She spun on him, effectively breaking his hold and putting herself out of his reach. Now Evan’s eyes narrowed as he studied her defensive stance. Erin worked to control her breathing. That had been a mistake, a huge overreaction. She needed to be careful if she was going to keep her business to herself.
When he relaxed, so did she. She eyed him from his cashmere sweater to his neat khakis. “No, you’re right, Evan. They never kicked me out. They froze me out. It got so freaking cold I had to go clear to the Caribbean to thaw out.”
“Then why the hell did you come back?” he snapped.
“That’s my business!”
She turned and left, digging her hands into the tight pockets of her hip hugger jeans and hunching her shoulders in an attempt to make her breasts appear smaller. All she wanted was to feel safe, to feel like someone cared. Sam’s frowning face came to mind, but she forced it away. He’d made it plain years ago and again last night that he didn’t want her.
* * * *
Stoner had ushered everyone to his study to wait for Erin and Evan to appear. Catherine and Jenny sat on the couch, keeping an eye on Peter, who played on a blanket on the floor, giggling as he rolled around. Stoner watched them with half a glance while keeping an eye on the doorway at the same time.
Evan appeared first. For a heartbeat, pain stabbed Stoner’s heart, so sure was he that Evan would tell them Erin had bolted again. Then she stepped from behind her older brother, a petite woman who stood only chest high to him. Her hair was short and spiky, like it had been last fall, but Stoner was relieved to see it no longer had electric blue highlights on top, and now her face was almost completely devoid of makeup. In an odd way, it made her large, blue-gray eyes stand out even more against her porcelain pale skin than the dark, heavy eye makeup she’d worn when she’d shown up at Tabby’s party.
For a fraction of a second, he was reminded of a doe in that instant she senses danger, but has yet to break and run. The minute Stoner stood, though, the impression disappeared. Erin’s chin jutted belligerently, and her eyes narrowed.
“How are you this morning?” Stoner asked carefully as he crossed the room to her, uncertain of her reaction. “Did Sam take care of your head?”
“Yes.”
She stiffened when he bent to kiss her, and Stoner straightened awkwardly. Inside he sighed. Why the hell had she come here when she so obviously didn’t want to? He had never understood her, and it seemed he still didn’t. Even a couple of years ago, he would have said that aloud, but circumstances had mellowed him.
“Come in,” he invited instead. “Say hello to your mother and Jenny. You remember Jenny, don’t you?”
Erin nodded and swallowed as her eyes met her mother’s.
“Mama.”
Catherine held her arms open to her daughter, and Erin moved as gracefully as a cat to her mother’s side, briefly embraced her, then looked at Jenny warily.
Jenny smiled at her and laughed. “You have no idea how relieved I am to see someone in this family who does not tower over me.”
Erin grinned, and even though it was tinged with anxiety, it was the most relaxed she had looked since she walked into the room. Stoner took a deep breath. Maybe everything would be all right.
“It can be overpowering.” Erin’s glance slid to the baby, and now she smiled genuinely for the first time. “He’s cute. How old is he?”
“Five months,” Jenny said, “and already has teeth.”
At his mother’s voice, Peter stopped what he was doing and looked at them both with a big smile, showing off two top teeth.
“Would you like to hold him?”
Erin shook her head, as she eyed everyone else awkwardly. “Could—could I just play with him?”
Stoner watched as his daughter and daughter-in-law sat next to Peter and teased him with toys to make him laugh and wave his arms and legs in delight. He 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