The Longing (6 page)

With an embarrassed gasp, she attempted to
vault from the chair, but several pairs of hands kept her still,
two of them placed very firmly on her hipbones.

“Wait a minute, missy.” Doc Finlay put a hand
to her forehead. “You sit right there until I tell you
otherwise.”

Amelia glanced at the faces gathered around
her, saw Eva Bentley’s censuring look, and wanted to crawl behind
the nearest piece of furniture. Kyle's brothers watched with a
mixture of concern and a flicker of amusement. Evelyn was telling
Amelia to relax, and her own mother looked like she expected Amelia
to expire any minute.

The pounding in her chest left Amelia short
of breath and she feared she was going to faint again. Despite her
efforts to remain upright, she trembled and sagged against Kyle's
chest. She turned her face toward the crook of his neck. “Get me
out of here,” she whispered. “Please.”

“What did you say, honey?” her mother
asked.

Mortified that her guests might have heard
her, Amelia clutched Kyle’s hand.

“She asked for some air,” he said.

Amelia felt herself being gathered against
Kyle’s body and propelled upward as he gained his feet. He stood
with her draped over his hard arms in the middle of the parlor with
everyone staring at them, but his formidable expression revealed
none of the trembling in his body or the pounding of his chest
against Amelia’s side. “Excuse us,” he said, then limped across the
parlor, through the foyer, and out the front entrance without a
single word of explanation.

An airy grunt came from his throat as he
carried Amelia down the steps and she glanced up in alarm. “Your
leg!”

“Is killing me.”

“Then why on earth are you carrying me? Put
me down.” She tensed in his arms, but instead of a grimace of pain,
Kyle gave her a sad smile that made her world tilt.

“I’ll make it a bit farther, Amelia.”

She tried to ignore the bunching and shifting
of his shoulder muscles as he carried her toward a wrought-iron
bench beneath a maple tree, but it was impossible to ignore a man
like Kyle Grayson. At sixteen years old, she’d had the same problem
whenever Kyle visited her father’s sawmill. Despite being tense and
too serious, Kyle had been incredibly handsome and so mysteriously
aloof that Amelia couldn’t resist watching him. In her father’s
presence, she would share polite conversation with Kyle, but the
minute her father was out of earshot, Amelia had openly flirted.
The more Kyle ignored her, the more desperately she’d craved a
response. Finally, one spring evening Kyle pulled her behind a
stack of lumber and kissed her. He gave her no warning and it
wasn’t in the least romantic, but it was the most thrilling,
earth-shaking experience Amelia had ever had in her life.

While she’d still been reeling from the
momentous impact of her first kiss, Kyle warned her to quit playing
with him then stormed across the mill to finish his business with
her father. Amelia had stood in ankle-deep sawdust with her heart
pounding and her fists clenched, cursing him even as she prayed he
would come back and kiss her again.

But he hadn’t come back to her, nor had he
shown any interest in doing so the rest of that summer or during
his many subsequent visits to her father’s lumberyard. Amelia
hadn’t forgotten Kyle or his incredible kiss, but she’d eventually
turned her attention to Richard, who flattered her sore ego.

From beneath her lashes, Amelia peeked at
Kyle’s handsome face only inches from her own. He was still
arrogant and aloof and too damned handsome for his own good, but
she would gladly overlook all of that if he would kiss her again
and make the world disappear like he had that day five years ago.
She would give anything to escape the agonizing heartache tearing
her apart right now.

Kyle lowered Amelia onto the bench, then
collapsed beside her. Air hissed between his clenched teeth as he
eased his throbbing leg out in front of him.

“A cold compress might help relieve the
swelling.”

“I’ll be all right,” he said, wishing she’d
stop being so concerned about him. Every time Amelia looked at him
with those sad brown eyes it gouged his conscience. As soon as he
caught his breath, he was making a straight line toward the
carriage.

“Thank you for taking me out of there.”

He nodded, relieved to escape the house as
well.

“Did you see Eva’s livid expression? The
school board members are furious with me.”

Kyle had been more concerned about the look
in Catherine’s eyes. He couldn’t tell if it had been surprise or
pain in her expression, but he hoped whatever it was didn’t mean
the end of their private arrangement.

