Eternal Vows (Hideaway (Kimani)) (5 page)

Nicholas did not want to think of his mild-mannered father’s reaction once Celia revealed she’d married a man she’d known a month. Celia wanted to keep her marriage a secret from the family and Gavin was also keeping a secret from his wife. Secrets that could backfire and shatter the newlywed’s trust and eventually destroy their marriage.

The volume on the music was lowered again, this time when he stood up to toast the newlyweds. Raising a flute filled with champagne, Nicholas smiled at Celia before nodding to Gavin. “I’d like to wish my favorite sister—”

“I’m his
only
sister,” Celia interrupted, smiling. Her statement was followed by laughter and applause.

A single dimple creased Nicholas’s left cheek. “My favorite and only sister,” he corrected, bowing slightly at the waist. “I love you and wish you more happiness than you could’ve ever imagined. Gavin, I know you love my sister and that you will
protect
her with your life. Brother. Welcome to the family.” Gavin raised his glass in acknowledgment. Cupping Peyton’s elbow, he helped her rise. “It’s time for you to say something.”

Peyton’s heart drummed a runaway rhythm against her ribs. She’d known Celia all of four days and she hadn’t planned on making a toast. She searched her memory for a sonnet or bible verse pertaining to love.

There came a strange and silent hush as hundreds of eyes were fixed on her. Smiling, she lifted her flute. “I raise my glass to toast a beautiful pair on the birthday of your love affair. To Gavin and Celia. May you be lovers the rest of your lives.” Shouts of congratulations and whistling followed her toast. Peyton permitted Nicholas to help her sit down, taking furtive sips of the dry wine.

“I had no idea you were a romantic,” he said in her ear.

She rolled her eyes at him. “That’s because you don’t know me.”

Nicholas leaned closer. “You’re right. I don’t know you.” He stared at her under lowered lids. “If you plan to work for me maybe we should get to know each other.”

“A lot of things could change in a year, Nicholas.”

He lifted his shoulders. “True. But the fact that you’re a licensed veterinarian isn’t going to change.”

Peyton bit her lower lip to keep from blurting out that she could possibly secure a position elsewhere. Virginia wasn’t the only state with horse farms. She’d give herself another six months before sending out her resume to racetracks across the country.

The DJ’s voice came through the speakers set up around the tent. “Ladies and gentlemen, I have a special request from the groom for the couple’s first dance as husband and wife.”

The Foreigner classic “I Want To Know What Love Is,” filled the tent as Gavin led Celia out onto the dance floor. Peyton felt her eyes filling with tears when she listened to the poignant lyrics. She was saved from embarrassing herself when Nicholas gently pulled her to stand. One moment she was standing and the next she found herself in his arms, her breasts molded to his chest. The strength of his embrace, the warmth of his body and the lingering scent of his cologne swept over her, and she went completely pliant in his arms.

Peyton felt calm, astonished at the sense of serenity that made her recognize what she didn’t need. She didn’t need romance at this time in her life the same way she hadn’t needed it when she met Reginald. Marrying him had almost derailed her studies. She’d been back in the States four months when they met at a social mixer; he appeared to be everything she wanted in a man. She was unaware he was a predator and she a consenting and willing prey.

Reginald had accused her of being a girl in a woman’s body and she refused to give him the satisfaction of telling him he was right. He’d sensed her naïveté and like a piranha went in for the kill. Fortunately she’d escaped being devoured. She was left with invisible scars that had healed and were slowly fading, although there were times when Peyton wondered if her marriage to Reginald had ruined her for other men.

Peyton’s reverie ended when she found herself in Gavin’s arms. Tilting her head, she smiled up at the powerfully built man with large dark eyes and strong masculine features. “How does it feel to be married?”

Gavin twirled her around. “Wonderful. I’d confessed to Celia that I loved her but those words sounded so empty until I vowed to give her all that I am today and forever. And I like what you said about us being lovers for the rest of our lives. Too many times couples stop being friends and lovers once they’re married. I pray that will never happen with me and Celia.”

“Marriage is like a job or career. You have to work at it every day to make it better than the day before.”

“Are you speaking from experience, Peyton?” Gavin asked.

Smiling, she shook her head. Her marriage had been the exception rather than the norm. “No. Those are my mother’s words.”

“She sounds like a wise woman.”

