had never seen such a soft expression on Erin’s face. The baby calmed her down in some way, so that she didn’t prowl like a nervous cat, something she had done for what felt like forever.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Catherine asked since everyone else had either coffee or tea. Erin’s eyes darted to the brandy decanter and away.
“No.” Her voice was tight. Suddenly, she was on her feet again. She moved restlessly around the room. “I—I’m sorry about last night, D—daddy. I swerved to avoid hitting a deer. I told Sam I’ll work off what I owe him for the fence. He mentioned he needed help on the farm, so I’m working there.”
“You’re working as a farm hand?” Catherine asked softly. She tried to keep her tone noncommittal, but the implication slipped through that a Richardson did not do that. Stoner held his breath. Erin stopped in the middle of the room, and Stoner could almost see the tension vibrate through her. God! She was as taut as a bowstring. She smiled jerkily.
“I’ll have to be up and about early in the mornings. If—if that’s not convenient, I—I’m sure I can find a place to stay.”
“For God’s sake, Erin,” Stoner finally exploded. “You’re family, not some damn guest.”
Her gaze was cool as it rested on him. “Am I?” The bitterness in those two words was there for everyone to hear. It slammed into Stoner with all the force of a slap. Did she really feel that way?
Catherine rose and approached her daughter, but all of them could see the way Erin stiffened at the contact. “Of course you’re family, honey. And you’re welcome to stay in the guesthouse for as long as you wish.”
Silence stretched. Stoner pressed his lips together as Erin’s expression subtly altered. It was as if she withdrew from them, though she hadn’t moved at all. The shaft of pain that speared through him made him take a step back. He had never been able to reach her, and he didn’t understand why.
Erin blinked a couple of times as though she was at a loss for words. Maybe putting her in the guesthouse had been a mistake. Her expression gave away nothing as she finally took a deep breath and looked around the room.
The instant she spotted Tabby’s new portrait of him, she moved toward it. This time Stoner saw the flash of emotion in her eyes—amazement followed quickly by jealousy. He wondered at that. Certainly, the painting portrayed him in a way few people had seen him. Even Stoner had difficulty relating the image of the pleasantly relaxed man intent on the table on which he was working, his hands setting minute inlay into its surface, with the cold man he’d often felt himself to be.
“This must be the painting Tabby did.” She pasted a smile on her face. “She’s very talented.”
Stoner stood behind her but didn’t touch her. He wanted to. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, but the keep-off signals his daughter was throwing out were almost tangible.
“She and Joe will join us for dinner,” he murmured. “We’d like you to be there too, Erin.”
She continued to stare at the painting for the longest time, never turning around as she asked, “What time?”
“Six.”
She nodded, edging away from him, as if she didn’t know how to be around them or what they expected. Stoner stifled a sigh. Because she had been gone for so long, they were all but strangers to her. Before he could think of something to say to ease her mind, she spoke.
“If—if you don’t mind, I’ll go rest. I’m tired.”
“I’ll walk you over there.” He started to take her elbow, but she edged farther away, so Stoner dropped his hand.
“No. No, Daddy… That’s okay.” Erin fled.
Stoner looked at Jenny after Erin left. “Well?” he inquired softly, hands jammed in his pockets to prevent anyone from seeing how tense he was. “What do you think?”
Jenny shook her head. “She doesn’t appear to be on anything right now, Stoner. Of course, knowing for certain