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The Protector's Promise
Shirlee McCoy
Who could want to hurt a little girl in a pink princess dress?Grayson Sinclair vows to find out who's after his widowed neighbor and her child. Without getting emotionally involved. Family life isn't for him, but he won't let some deranged person destroy the lovely home Honor Milone has made for her daughter.From strange "gifts" left on her doorstep to attempted murder, someone means deadly business. Grayson promises to protect Honor and the little girl who sneakily stole his heart. Just in time. For the threat is closer to home than anyone realizes.



“Do you think the sheriff has found anything?”
Honor’s voice was calm, without the anxiety he’d seen in her eyes.
“If he has, he’ll let us know,” Grayson replied.
“Hopefully soon. The girls are scared. I want to be able to tell them everything will be okay.”
“Who will tell you that, Honor?”
She met his eyes. “I’m an adult. I don’t need anyone to.” She stepped out into the cold, cutting off their conversation.
Grayson followed, tensing when he saw the sheriff’s grim expression. He’d found something.
“Ms. Malone, can you come with me, please?”
Honor walked toward the sheriff, aware of Grayson’s gaze as she did so. His intense focus was as warm as a physical caress, tempting her to reach back, take his hand, allow the support he’d offered.
She wouldn’t.
Not even for tonight.
She wouldn’t allow herself to depend on him. That could only lead to heartache.

SHIRLEE MCCOY
has always loved making up stories. As a child, she daydreamed elaborate tales in which she was the heroine—gutsy, strong and invincible. Though she soon grew out of her superhero fantasies, her love for storytelling never diminished. She knew early that she wanted to write inspirational fiction, and began writing her first novel when she was a teenager. Still, it wasn’t until her third son was born that she truly began pursuing her dream of being published. Three years later she sold her first book. Now a busy mother of four, Shirlee is a homeschool mom by day and an inspirational author by night. She and her husband and children live in Washington State and share their house with a dog and a guinea pig. You can visit her Web site at www.shirleemccoy.com.

The Protector’s Promise
Shirlee McCoy


For when your faith is tested, your endurance
has a chance to grow. So let it grow, for when
your endurance is fully developed, you will be
strong in character and ready for anything.
—James 1:3–4
To Sara. The darker the night,
the more beautiful the sunrise.
And in loving memory of Willetta Ruth Pothier
who once told me that I had capable hands.
I didn’t understand then. I do now. May I prove
to be as capable of sacrifice, of service
and of love as she was.

CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

ONE
Something woke Honor Malone from deep sleep, the scratchy scrape of it pulling her from dreams of the green hills and cool mists of her native Ireland. She lay silent for a moment, listening to the old bungalow settling and to the quiet whisper of her daughter’s breath. Neither was the thing that had woken her. Something else had dragged her from peaceful sleep. She sat up, her heart pounding, her mind racing with images she’d rather forget—a dark shadow, a knife, blood.
The past, she reminded herself. That was in the past, now.
She was in a new home in a new neighborhood. There was nothing to be afraid of. No way that the ugliness that had touched her life could have followed her from St. Louis. She probed the shadows anyway, searching the room for anything out of place. Moving boxes stood against one wall waiting to be unpacked. Her nurse’s uniform hung from a hook on the closed bedroom door. Outside, the wind howled, pushing through the cracks in the house’s old windowpanes and leaving the air in the room chilly and damp.
Honor shoved aside the heavy quilt her mother had sent as a housewarming gift and stood shivering in her flannel pajamas. Her daughter lay in the bed across the room, and Honor went to her, wanting to assure herself that the four-year-old was okay. Lily lay on her side, sleeping deeply. Safe. Cocooned in blankets and sheets. Just as she should be.
A soft scraping sound froze Honor in place, the noise discordant against the backdrop of wind. Scrape. Tap. Scrape. Like a stick scratching against the window.
Or a knife.
Fear raced up her spine and refused to leave, no matter how many times she told herself that the sound was nothing but the branch of one of the old rosebushes butting up against the window. Her feet moved in slow motion as she walked toward the sound, her stomach hollow with terror. She wanted to climb back into bed, pull the thick comforter over her head and pretend she hadn’t heard anything, but she had a family—her daughter and her sister-in-law—to protect. She’d face anything to keep them safe.
Her hand shook as she eased back the curtains and peered outside, bracing herself for whatever she might see. All she saw was darkness pressing against the glass and wispy tendrils of fog that danced eerily in the yard, swirling and swaying, concealing and revealing as the wind blew them away.
Was something else moving out there?
Honor leaned close to the window, squinting as she tried to find substance in the mist.
Scrape.
She jumped back, her heart racing so fast she was surprised it didn’t leap from her chest.
Scrape. Tap.
A branch. It had to be. She hadn’t seen anything else at the window. She pulled back the curtains again, this time looking down. Overgrown rosebushes brushed against the house with every gust of wind, their gnarled branches tapping against the aluminum siding. That’s what she’d heard. Nothing sinister. Nothing frightening. Nothing to get herself worked up about.
She sighed, dropping the curtains and crossing the room. Her shift at Lakeview Haven Assisted Living facility had ended at two, and she’d been home fifteen minutes later. Exhausted, she should have been asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, but Honor had tossed and turned until after three. Now, it was nearly six and she was awake again.
She knew she should climb back into bed and try to get back to sleep, but the dream had reminded her of things she’d rather forget. Longings and disappointments. Joy and bitter sorrow.
She eased open the bedroom door, closing it quietly before crossing the hall and hesitating in front of her sister-in-law’s room. Candace was years past needing to be checked on. But knowing that didn’t keep Honor from pushing open the door and peeking into the room. The golden glow of a night-light illuminated the bed where Candace lay. At eighteen, she should have been too old to need the light, but she’d never outgrown it. Despite her maturity, Candy’s childhood still haunted her dreams. Honor had given up trying to broach the subject. Instead, she’d done what Candace preferred and learned to pretend that the past wasn’t still alive in her sister-in-law’s mind.
Honor retreated, closing the door and walking down the hall, knowing she wouldn’t be getting any more sleep. The past month had been filled with traumas large and small. Honor had hoped that moving to Lakeview, Virginia, would help settle the family back into the normal rhythm of life, but leaving St. Louis had been much harder than she’d expected.
Harder on Honor.
Harder on Candy.
Harder on Lily, who had only ever known their tiny apartment in the busy city. Lily, who thought that everyone should marry a prince and live in a castle. Lily who had her father’s dreams shining in her eyes.
The thought had the same bitter sting it always did, but Honor pushed it aside. She didn’t have time to waste mourning the past. Her girls were her priority. Her job, her faith were what pulled them all through the difficult times. This time would be no different.
She turned on the light in the small outdated kitchen, moving quietly as she put a kettle of water on the stove and pulled a tea bag from the canister on the counter. The window above the sink looked over the backyard, and again and again her eyes were drawn to the gray predawn scene. In the city, there had always been light and noise. Here, it was almost too quiet. Too dark. She’d get used to it eventually, she supposed. Just as she’d adapted to city life after living for years in the lush Irish countryside.
She smiled a little as she remembered the childhood years she’d spent exploring the beauty of God’s creation with her friends. Those memories were one of the reasons she’d moved to a small town in a rural area. The other reason was Candace’s decision to attend a Christian college in Lynchburg. Honor had wanted to stay close to her sister-in-law.
She’d also wanted to escape the memories that didn’t seem to want to let her go.
A cup of tea in hand, she walked into the small mudroom off the kitchen, grabbed her coat from the rack and shoved her bare feet into boots. Cold mist kissed her skin as she stepped outside. A few yards away from the back door, an old swing set stood neglected and worn, its skeletal limbs planted firmly in moist earth. Honor took a seat on a wooden swing, nursing the hot teacup in her hand, the still, quiet morning enveloping her. The silence of it, the beauty, carried her away from the anxiety that had been dogging her for weeks and muffled the wordless demands that had become almost too much for Honor to meet. Here, in the peaceful moments before the day began, she could finally hear the quiet voice of her Creator, whispering that everything would be okay.
