Saving Grace (Safe Havens) Page 24

  ***

  Through her tears, Grace clutched Adam’s hand to her breast.

  God, those memories still could rend her heart.

  He stroked her hair. “Oh, Gracie…”

  She hushed him with a shake of her head and finally said the words that needed to be said.

  “Adam, Jake isn’t my brother. He’s my son.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Aren’t you going to say anything?” Grace asked when she couldn’t bear the silence a moment longer.

  She hadn’t been sure how Adam would react. Would there be anger? Disappointment? Disgust?

  He’d simply sat there, holding her hand.

  “I’ve known for a while, Gracie.”

  “H–how could you know?”

  He took a long breath that sounded too much like a disillusioned sigh.

  Or was she being paranoid?

  “Your nightmares. The way you reacted to Jake’s cold shoulder. Little things you and Matthew—”

  “Matthew told you?”

  “I didn’t say that, darlin’.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “I put all the puzzle pieces together.”

  “You don’t hate me?”

  “Hate you? Dear God, Grace. Why would you think I would hate you?”

  “I had a child out of wedlock.”

  “You were raped. You did right by that boy. Many another woman would have simply found a way to get rid of him—either before he was born or after.” He leaned in and kissed her. “But not you. You gave him a home, a future.”

  “I ruined his life.”

  He pulled her against him, hugging her to his chest. “You couldn’t have known what would happen to the Curtis family.”

  Leaning back, she swallowed hard. “But you rescued him. And Ty, too. Oh, Adam, thank you for that.”

  Adam enjoyed her praise, but he refused to let her believe he’d been some kind of hero. “It was the Christian thing to do.”

  Grace yawned, her eyes hazy with fatigue. The poor woman had been through an ordeal, not just in her past, but telling him the truth had to have been difficult.

  “Rest, darlin’. Get some sleep. I’ve got some town business to do.”

  “You won’t tell Jake, will you?” The fear in her voice pinched his heart.

  “No, Gracie. I won’t tell him.”

  When you’re ready, you will.

  She stretched out on the bed and fell asleep moments later.

  He spread a quilt over her, marveling at the strength of his wife. She’d been so young when her life had been thrown into a hurricane. For years, she’d tossed and turned in the storm. He leaned down to press a kiss to her temple, hoping his love could finally give her safe harbor.

  God knew she deserved one.

  Jake was waiting right outside the door. “How’s she doin’?”

  Adam wanted to go somewhere private and shout his anger and frustration. What Grace had gone through was nothing short of hell. He could picture her as a young woman, facing the rape and the pregnancy, and he ached to give Stephen Shay a gut wound and leave him tied to a tree to be attacked by wild animals.

  “She’s asleep.” His words were clipped and harsh enough to draw a frown from Jake.

  “You two fightin’?”

  “No, we’re not fighting.”

  “Then what’s go you both so upset?”

  “Can’t tell you, Jake. Not ready to talk about it.”

  Jake furrowed his brow before he nodded. “Poor thing’s probably exhausted. You know, she took right good care of Emily and Beth. I’m mighty grateful.”

  “I’m sure she’d like to hear that. I’m gonna let her sleep. Will and I have to find Reverend David for a quick town council meeting.” With a nod to the door, he asked, “Keep an eye on her?”

  “Of course.”

  Adam headed down the stairs and found Will working behind the bar.

  He flashed Adam a worried frown. “Grace feelin’ poorly? Is it the baby?”

  They all wanted answers he couldn’t give. “She’s just tuckered out. Taking a nap she truly needs.”

  “Should we find David now?”

  “Good as time as any. It’s past time to get this resolved.”

  ***

  Victoria reined her mare to a stop in front of the barn.

  The place appeared deserted except for the horses, and she hoped it would stay that way. After all the excitement of Beth’s birth and Stephen’s departure, she simply wasn’t up to facing Matthew Riley.

