“Rayne!”
A pain shot through his hip.
“Rayne!”
He closed his eyes as she peeled back layers of the weave. She coughed as she tossed aside a large part of the tapestry. Then, her sharp slap stung against his cheek.
He turned his head and winced. “Save your right hook for Jack, would you?”
“I thought you were dead!”
“Well…” He sat up slowly, then draped his arm across his knee. “In that case, your blow would have brought me back immediately.”
Good God, what a sense of freedom.
“Are youlaughing?” She squinted. “Why would you be laughing? You hit your head, didn’t you?”
“I’m quite all right.” The tapestry itself had taken the brunt of the fall. He tossed a Centurion to the side and lifted his gaze the large, vacant space.Potential.“You were absolutely right. This is much better.”
“Next time, let’s discuss the matter before you proceed?” She pursed her lips.
He snorted. “And just how did you expect to help?”
“I would have held the chair, of course.”
“The chair.” She would have held the chair. Another laugh bubbled up. “Stop!” He shielded his chest from another blow. “I’mnotbeing facetious. I’magreeing!” He caught her arms. “Would you stop squirming for a second and listen?”
She stilled.
How could he explain the change her simple suggestion had wrought?
Everything in this part of the house had been here for as long as he could remember. In his mind, the tapestry—like everything else about the Grange—had been fixed, immoveable. A weight he’d been sentenced to carry.
She’d seen other possibilities, and, suddenly, he was light, and all around him potential was snapping like a roaring pinewood fire.
Julia knew plenty about the running of an estate. He could immerse himself in the mining. Between the two of them, Mr. and Mrs. Wheeling, and a new steward, they could change the very spirit of the Grange.
And he could start by finishing the improvements his grandfather had started, creating substance beneath the facade.
“I was laughing because I agree. We can change this. Wewillbuild a home.”
She searched his face. “No regrets?”
“None.”
Not yet.
He released her arms. “I can’t tell you how much Ihatedthat tapestry.”Or how much I love you.He swallowed the words that had risen spontaneously to his lips.
He couldn’t tell her now. Not before he’d proven to her he could change.
“Are yousureyou didn’t hit your head?” she asked.
“I may have a small bump.” He touched his bottom lip. “Here.”
She eyed him with a long, probing gaze.
He tapped his lip again.
