve kicked his ass before, and I can do it again. Well, with help.”

  “I want this,” Grace said. She went to him and squeezed his hands. “Besides, he has Faith to keep him in line.”

  Grant conceded this. “True. Between the two of you, my poor brother doesn’t have a chance.” He chuckled. “As it should be.”

  ***

  Carter woke in the middle of the night. Or, he thought it was the middle of the night. A look at his clock told him it was eleven-twenty. He’d been in bed asleep for all of fifteen minutes.

  Supper had been an ordeal. The family expected Carter and Grace to be the happy couple. Carter needed to tell them it was a lie, but with them all grinning and joking, he hadn’t had the heart. Faith ate placidly, but every once in a while she’d shot Carter a warning look, her expression stern.

  Grace, instead of being shy and awkward, aware that the world knew she’d taken a roll in the hay with Carter, faced the family with aplomb. She took the brothers’ ribbing without flinching, and slid her hand over Carter’s where he rested it on the table.

  At her cool touch, Carter’s roiling emotions calmed. He looked down at her fingers, small and plump, on his scarred ones in wonder.

  She was stillness and sun-dappled water; he was darkness and dust. His darkness hungered for her light.

  I want it to be real. The thought stole through Carter’s head.

  No surprise. He’d always wanted to be with Grace, had watched her from afar for too long.

  Today, when he’d
been falling, she’d reached out to help him. Carter lifted his fingers so they’d twine through hers, her smooth skin a balm to his soul. Grace flashed him a glance, and then a little smile.

  After supper, the ranch quieted down, thankfully. Grant and Christina went home to their cozy house in Riverbend. Tyler and Ross also went home, and Adam and Bailey retreated to their new house down the road.

  Carter put Faith to bed, like always, tucking her in and kissing her good-night.

  “I’ve been adding Grace to my prayers,” Faith said as she looked up at him in serenity. “That’s okay, right? She’s almost one of the family.”

  “It’s okay to put anyone in your prayers,” Carter said. “Everyone needs praying for.”

  “Good.” Faith gave him a sly look. “I’ll get right to it then.”

  Carter kissed her again, pretended not to understand she was going to be asking God for him and Grace to get together, and left her room, turning out her light and shutting the door.

  He’d returned to his own room, tried to focus on some contracts he had to go through, and forget about this day.

  He couldn’t. Carter had been taken in for questioning, accused of abducting Lizzie—Ross was still trying to find out what exactly had happened—but that paled against the glory of making love to Grace.

  He’d stood at the foot of the bed for a long time, staring at the still-rumpled covers, remembering every moment of Grace there with him. Finally, he’d made himself switch out the light and crawl beneath the sheets.

  In spite of his spinning thoughts, his tired body sent him to sleep. Relief.

  Except Carter popped awake only a short time later, to lie there, staring at the darkness.

  To hell with this. He’d go to the office, do more work. Take a brief walk in the moonlight. Something.

  Carter got up and pulled on his clothes. He’d slept in his skin, so it didn’t take long to be fully dressed again.

  On his way out of the room, a memory struck him, forgotten in all that had happened. When Carter had come out of the shower this afternoon, he’d caught Grace at his dresser, sliding something into a drawer. A secret, she’d said. A surprise from Faith.

  Curious, Carter turned back and opened the top drawer. Under a layer of his socks was a thin, tissue-wrapped package.

  Carter drew it out, mystified, and opened it.

  Chapter Eleven

  Carter drew back the folds of tissue and stopped.

  His own face stared up at him, next to that of his daughter. In the photo, his arms were wrapped around Faith while he leaned down to her. Both of them wore cowboy hats, Faith holding a blue ribbon she’d won for horseback riding at the Fall Festival.

  Faith was grinning widely, her eyes sparkling. Ross had taken the picture, catching Carter in a smile, pride obvious on his face.

  The photo was in a thick white frame with little blue hearts all over it. In the middle, under the photo were the words¸ Love You Dad.

  The frame was handmade, a gift for him he was supposed to stumble across by accident.

  Carter imagined Faith’s giggles while she planned the surprise, and the glee with which she’d drawn Grace into the conspiracy. The gift wasn’t for any specific occasion, Carter knew. Faith enjoyed random acts of kindness.

  His vision blurred. Damn it. He really needed more sleep.

  Carter would go in right now, press a kiss to Faith’s cheek, leave the photo standing on her nightstand with a sticky note that said, “Thank you.” Faith liked when he left her sticky notes.

  As he moved to the outer room and his desk, he heard a faint noise somewhere in the dark house.

  Carter instantly went silent. He laid down the frame without a sound and opened the door to his suite. A light glimmered faintly at the other end of the long hall to the living room, its glow creating disturbing shadows.

  Carter was very aware he was the only able-bodied male in the house. His mother and daughter were in bed, his brothers gone home, the guys who lived in rooms at the stables probably asleep.

  He thought about Lizzie’s disappearance today. While Carter strongly suspected she’d faked her abduction for her own purposes, who knew what had really happened? He wouldn’t put it past her to send someone here to grab Faith, or try to sneak in herself. He didn’t trust Joss not to come here exacting revenge for Carter smacking him around at his shop either.