Peyton didn’t want to refute Gavin’s assessment of her mother. Wherein Lena Blackstone had excelled as a mother she’d failed miserably as a wife, because she’d become a throwback to an era when women took the vow to obey their husbands literally. Lena’s stance on this issue had been a source of contention between Peyton and her mother for years. It wasn’t that she didn’t love her father, but Alphonso Blackstone’s need to dominate his wife and his employees had been the reason for her living in Virginia rather than return to her home state.

“She is a wonderful mother,” she said instead.

Nicholas winked at Celia. He’d cut in on his brother-in-law because it gave him an excuse not to dwell on how good it felt to hold Peyton in his arms. And after so many hours he still hadn’t recovered from her shocking transformation from the ingenue with a ponytail, jeans and flats to the startling sophisticate that left him with his mouth gaping. He also hadn’t missed the lustful stares from men when she’d walked down the carpet; he also understood why the photographer had given her a hard time. Myron Essex had reverted to an adolescent boy who liked a girl but didn’t know how to show it, so he either teased or harassed her.

Nicholas had left adolescence behind years ago, yet he hadn’t felt the need to tease or harass her. He’d found it easier to simply ignore her, convincing himself that she wasn’t there when everything about her was imprinted in his memory like a permanent tattoo. There had only been one other woman who’d affected him the way Peyton had within minutes of their meeting, and he’d known beyond the shadow of a doubt she would become his wife and the mother of their children. After an intense courtship and a proposal of marriage, his world fell apart. Not only had the woman he’d loved selfishly walked away from him, but he was forced to walk away from a career he’d wanted for what seemed like forever.

“How can I thank you for everything you’ve done for me, Nicky?” Celia asked, breaking into his thoughts.

“Promise me I’ll be godfather to your firstborn. Jacob Jones trumped me when Diego picked him to be Samuel’s godfather.”

“I promise. But I’m going to tell you right now that I’m going to ask Peyton if she’ll be godmother. Aside from Hannah and a college friend, I really don’t have any other close girlfriends, and even though we just met I feel Peyton’s the sister I’ve always wanted.”

Nicholas’s eyebrows lifted a fraction. “She is rather remarkable.”

“Oh, so you noticed?”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Cee Cee?”

Celia leaned in close to her brother, her mouth pressed to his ear. “She’s perfect for you. And what is the expression? If you’re slow you’ll blow. Every single man and probably a few married ones would like to exchange places with you tonight. She’s not only smart, but also pretty. You’ve dealt with a few losers in the past. Especially Arden. So, please don’t let Peyton get away.”

Nicholas clenched his teeth, the muscles in his jaw twitching noticeably. His sister didn’t know what she was talking about. “There’s nothing going on between me and Peyton.”

“Maybe there should be,” Celia countered.

His eyes narrowed. “What’s up with the matchmaking?”

Celia closed her eyes for several seconds. “This is one of the happiest days of my life and I want the same for you. You have an incredibly beautiful twelve-room house that’s more of a museum than a home. You own hundreds of acres of land where you breed horses when you should be breeding babies of your own,” she continued passionately. “Even if you don’t hook up with Peyton I want you to promise me that you’re going to stop this self-exile and start dating again. Not every woman you’ll meet will be like Arden.”

Nicholas spun his sister around in an intricate dance step. “I’ll promise only if you quit nagging me. You’re beginning to sound like our mother.”

Celia sobered. “Speaking of our mother. Don’t mention anything about me marrying until I get to tell her in person.”

“When is that going to happen?”

“Once the trial is over I’ll tell everyone.” As the state’s only surviving witness Celia had sought refuge in her vacation home in the Great Smoky Mountains to await the trial that would finally close the chapter on the E.R. massacre.

“You know all hell is going to break loose when you tell Dad. He’s been waiting years to walk his only daughter down the aisle.”

Her dimples winked at Nicholas when she smiled. “He will still have that honor when Gavin and I repeat our vows in West Palm this coming New Year’s Eve. And once we make Mama a grandmother again she’ll calm down.”

Dipping his head, he kissed his sister’s cheek. “Let’s hope you’re right.” The dance ended and he escorted Celia back to Gavin.

Nicholas scanned the crowd looking for Peyton, finding her surrounded by a group of men as if she were holding court. Some he recognized from Blackstone Farms, but there were a few he didn’t recognize. And from their expressions they were enthralled with her. He recalled what Celia had said about not letting her get away. He couldn’t stop her from getting away if he never had her.