  He was still leaving. Then again, she couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t as if she’d given him a single reason to stay. She’d be bound for Denver just as soon as she could make the proper arrangements, knowing she needed to go soon because she couldn’t stand watching him ride away. Better to be the first to leave than to know he’d left her behind.

  The smell of smoke hit her as she closed the gate to Cleo’s stall. Her heart leapt.

  Fire.

  A frantic look around told her the barn wasn’t in danger. The horses remained too calm for the fire to be that close. A few might have caught the scent, but they did little more than whinny and snort in response.

  She hurried outside, trying to find the source of the smoky haze that now permeated the air. She gave a silent prayer of thanks the ranch house appeared undisturbed. It wasn’t until her gaze settled on the bunkhouse that she found the source of the smoke.

  With a loud crash, flames shot out of the building’s only window.

  “Matthew? Ty?” She kept shouting their names as she hiked up her skirts and ran to make sure neither man was in the bunkhouse.

  Pressing a palm against the door, she found it cool. Throwing the latch, she hurried inside the tack room. Thin lines of gray smoke snaked under the threshold to the bunk room. The door was warm, but not hot enough for fire to be directly behind.

  She grabbed a kerchief from one of the shelves, held it over her mouth and nose, and carefully opened the door.

  Matthew lay on the floor, holding his head and groaning as he tried to sit up.

  There weren’t any flames in the room yet, but thicker smoke billowed down from the ceiling, hovering over the bunkbeds like gathering storm clouds. The fire broke through a moment later, slapping at the ceiling and spreading down the wall.

  She rushed to him, falling to her knees. Dropping the kerchief, she tugged on his elbow with both hands. “You’ve gotta get up. We have to get outta here. Where’s Ty?”

  As he pulled his hand away from his head, there were smears of blood on his fingers. There wasn’t time to determine the extent of his injuries. She had to get him outside.

  “C’mon, Matthew.” She tugged hard at his elbow.

  “Ty’s gone. Went to check the fence line, then he’s headed back to town.” He tried to stand up as coughs began to spill from him.

  She jerked him right back down. “Stay low. There’s more air.” The words cost her an inhale of the thickening smoke that forced hacking coughs.

  Crawling on her hands and knees, Victoria headed back toward the tack room, checking over her shoulder to be sure he followed. Just as he reached the doorway, a large chunk of the burning ceiling crashed over several of the beds.

  Not giving in to the panic searing through her, she tried to get him to his feet. It was akin to moving an uncooperative horse. She’d never get him out of the burning bunkhouse without his help, and she sure as hell wasn’t leaving him behind. “We’ve gotta get outside!”

  Her fear must have finally registered because he stumbled to his feet, grabbed her by the arm, and dragged her outside until they were a good distance away from the bunkhouse. He collapsed onto the grass, and they both coughed for a good long while, watching as the flames greedily licking at the structure.

  Within a matter of minutes, the roof gave a groaning death rattle and caved in.

  Victoria kept a wary eye on the barn and the house, but the bunkhouse was far enough away the fire wouldn’t spread. Her father had always jo
ked that he built it a good distance from the barn so the cowboys didn’t have to smell the horses—and a good distance away from the house so his family didn’t have to smell the cowboys.

  Thank you, God.

  Once she could draw a breath without a bout of coughing following, she turned her attention to Matthew. Kneeling next to him she ran her fingers through his hair. Although he tried to slap her hands away, she found the injury. It wasn’t bleeding any longer, but he had a good sized knot forming on his crown.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “Not sure.” He slapped at her hands again. “Quit it. That hurts.”

  She couldn’t help but smile. Had he been seriously injured he wouldn’t have made such a bad patient. “Did you fall and hit your head?”

  “Someone hit me. Coldcocked me from behind.”

  That made no sense. Who would want to hurt him?

  Or was Matthew just in the way of someone who wanted to hurt her father?

  Far as she knew, neither of them had any enemies.

  “Gotta be Shay.” He frowned. “Stop fussing over me.