A muted sound broke the silence. A branch snapping? Honor tensed, scanning the yard, her gaze finally caught and held by movement at the far end of the property. A line of shrubs separated her yard from the one behind it, and Honor was sure something had moved there. As she watched, a dark figure stepped into view. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Brown hair. Those were the only details she could make out.
All the details she needed to make out.
The teacup dropped from her fingers, shattering on the ground as she raced toward the safety of the house.

Grayson Sinclair called himself fifteen kinds of fool as he followed the fleeing figure across Oliver Silverton’s overgrown backyard. A squatter, probably. Someone who’d learned that the ramshackle place was empty and had decided to call it home for a night or two.
It wasn’t Grayson’s business, of course. Oliver had made it clear that he didn’t want help taking care of his property. Nor was he open to advice on how best to get the dilapidated house rented out.
After three years of living back to back with the property, Grayson had given up trying to help the old man who owned it. Still, when he’d glimpsed a light shining from a back window, he’d decided to investigate.
More to help himself than to help his neighbor.
The fact was, after two weeks of standing vigil over his brother’s hospital bed, wondering if Jude was going to live or die, Grayson needed something else to focus on. A problem he could actually solve.
A brother in New York, facing months of physical therapy and an uncertain future?
That he couldn’t fix.
A squatter in Oliver Silverton’s house?
Grayson could take care of that problem, and quickly.
He strode to the back door, the anger he felt out of proportion to the squatter’s crimes. He knew where his anger was really directed—at the hit-and-run driver who’d slammed into Jude while he’d been out of his car helping a stranded motorist.
Grayson turned the doorknob to the old house, expecting it to open as it had a few months ago when he’d put a stop to a group of kids who’d decided to have a party on the premises. To his surprise, the door was locked. A shadow passed in front of the window and the light spilling from it went out.
Did the squatter really think that would convince him to leave?
Grayson slammed a fist against the door, not worried about the force he was using. Not caring. The person inside the house had better open up and explain himself. Grayson wasn’t leaving until he did. “Open up. This is private property and you’re trespassing.”
There was no response, and Grayson pulled out his cell phone, determined to handle the problem with the same efficient ease with which he prosecuted criminals. He couldn’t help his brother, but he could do this.
And he would.
The phone rang once before Grayson’s friend Sheriff Jake Reed picked up. “Reed, here.”
“It’s Grayson. There’s a trespasser in Silverton’s place again.”
“When’d you get back from New York?”
“Half an hour ago.”
“And you’re at the Silverton place now?”
“Yeah, trying to kick out the trespasser, but he’s locked in and won’t budge.”
Jake laughed, the sound only adding to Grayson’s irritation. “Look, maybe you find it funny, but I’ve had a rough couple weeks and I’m not in the mood to deal with a vagrant who’s decided this is home. So, if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate you coming over and dealing with it yourself.”
“Hey, sorry, man. I know things have been rough. Tiffany and I have been praying for your brother. Most of the people in Lakeview have. How’s Jude doing?”
“He’ll be in the hospital for another couple of weeks. Then in a rehab facility. It’ll be a while before we know if he’ll ever walk again.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. Me, too. Now, are you coming over here or not?”
“I was already on my way when you called. Seems the new renter thinks someone is trying to break in.”
“Renter?” Surprised, Grayson stepped away from the door.
“Moved in last week. A nurse, her daughter and sister-in-law.”
“No husband?”
“Nope. Rumor has it, he’s deceased, but I haven’t actually met the woman or heard the truth from her.”
“She was out in the yard and saw me coming through the shrubs that separate our property. I must have scared her half to death.” Grayson’s anger fled, and he glanced at the darkened window. He could picture the poor woman cowering just out of sight, a phone clutched to her ear as she prayed the police would arrive before he broke down the door. He had a vivid image in his head—a woman in her forties or fifties. Widowed with a teenage daughter and an older sister-in-law who lived with them. Short. Round. Salt-and-pepper curls.
Terrified.
“You scared her enough that she called nine-one-one. I’ll have my dispatcher tell her you’re a concerned neighbor and there’s nothing to worry about. See you in a few.” Jake hung up, and Grayson hesitated. Should he knock again? Walk away? What was the protocol for this kind of thing?
Before he could decide, the door cracked open, an old-fashioned chain pulled tight across the space. “Grayson Sinclair?”
“That’s right.”
“It appears we’re neighbors, then.” Her voice held a touch of Ireland, its husky timbre reminding Grayson of cool fall evenings and warm laughter.
“It appears so. I’m sorry for frightening you. I’ve been out of town for a couple of weeks and hadn’t heard the place had been rented out.”
“And I’m sorry for calling the police on you. I get nervous when strangers chase me across the yard. Hold on.” She closed the door, and Grayson could hear the chain sliding free. When she opened it again, he caught his breath in surprise.
His new neighbor was not in her forties or fifties.
Not round.
Not sporting salt-and-pepper curls.
Not anything like he’d imagined her to be.
“I’m Honor Malone, Mr. Sinclair. It’s good to meet you. Despite the circumstance.” Her half smile pulled Grayson’s attention to lips that were soft and full.
He jerked his gaze to her eyes, irritated with himself. Obviously, driving all night had left him a few brain cells short of clear thinking. “It’s good to meet you, too. Jake didn’t say when you’d moved in.”
“A week ago. Mr. Silverton mentioned that the place had been empty for a long time. I’m not surprised you were worried about squatters.”
“We have had a problem with vagrants a few times over the years. That and kids using the house as a party resort.”
“Let’s hope that you won’t have either problem again. Come in and have a cup of coffee while we wait for the sheriff.” She turned and walked through the tiny mudroom, not bothering to wait for his response.
Grayson followed, intrigued by Honor Malone despite the voice whispering in his head and reminding him that he’d washed his hands of relationships and women months ago.
He paused at the threshold of the kitchen, impressed by the changes he saw. Honor had already begun making the old bungalow into a home. Layers of grime had been scrubbed from the countertops, revealing bright blue vintage tiles. The faded wood floor had taken on a high shine that must have taken hours of labor. Cabinets that Grayson would have been willing to testify under oath were beyond salvaging, were now a bright white.
“The place looks great.” He spoke out loud, and Honor turned to face him, her cheerful yellow flannel pajamas at odds with the strain he saw in her face. Despite her smile, she looked worn, her eyes deeply shadowed.
“Thank you. It’s been a labor of love.”
“It’s a lot of work to put into a rental property.”
“Not if you’re renting to own.” She grabbed coffee cups from the cupboard, the sleeves of her pajamas falling back to reveal delicate wrists. Her fingers were long and slender, her left hand bare.
“You plan to buy this place?” The surprise in his voice must have been obvious, because Honor stiffened.
“Is there some reason why I shouldn’t?”
“It’s…” Neglected? Past hope? A money pit? “Going to take a lot of work.”
“What doesn’t, Mr. Sinclair?”
“It’s Grayson, and you’ve got a point. Most things worth having take hard work to achieve.”
“I told myself that a hundred times while I was removing layers of wax from this floor.” She smiled, her face going from girl-next-door pretty to stunning in the beat of heart.
More intrigued than ever, Grayson studied her face. Heart-shaped with high cheekbones dusted with freckles. Full lips and wide green eyes tilted at the corners. Not conventionally beautiful. There was something there, though. Something that made him want to keep looking.
“What?” She frowned, her cheeks turning scarlet.
“I was expecting a drifter. Instead, I found a beautiful woman.”
“And I was expecting an intruder and instead found a man who knows how to turn a sweet phrase.” She busied herself gathering mugs, cream and sugar. Apparently not at all impressed by his flattery.
