They stood expectantly for what seemed like a long time. He missed the sensation of Madeline’s arm resting on his. She’d taken it as they walked over, listening to him as he wrestled with his nerves about meeting a family and navigating a relationship that was new to all of them. But as they approached, she’d released him, a cruel reminder of this unusual dance of identity they found themselves in and for the sake of propriety.
No one is going to make you marry me.
He’d had to content himself with the hint of her scent and the weight of her skirts brushing against his leg. But my, how hungry he was becoming for her. One taste was normally all he required of a woman before the fascination waned. As he tortured himself with the implications of his insatiable need for her, the door opened.
Daniel Chandler stood in the threshold. His brother. Beau had no idea what Hollis had said to them, but all the confidence he’d found in his dealings with Nelson Taylor deserted him.
“Good evening,” Beau said, then held his breath, waiting for the awkwardness. Instead, Daniel’s face broke into a wide smile as he held out his arms, welcoming Beau with an embrace.
It was the strangest sensation, this warm welcome. Beau had rarely been so warmly embraced after his mother passed away, particularly by a man. Frank was never one for outward signs of affection, at least where Beau was concerned. He wondered if it was his imagination, this distinct sense of a bond between them. But it felt real.
They released their embrace. Annie stood alongside her husband, waving them inside.
“Pjila'si,” she said in the tongue of her foremothers. “Come in,” she repeated in English. “Make yourself at home.”
She winked at Beau, and he realized that in some way, he was home. He was excited and nervous all at once as he crossed the threshold. He wanted to reach out to Madeline. Her presence wasn’t just intoxicating. It was comforting.
“These are for you,” Madeline said, offering a bouquet of flowers and greens she’d picked earlier. Like Madeline herself, the arrangement was bold, full of unexpected pairings of colour and shapes. “I’m a horrible baker, but I do know something about plants.”
“More than a few things I’d say,” Annie said, then gestured toward the front parlour. “Beau, why don’t you sit with Hollis and Teddy, and get to know your family. Maddy, perhaps you can come with me and pick out a vase for these.”
Madeline looked to Beau, asking him the silent question—will you be fine without me? Even now, it seemed, she was on guard for him. He nodded in return. She followed Annie, disappearing toward the kitchen. It was ridiculous that he felt her absence when she was only a few dozen feet away.
He followed Daniel into the cozy parlour where Teddy and Hollis stood. Anticipation crackled in the air, and Beau found an expected hitch in his breath as he was hit with an overwhelming sense of longing. He wasn’t sure what to do with his hands, until Hollis held his out.
“I know that you weren’t expecting any of this,” Hollis said, “and you don’t owe me anything. But if you are welcome to it, perhaps we can shake hands?”
Beau held out his hand, and this time, knowing this man was his father, found it wasn’t enough. He moved in closer, motioning for an embrace. A hug from his father.
What started as a tentative embrace turned into something more. Comfort and longing mixed with each other—sensations he’d sought in the bottom of a whisky glass, or in late night negotiations chasing a business deal, or the satisfaction watching the bottom line of the company grow to earn even the most passing acknowledgment from Frank. But those memories were hollow. Right now, it felt as if Beau had spent a life time in a windowless room with only an oil lamp for light, and had just stepped out into the daylight for the first time.
And, like looking at the sun, it brought tears to his eyes.
He squeezed them shut, trying not to make an ass of himself when his heart was suddenly so full he thought he might burst.
“It’s all right, my boy,” he heard Hollis whisper in his ear. “God didn’t go through the trouble of giving men tears if they weren’t meant to fall from time to time.”
Something inside him broke apart at that gentleness. And for a moment or two, he held on and let those tears fall.
At last they broke the embrace with a gentle pat on the back, and soon the tears turned to laughter. Save for Teddy, who was treated to a bottle of root beer, whisky was poured and toasts were made.
“I guess you got a little more than just a stone house and a berry patch,” Daniel said as he took a seat on a chair. “Of course, I got a little more than just a headache from some rich stranger who was planning to sell my best sheep pasture without taking a look at the place.”
Beau took a sip of his whisky.
“You must have been thrilled to hear I was coming,” he said. “Trust me, I wasn’t thrilled to be here.” Until someone shot Frank da Silva and framed Beau for the crime.
A sliver of grief ran through Beau, and he shifted in his seat at the memory of the man who raised him as his own.
“Teddy,” Daniel said, “Why don’t you go see if your mum needs any help in the kitchen?”
Teddy, who had the sense of being dismissed, gave his father a pleading look to stay.
“I know,” his father said, answering his unvoiced question, “but we have some private things to talk about.”
“Is it about the letter?” the boy asked. “I know about that.”
Daniel and Hollis exchanged a look before returning his attention to Teddy.