  Carter hadn’t bothered to put on his boots, and now he crept down the house’s main hall in his stocking feet. He let himself blend into the shadows in the living room, but there was no one there. The light came from the kitchen, and now he heard a strange, high-pitched noise.

  He very quietly moved across the living room and pushed open the kitchen’s swinging door.

  Grace was standing at the large island in the middle of the kitchen, surrounded by bowls, measuring cups, pans, and various other utensils. She had earbuds in her ears, the wires snaking to her apron pocket, and she was humming, off-key, to whatever song she heard.

  Carter walked all the way into the kitchen, not bothering with stealth. Grace didn’t hear his step or the door swinging closed, catching, and coming open again.

  Carter moved around the island until he faced Grace across it. Grace jerked her head up, gasped, and took a startled step backward.

  She slipped on something and went down. Her flailing hand caught a steel bowl, which followed her and landed with a clang.

  Carter was around the island instantly, reaching for Grace.

  “What the—” Carter stopped when Grace looked at him blankly, and he tugged one earbud from her ear. The tinny sound of music poured out. “What are you still doing here?”

  Grace had flour on her nose again. And on her apron, her fingers, and smeared on her lips.

  She flushed bright red, which made the flour stand out all the more, thrust her hand into her apron pocket, and shut off the music.

  “Your mom said I could stay and test some recipes. You want to help me up? And clean up the crème anglaise you just spilled?”

  “The what?”

  “Crème … never mind.” She grabbed on to his arms, and Carter set her on her feet.

  “That for the birthday party?” Carter asked her as he picked up the bowl. Some of the pale yellow substance inside dribbled onto his thumb, and he licked it clean. Smooth sweetness glided into his mouth.

  “No.” Grace grabbed a rag, dropped to the floor again, and wiped up the spill. “I want to open my own bakery, remember? I’m trying to come up with irresistible pastries. Mrs. Ward said she might let me test them out on her customers.”

  “Why are you doing it in the middle of the night?” Carter had more of the yellow cream on his finger. He licked the smear off, enjoying the taste.

  “It’s not the middle of the night.” Grace hoisted herself up on the lip of the counter, threw the rag across the room to the sink and grabbed the bowl.

  Another splash of yellow cream started to spill out. Carter caught the thick liquid on his finger and popped it into his mouth.

  “This stuff’s good.”

  Grace blushed and ducked her head. “Thank you.”

  “It’s eleven something. Close enough to the middle of the night.”

  Grace glanced out the window as though astonished it wasn’t still daylight, and pulled off her apron. “Really? I must have lost track of time.”

  “I swear I saw you go home.” He’d wanted to say good-night to her, but she’d slipped out to her car after the dinner’s cleanup before he’d realized she’d gone.

  “I came back,” Grace said. “Obviously. I went out for more eggs—I didn’t get enough, it turned out. By the time I got here again, you’d shut yourself up in your suite.”

  Carter set the bowl on the counter. One more lick. He skimmed his finger along the inside and sucked the cream from the tip. “You know, you have a kitchen at your house.”

  “Yep. And two brothers.”

  Carter immediately understood what she meant. “You h
aven’t talked to them yet.”

  “Kyle called me. Yelled. I told him to go stuff himself.”

  Carter was sorry he’d missed that. “Tell him the truth. He’ll calm down.”

  Grace started to nod, then she slanted him a glance so full of wicked delight that Carter’s body went tight. “I don’t think I will. Let him stew. He’ll feel stupid when it’s over, maybe stop giving me a hard time.”

  “Does he give you a hard time?” Carter asked. “Tell him I said to stop.”

  “He’s a big brother. Very protective. You’d know something about that.” Her amusement died. “Besides, I’m very tired of being the goody two-shoes of Riverbend. You heard what your lawyer said. Everyone knows there’s nothing wrong with Grace Malory. Even you said I was pristine and untouchable. Ick.”

  Her indignation made Carter want to smile. “Grace, honey, you can’t help it. Like I said, it isn’t what you do. It’s what you are.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Grace’s brows slammed together. “How about if I do something really bad. Like … I don’t know …” She looked around the room as though willing it to turn into a biker bar. “Like this.”

  She scooped the crème from the bowl into her hand and flung it against Carter’s T-shirt.

  He looked down at the light yellow smear across the black shirt that clung to his pecs. “What the fuck?”

  Grace laughing, flung another handful. It struck him across the cheek and dropped with a runny splat to his shoulder.

  He glared at her in mock outrage. “You little shit.”

  “Told you—I’m tired of being good.”

  She reached for the bowl again. Carter lunged for it. Grace grabbed it and danced away, and at the last minute, Carter picked up a different bowl, the one he’d really been going for. It was filled with thick, soft, whipped cream.

  Easier to scoop. Carter flung it in a perfect baseball pitch to catch Grace across the chest, neck, and chin.

  She stifled her squeal, as though not wanting to wake the sleeping house. What a sweetie. A true bad girl would have screamed at him, uncaring who she woke.