He suddenly felt a sharp prick and opened his eyes. One dark eyebrow winged upward, as though she knew exactly what he was about. “Behave,” she cautioned with a warning glance.
“Where’s the fun in that?” he teased, drawing out her smile.
“Fun or not, you’ll do as you’re told, or I’ll find the dullest needle in this house and pick out the splinters with it. Blindfolded.”
Trace feigned affront. “You are a cold, cruel woman, Victoria Carter.”
He meant the words in jest, but he watched as she stiffened. Her smile disappeared, and he feared she took the words to heart.
“Tori, I didn’t mean anything. I was joking with you.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line, and he could see her blink rapidly, as though she tried to chase away unshed tears.
“Tori?” He cupped her chin with the hand she didn’t hold and tipped it up so he could look in her face. She still refused to meet his gaze.
“I’m sorry. I was only teasing. You aren’t cold or cruel. You’re one of the kindest, gentlest women I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.” He brushed his knuckles along her jaw, surprised to find what felt like a lump there. Had Wendell beaten her to the point of breaking bones? If so, the man truly was lucky he was dead or Trace would have hunted him down like a rabid dog.
“Thank you,” she whispered and blinked a few more times before she resumed pulling out the splinters.
The moment she finished, Trace stood and pulled her into his arms. He couldn’t help himself. She just looked so sad and she’d grown so quiet that he didn’t know what to do to make her feel better, to return the smile she’d lost. For the length of several heartbeats, he simply held her, enjoying the experience far more than he should. She fit in his arms like she was the one person in the world meant to be there. But how could that be?
Before he considered holding her forever and never letting go, he pressed a quick kiss to the top of her fragrant head then stepped back.
He glanced at his hands, pleased to see she’d gotten every splinter, even if the process had been almost more than he could endure. For a woman who’d been married a number of years, she certainly seemed naïve when it came to men.
It was a good thing Trace held women in high regard and didn’t believe in dallying with them just for the sport of it. He did his best not to leave behind broken hearts from his work, but this was the first time a woman had fascinated him to the point he couldn’t get her out of his thoughts, even if he’d wanted to.
“I, um…Are there any other splinters you um…” She held the tweezers out to him.
He grinned and shook his head. “If any are left, I’ll take care of them later.” He moved toward the door, intent on escaping before he did something completely insane, like take her in his arms and kiss her until they both were senseless. “Look, Tori, I…”
The door swung open and Maddie raced inside with Claire right behind her.
The child squealed and greeted him with a big hug. “Hi, Mr. Travers! Did you come to have cider with me?”
“Oh, well, I…” He looked down into the child’s sweet, imploring face and found it impossible to tell her no. “I sure did, Maddie. Do you think there’s enough cider for you to share some with me?”
“Yes! Our cook always makes plenty,” Maddie said, hugging him again before she began flinging off her outer garments in her haste to enjoy her after-school treat. She splashed her fingers under the faucet when Victoria held her up to the sink then squirmed to get down before her hands were even partially dry. She ran over to Trace, grabbed his hand, and pulled him to the table. “Sit by me, Mr. Travers. I’ll tell you all about school today. My friends Maura and Erin and I…”
He glanced up at Victoria as she stood next to Claire ladling cider into cups and winked at her. Much to his chagrin, she almost missed the cup, causing Claire to choke back a laugh and take over the chore.
Later, after Maddie had bundled up and gone out to the workshop to visit her father with Claire, Trace once again stood at the door with Victoria watching his every move. He stepped outside and retrieved his tool belt along with his gaffs. As he buckled them on, Victoria bent down to get a closer look at the stiff leather harness that fit around his lower leg. The top part fastened just below his knee with vertical strips of leather running down to his ankle where another buckle fastened and a wicked-looking metal spike stuck out the side.
“What’s that for?” she asked, pointing to the spike.
“That’s there so I can hook my leg around the pole and hold on with my hands free.
“Gracious!” she said, straightening and staring at him. “Just passing by, what you do seems interesting, but up close, it is quite dangerous. You’re a brave man, Trace Travers.”
“I don’t know about that,” he said, offering her a puckish grin. There was no way he’d admit it took every ounce of fortitude he owned to climb up that pole each day. He hated it. Hated heights. Hated being suspended so far above the ground with only two little metal spikes, a leather belt, and prayers holding him upright. No, he wouldn’t tell her that, even if it was true.
He edged toward the porch steps. “I better get back to work. Thank you for digging out the splinters and for the refreshments.”
“You’re very welcome, Mr. Travers.”
He looked down at her, admiring the way the light skimmed over her flawless complexion. She was about to take away his breath right along with the remaining shreds of his good sense. With his most charming smile, he tilted her chin up slightly and let his gaze tangle with hers. He saw interest and something that looked a whole lot like yearning in her eyes. It both fascinated him and made him fearful.
“That seems like an overly formal way to address me. I know for a fact you called me Trace earlier. I’d be quite pleased if you’d continue doing so.”
A hint of a blush stained her cheeks, and she looked away from him, her gaze focused on some unknown point in the distance. “I don’t think that would be the best idea, Mr. Travers. I was just…It was…I only...” She sighed.
“Well, Tori, I intend to continue calling you that regardless of it being a good or bad idea.” He winked at her again and hurried down the steps. “Have a good evening.”
“You too.” She hesitated only a moment then graced him with a warm smile. “Trace.” She waved once then bustled inside the house.
Trace grinned to himself the whole way back to his wagon, gratified he’d made a little progress where Victoria was concerned.
He didn’t know why it mattered so much to him, but it did.
Chapter Nine
“You have to keep pulling,” Victoria insisted from beside Trace when he stopped to break off a piece of candy and pop it in his mouth.
“I’m not sure I have a knack for this. Maybe you better show me,” he said, biting back a grin when Victoria stepped in front of him and began pulling on the taffy, stretching it as she walked backward with it.
“It’s not a matter of having a knack, Trace. It’s a matter of not eating it before it’s ready,” she said with a cheeky smile over her shoulder.