Gray swept her into a hug. “We came back the moment weheard Luke was home. Now he’s landed himself in the hospital?”
Caroline glanced over his shoulder. Annabelle stood a few feet away, looking cold and out of place.
“Annabelle,” she said with a frosty nod, and Annabelle returned it with a hesitant smile.
Caroline had nothing else to say to Annabelle and turned her attention back to Gray, filling him in on how Luke’s hands got burned in a foolishly heroic attempt to salvage papers from a fire.
“He’s awake if you want to go in and see him,” she offered.
“No, I need to know howyou’redoing,” Gray said, both hands on her shoulders as he peered into her face, his eyes crinkled in concern. “I’m sorry about President McKinley. I know how much you admired him.”
A sheen of tears prickled. She nodded, for speaking right now would be difficult. Buffalo seemed like another lifetime, but the president had died only three weeks ago. Since then she had planned his funeral, welcomed a new administration into the White House, and helped Luke take down Captain Holland. Gray knew none of those things. He’d been completely cut off out in Kansas and could have no concept of the bone-numbing ordeal she’d been wading through.
“I’m doing okay,” she managed to say without meeting his eyes.
“I have a carriage. Can I arrange for it to take you back to the White House?”
The question took her aback. Gray didn’t even know about what had happened.
“No,” she said, her lip beginning to wobble.
Gray looked closer. “What’s wrong?” he demanded. “Caroline, tell me.”
“Ida fired me,” she choked out. “I don’t work there anymore.”
Her face crumpled and two fat tears spilled over, and then a terrible, keening wail came out of her throat. Was that noise really from her? Gray pulled her into his arms, rocking her like a baby, and the last thread broke. She bawled like an infant.
“I’m so sorry, baby girl,” he murmured, his voice rough with sympathy.
It made her cry harder. Why was she breaking down like this? She hadn’t shed a single tear after the president died. It had been a week since Ida threw her out of the house, but the pain of rejection hadn’t lessened. How mortifying to collapse in front of Annabelle, but Caroline cried so hard she couldn’t even breathe. The exhaustion, the grief. It was all too much. If Nathaniel was here, she wouldn’t feel so fragile.
As if he could read her mind, Gray said the least helpful thing possible. “Where’s Nathaniel?”
She pulled back to wipe her face. “Off doing whatever it is that’s so important.” Like catching Captain Holland’s associates, but she wished to the bottom of her heart he’d stayed with her this afternoon.
“Go on inside,” she said, blotting her tears. “Luke is anxious to see you.” Then she looked at Annabelle. It was time to act like a good Christian, even if she didn’t feel like one. “You too,” she said to Annabelle. “Luke specifically said he’s looking forward to seeing you again. He bears no grudge.”
Gray’s face lit up. Her tiny show of concession seemed to mean the world to him. “Come with us,” he urged.
She scrambled for an excuse but could find none and led the way back inside. She stood near the back of the room to watch the reunion from afar. Moving his arms caused Luke’s burned hands excruciating pain, which made any sort of embrace impossible, but his smile was wide as Gray pulled up a chair beside the bed. After a few greetings, Gray dove right in with the hard questions.
“Did you have to lie to me every time I visited you in Cuba?”
“Do we have to start this off with a reprimand?” Luke asked, and the wind immediately went out of Gray. He winced and turned away but regained his composure quickly.
“You’re right. I’m sorry ...you’re entirely right.”
Now it was Luke who looked guilty. “Don’t apologize. I’ve caused everyone a lot of grief, and I’m sorry about it.” The conversation faltered to an awkward stop. Luke glanced over at Annabelle, who looked exquisitely uncomfortable. “Is that a new dress?” he asked politely.
Annabelle glanced down and fingered the maroon cotton frock. “No, it was my mother’s. We remade it in the nineties to fit me. Of course, now it’s almost 1902, so it probably needs updating again.”
Gray reached for her hand. “Or we can go shopping and buy something new. I know that strikes terror into your thrifty soul, but we can afford some new gowns.”
“Or maybe Caroline can take her shopping,” Luke said, his eyes calculating.
Caroline shifted in discomfort. “I’m very busy these days,” she dissembled. The last thing on earth she wanted was to be cloistered with Annabelle. Bitter feelings of resentment still lingered, and the petty side of her wanted to keep them stoked.
The silence became awkward, and Annabelle finally spoke. “Caroline and I have very different styles,” she said with an apologetic smile.
