Heart of Integrity (Hearts of the West, #2)

Chapter 14

“Oh, she’s probably just been delayed at the post office. I’m sure she’ll be here any minute.” Opal waved her hand dismissively.

Ifor nodded, though he couldn’t shake his concern. Helping Timothy at the mine had taken him longer than expected, and by the time he’d walked to Opal’s house, he assumed Susan would’ve been halfway through the chores she’d agreed to help the elderly lady with. But there had been no sign of her. And now, almost an hour later, there still wasn’t.

“Perhaps she got the days mixed up,” he offered.

“Oh, nonsense. She’s got her head screwed on properly, that girl. She knows it’s today.” Opal paused. “I can see why you like her. She seems like such a lovely girl. And very pretty.”

Ifor’s cheeks warmed. “Well, I recall a wise old friend counseling me to focus on spiritual matters, rather than?—”

“Less of the ‘old’, thank you very much!”

Opal’s chuckle was infectious, and soon Ifor was laughing along with her.

A knock at the door silenced them both.

“I’ll get it for you,” Ifor said, leaping to a stand.

Opal chuckled. “I wonder why...”

He tried to pretend he hadn’t heard her, but her second chuckle as he left the room told him she knew he had.

He rushed to the front door, and tried to compose himself a little before opening it.

His heart soared. There she was.

“Ah, Miss Kelly! Come in…”

If she was surprised to see that it was him answering the door instead of Opal, she didn’t show it. She mumbled a quiet thanks and kept her head low as she stepped inside.

He closed the door gently, his earlier concern returning with swift intensity. “How are you, today?”

“Oh, uh, grand, thanks. Grand.”

That was her way of saying she was fine. But she didn’t seem fine.

“Opal’s just through there.” He motioned with his hand, though he didn’t want her to leave the little hallway yet. Not until he could make sure that nothing serious was wrong.

“Thanks,” she muttered as she turned and walked away from him,toward the sitting room.

He followed her in, and couldn’t help but smile as he witnessedthe warm welcome Opal gave her.

But the smile that Miss Kelly offered herin return seemed forced. His own faded. What could be the matter?

“Sorry I’m so late, Mrs. Gray.” She sounded weary. Worn out.

Opal waved her hand. “Oh, don’t worry, dear.” She looked keenly at Miss Kelly. “I assumed you’d just been delayed at the post office.” Her tone turned the statement into more of a question, and Ifor wondered if she suspected—as he did—that it was something more serious than that.

Miss Kelly’s eyes wouldn’t meet his or Opal’s. “I had to pop home after work, so that held me up a bit.”

Ifor’s heart squeezed with compassion and concern. She looked...miserable. Almost grief-stricken.

“Well, why don’t you have some coffee with us before you get started with things? Or, indeed, you don’t have to start today if you’re too tired after work. I?—”

“No, I’ll do what I said I would.” An odd look passed across her face. “Would you like me to make the coffee, though?”

“Oh, that would be lovely.” Opal’s eyes twinkled. “But only if you’ll have a cup with us.”

A half-smile. More genuine this time. “Maybe just a small one,” Miss Kelly said, looking a little more relaxed. Just a little, though.

“Splendid!” Opal said with a grin.

“I’ll show you where everything is, if you like,” Ifor offered.

Miss Kelly glanced at him, barely catching his gaze. “Thanks.”

Something wasn’t right. Maybe once she settled in a bit and had some coffee, she’d open up to them more.

He led her to the kitchen and pointed at each cupboard, naming the contents without opening them.

“You really know your way around here. You must visit her a lot.” Still no eye contact, but her voice was gentle. Soft. And friendly.

“Multiple times a week. She’s like family.”

Miss Kelly switched the stove on. She pushed her sleeves up a littleand pumped the water into the little kettle.

“This one has the cups?” she asked, her hand resting on a cupboard handle.

“That’s right.”

She reached for the high cupboard, and as she did, her sleeve inched up a little more.

Ifor’s heart dropped. What was that on her wrist?

She placed three cups on the workbench and looked around. “Coffee in this one?”

He stared ather wrist as she pointed at another cupboard.

She froze, then tugged her sleeves down, her gaze darting and low.

“Miss Kelly... Is that—” His heart was hammering. “Is that a bruise on your wrist?”

Silence thickened the air.

He studied her. Her breathing was shallow and fast, and her gaze kept roaming the floor.

“Miss Kelly?—”

“It’s nothing. Hurt myself in the house, that’s all. I...fell.”

Well, that was a lie, if ever he’d heard one. “Fell.”

“The kitchen floor’s hard. I fell and banged my wrist on it. It’s nothing.”

He stepped closer to her. “Then look me in the eye and tell me that again.” His boldness surprised her—and himself.

She glanced up at him, theninstantly looked away.

“Miss Kelly, please. Tell me the truth. Let me help you, if you need it.” He gently clasped her wrists and raised them.

She paled before his eyes.

Never had his heart thrummed so nervously. Never had his mouth and throat been so dry.

She looked up at him, and their eyes met. Never had a woman awakened within him the feelings that this woman did. He’d had trust issues ever since Rhys died, but this woman—whom he barely knew... Deep down, he already trusted her.

Her warm eyes were full of sorrow. He fought an urge to brush his finger across her cheek, to pull her close to him and kiss her forehead.

His throat went dry. He not onlytrusted her, he feared he was falling in love with her. But in this moment, what really mattered was whether or not she trusted him, too. Trusted him enough to open up about whatever it was she was facing.

He drew a deep breath, steeling himself for what he might hear.“Did someone hurt you?”

The question itself was abhorrent to him. Who in their right mind could ever hurt her—hurt any woman?

Each second seemed to last an age as he awaited her response.

She blinked, fear replacing the sorrow in her eyes. She tugged her wrists out of his hands and smoothed her skirts. “I have to finish making the coffee.”

He stood there, frozen, like someone on the edge of a precipice. Surely, her lack of answer was, itself, an answer.

But who could have hurt her? And why?