  As Victoria’s heart slowed to a normal rhythm, the weight of what had happened settled on her, sending it right back to pounding a hard, fast cadence. Had she not ridden home from White Pines, he would be dead, buried beneath the burning rubble of what was left of the bunkhouse.

  She threw herself at him, knocking them both to the grass.

  Matthew held her tight, not entirely sure what had caused her to suddenly embrace him. Her lips rained kisses on his cheeks.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “I could have lost you!”

  Before he could respond, her mouth settled on his.

  A new fire kindled, quickly burning out of control. She deepened the kiss before he could. The rub of her tongue and her lithe body pressed against his ignited all sorts of erotic thoughts.

  He wanted to drown in her. She was everything beautiful in the world—everything that he’d ever wanted.

  How on God’s green earth could he ever have thought he could ride away?

  There was no way he would ever leave her.

  Victoria’s tears made him pull away. “Sweetheart, please stop crying.”

  “I–I could’ve lost you.” She laid her cheek against his shoulder and breathed a shuddering sigh. In a voice so hesitant it could have been the whispering wind, she said the magical words he thought he would never hear. “I–I love you.”

  He rolled, taking her with him until he had her pinned beneath him. As tenderly as he could with his calloused hands, he framed her face.

  Her cheeks were covered in soot, and her tears had left streaks of clean, pink skin. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

  “Never,” he said. “You’ll never lose me.”

  Then he kissed her again. Long and deep and promising her all he could give. His heart and his soul rested in the palms of her hands.

  Matthew stared into Victoria’s blue eyes. “I love you too.”

  He hadn’t meant to make her cry again. Only kissing her got her to stop.

  Her tongue eased into his mouth. There was no shyness, no hesitation. No guile. She took her pleasure from him the same honest way he took his from her.

  Her lips followed his as he pulled away. He kissed her again to show her how much he liked that hunger—the same hunger that gnawed at him. Once he was on his feet, he helped her up. Before she could ask the question in her eyes, he swept her into his arms and carried her toward the ranch house.

  He stumbled through the kitchen and mounted the stairs, taking them two at a time. When he reached her bedroom, he nudged the door open and headed toward the bed, kicking the door shut behind him.

  Their lips locked in another kiss as he released her legs and let her body slide down his. Before her feet touched the floor, he squeezed her tighter, kissing her all the while.

  His conscience bellowed in his head. Victoria was a lady, the type of woman you married, not the kind you took for a lover. She deserved better. She deserved a man who had a future. She deserved a man who wasn’t about to toss her on her bed and make love to her without the benefit of a preacher’s blessing. Easing his hold, he let her put both feet on solid ground.

  How he was going to be able to stop was beyond him, but he tried anyway. The choice would be hers. At the very least, he owed her that much.

  “Victoria…” His hands reached for hers where they’d encircled his neck. With a gentle tug on both her wrists, he moved her arms away and took a step back.

  She went with him, fisted her hands in his vest, and jerked him back until their bodies touched. “I love you.” Her voice was harsh, belying the tenderness in her sparkling eyes.

  “We shouldn’t…”

  “Oh, yes, we should.” Rising on her toes, she kissed him, sliding her hands back around his neck.

  He raised trembling hands to her bodice. His fingers felt too big, too awkward as he tried to undo each button on her white shirt. At least it had been white once upon a time. Now it was soot and grass stained and he wanted to rip it right off her.

  Victoria took pity on him, helping undo the small buttons. She shrugged out of the shirt and wiggled out of her skirt. Her hands smoothed over his chest, sweeping the vest from his shoulders.

  She traced the line of his arms, following the path of the vest, before she again pressed her hands to his chest. Button by button, she worked on removing his shirt.

  With a growl, he grabbed the shirt and jerked it apart. Buttons flew through the air to clatter on the wooden floor like hailstones. Her smile shone bright against her cheeks darkened by soot.

  Matthew pulled his shirt off and used it to wipe at her face. “You’re quite a sight.”

