The Protector's Promise

“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.