He supposed that was for the best. He wasn’t in the market for a relationship. Even if he were, flattery wasn’t the way he’d pursue one. He believed in the direct approach.
A soft knock saved Grayson from having to reply to Honor’s comment. Jake. Finally. Grayson could offer another apology to his friend, then be on his way. His life was already complicated enough. He didn’t need to add more trouble to the mix.
And something told him that’s exactly what Honor Malone would be if he let her—trouble.
Compelling, alluring, distracting trouble.

TWO
Honor hurried through the dining room and living room, sure that she could feel Grayson’s steady gaze on her back. His eyes were the bright blue of the flowers that had bloomed in her mother’s garden every spring. Looking in them had been like coming home.
Frustrated by her foolish thoughts, she yanked the door open, not sure how she had gone from enjoying a hot cup of tea alone to making coffee for a good-looking, smooth-talking man.
“Next time you might want to ask who it is.” A dark-haired stranger stood on the porch, his hard face shadowed by the dim morning light, his sheriff’s uniform shouting his identity.
“I knew you were coming, so—”
“You can never be sure who is standing on the other side of the door, ma’am. It may not always be who you’re expecting.”
“I know. I guess with everything that has happened this morning, I wasn’t thinking clearly. You are Sheriff Reed, right?” She knew her face was three shades of red, but Honor tried to smile anyway.
“That’s right. And you’re Honor Malone.”
“Come on in.” Honor stepped back, allowing the sheriff to move into the living room. “The dispatcher said you were coming out to make sure everything had been cleared up with my neighbor.”
“And to meet you. This is a small town, and I make it a habit to say hello to people when they move in.” He didn’t even crack a smile when he said it, and Honor wondered if his reasons for meeting new people were altruistic or if he just wanted to add to his list of potential suspects.
She didn’t dare ask.
“I’ve just made a pot of coffee. Would you like a cup?” It seemed like the right thing to say, but Honor couldn’t help hoping that the sheriff would refuse her offer. Two men standing in her kitchen drinking coffee was two more than Honor could handle.
“A cup of coffee would be good right about now. Thanks.”
Wonderful.
She led the sheriff toward the back of the house, sure he was noticing every detail of the cluttered living and dining rooms—the still-packed moving boxes, the faded furniture and dusty floors. The peeling wallpaper that she planned to pull down as soon as she had a spare minute. Lily’s crayons were scattered across the dining room table. Candace’s textbooks were piled on a chair.
In the past week, Honor had spent all her time making the kitchen warm and inviting. In her mind, it was the heart of the home, the place where the family gathered to share in each other’s lives. The sheriff wouldn’t know that, though, and would probably think the chaos was a normal part of Honor’s daily life.
“I’m really sorry about the mess, Sheriff Reed. We just moved in a week ago, and I had to start my job two days later. Things have been hectic and…”
Her voice trailed off as she stepped into the kitchen. The room was a lot more crowded than it had been a few minutes ago. Not only was Grayson still there, but Candace and Lily had joined him. The first wore faded jeans and a sweatshirt, her blond hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. The second wore pink-and-red-striped tights, a pink tutu, an orange sweater and a baseball cap. Both were looking at Grayson as if he were a fairy-tale prince come to life.
Appalled, Honor strode across the room, deciding to deal with the only problem she could. Her daughter’s attire. “Lily Mae Malone, what in the world are you wearing?”
“My princess clothes.” Lily met Honor’s gaze with wide-eyed innocence, her curly brown hair brushing against cheeks still baby-smooth and chubby. At four years old she was only just beginning to lose the baby look, her bright eyes and bowed lips making her look like a mischievous cherub.
“You know better than to entertain guests dressed like that. Now, march back to your room and put on something else.”
“But—”
“Go. Now. Before you lose your library privileges.” It was the worst threat she could make, and Lily’s eyes widened even more. Precocious and imaginative, Lily had begun reading at three and liked nothing better than to check out books of fairy tales from the library.
“I’ll help her find something.” Candace spoke quietly. Her eyes—so similar in color and shape to Lily’s—were much more somber than her younger counterpart’s. She shot a last look in Grayson’s direction before taking Lily’s hand and hurrying her from the room.
“I’m so sorry if the girls were bothering you, Grayson. We haven’t been here long enough for Lily to make friends, and Candace has been busy with her college schedule. They were both probably anxious for a little change in the new routine.” Honor grabbed another mug, poured coffee and handed a cup to the sheriff.
“They weren’t bothering me. And your sister-in-law isn’t really a girl.” Grayson stood near the mudroom door, his hip leaning against the counter, a coffee cup in his hand. Light brown hair fell to just below his collar and a hint of stubble shadowed his jaw. He looked rugged and outdoorsy. Exactly the kind of guy Honor would have taken note of years ago.
But this wasn’t years ago, and she’d decided after Jay’s death that her days of noticing men, of dating them, of falling in love were over. She’d had enough of all three to last a lifetime. “No, she isn’t. She’ll be nineteen in a few months.”
“You said she was a college student. Is she attending Liberty University?”
“Why do you want to know?” Honor’s question came out much more abruptly than she’d intended it to. A month ago, Grayson’s curiosity wouldn’t have seemed odd. Now she was suspicious of everyone.
“Because he can’t leave his work at the office,” Sheriff Reed answered, a touch of amusement in his voice and a half smile easing the harsh angles of his face.
“His work?”
“He’s a prosecuting attorney for the state of Virginia. And he’s never met a question he didn’t want to ask.”
“Guilty as charged.” Grayson flashed a dimple Honor hadn’t noticed before and shouldn’t be noticing now. “Sorry. Sometimes my curiosity gets the best of me. Although this time I had a good reason for asking. We’ve got several teens in the community who are attending Liberty. I thought Candace might like to meet them if she’s attending the same school.”
“She is.” Feeling foolish, Honor stirred two spoonfuls of sugar into her coffee and topped it off with a dollop of cream. She was suspicious of everyone lately and knew she shouldn’t be.
“I’ll give the kids a heads-up. Maybe they can stop by one day.”
“That’s very kind of you.”
“It’s no problem.” He raised an eyebrow as she spooned more sugar into her coffee, but didn’t comment.
“And I may be able to hook your daughter up with a play date or two. How old is she?” The sheriff broke into the conversation, and Honor gladly pulled her attention away from Grayson.
“Four going on forty.”
“Mine is three going on thirty. They probably have a lot in common.”
“I think they probably do. Would either of you like a biscuit to go with your coffee? I’m sure I’ve got shortbread.” She opened the cupboard closest to her and stretched to reach the box of biscuits on the top shelf.
“Let me.” Grayson grabbed it from her hands, his fingers brushing hers. It had been a long time since a man had helped her like that, and Honor’s cheeks heated, her heart jumping in silent acknowledgment.
“Thank you. The biscuits are from Ireland. My mother sends them every few months because she knows how much I enjoy them.” She opened the box of biscuits, biting her lip to keep from saying more. The last thing she wanted to do was babble on about biscuits when what she should really be doing was hurrying the men through their coffee and out of her house. With Grayson on her left and the sheriff on her right, Honor was boxed in. Out-sized and outnumbered by two men who seemed to be taking up more than their fair share of space.
“Ireland, huh? I thought I heard a bit of Irish brogue in your voice.” Grayson took a biscuit from the open box she held out to him, smiling his thanks.
And what a smile it was.
Stunningly warm and inviting, begging Honor to relax and enjoy the moment.
“Yes, well, it’s faded a lot since I arrived in the States thirteen years ago. Would you like one?” She held the box out to the sheriff, but he shook his head, setting his mug in the sink.
“Actually, I’ve got to head out. Thanks for the coffee, Mrs. Malone. It was nice meeting you.”
