All the Rules of Heaven (All That Heaven Will Allow #1) - Amy Lane Page 0,64

kitty, kitty.”

Nothing.

Not a damned thing.

Angel sat cross-legged on the floor, staring at what he was certain were the pages of the letter he hoped had been written by Sophie’s brother, and cursed his luck that Tucker was not yet home.

HE WAS not sure when Squishbeans wandered in and sat on his lap—it could have been ten minutes later, or it could have been hours later. The shades over the window overlooking the garden were so thick, Angel was pretty sure the house could have gone flying into the stratosphere to have its own adventures and the inhabitants would notice nothing more than an irregular shifting underfoot.

One minute he was hating everything; the next his entire being had blissed out and he was stroking that somnolent furball with moody precision. When Squishbeans reached out with her little claws and began to knead his inner thigh (ouch!), Angel stopped petting and went ahead with his plan.

He had to lean over a lot so as not to disturb the kitten, and he had to wheedle and tease and gently extricate the trapped stationery, but eventually it was in his grasp—two pages, written in a brief, masculine hand:

Sophie—

I am sorry to hear of your troubles with your husband. Pa should never have let him grace the front door. I hold no grudges against you for divorcing him—I’d divorce him from his senses with my fist had I had a moment alone with the man, or with his father.

You are welcome to come stay with me and my wife in Auburn. We have a small cottage out back for you and your maid. If you can help Henrietta with her laundering for extra money, we would be much obliged, but your stay is not contingent upon your service.

I am just happy to hear from family, Sophie. I miss Ma and Pa every day. It’s rougher out here, and railroad men are often wild and uncouth. I do not mind so much, but Henrietta misses manners and civility. I think a sister would do much to ease that longing.

I shall leave to fetch you two weeks after sending this. I know not why you chose such an inaccessible place as your refuge—the journey there and back shall not be pleasant. I hope there is room at your hostel to give me a few nights’ rest.

I look forward to seeing you, Sophie—

James Beaufort

Angel read the letter once, then again and again, leaning his chin on one fist while stroking Squishbeans with his other hand.

“Did you see this?” he asked after a few moments wherein the activity in his whirling mind could probably be heard in the silent house. “They had rescue coming. Do you understand what this means?”

He smiled down at the kitten happily, then gathered up the pages. Very carefully, he stood up with the kitten in one hand and the letter clutched in the other. He took them both to the desk and set the old paper down on the side of the desk with the “happy” objects.

“The green bottle, you think?” he asked, and the kitten hung out, happy in his hand and apparently unmoved by how strange it should be that Angel could pick her up.

Angel smoothed the pages very deliberately and put the green bottle—the object still humming with passion and happiness—on the top.

It wasn’t much. Tucker still had to strip wallpaper and sand floors. There was still the glass paperweight and all of the terror it held for the both of them.

But just this once, Angel had been able to provide some safety, a happy moment, for the man who had become the center of Angel’s universe. Angel wasn’t sure how to put his work on the house back in that place, but until it happened, he would work for Tucker.

Spilled Like Wine

“YOU LET me do all the talking!” Josh said cheerfully as they got out of the truck.

“I’m a fan of listening,” Tucker said, which was true, but only a teeny tiny corner of the truth.

He and Josh had enjoyed the trip to Sac—they’d played music loud and shot the shit all the way down, keeping Andy in the rearview so they didn’t lose him as they dodged through traffic.

Josh was partial to classic rock, but Tucker could live with that. A lot of Josh’s stories dealt with stupid people who couldn’t fix their way out of a paperclip trying to deal with complicated engines, but Tucker could deal with that too. Honest folks making an honest living were his