“I’ll probably lose my position,” Amelia
said. “I’m expected to protect my reputation at all times. In all
circumstances.”

“That’s absurd.” Kyle stared at her. “You
were out of your mind with grief.”

“The school board doesn’t see it that way.”
Amelia lowered her lashes and smoothed the pad of her thumb across
her palm. “My curfew is dusk unless I’m with my mother or father,
or at a function approved by the board. I can’t wear bright colors.
No consorting with men outside immediate family, even in
emergencies. I’m not allowed to marry while under contract.” She
paused for a breath and met his eyes. “I think you understand where
this is leading.”

“Why do you agree to live like this?” he
asked, feeling as if he were watching a favorite pet struggling
against its leash. He could never live his life under such
restrictions.

“I’m a teacher. It’s expected of me.”

“What does being a teacher have to do with
the color of your dress?”

“I don’t know,” she said softly. “I think the
board is afraid of making the same mistake that they made with Miss
Denby. I can’t blame them for being cautious.”

“Climbing onto a horse because you needed
help is a far cry from climbing onto a desk because you...well, the
point is, we’ve done nothing wrong. They shouldn’t punish you
because of another woman’s misconduct. You were upset last night.
It was desperation that drove you to take a ride from me. That’s
all.”

“I know, but my desperation could cost me my
position.”

Kyle pinched the bridge of his nose, wishing
his leg would stop throbbing. “I’ll make Phil understand that
nothing improper happened,” he said, lowering his hand. “If you or
your mother need anything, though, I’d appreciate it if you’d let
me know.”

“Thank you.” She inhaled as if trying to
decide how to voice the question he saw in her eyes, then she
released her breath in a rush. “Was my father aware of what was
happening to him when he collapsed?”

Unprepared for her direct question, Kyle
remained silent. Though he wanted to tell Amelia about that night
and clear his conscience, Jeb was right, now wasn’t the time. She
had enough worry without him adding burdens to her narrow
shoulders.

“Did Papa say anything? Other than that he
loves me?”

He sure as hell did. But no matter what Kyle
owed Tom, wedding his daughter was out of the question. Tying
himself to a woman who needed him but didn’t want him was a recipe
for disaster. Kyle had made that painful mistake once and had
learned his lesson. Evelyn had needed him but she hadn’t loved
him.

Kyle glanced at Amelia and wondered if there
was a special man in her life who might step forward and offer to
keep and protect her now that her father was gone, but he knew he
couldn’t pry into her personal life. Still, Tom had warned Kyle to
keep someone away from Amelia. Perhaps it was a man whom Tom didn’t
approve of, a man Amelia was seeing in secret.

“Your father asked me to look after you and
your mother,” Kyle said, searching for a way to broach the subject
without offending her.

“Are you saying Papa knew he was dying?” she
asked, her voice filled with pain.

The silence lengthened as Kyle tried to
decide if it would cause her more heartache to know that her father
had been aware of his impending death and appeared resigned to it,
or if it would be kinder to tell her that he had been
oblivious.

Her fingers curled lightly over his forearm.
“Please. I need to know.”

Kyle couldn’t look at her knowing he’d been
the one to cause the pain in her eyes. “Your father seemed more
concerned about you and your mother than himself.”

“He would.”

Her quiet assurance fueled Kyle’s
self-condemnation. Tom Drake had been a man of integrity. If Kyle
had reminded himself of that before he went storming into Tom’s
office, maybe he wouldn’t be trying to avoid Amelia’s tortured eyes
and the feeling that he was being crushed by his own guilt.

Hell, maybe he should just tell Amelia
everything. Just blurt it out and let her hate him. He could live
with that. He deserved it. But she didn’t deserve more heartache
when she was suffering so much already.

“We’re not your obligation, Kyle.” Their eyes
met. “Not that I don’t appreciate your promise to Papa, or his
concern for us. We’ll be all right.” She tried to smile, but it
didn’t reach her eyes.

Worry and fear lines etched her face and Kyle
knew Amelia and her mother wouldn’t be all right at all. The urge
to smooth away her frown caught Kyle by surprise. Maybe it was the
pain in her eyes, or the tiny line marring her forehead, that
melted him, but whatever it was, it weakened his resistance, which
scared the hell out of him. Before he was stupid enough to lift his
hand, he linked his fingers together and braced his elbows on his
knees. He wouldn’t look at her. He would keep his promise to Tom,
but he would be damned if he would let this urge to protect Amelia
go any farther than financial support. She would have to find
comfort from someone else.