“Thank you for coming out for a false alarm. I’ll see you out.” She set her coffee down, but Sheriff Reed shook his head.
“No need. I can see myself out. Grayson, you take care of yourself. Keep us updated on your brother’s progress. Tiffany and I will keep the prayer loop going as long as necessary.”
“Thanks. My family and I appreciate that more than you know.”
His brother was ill?
Honor wanted to ask, but she was sure that would qualify as getting involved in Grayson’s life. And that was something she was certain she didn’t want to do.
Of course, she knew she would do it anyway.
As soon as Sheriff Reed walked out the back door, she turned to her visitor, noting the shadows beneath his eyes and the tension bracketing his mouth. Now that she knew something had happened to his brother, she saw the evidence of his worry clearly. Whatever was going on, it had to be big. “You said you were out of town for a couple of weeks? Was that because of your brother?”
If he was bothered by her question, his expression didn’t show it. “I’m afraid so. Jude was nearly killed by a hit-and-run driver two weeks ago. Both his legs were crushed, his back was broken and his spinal cord was affected. Add that to head trauma, and you’ve got injuries that were barely survivable. Jude is stabilized now, but it was touch-and-go for several days.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah. Me, too. My brother is a homicide detective in New York City. A good one. That’s been his passion for as long as I can remember. Now he isn’t sure if he’ll ever be able to return to work.”
“That’s terrible. Is there anything I can do besides pray for him?”
“Unless you can assure him that he’ll be up on his own two feet, running and climbing and working like he used to, no.”
“I wish I could do that, but the prognoses on spinal cord injuries are as varied as the injuries themselves. That, combined with the injuries to your brother’s legs, will give him a long row to hoe, but if the spinal cord wasn’t severely damaged then there’s every chance your brother will walk again.”
“So the doctors said, but it’s two weeks after the injury and Jude still has residual paralysis.”
“Two weeks out isn’t as long as it seems. I’ve seen people regain nerve function all at once. I’ve seen others regain it slowly over the course of weeks and even months. Don’t let your brother give up hope.”
Grayson grabbed another biscuit from the box, eyeing Honor with steady intent. “I’d forgotten that Jake said you were a nurse.”
“Should I ask how he knew that since we’d never met?”
“News travels fast here in Lakeview.”
“I’ll have to keep that in mind.”
“Why? Is there something you’d rather people around here not know?” He raised a dark eyebrow, and Honor laughed, hoping he didn’t sense the truth. Of course there were things she’d rather keep to herself. Like the fact that she’d been attacked and nearly killed a month ago. Or that the death of the drug user who’d broken into her apartment had been headline news.
“Just that my daughter believes in fairy tales and that she’s constantly looking for a prince.”
“In that case, your secret is safe with me.” He placed his cup in the sink. “I’ve got to head out. Thanks for the coffee.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Funny, I had the impression you’d much rather I’d declined your invitation.”
Honor’s cheeks heated, but she refused to look away from his steady gaze. “Entertaining guests wasn’t on my agenda for today.”
“But you invited Jake and me anyway.”
“It seemed like the right thing to do.”
“And you always try to do the right thing?”
“Are you back to prosecutor mode?”
“Actually, this time I was just being a curious neighbor.” Grayson smiled, his firm lips curving, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Not a man given to sulking and anger, Honor thought. More the kind to find the fun in the most ordinary of circumstances. It was a good attitude to have, though carried too far it could lead to trouble. Honor had seen enough of that in her husband, Jay, to know just how far a happy-go-lucky attitude could take a person—from the height of success to the depth of ruin and back again.
She grimaced as she hurried through the mudroom and opened the door for Grayson, waving goodbye as he strode across a yard bathed in silvery morning light.
It was for the best that he was leaving, and for the best that Honor avoid seeing him again. She’d fallen for an easygoing, fly-by-night kind of guy once. In the six years she and Jay had been married, she’d been passionately in love with him and, at times, just as passionately frustrated with him. No way would she go through that again. Not for love. Not for companionship. Not for anything. Her girls deserved a stable, secure home. That’s exactly what Honor planned to provide for them. Nothing would change that. Not circumstances. Not friendships. And certainly not a good-looking prosecutor whose eyes reminded her of home.

THREE
The next few days passed in a blur of work and chores. Honor’s supervisor had worked hard to schedule around Candace’s classes, allowing Honor to work four ten-hour shifts. Honor appreciated it, but by the end of the fourth night, she was exhausted, dragging herself to the nurse’s station to punch out and praying she had the energy to drive home.
“Are you heading straight home, Honor? Or would you like to go have something to eat and a cup of coffee first?” William Gonzalez glanced up from some paper work he was filing as Honor grabbed her coat and purse. Despite the long shift he’d just worked, Will looked wide awake and raring to go.
“I’m definitely going straight home. I’ve got a million things to catch up on this weekend. The sooner I get started, the sooner I’ll be done.”
“I hear you. Maybe we can hook up another time?” He smiled, flashing straight white teeth. At a little over five foot nine, with dark eyes and a compassionate nature, William was the handsome center of romantic attention at Lakeview Haven, and he knew it.
Unfortunately for Will, Honor was much too busy for light flirtation—or anything else, for that matter. Though she had to admit, since she’d met Grayson Sinclair, she’d spent far too much time wondering what it would be like if she did have time. Remembering his dimple, his eyes, the warmth of his fingers when they’d brushed against hers…
Stop it!
You are not some teenage girl mooning over a boy. You’re a grown woman who’s had enough of love to last her a lifetime.
She forced her attention back where it belonged: on her conversation with Will. “My life is pretty hectic right now. I don’t have time for much more than work and the girls.”
“Too bad. You and I have a lot in common.” He smiled again, but there was a tightness to his expression that hadn’t been there before. Had her refusal offended him? Honor hoped not. She and Will worked the same shift and she didn’t want there to be tension between them.
“The same thing we have in common with all the other nurses here, I’d say. Our jobs.” She tried to make light of things as she put on her coat and buttoned it.
“And that we’re both far from home. I grew up in Mexico. My entire family is still there. Makes for a lonely life sometimes.”
“Lonely?” Honor smiled and hiked her purse up onto her shoulder, knowing that Will was anything but that. “The way I hear it, you keep pretty busy with the other nurses around here. I’m not sure how that adds up to being lonely.”
Will laughed and shook his head. “I do like to hang out with some of my co-workers, but that doesn’t mean I’m not lonely. Especially on the days I work. These ten-hour shifts are killers when it comes to friendship.”
“We do get three days off. I’m sure you find plenty of time to go out when you’re not here. Rumor has it you’ve dated every nurse here.”
“Except for you.”
“Which is exactly how I plan to keep it.”
“Why?” He seemed sincerely curious, and Honor answered.
“I was married before, Will, and I have a daughter. At this point in my life, I’m not looking to begin another relationship.”
“All right. That’s cool. Hey, give me a minute to finish filing this paper work and I’ll walk you out. It’s still dark, and you never know what might be hiding in the shadows.”
“The parking lot is well lit, I’ll be fine. Thanks for offering, though. See you Tuesday?”
“See you then.” He waved and turned his attention back to his filing, leaving Honor to walk down the corridor and into the lobby alone.
The front door opened onto a wide veranda that wrapped around the building and provided a covered area for the residents. Colorful chairs and small tables were spaced carefully to allow room for walkers and wheelchairs. During the day, the area had a serene and cheerful air.
In the dark hours before dawn it was anything but cheerful. Bright overhead lights cast long shadows across the cement floor, creating odd shapes that could have been object, creature or person.
Honor shivered as she hurried toward her car, trying to tell herself there was nothing to be afraid of, but unable to shake her fear. She might have left behind the apartment where she’d been attacked, but the memory still haunted her. Wild eyes peering out from a black ski mask. A knife slashing toward her. The quick, hard beat of her heart as she put her hand up to defend herself and fell backward screaming. The crashing thud of the door as her neighbor kicked it in, running to her rescue with his service revolver in hand, shouting for Honor’s attacker to put down the knife. The sharp report of the gun as he’d fired. The soft thud of a body hitting the ground.