And Nicholas was forced to ask himself if he did want Peyton, and the answer was as plain as the nose on his face. Yes, he did. What he had to figure out was for what. Did he want friendship or a relationship that was wholly physical in nature? He didn’t want more than that, because for him falling in love was not an option. Been there, done that and he wasn’t willing to travel that route again.

Chapter 4

P
eyton woke to the sound of the woodpecker’s drumming. It was as if the bird’s very life depended upon his making the infernal noise. Maybe he thought he was an alarm clock. Unfortunately she couldn’t hit the snooze button and go back to sleep for another ten or fifteen minutes. She had to get up and check the horses. Pushing into a sitting position, she supported her back against a mound of pillows. She also couldn’t linger in bed because she’d been recruited to serve on the open house’s welcoming committee.

A soft moan slipped past her lips when she felt a twinge of tightness in her calves. It’d been after midnight when she returned to the farm and it was close to one-thirty when she finally crawled into bed after cleansing her face of makeup, taking down her hair and taking a leisurely bath to soak her aching legs and feet. Peyton had lost count of her many dance partners after the third one. She danced with her cousins, the men from her farm and the neighboring ones. A few times she caught Nicholas staring at her with obvious disapproval, but she felt free, freer than she’d been in a very long time. Weddings fêted the joining of shared futures and she felt the bride and groom’s joy as surely as it was her own.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed she walked gingerly on bare feet to the bathroom. Forty minutes later she returned to the bedroom at the same time her cell phone stopped ringing. Please, she thought, don’t let it be Reginald.

Reaching over, she picked up the phone, smiling. She’d missed one call, this one she always welcomed. Touching the screen, she listened for a break in the connection. When Lena’s husky greeting came through the earpiece Peyton went still.

“Mama. What’s the matter?”

“Nothing’s the matter. I’m just a little hoarse this morning. I was working in the garden yesterday and the pollen got to me. Your father claims I sound sexy.”

Peyton smiled. “You do.”

“I just called to say hello.”

Her smile faded. Her mother never called just to say hello. “What’s going on, Mama?”

“Your father just stripped and varnished all of the doors and he’s threatening to take the cat to a shelter if he—”

“Please don’t tell me any more,” Peyton interrupted. “I want you to crate Oreo and send him to me at the farm.”

“You don’t mean that, Peyton.”

“Yes I do mean it.” She enunciated each word. “Daddy’s not giving that cat to a shelter because if he’s not adopted then he’s going to be euthanized. You have my credit-card information, so you don’t have to use your own money. Ship him to the Shenandoah Valley Regional Airport. Make certain you put down my cell as the primary number on the shipping label and the farm’s as the secondary number. I’ll drive up and get him once he arrives.”

Oreo had been a rescue cat. After she’d become involved with Reginald, Peyton gave the kitten to her mother because he was allergic to cats. Her father never liked Oreo, and was probably looking for an excuse to get rid of him.

“I really like Oreo,” Lena admitted.

“But Daddy doesn’t, so that means I’m taking my pet back. Please try and call me today, Mama.” Peyton paused. “I just thought of something.”

“What?”

“Why don’t you fly down with Oreo? A change of scenery will do you good.”

Silence ensued before Lena said, “It’s too hot in the South this time of year, and you know I have to stay out of the sun. Maybe I’ll come down in October.”

Her mother had had a pre-cancerous lesion removed near her hairline four years ago, which prompted her to take extra precautions whenever she went out in the sun. It was always layers of sunscreen, long sleeves and a floppy hat during the summer months.

“Maybe isn’t an answer, Mama.”

“I’ll promise only if you’ll promise to come back here to live. You’re my only baby and I miss you like crazy.”

Peyton closed her eyes.
Please, not with the guilt,
she mused. “I miss you, too, Mama. I’ll come up to visit, but please don’t ask me to stay.”

There came a beat. “When are you coming?” Lena asked.

“I’ll be up for my birthday. We’ll have a girls’ week when we check into a hotel, order room service and get beauty makeovers.”

“That sounds wonderful. Oreo’s looking at me, because he knows I feed him his breakfast around this time. Let me go, baby, so I can call and find out when I can send him back to you.”