“I wanted to talk with you privately,” Amelia
said, breaking into Kyle’s thoughts, “because I’m hoping you can
tell me what Papa’s mill is worth.”

Kyle’s protective instincts snapped to
attention and he sat upright, his chest filling with fresh air.
Amelia could only be asking for one reason. As if Tom Drake had
climbed up out of his grave and kicked Kyle in the shin to get his
attention, Kyle suddenly knew he’d found the perfect way to give
Amelia and her mother security.

By buying Tom’s mill, Kyle could fulfill his
promise to Tom, as well as make Grayson lumber the largest sawmill
business in the county, which had been a dream of Kyle’s for
several years. Despite the poor timing of the huge financial
undertaking, owning the depot along with Tom’s lumberyard made
sense to Kyle. He would discuss the investment with his brothers
before making an offer, but he knew they would ultimately leave the
burden of this decision on his shoulders.

“To me, your father’s lumberyard is worth
more than anyone else will pay you.”

Amelia’s mouth dropped open.

“I assume you’re asking because your mother
intends to sell it,” he said, beginning the process of assuming
ownership of Drakes’ Sawmill. “I’ll need to discuss this with my
brothers first, but Jeb can confirm the worthiness of our
offer.”

Something in her expression shifted and her
eyes sparked with life, as if a lantern had been lit in a dark
house. She met his eyes with a boldness that unnerved Kyle. “Mama’s
hoping I’ll use Papa’s mill as a dowry.”

Kyle’s heart jolted and he jerked to his
feet. The pain in his leg, and the shock of Amelia’s comment, made
him grab for the back of the bench to steady himself. He’d made a
private vow the night Evelyn broke their engagement that he would
never ask another woman for a promise she might not keep. Never
would he put himself through that hell again. He was content to
pour his heart into his sawmill. He could depend on his
business.

“Sorry, Amelia, but I’m not interested in
acquiring a wife.”

A bright flush spread across her cheeks and
her shoulders stiffened as she stood to face him. “I wasn’t
attempting to gauge your level of interest, Kyle.”

She wasn’t? Then why the hell had she
mentioned using the mill as a dowry?

“If you want to buy the mill, you’ll have to
approach my mother yourself.”

Kyle reached out to stop her from leaving, to
tell her he hadn’t meant to insult her, but she yanked her arm free
and left him standing beside the bench feeling like an egotistical
fool.

Although the
board members expressed sincere sympathy over the loss of Amelia’s
father, they filled her ears with a lengthy diatribe about the
necessity and importance of proper conduct. They roundly chastised
her for putting her reputation, and theirs, at risk. But after
reviewing the rules of her contract and the circumstances of her
misconduct with painstaking thoroughness, they allowed her to
return to her position.

Instead of feeling relieved, Amelia was
weary. She barely had the energy to visit her mother each evening,
and for almost two weeks, she spent her time huddled alone in her
apartment, hating her life, missing her father with a desperation
that frightened her, and cursing Kyle Grayson for buying the
mill.

He’d delivered a bank draft to her mother
this morning and the amount of his offer was blatantly commensurate
with his aversion to marriage. Kyle had made it very clear he
wasn’t interested in Amelia or her indirect proposal. Why she had
even mentioned her mother’s idea about using the mill as a dowry
Amelia couldn’t say, but she wished to God she had never opened her
mouth. Kyle’s horrified expression had been a painful blow to her
dignity.

Mortified that she might cross paths with
Kyle, Amelia glanced over her shoulder several times during her
mile walk to town, the last piece of freedom the board allowed her.
She dreaded meeting anyone, hearing sympathetic comments from
neighbors and friends, or facing the stares of curious gossips. She
didn’t want to display her heartache for anyone, sympathetic or
otherwise. She wanted to stay home and lick her wounds in private,
but she had promised her mother she would take Kyle’s draft and pay
off the mortgage on the house. So Amelia swallowed her apprehension
and entered the bank.