Blood.
Everywhere.
Honor shuddered. Thank the Lord Lily and Candace had been at the library. If they’d been home…
She shook her head, refusing to put words to what could have happened. She’d been over it all in her mind during the days that followed the incident. After several sleepless nights, she’d known she had two choices—spend her life reliving the horror she’d experienced or thank God for keeping her family safe and move on. She’d chosen the latter.
Sometimes, though, doing that was harder than it should be.
She pulled open the car door and had started to slide inside when she heard the quiet shuffle of feet on pavement. She glanced around, saw nothing and dropped into her seat, pulling the door closed, locking it against whatever might be lurking in the darkness.
A sharp tap sounded on the back window of the car, and Honor screamed, her hands shaking as she tried desperately to get the key in the ignition. Another knock sounded, this one next to her ear, and she screamed again, turning toward the sound, expecting to look into a ski-masked face.
Instead, she met Will’s concerned gaze.
She unrolled the window, fear making her angry. “What in the world are you doing?”
“Bringing you a message.” If he realized how afraid she was, he didn’t show it.
“A message?”
“Yeah. Janice just called and said we’ve got a staff meeting Tuesday at noon. It’s mandatory. She was going to call you at home, but I told her I thought I could catch you.”
“Tuesday at noon? Are you kidding? Our shift doesn’t begin until two.”
“That’s what I told her, but she said we’ve all got to be there.”
“All right. I guess I’ll have to work it out.”
“See you then.” Will waved and strode away.
For a moment after his departure, Honor didn’t move. Her hands were too shaky, her legs too weak to drive. She took a deep breath. Then another, forcing oxygen into her lungs, her brain, her limbs. Coming to a small town was supposed to make her feel safer, so why was she jumping at everything?
Frustrated with herself, she put the car into Drive and started toward home, fear still pounding a hollow beat in her throat. “Lord, I need Your help pulling myself together. I can’t afford to be afraid all the time. Not when the girls are depending on me. Not when I know You’re in control.”
She muttered the prayer as she drove along the winding road that led home, the sense of peace she always felt when bringing her problems to God filling her. No matter what her troubles, her faith had always carried her through. These new challenges and new worries would be handled with the same firm trust in God that she’d always had.
And she would get through them.
She would.
She pulled up in front of the bungalow, forcing herself to relax and enjoy the sight of the little house.
A house on a quiet street.
She’d dreamed of it for years, and now she had it. She wouldn’t let the past steal the pleasure of achieving what she’d longed for.
The door creaked as she opened it, the light from a small table lamp welcoming her home. Candace’s doing, of course. In the five years since the teenager had moved in with Honor, Candace had worked hard to be a productive member of the family. While other teenagers partied and rebelled, Candace studied hard and helped around the house. After Jay’s death, when Honor had been at the end of her pregnancy and overwhelmed with the prospect of raising a child alone, Candace had promised to do whatever she could to help out. She’d been true to her word, never once complaining when she’d had to rush home to babysit Lily while Honor worked. Even now, when she could easily exert her independence, insist on living on campus away from her rambunctious niece, she’d chosen to live at home and continue to help out. Honor would miss her when she finally made her step into independent living.
“Mommy?” Lily’s loud whisper came from the dark hall, and Honor tensed. She’d been praying for a few hours of sleep before her little girl woke up. Apparently she wasn’t going to get them. She shrugged out of her coat and turned to face her daughter.
“Sweetheart, what are you doing up?”
“I have to tell you something.”
“At three-thirty in the morning?”
“It’s important, Mommy.” Lily bounded toward her, the pink nightgown she wore brushing the floor as she moved, her wild curls bouncing.
Honor lifted her, inhaling the sweet smell of innocence and life. “Okay. So tell me. Then we’re both getting into bed.”
“I’ve been thinking about something.” Lily put her hand on Honor’s face and stared into her eyes, the deep blue of her gaze so similar to Jay’s it made Honor’s throat tighten.
“About what?”
“About the prince.”
Honor bit back impatience and answered in a quiet tone. She and her daughter had had this conversation too many times over the past two days. “Lily Mae, what did we decide before I left for work?”
“That there wasn’t a prince.”
“Then there’s nothing to talk about, is there?”
“But, Mommy, there is. There really truly is. He was right here in our house, and he must be a prince because he lives in that big castle.”
“That isn’t a castle. It’s just a big house. And Mr. Sinclair is not prince. He’s a man.”
“Princes are men.”
Honor sighed, setting her daughter down. “Yes, but not every man is a prince. Some are just men. Some are even frogs dressed up as men.”
As she’d hoped, the idea caught her imaginative daughter’s attention, and Lily laughed. “You’re very silly, Mommy.”
“And so are you to be thinking we have a prince living in our backyard.”
“Not our backyard. In his house. Only I think it isn’t a house. I think it’s a castle.”
“And I think it is not. So that is the last we’ll say about it tonight. Come on. Back to bed with you.” She took her daughter’s hand and began leading her down the hall, but Lily was her father’s daughter, and she wasn’t willing to give up her dream.
“Can we go there and visit? Maybe we can find his crown. Then we’ll know he’s really a prince.”
“No, we can not. Mr. Sinclair is a busy man. He doesn’t have time to entertain us.”
“But—”
“Listen, my sweet, don’t the princes in fairy tales always ride white horses?”
“Yes.”
“And have you seen any white horses around here?”
“No.”
“Then there can’t be any princes around, either, can there?” It was twisted logic, but if it worked, Honor would use it.
“Maybe—”
“Maybe we should stop talking and go to sleep.”
“But I’m not tired.”
Honor shook her head and pressed a finger to her daughter’s lips. “Maybe you aren’t, but I am. I worked for a very long time today, remember?”
“Yes.”
“And now it’s time for me to sleep so that I can be ready to do lots of fun things with you and Candace later on.”
“Like go to the library?”
“Exactly like that.” Honor started down the hall again, stopping when Candace peeked out of her room.
“Is everything okay?” Candace’s voice was husky from sleep.
“Yes. Lily just needed to talk to me.”
“Not about Prince Sinclair, I hope.” Candace wrinkled her nose, and shot a disgruntled look in Lily’s direction. “Didn’t I tell you not to bug your mother about that?”
“I wasn’t, Aunt Candy. Really.”
“Yeah? So why are we all awake when we should be sleeping?” Candace ruffled Lily’s hair and met Honor’s gaze. “Sorry about this.”
“Why should you be sorry? You weren’t the one waiting up for me with dreams in your eyes.” Honor smiled at her sister-in-law and pushed open the door to the room she shared with Lily.
“Yeah, but I am the one who keeps bringing books of fairy tales home from the library. Listen, why don’t you sleep in a little today? I don’t have school, so I can watch Lily until you’re ready to get up.”
“Candace, you’ve watched her every night this week. I can’t ask you to do more.”
“You’re not asking. We’re family. Helping each other is what we do.” She smiled, the shadows in her eyes speaking words she wouldn’t say. Words about what real family meant to her. About the time she’d spent without the kind of love every child deserves.
“Maybe I will, then, but the rest of the day will be yours to do with as you please.”
“Being here pleases me.” She smiled again, stepping back into her room and closing the door before Honor could comment.
Honor resisted the urge to knock on the door, make sure Candace was okay, that the shadows in her eyes were gone. Though she’d tried to broach the subject of Candace’s childhood many times over the years, what she knew about it could fit on half a sheet of paper.
Jay’s mother had inherited a fortune from her father and the family had lived a high-society life in Houston. Money hadn’t bought the family happiness, though. Jay’s stories of the abuse he’d suffered as a kid had torn at Honor’s heart. When his mother had called to ask if Jay’s troubled sister could stay with him for a while, Honor had been quick to agree.