Peyton rang off. When she’d moved into a studio apartment close to Cornell University College of Veterinary Medicine in Ithaca, New York, she saw a flyer advertising pet adoptions at a local shelter. When she visited the shelter and spied the chocolate British shorthair kitten with a tiny patch of white on one paw Peyton knew they were meant for each other, and she now looked forward to reuniting with her furry baby.

She made her way down the main staircase to the first floor, stopping on the last stair when she saw Sheldon’s housekeeper dusting a bleached pine table cradling a crystal vase filled with a bouquet of wildflowers.

The housekeeper was like a specter, floating silently in and out of rooms dusting and vacuuming where she’d cleaned the day before. “Good morning, Miss Garrett.”

Claire Garrett turned and smiled at Peyton. The twinkle in her green eyes sparkled like polished peridots. She placed her feather duster on the table. “Good morning to you, too. I figured you wouldn’t be up until later this morning.”

Peyton returned the tall, heavyset woman’s friendly smile. “I couldn’t sleep. Not with that annoying woodpecker drumming on the tree outside my bedroom. I also need to check on the horses.”

“You don’t have to check on the horses, because I overheard Ryan tell Sheldon he was going to make the rounds this morning because you probably would be exhausted from the wedding.” Claire smoothed back the stick-straight strands of snow-white hair she’d pinned into a neat bun. She wore her ubiquitous pale gray uniform and white rubber-soled shoes. “Now about that woodpecker. I hear that little sucker whenever I dust and vacuum your room. I wish there was some way to get him to move to another tree.”

“There are a few alternatives,” Peyton said. “We can use a repellent without harming him. It’s known as the flasher. It is a combination of colors, fluttering and sounds that mimic the strike movements of predatory birds. I’m going to go online and order one.”

“Once you get it I’ll have one of the men hang it where the little annoyance can see it. By the way, you looked spectacular last night dancing with Mr. Thomas. I heard some of the young fellas talking about asking you out.”

She forced a smile she didn’t quite feel. She wasn’t interested in going out with the young fellas. “Did you enjoy yourself last night?”

Claire nodded. “Yes. I thought it was ingenious to use a real wedding as a theme for an open house. But I’m really looking forward to ours because I love barbecues. The chefs ordered three whole hogs. They’re planning to smoke one and roast the others in the ground on hot coals like they do in Hawaii.” Claire excitedly outlined the entire menu for the farm’s open house. She then revealed what she’d heard about the Harridans’ get-together. “They’ve decided on a Vegas theme, complete with table and board games, slot machines and roulette wheels. When they heard we were going to have a live band and karaoke, the Harridans hired several celebrity impersonators: Cher, Elvis, Bette Midler and Lady Gaga.”

“I’m really looking forward to that,” Peyton admitted, stepping off the last stair.

“Bruce Thornton’s housekeeper told me their open house will be a drive-in movie. Most young folks nowadays don’t know anything about drive-ins.”

“There’s one only a few miles from where I grew up.” Claire’s talkativeness shocked Peyton. Normally the woman never said more than good morning or good evening whenever they encountered each other. And it’d taken the housekeeper a long time before she’d stopped calling her Missy rather than Peyton.

“Sheldon and Renee are sleeping in late this morning.”

“Where’s Virginia?” Peyton asked.

“She and the other kids spent the night with Gus and Beatrice.” Claire shook her head. “Those kids love hanging out at Tricia’s grandpa’s house. God bless Beatrice. I don’t know how she’s able to deal with six little children underfoot. The Lord knew not to give me any because as one of eight all I ever wanted was peace and quiet.” She flushed attractively. “I know I’m running off at the mouth this morning, but I suppose I’m still wound up from last night when the DJ played all of my favorite songs from the ’70s and ’80s.”

“He was good,” Peyton confirmed.

The DJ had arranged his music by decades. He’d begun with the ’50s and brought it up to date with hip-hop, techno and dance favorites. And he’d programmed his computerized playlist to play nonstop, intermingling decades so there was something for everyone. At no time was the dance floor empty.

And Peyton couldn’t remember a time when she’d danced that much. She’d danced for when she’d missed her junior and high-school dances because she’d elected to stay home and study. She’d also danced for when she’d opted not to go to the club frequented by her college friends whose weekend partying began Thursday night and sometimes didn’t end until Sunday morning. She smiled, because she intended to do it again later that afternoon. There was no way she would be able to make up for the sacrifices she’d made for her career choice, but Peyton intended to enjoy herself until she established herself as an independent equine veterinarian.

