One Small Secret

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“Maybe that’s the price you pay for all that money.”

“It’s frightening—all that money.” She suddenly pictured Lockey in front of an exclusive Swiss boarding school, bodyguards in tow, and herself, the girl’s own mother, being exiled by Lockey’s powerful father, forced to wave at her only child from behind the black iron gates.

She shut her eyes to the vision. “As long as those two are gone and probably aren’t coming back, then I’m happy to get on with my life and forget about it.”

“I talked to Griffin this morning. Described the two. He thinks they might work for someone he knows. Zurich’s sending some infa‘mation.” He finished his coffee and stood.

“You know, girl, you might not do too badly to fix yourself up pretty and go be friendly with the neighbors. He don’t seem like a half-bad guy, if you don’t look at that big ol‘ net worth of his.”

Honor didn’t know if she wanted to faint or throw up. “He’s got issues, Doug. Big issues. I’m not sure if I can deal with him right now.”

“What kind of issues? What, with that girlfriend of his dying? Just makes him need some comfortin‘, is all.”

She cringed inside. “Look, what would a rich guy like him want with a woman like me, anyway?”

“Hell, you’re the smartest woman I’ve ever known, and when you get riled, it brings out the fight in you, just like it should. Then there’s that wicked wit you tote around, puttin‘ all the boys in place in this here redneck backwater. And I ain’t even talked about your damned good figure and that angel’s face. What man in his right mind wouldn’t want you?”

“Well, maybe he’s not in his right mind. Maybe that’s the problem,” she muttered.

“Eccentric. That’s what they call rich people who ain’t in their right mind. Eccentric. You see? You can forgive ‘em that and get on with things.”

She shook her head. “Maybe he’s not eccentric. Maybe he’s just plain, old-fashioned—”

“Crazy?”

Honor gasped at the unexpected voice. She looked up through the kitchen screen door to the back veranda. Griffin was standing at the top of the steps, obviously having heard most of Doug’s diatribe.

“Look here. Well, I do think I got to be going.” Doug fixed his police hat on his head. “Good morning to you, Mr. Griffin. Honor.” He nodded and walked out the door without even his usual thanks for the coffee.

Hiding her trembling hands under a dish towel, she went to the screen door. “I...I didn’t expect to see you here this morning. I know you’ve already talked to Doug.” She finally realized how rude she was being. “Why don’t you come in? I’ll be happy to make some more coffee....”

She opened the door.

Mark walked into her kitchen, as big as life.

She was swept up in the feeling that this wasn’t real. She’d imagined him walking into her kitchen for ages. Now that he was actually doing it, she felt unsure and out of sync.

“I was hoping you’d be home.” He looked at her but didn’t greet her with a smile. The desolate expression on his face was the same as she remembered from last night.

She was weakened just when she’d wanted to be strong. “Then come in and sit down. Here’s a cup.” She was grateful for the distraction.

He nodded. “Thank you.”

She poured him a coffee and sat down as far away from him as she could politely manage.

His gaze swept the kitchen. “It hasn’t changed much since I last saw it. Your father should be here, though, cooking up eggs and bacon for the guests. He sure did like to cook, didn’t he? And he was good, too, if I remember correctly.”

“Yes, he was.” She’d almost forgotten how much her father had liked Mark. He’d practically spent the entire summer at the Retreat, and her father had really taken to him. Joseph Shaw had thought it a damned shame the young man spent so much time alone, and when Mark had explained that he was used to it, because his parents were always away traveling, the old man had been saddened. He’d thought it a tragedy that one family could have so much, yet be blind to the only thing that mattered.

Joseph Shaw had taught her one fact: that only family mattered. Honor knew that was how she wanted to raise Lockey. To put family first. One of her nightmares was that Lockey would be acknowledged by a father too busy and important to spend time with her, and at the same time be depnved of her mother.

“I have to confess, I didn’t just come here to say hello and be neighborly. I was hoping you’d take a walk with me.”

She climbed out of her dark thoughts and met his gaze. “A walk? Where?”

“To the old creek in back of the Hall. Do you remember how much time we spent there? I was going down there to see it just now. I’ve pictured it a thousand times in my head, but I realized it wouldn’t be the same without you with me.”

“I’m not sure. I’ve got laundry.” She groaned inwardly. The label of hausfrau suddenly seemed written all over her in indelible ink. She knew she couldn’t compete with the glamorous Ralia Pembroke, but she certainly didn’t want to bore the man with all the grinding domestic duties of running a small B&B.

“I won’t keep you long.” He looked right into her eyes. “I thought I’d go look for the cannon.”