Her presence in Pinewood was bound to stir people’s memories, to bring back the anger and distrust that had faced him when he’d come to Pinewood to find Payne and tell him of their parents’ deaths.
He stiffened, breathed hard against the pressure in his chest and rubbed the tense muscles in the back of his neck. He hadn’t suspected the violence and depravity that ran in his brother’s veins until that day—had been sickened when he’d learned what Payne had done. Now, his brother’s actions seemed more real. And if seeing Sadie Spencer made him feel that way...
He huffed out a breath and pushed away the memory of the terror in her eyes when she saw him. Sorry as he was for her, he couldn’t let her destroy all the goodwill he had so painstakingly cultivated and ruin the new life and business he’d built here. He’d have to convince her—
“What are you doing? Get away from my granddaughter!”
He jerked his head around. Rachel Townsend stood in the doorway, a scowl in the place of her normal pleasant expression, her hands gripping a wet cloth.
“I said get away from my granddaughter!” She rushed toward him, her lips pressed into a tight line, her small, free hand waving through the air.
Was her anger because of the confusion that was occurring more often? Or was her reaction to his being there beside her granddaughter nothing to do with her slipping grasp on the present? Was the condemnation toward him for Payne’s heinous act already returning?
He clenched his jaw, stepped away from the settee and headed outside to get Manning.
* * *
The trembling woke her. Bile pushed at her throat. She’d had the nightmare again. Sadie drew in a slow, deep breath to control the nausea and opened her eyes.
“Feeling better, sweeting?” Her grandmother frowned down at her. “What happened, Sadie? Why did you swoon like that? Are you ill?”
She blinked, took another breath. Her head cleared. She was home. “No, Nanna, I’m not ill. It must have been the...excitement of coming home.” Something cold slid across her temple. She lifted her hand, removed the wet cloth and pushed to a sitting position, still quivering. The nightmare had never before come while she was awake. It must have been returning to Butternut Hill that—
The sound of boot heels thudding against the wood floor jolted her upright. She turned toward the doorway, stared at her nightmare in the flesh.
“It’s...all right, Sa...die.”
She glanced at her grandfather being carried in the man’s arms, looked back up at that bearded face, shuddered.
“I’m Cole Aylward, not...my brother.” He strode across the room toward them.
Payne Aylward’s brother? She backed up, bumped against the settee and grasped the high, curved arm.
“Give me the cloth, Sadie. You’re getting everything wet.”
She looked down at the dripping cloth, eased her grip on it and handed it to her grandmother—bit down on her lower lip to keep from calling her back as she started from the room.
“Thank...you.”
She darted her gaze back to the man lowering her grandfather into his favored chair, brushed a wet tendril of hair back off her forehead and tried to make some sort of sense of everything. “May I ask what you are doing here, Mr. Aylward?” I should think this home is the last place you would want to be. She pressed her lips together to keep from turning the thought into speech.
“Manning’s not yet able to get around by himself. I drop by throughout the day to see if he needs anything.”
She stared at his broad shoulders, his powerful arms and hands. “You come every day?” Her voice quavered and she took a breath to steady it, squared her shoulders at his answering nod.
“Then I’m certain you’ll be pleased that will no longer be necessary. As I’m here to care for my grandfather now, there’ll be no need for us to impinge on your...kindness...further.”
Her courage failed when he straightened and turned to face her. She hid her shaking hands in the folds of her long skirt and stiffened her spine.
“And are you going to carry Manning to his bed when it’s time for him to retire? And carry him to the table in the morning when he rises? Or out to the garden so he can enjoy the sun and fresh air?”
His tone was conversational, but there was an underlying steeliness in Cole Aylward’s voice that caught at her throat and stole her breath. She stared at him, stunned by the questions he so calmly presented—questions that emphasized how ill-prepared she was for the changed situation in her home. She clenched her hidden hands and lifted her chin. “I shall hire someone.”
“No! Want...Cole...”
“Thank you, Manning.” Cole Aylward rested his large hand on her grandfather’s shoulder, then fixed his gaze on her. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness of my time, Miss Spencer, but there’s no need for you to go to that trouble or expense. Neighbors look out for one another, and—”
“Neighbors?”
“Yes.” A frown creased his forehead. “I thought your grandmother or...someone...would have written to tell you I took over Pay—my brother’s cabin and have built a shingle mill on the property.”
He lived in Payne’s cabin? So near... A chill skittered down her spine. Her pulse fluttered. She slipped her hand up to cover the base of her throat.
“Are you all right?” He started toward her.
She jerked back and he froze.
Her grandmother bustled into the room, her long skirts swishing back and forth with the sway of her ample hips, and beamed a smile at them. “Gertrude is ready to serve supper. Please bring Manning to the table, Cole.” Her smile widened, deepening the wrinkles in her aged face. “You’ll be joining us, of course. I had Gertrude set a place for you. We’re having roasted beef and potatoes.”
No! Don’t invite him! She stared at her grandmother in stunned silence. Had she forgotten what had happened? Her stomach roiled. She pressed her hand against it, drew air into her lungs to protest.
“Not tonight, Mrs. Townsend. Thank you kindly for the invitation, but I don’t wish to intrude upon your granddaughter’s homecoming. Next time, perhaps.”
Next time? So he was going to ignore her wishes.
“I’ll just carry Manning in and then come back a bit later to take him in to his bed.”
At least he was leaving for now. Good. She would have time to convince her grandfather it would be better to hire someone to help him. Her pulse steadied.
“Nonsense! I’ll not hear of it.” Her grandmother gave a small, dismissive wave with her pudgy hand. “You’re so kind to Father, the least we can do is offer our hospitality in return.”
Oh, Nanna, don’t—Father? Tears stung her eyes. She bowed her head and stared down at the leaf pattern woven into the blue silk of the settee as her grandmother chatted on about their daughter and her husband also joining