“I’m going over to the dining hall for breakfast. Would you like me to bring you anything back?”

Claire picked up the duster. “No, thanks, Missy. After I get through with my dusting I’ll call and have someone bring me a plate. I don’t need to be rattling pots and pans if Sheldon and the missus want to sleep later than usual.”

Peyton groaned inwardly. The housekeeper was back to calling her Missy. “I’ll see you later.” She decided to walk to the dining hall instead of driving to ease her overworked leg muscles. What she wouldn’t give for a massage this morning.

The instant she stepped out of the house the distinctive aroma of grilled food wafted to her nose. The tradition of hosting a yearly open house had begun to exhibit new spring foals for sale and/or breeding purposes. Then Sheldon went one step further when he served food and included music. That year he sold three retired Thoroughbreds he’d put out to stud. Several of the owners met, deciding to hold the event every two years instead of yearly, and that each farm would adopt a specific theme. The owners and their trainers now met prior to the open houses to negotiate the buying and selling of horseflesh.

It felt good to walk, something Peyton didn’t do enough of and would begin now that she had a natural spa in which to exercise. Most of the farm’s ten thousand acres had paved roads and footpaths. There was also the pool for swimming laps. The schoolhouse had been expanded to include a gym for the children to play and work out.

She reached the dining hall, pushing open the door. There were six men standing around the inside. The tension in the large space was so strong it was palpable. “What’s going on, Lee?” she asked one of the grooms. He’d wound an elastic hair tie around shoulder-length dreads under a baseball cap.

Turning, his eyes widened when he saw Peyton. “Oh, good morning, Doc. It looks as if there’s not going to be any hot food for breakfast or lunch. The cooks claim they’re too busy cooking for the open house.”

Breakfasts and lunches were always set up as a buffet, while dinners were sit-down with white tablecloths, flowers, and place setting with wineglasses and water goblets. Sheldon claimed he wanted to expose the farm’s children to the fine dining missing in family-style chain restaurants.

Peyton often wondered what her life would’ve been like if she’d been raised on the horse farm. Would she have become a veterinarian? And if not, then what? Would she, like a few of the recent high-school graduates, get into their cars and drive as far away from the only lifestyle they’d known for seventeen or eighteen years?

Before the establishment of the Blackstone Farms Day School all of the children boarded the school bus that would take them into town to the local schools and drop them off at the end of the school day. Their friends were farm children; they learned to drive tractors and other farm vehicles before reaching double digits, but there were also drawbacks to living in a self-contained community.

Many complained about the lack of privacy. There were cameras everywhere, monitoring their coming and going. For the few seeking to form relationships they found themselves hampered either by the discerning eyes of adults, but also by the discomfort of having to see an ex every day if or when a relationship ended. Some stayed after graduating and many more left the farm. Lee Washington had become one of those who’d stayed.

“What about waffles?” Peyton asked. She occasionally made her own Belgian waffles, topping them with fresh seasonal fruit.

“No waffles, no toast, no nothing,” Lee spat out. He pointed to the flyer taped to the inside of the door. “There are cold cereals, yogurt, milk, juice and fresh fruit for breakfast and salad and sandwiches for lunch. They didn’t do this two years ago. What the hell do they think we are? We’re farm folks, not farm animals,” he continued, grumbling angrily.

“It’s only two meals, Lee,” she said when she wanted to tell the muscular young man he could forego his usually fat- and calorie-laden breakfast and lunch for one day. She noticed most of the men fortified themselves with eggs, bacon, sausage, grits, home fries, corned beef hash and pancakes for breakfast at least five days a week. The exception was the jockeys who ordered egg whites, turkey bacon or sausage along with a lot of fruit and vegetables. Jockeys ideally weighed between 100 and 150 pounds in addition to being in excellent physical condition. Blackstone Farms’ jockeys had set their own maximum benchmark at 130 pounds.

“I bet the other farms don’t starve their people when they have their open houses.”

Lee gave her a steely-eyed stare that almost forced her to take a step backward. But then Peyton refused to back down from the supposedly intimidating glare. “Don’t even go there,” she warned him in a quiet tone.