  “I don’t care.” She snatched the shirt away from him and dropped it to the floor before reaching for the waistband of his pants.

  He toed off his boots and replied to her efforts to strip him by tugging at the ribbon of her camisole. Both garments joined his shirt.

  She was so beautiful, he couldn’t stop staring. Her skin was unblemished, a bit aglow with a blush that spread from her face down her slender neck. Her breasts were peaked with rose-colored nipples that had hardened in invitation.

  Her eyes stared at the ceiling, obviously having a hard time looking at his nudity. “It’s going to be all right, sweetheart.”

  Her teeth nibbled on her bottom lip as her gaze made its way to his face, his chest, and lower. Just watching her as eyes took their fill of his body heated his blood. If he wasn’t inside her soon…

  She finally took a glance at his groin. With a gasp, she immediately stared back at the ceiling.

  Matthew’s wrapped his arms around her, tugging her against him. His warmth and scent surrounded her, comforted her. “I won’t hurt you,” he whispered.

  His hand pushed between them, grabbing at the ribbon holding up her drawers. The sound of tearing fabric filled the air. The fabric puddled around her ankles.

  He knelt beside her. As he removed her shoes and helped her step out of her torn pantalets, she balanced herself against his shoulder. His hands brushed every inch of her legs as he peeled off her stockings. Every place he touched felt hot enough to burst into flame. He scooped up in his arms and laid her on the bed, then he sprawled on top of hers.

  Victoria wanted to touch him everywhere. His body was so different than her own. Hard and masculine. The dusting of hair on his chest felt crispy. Her hand moved lower.

  He grabbed her wrist and gently moved her hand away just before she had his erection in her grasp. “Wrong?” she asked, her voice a whisper.

  “Not wrong. I just… Not now. I want you too much.”

  She rewarded him with a tongue-dueling kiss. He tore his lips away to kiss her neck, laving the sensitive skin with his tongue. Moans slipped from her, but she was too lost in what he made her feel to stop them.

  His kisses moved lower until he set his mouth against her breast,
drawing the nipple between his teeth. She arched into him so hard she feared she’d buck him right off.

  He slid his hand over her flat belly, down the outside of her hip, and up the inside of her thigh until he was caressing the very core of her.

  “Sweet Lord, you’re perfection,” he murmured.

  Separating her thighs with his knee, he rose to gaze down at her face. “I want you.” He choked out the words. A hard kiss followed. “Victoria?”

  She answered him by cupping his neck and pulling him down for another kiss.

  Matthew’s erection pressed against her center, and she tried to drown in his kiss, fearing the pain. He eased inside her, filling her completely. The pain never came.

  Relieved, she gave herself over to all he made her feel.

  Wonderful.

  It felt wonderful to have him so deep inside her. But he wasn’t moving. She hadn’t realized she’d squeezed her eyes shut until she forced them open to look at him.

  He was staring down at her, his dark eyes searching for an answer.

  “No pain. There’s no pain.”

  “Thank God.”

  He pulled back, and she wrapped her legs around his hips, fearing he was leaving her. Then he thrust back inside. It felt so marvelous, she begged him to do it again. He kissed her hard and obliged her.

  The rhythm of his hips meeting hers became more frantic, the kissing no longer teasing but deep and heartfelt, driving them toward fulfillment.

  Panic griped her, the intensity of her feelings becoming overwhelming. Before she could give voice to her fear, he soothed her with three whispered words. “I love you.”

  Victoria surrendered, fracturing into a thousand rays of sunshine that raced from her core through her limbs.

  He plunged into her, fast and hard until he shuddered.

  She held him tight, keeping her legs around his hips and whispering her love in his ear.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Grace leaned against Adam, fighting the drowsiness that still held her captive. Her feelings were battered and bruised despite all her husband had done to calm her.

  She’d awakened at the Four Aces in the throes of a nightmare where Stephen was trying to steal an infant—her new son—right from her arms.