Five years later, she didn’t regret the decision. Though she wished Jay had been around to see how much his sister had grown, how mature she’d become.
The melancholy thought brought the sadness that always came when Honor thought of Jay. He might have been a happy-go-lucky dreamer with more ideas than plans for achieving them, but they’d been good friends before they married, and had continued to be friends until the day he’d died. “Come on, Lily-girl, let’s lie down until the sun comes up.”
“When is that?”
“A few hours.” Honor tucked Lily under thick blankets, pulling them up around her chin and leaning down to kiss her daughter’s forehead.
“Maybe we should have a snack first so we don’t get hungry while we sleep.”
“I don’t think so. Snacks are for times when the sun is up.”
“Later?”
“Yes, later. Good night, sweetheart.”
“Good morning, Mommy.”
Honor smiled and shook her head. Lily was a funny little girl. Advanced for her age and filled with imagination, she kept Honor and Candace on their toes. For now, though, she seemed to be content to lie in bed quietly. Perhaps she was hoping that would get her an extra snack later on. Whatever the case, Honor was thankful for her daughter’s quiet cooperation. Sharing a room with Lily could be difficult. Especially when Honor was tired and her daughter was not. Unfortunately, the bungalow only had two bedrooms, and it had seemed more important for Candace to have her own room than for Honor to have one.
Exhausted, Honor dropped onto her bed, kicking off her rubber-soled shoes and stretching out on top of the quilt. She should get up and change, wash her face, go through her normal before-bed routine, but she was too tired to do anything more than lie there.
A few hours of sleep. That’s all she needed.
Then she’d be ready to tackle the chores and the unpacking with the energy and enthusiasm the jobs required. If she worked efficiently, her three days off would be plenty of time to get the house under control and regain the routine she and the girls had thrived on when they were in St. Louis. By the time Honor returned to work on Tuesday, she’d have the last of the moving boxes unpacked, the backyard would be free of debris and the little bungalow she’d rented sight unseen would feel more like home.

FOUR
“Hey! Mister! Hey! Can you hear me?” The muffled voice drifted into Grayson Sinclair’s dreams, pulling him toward consciousness. Exactly where he didn’t want to be.
He bit back a groan and threw an arm over his eyes, refusing to open them. He’d spent most of the past forty-eight hours catching up on work and calling contractors to try to line up workers who could make his parents’ Lynchburg rental property handicap accessible. Jude would be staying there once he was released from the hospital.
It had taken ten phone calls to convince his brother of that. Only by threatening the unthinkable—their mother staying with Jude in his New York apartment while he recovered—had Grayson been able to achieve his goal. He wanted his brother close to family during the long recovery ahead. Eventually his brother might thank him for that.
“Mister?” The little kid’s voice intruded again, and this time he couldn’t ignore it.
Grayson scowled and dropped his arm, glancing around the sunny solarium, searching for the speaker. He spotted her quickly, the Day-Glo pink coat and bright pink tutu she wore standing out in stark relief against the grays and browns of early winter. Face pressed against the glass, dark hair spilling out in wild ringlets, Honor Malone’s daughter looked just as impish as she had two days ago. Not that he’d thought much about the Malone family since then.
Liar.
He’d thought plenty about them. Especially Honor. If he hadn’t been so busy, he might have given in to temptation, stepped through the shrubs that separated their property and knocked on the bungalow’s door.
“What are you doing out there, Lily?”
“Looking for a horse.”
“Well, you’re not going to find one here.” Grayson strode to the door and pulled it open, the blast of icy cold air nearly stealing his breath.
“Are you sure? Because I was thinking maybe you had one inside your house. It’s a big house. Really big enough for a horse to live in.” She stared up at him, her eyes a deep shade of blue, her cheeks pink from cold.
“Sorry. I don’t keep horses in my house.” He grabbed a jacket from one of the fancy coat hooks his ex-fiancée had insisted be installed.
“But Mommy said you had to have one.”
“Did she? And did she say you were allowed to come over here to look for it?” He slid on the jacket and put a hand on Lily’s shoulder, steering her toward the back of his property as he spoke.
“No.”
“Does she even know you’re out here?”
“Lily? Lily Mae Malone, you’d better come out from wherever you are. Right now!” Honor’s shrill voice carried across the cold backyard and answered Grayson’s question. Obviously, she hadn’t known her daughter was outside, and obviously Lily was about to catch some major trouble.
He glanced down at the little girl, almost feeling sorry for her. Almost, but not quite. The world was a dangerous place. A kid like Lily should never be wandering around in it alone.
“She’s over here,” he called out to Honor. They were still fifty yards from the back edge of his property when the thick shrubs parted and she raced into view, dressed in what looked like red nurse’s scrubs. Her straight black hair gleaming in the sunlight, her skin glowing pink from exertion or cold, she ran across the yard and pulled Lily up into her arms.
“Thank goodness you’re all right. Candace and I were worried sick. What were you thinking leaving the house by yourself?” The words flew out in quick, frantic pants of breath, fear flashing in her eyes as she met Grayson’s gaze.
Green eyes. Much brighter than he’d remembered. Flecked with blue and gold. Rimmed with black lashes that were striking against Honor’s creamy skin. For a moment, Grayson felt caught in her gaze, pulled deep into a world he’d stayed away from for months. When he looked in Honor’s eyes, he forgot why.
“I’m so sorry, Grayson. I hope Lily wasn’t bothering you.” Honor’s voice shook slightly as she spoke and her arms were tight around her daughter as if she planned to hold the little girl close forever, keeping her safe from the ugliness that existed in the world.
If only life were that simple.
If only a person really could keep a loved one safe by sheer force of will. “She wasn’t.”
“I’m not sure I believe you. Lily has a one-track mind about certain things. Though I have to say, she’s never pulled a stunt like this before.” She paused, looking her daughter in the eyes. “And she never will again. Will you, Lily Mae?”
“I just wanted to see if he had a horse, Mommy. A white one. Like you said. Remember?”
Honor’s brow furrowed and she frowned. “I remember. Just as I’m sure you remember our rules about going outside without permission. Don’t you?”
“Yes.” Lily lisped the response, her face a mirror of Honor’s. Both were pink-cheeked with freckles dotting their noses. Lily’s hair was a few shades lighter than her mother’s, her eyes blue rather than green, but she possessed the same heart-shaped face and high cheekbones. And the same indefinable quality that would make people want to take a second look.
They made a pretty picture as they frowned into each other’s eyes, barely aware of Grayson. If he’d had a camera with him, Grayson would have snapped a picture. It was the kind of moment he’d thought he’d see a lot of as he watched his wife and children blossom in the large house his exfiancée, Maria, had insisted on…before she’d informed him that kids weren’t in her plans for at least another five years.
He frowned, wondering why he was thinking about something he’d decided months ago to put out of his mind.
“If you knew the rules, then why did you break them? You could have been hurt, or gotten lost. Anything could have happened. We’ve talked about this before. You know how important it is never to go out alone.” Honor’s words broke into his thoughts, and he was glad for the distraction.
“I’m sorry, Mommy. I just needed to know.” There were tears in Lily’s eyes, and Grayson felt his heart melting.
“What did you need to know?”
“If he was a prince. A real one with a white horse. Because if he is, he can slay the dragon. And then everything will be okay.”
“Sweetheart, we’ve been over this a hundred times before. There are no princes in Lakeview. And there are no dragons, either.” Honor spoke with weary resignation, and Grayson wondered how many times and in how many ways she’d said the same thing.
