“He didn’t think it was a secret—especially since we are all family now.” Kate threw in that reminder again for her own sake and for his. “I know that when your grandmother was seventeen her parents died and she ended up being taken in by Hector Tyson and his wife. That he bought a major chunk of land from her for a song and got rich himself from selling it off in lots, and then also selling all the building materials for the houses that were built on it because he’s always been the only game in town when it came to lumber and hardware—”
“Something we’re going to change by opening a Home-Max—which he doesn’t like.”
“I know that when Theresa first came to Northbridge, she said it was to get back something that was taken from her,” Kate continued. “And that your family thought she was talking about the land. But when Marti and Noah told Theresa that Marti is pregnant, your grandmother got really upset and claimed that Hector seduced her and that she had his baby—”
“And we believe her, especially since Marti talked to some woman named Emmalina—”
“She was the wife of the minister at the time,” Kate filled him in.
“Right. And this Emmalina said Gram went to talk to the minister, that while she waited for him, she talked to Emmalina about being in love with a married man. And between the things she said and the fact that Gram was all wrapped up in a big coat on a warm day, we believe she was hiding a pregnancy,” Ry said.
“Noah also told me that Theresa says Hector took her baby from her before she even saw it or held it or knew if it was a boy or a girl.”
“We still aren’t sure if that’s a figment of Gram’s imagination or not.”
“But if it’s true, then that baby—which would be as old as our parents by now—could be what Theresa wants back,” Kate concluded.
“So you know plenty.”
“Am I not supposed to?” Kate asked, hoping she hadn’t gotten her brother into trouble.
“No, it’s fine. Anyway, this dream Gram has is that the baby is crying for her. She has problems with depression most of the time but when she has this dream, she really gets bummed out. She ended up crying all afternoon and there was nothing her nurse Mary Pat or I could do to cheer her up.”
“I feel so badly for her,” Kate said. She couldn’t imagine how awful it would be to have a child and then have it taken from her.
“Yeah, it’s lousy,” Ry agreed.
It was definitely easier to talk to him without looking at that handsome face, with his back draped in towels, without touching him while the heat packs did their job, and Kate was feeling more herself.
“We’ve notified this Tyson character that we intend to sue him for restitution over the land,” Ry went on to say. “Our lawyers are putting the finishing touches on that this week, but I think I’m going to have to take the bull by the horns over the baby. Do you know Tyson?”
Kate decided enough time had passed with the heat packs applied to his shoulders and since she felt she could better deal with massaging him, she removed the towels and packs. But before she answered Ry’s question, she warmed more oil between her hands and said, “I’m going to start on your spine to get everything in line before I work on your shoulder.”
“Sure, whatever,” he said.
Talking to him about his grandmother had helped dispel some of her reaction to him because this time when she began the massage, she had something to think about other than how smooth and sleek his skin was.
“Yes, I know Hector Tyson,” she said then, finally responding to what he’d asked. “Everyone does. He’s a cranky old man like my grandfather. In fact, I’ll be seeing Hector as soon as we’re done here. I’m sure you know about that holding barn he bought out from under you to try to keep Home-Max from coming in?”
“Yeah, I know about that.”
“Well, he’s closed on the deal and he wants the title. I agreed to deliver it to him tonight.”
“You’re a masseuse who moonlights as a messenger?”
“I’m a masseuse who’s also the city clerk.”
“Seriously?”
“The city clerk job in Northbridge is only a part-time position—we just aren’t big enough to need one full-time. And since being a masseuse in a small town is also not a huge moneymaker, I do both jobs.”
“Ah, that’s why you were only here this afternoon, not this morning,” he said, although his ah was tinged with some pleasure as she worked her way from his waist upward and began to address those wide shoulders of his, paying particular attention to the injured one.
“So why don’t I go with you when we’re finished here and you can introduce me?” he suggested then.
“I can think of about 100 reasons why not,” she answered before thinking better of it.
“Why is that?”
Of course he would ask, and now that her runaway mouth had gotten her into it, what was she going to say? That she was worried about her own visceral responses to him? That she didn’t want to risk what might happen if she was with him any more than necessary? That the rock-solid muscles of his back were not the kind of “rock solid” she was looking for and so she considered him a waste of her valuable time?
“I just don’t think that would be a good idea,” she hedged. “I’m going to Hector’s house as a civil servant. I can’t bring a date.”
“Who said anything about a date?”
She wished she hadn’t.
“No one,” she backpedaled. “I’m just saying that that’s what it would look like to Hector. And then you’d attack him and—”
“I’m not going to attack an old man. I just want to talk to him. Wouldn’t it be better to start off with an introduction from someone he knows? Someone who can say I’m family now?”
She didn’t appreciate having that table turned on her. But she did know that her brother would want her to help the Graysons in any way she could, especially in getting to the bottom of things for Theresa.
Plus now that she’d shot off her mouth about going to Hector Tyson’s house tonight and then made the other slips of the tongue that had compounded things, if she didn’t concede, this was apt to become a much bigger deal than she wanted it to. And then that could get back to her brother and it all just seemed like it could snowball if she didn’t bite the bullet and let Ry Grayson have his way….
“Ouch!”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, not realizing that in the process of working on his shoulder her own frustration might have made her rougher than she should have been.
She was more careful as she stretched his arm toward his back.
“So what do you say?” he asked. “Will you do the honors with old man Tyson? Otherwise I’m just gonna follow you from here so I know how to get to his place and we’ll end up there at the same time anyway.”
“You weren’t planning to go tonight until you heard I was going,” she accused.
“But now that I know you are, I might as well trail you—it’s easier than finding him on my own. So what’ll it be? Together with an introduction—the way a family member would do with another family member? Or some awkward, coincidental, synchronized arrival on the old man’s doorstep that’ll be harder for you to explain?”