“But, Mommy—”
“Lily, enough! Just for a while, let’s stop talking about it.” Honor brushed a hand over Lily’s cheek, shivering a little as she set her daughter on the ground. The nurse’s scrubs she wore were short sleeved and her feet were bare. She must have run from the house without thinking of anything but finding Lily. That kind of desperation, that kind of fear was something Grayson understood only too well. When he’d received the call about Jude, he’d left the house unlocked, left the lights blazing, left cases that were going to trial. He’d driven to New York with nothing but his wallet and the clothes he was wearing. And he’d stayed there until his brother was on his way to recovery.
“Here.” He shrugged out of his jacket and dropped it around Honor’s shoulders. For a moment she met his eyes again, the worry and fear in her gaze making him want to tell her that everything would be okay. That her imaginative little girl would stay safe. That the world would be as kind to Lily as it should be.
Then she looked away, the contact between them gone, the moment spent. “Thank you, but now you’ll be cold.”
“I’m wearing a sweater. I’ll be warm enough.”
“My mother would call you a true gentleman.”
“Yeah? And what would you call me?”
She eyed him carefully, her gaze touching hair he knew needed a trim, the beard that he hadn’t taken time to shave, the thick sweater his sister Piper had bought at a county craft fair a few months ago and given to him because, she’d said, it matched his eyes. “Trouble.”
Her answer surprised him, and Grayson laughed. The first honest-to-goodness laugh he’d had in weeks. Maybe longer. “I guess you get points for honesty.”
“And I guess you get points for not denying the truth.” Honor took her daughter’s hand. “We’ve got to get back home, Lily Mae, or Candace will have the police out here looking for you.”
“But, what about the dragon? We need to find a prince to slay him before he gets us.”
“There is no dragon, so there’s no way he could get us.”
Really, Grayson should stay out of it. Go back inside the house, close the door and let Honor and her daughter work things out without an audience. Unfortunately, staying out of things wasn’t something Grayson had ever been good at. “Listen, Lily, I don’t have a white horse. I don’t have a horse at all, but if a dragon does show up, I’ll do my best to slay it. I promise.”
Honor stiffened, shooting Grayson a censorious look. “Promises are a dime a dozen, Grayson. As easily broken as they are made. Besides, there are no dragons. And if there were, I would figure out a way to slay them myself.” Obviously, he’d touched on a sore point, but Grayson didn’t plan to apologize.
“I’m sure you would, but a little help wouldn’t be amiss in a situation like that.”
“Besides, Mommy, the princess never slays the dragon. Only a prince can do that.” Lily had broken away from her mother and was spinning around in circles, her tutu as bright as the flowers that had bloomed last spring.
“Who says princesses never slay dragons?” Honor continued walking across the yard, Grayson’s coat falling past her thighs. She looked smaller than he’d remembered. More delicate.
“All the books, Mommy. Every single one.”
“And we know how true those books are, don’t we?” There was amusement in her words and in the fond gaze she settled on her daughter.
“They are true. They really are.”
“Oh, Lily, what am I going to do with you?” Honor spoke so quietly, Grayson almost didn’t hear.
“You’re going to keep doing what you’ve been doing—loving her unconditionally.” He bent close to whisper the words in Honor’s ear and caught the heady aroma of summer sunshine and wild flowers.
“You’re right. That’s exactly what I’ll do. That, and worry every day that her dreams will take her away from me.” She smiled, but the sadness behind her eyes was unmistakable. “For now, I’m just enjoying her. She’s such a funny little girl.”
“And a special one.”
“That, too.” Honor called to Lily and pushed through the heavy shrubs.
Grayson knew he should probably stay on his side of the barrier, but knowing that didn’t stop him.
He followed the two Malones through the shrubs and into Honor’s backyard, pausing as the two went up the back steps, not sure how he’d even ended up there. Honor was pretty. Intelligent. Compassionate. He’d known other women like her. What was it about Honor that made him want to know more? That made him want to talk to her about everything and about nothing?
She turned before she opened the door, the morning sunlight reflected in her blue-black hair and shimmering in her forest-green eyes. The sight made the breath catch in Grayson’s throat, made his heart leap in acknowledgment of her simple beauty.
“I’m putting on a pot of coffee if you’d like a cup.”
Being pulled into Honor and Lily’s lives probably wasn’t the best idea. Then again, sharing a pot of coffee with a neighbor seemed a lot more appealing than reading the deposition he’d left sitting on the table in the solarium. And, quite honestly, he wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet. “That would be great. Thanks.”
“Come in then, but just remember, I’ve been working long shifts. The house is still a bit cluttered.”
“Why would I notice clutter when I have two beautiful ladies nearby?”
Lily must have been listening, because she giggled.
Honor, on the other hand, didn’t look amused. “There you go again with your flattery.”
“Is it flattery when it’s the truth?”
“Grayson Sinclair, you are more trouble than I have time to deal with.” Honor shook her head and pushed open the back door, ushering Lily into the house. “Come in anyway. We’ll discuss what flattery is after I start a pot of coffee. And Lily, we’ll discuss the consequences of your behavior after Mr. Sinclair leaves. Off to your room, now.”
“But, Mommy—”
“Lily Mae, is that you I hear?” Candace’s voice rang out from the kitchen, cutting off whatever argument Lily might have made. Too bad. The kid was a good negotiator. A lawyer in the making. And Grayson enjoyed seeing her in action.
“Yes.”
“Where have you been? Do you realize how worried I’ve been? I was just getting ready to call the police.”
“I’m sorry, Aunt Candy.”
“Sorry? Sorry doesn’t help. You should never have disobeyed me. Do you realize…” Candace’s voice trailed off as she stepped into the mudroom and saw Grayson. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize we had company.”
“Mr. Sinclair is here for a cup of coffee. It’s a thank-you for keeping Lily safe until I found her.”
Honor seemed to want to qualify the invitation. Grayson told himself that that was fine with him. Whatever it was about her that attracted him, he didn’t have time to act on it. He had work to catch up on, a brother to worry about. He didn’t need to add more complications to his already complicated life.
Whether or not he wanted to, that was a different story altogether.
“You were in the neighbor’s yard? Lily, how could you?” Candace brushed thick blond bangs from her eyes and sighed, taking the little girl’s hand and leading her from the room. Lily sent a beseeching look in Grayson’s direction, and he did his best not to smile at the dramatics. Honor had quite a kid.
“She’s quite a drama queen, my daughter.” Honor spoke as she started the coffee maker, her voice lilting and exotic.
Maybe it was the accent Grayson found so appealing.
Or maybe it was simply the woman herself. “She’s definitely got an acting career ahead of her if she wants one.”
“Funny you should say that. Her father always dreamed of being a film star.” Honor smiled, but it didn’t hide the sadness in her eyes.
“And did you always dream about being a nurse?”
“I always dreamed about being married and having kids.”
“Then I guess you achieved your dream.”
“I guess. Sometimes, though, the reality of a dream isn’t nearly as beautiful as the dream itself.” She poured coffee and offered him a cup, her expression filled with a yearning that made Grayson’s chest tighten.
“You didn’t have a happy marriage.”
“Everyone’s definition of happy is different, Grayson. I was content enough. How about you? Did you always want to be a prosecutor?”
“For as long as I can remember.”
“Then you’ve achieved your dream, as well.”
“Yes, but it’s like you said. Sometimes the reality doesn’t quite live up to the dream.”
“You’re not happy?”
“I’m happy.” But he wasn’t content. And until this minute, standing in Honor’s warm kitchen, sipping coffee and listening to the lyrical sound of her voice, he hadn’t realized it.
“Then you’ve got nothing to complain about.” She reached into the cupboard and pulled out the box of cookies she’d offered the previous day. “Biscuit?”
“Thanks.” He took one, watching Honor’s face as she bit into one of the rich shortbread rounds. “I’ll have to remember how much you love these cookies if I ever visit Ireland.”
“No worries. Mum keeps me well stocked.”
“Yes, but I’d still want to bring back a gift for a friend.”
“Is that what we’re going to be, Grayson?”
“Maybe.”
“Unless my daughter comes in your yard and bothers you again?” She grinned, all the sadness and longing that had been so clear in her face gone.
“Actually, I was thinking we would become friends unless we became something more than that.” The words slipped out, surprising him.
Honor froze at his words, her expression closing off, her bright gaze dimming. “I’m afraid that is an impossibility.”
“I don’t believe in impossibilities.” He set his cup in the sink, took another cookie from the box. Honor might think that a relationship between them was out the question, but he didn’t have to agree.
“And I don’t believe in more than friendship.”
“Then for now, I guess friendship will be enough.”
“For now?” The wariness in her eyes was unmistakable, and Grayson wondered what her marriage had been like. Obviously much more disappointing than she’d let on.
“You never know what time will do. It can fade memories and it can change minds. I’ve got to run. I’m meeting contractors in Lynchburg. We’ve got to have my parents’ rental property ready when my brother is finally released from the hospital.”
He purposely shifted the conversation, and Honor seemed relieved. Her shoulders relaxed as she walked him to the back door. “Let me know if I can help your brother in any way.”
“I will.”
“Thanks again for looking after Lily when she wandered away. Goodbye, Grayson.” The way she said it, Grayson was certain she’d meant it to sound permanent.
Too bad.
Because suddenly Grayson’s decision to avoid relationships seemed premature. Suddenly the idea of getting to know a woman, of courting her, of inviting her into his life seemed much more appealing than it had a few hours ago.

FIVE
Obviously, Honor was even more tired than she’d thought. Why else would she have invited Grayson Sinclair in for coffee? There were unpacked boxes awaiting her attention, dishes piled up in the sink and a load of laundry in a basket on the coffee table waiting to be folded. She had more than enough to do without adding entertaining a neighbor.
And not just any neighbor.
Grayson Sinclair.
Handsome, charming, Grayson Sinclair.
She shook her head and drained the last dregs of coffee from her cup, hoping the caffeine would work its way into her system and clear her thinking. The shock of being woken up from a sound sleep and told that her daughter was missing must have scrambled her brains and affected her judgment.
Grayson wasn’t all that handsome or charming.
Okay. He was. But that didn’t mean Honor found him attractive. She’d learned her lesson about men like that when she’d married Jay. They could be loved, but they couldn’t be counted on and they couldn’t be trusted. She’d do well to keep that in mind.
Honor sighed, rinsing her cup, and then walked down the hall. She needed to put Grayson out of her mind and deal with her daughter. She had to make it very clear that there would be no more wandering outside without supervision.
A quick, hard rap on the front door made Honor jump. She turned toward the sound, her heart racing in her chest. The neighbors had stopped by on moving day, but since then there had been no unexpected visitors. Unless she counted Grayson.
She frowned.
There he was again.
Right in the center of her thoughts.
The visitor knocked again, the sound echoing through the cozy living room. Honor knew she shouldn’t feel alarmed. There was nothing frightening about someone knocking on the door during daylight hours, but adrenaline coursed through her as she approached the door, telling her she should run and hide rather than see who it was. “Who is it?”
“Flower delivery for Honor Malone.” The speaker was female, and Honor relaxed.
Surprised, she peered out the peephole in the door to see a bouquet of blood-red roses.
“Who are they from?”
“I don’t know. There’s a card though. Want me to open it?”
“No. That’s okay. Thanks.” She pulled the door open and accepted the flowers from a fresh-faced blonde who looked to be about Candace’s age.
“They’re beautiful.”
“Yeah, they are. Enjoy them. Have a good day.” Before Honor could ask any more questions, the young lady hurried back to the driveway, climbed into a bright pink delivery van with the name “Blooming Baskets” emblazoned on the side and drove away.
Honor carried the roses into the house, touching a smooth petal as she set the vase on the coffee table in the living room. Someone had sent her roses.
How long had it been since that had last happened?
Five years ago. She could remember it as vividly as if it were yesterday. Jay had been deployed to Iraq the previous month and Honor had realized she was pregnant soon after. She’d called him with the news and a day later he’d managed to have four dozen roses delivered to the apartment. One dozen for each member of their family. Four dozen more than they could afford on his soldier salary.
Honor blinked away the memory, reaching for the note attached to the vase.
I’ve missed you.
Three words that meant absolutely nothing to Honor. She turned the card over, searching for a name, but there wasn’t one. No signature. Nothing indicating who had sent the flowers.
Curious and slightly uneasy, Honor grabbed the phone and called information, then dialed the number of the florist. The owner tried to be helpful, but the information she had was vague. A dark-haired man wearing a suit had ordered the flowers. He’d paid cash and hadn’t given a name.
Honor found the news oddly disturbing.
She touched a petal again, frowning as she stared down at the flowers.
I’ve missed you?
She didn’t know anyone in Lakeview well enough to be missed by them, and she couldn’t believe someone from St. Louis had come all the way to Lakeview to send her a bouquet. If someone in the city had missed her enough to come to town, surely he would have stopped in to visit before going home.
“Oh, flowers!” Candace walked into the room, her eyes bright with excitement as she caught sight of the roses. “They’re gorgeous.”
“They are, aren’t they?”
“So why do you sound less than happy about getting them?” As usual, Candace picked up on Honor’s worry.
“I’m just not sure who sent them.”
“Is there a card?”
“Yes, but no name.” As she spoke, she slid the card into her pocket. There was no sense in sharing her worry with Candace.
“If you really want to know who sent them—”
“I already called the florist. They weren’t able to tell me who the flowers are from.”
“Of course you called the florist.” Candace smiled and shook her head, her sleek ponytail sliding over her shoulder.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means, you don’t have an impractical bone in your body. Everything has got to be planned out and scheduled and perfectly in line. Unless it is, you just can’t enjoy yourself.”
“And is it so wrong to want things to go smoothly?” Stung by her sister-in-law’s assessment, Honor turned and grabbed a box from the floor, pulling out a few framed photographs that were wrapped in brown paper and setting them on the end table.
“No, but sometimes it’s okay to not have all the answers. Sometimes it’s good to just go with the flow.”
“‘Going with the flow’ often means being dragged by a current carrying you where you don’t want to go.” Jay had been a prime example of that. His laid-back attitude had resulted in more trouble than Honor cared to remember. Unpaid bills, missed appointments, paychecks spent before they ever made it to the bank. That had been Jay’s life. It would never again be Honor’s.
“Probably, but in this case, it just means accepting a gift from a secret admirer. A secret admirer! How cool is that?”
Not cool, creepy, but Honor decided not to say that to Candace. “Really cool. Is Lily still in her room?”
“She was sitting on her bed looking dejected when I checked on her.” Candace didn’t seem to care that Honor had changed the subject. Her gaze was on the flowers, a soft smile playing at her lips. Did she dream of finding a handsome prince to carry her away? In all the years she’d been living with Honor, Candace had never mentioned wanting to date, get married or have children.
And Honor knew better than to ask. Candace was as close-mouthed about her dreams as Jay had been verbal. “I guess I’d better go deal with our little escape artist.”
“I’ll put the flowers on the dining room table. They’ll look nice there.”
For some reason, the thought of having the flowers sitting in the middle of the table while she enjoyed a meal with the girls didn’t sit well with Honor. “No. Just leave them here. They’re too pretty to put in the dining room. We’ll keep them out here where visitors can see them.”
Candace looked doubtful, but shrugged. “If we had any visitors that would make sense.”
“We’ve had a few visitors recently.”
“A sheriff and our neighbor.” Candace paused. “You know, maybe that’s who sent the flowers.”
“Who?” Honor headed toward her bedroom, anxious to put the conversation behind her, but not wanting to cut Candace off. Despite her harsh upbringing, Candace was a sensitive soul. Sometimes too sensitive.

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