Lips That Touch Mine by Wendy Lindstrom Page B

and Radford and I work when we can."
    He made a right turn at the intersection of
Day and Lambert Streets where Claire had recently marched with her
temperance friends. As Lambert Street angled hard left, Boyd veered
right and entered Forest Hill Cemetery.
    "Is there a reason you're taking me to a
cemetery?" she asked, wondering what on earth he could be
planning.
    "Yes." He winked at her, but didn't say
another word.
    Huge, snow-covered maple trees and towering
pines cast shadows across the narrow lanes that wound through the
cemetery. Everything was buried in several inches of snow, but he
seemed to know where he was going. The horses' shod feet kicked up
a dusting of snow with each step, the bells on their harness
tinkling with each shift of their majestic bodies, creating a
light, rhythmic music that captivated Claire.
    Boyd guided the sleigh on a winding path
through the towering trees and leafless, snow-covered bushes, past
squat, somber tombstones and tall monuments. Suddenly he brought
the sleigh to a stop, his expression serene and oddly respectful.
"I thought you might like to visit your grandparents today." He
nodded toward two matching headstones on Claire's side of the
sleigh.
    Stunned, she glanced to her left and saw two
gray stones side-by-side with her grandparents' names engraved on
them. She'd never been here, but Boyd obviously had. He must have
come earlier to clear the snow off the stones.
    In the few weeks she'd been in Fredonia,
she'd been so preoccupied with opening and managing her
boardinghouse and the temperance marches that she hadn't yet
visited her grandparents' graves. Her grandmother hadn't liked
coming to the cemetery, and had never brought Claire here to visit
her grandfather's grave. She'd wanted to remember her husband as a
living man, not as a cold stone in a cemetery.
    Claire had felt the same. Still, she should
have visited the cemetery out of respect for her grandparents.
Despite the demands of her new responsibilities, she knew she could
have squeezed in a visit. Truth was, she hadn't been able to face
the loss of her grandmother, or the reminder of burying Jack.
    "I thought we could hang these on their
stones," Boyd said. He lifted two fir wreathes out of a satchel at
his feet and handed them to her. Tiny pinecones and elaborate gold
bows decorated each wreath.
    His thoughtfulness and generosity touched
her.
    "How did you know they were here?" she asked,
keeping her eyes downcast so he couldn't see the moisture that was
blurring her vision.
    "I was a pallbearer for Marie."
    She glanced up, surprised by his
confession.
    "Marie had lots of friends, you know."
    She knew. The summer she'd spent with her
grandmother had been filled with daily visitors. Still, it
surprised her that her grandmother would have consorted with a
saloon owner.
    "I know what you're thinking." He smiled, and
she felt a guilty flush burn her face. "We were good friends. I
cared about your grandmother."
    "Do you have any idea what happened...how she
died?" The letter from her grandmother's lawyer hadn't explained
the circumstances. He had just sent the deed with a note saying
Claire now owned the house.
    "She was beating me soundly in a game of
poker when she slumped over the table."
    "You were with her?"
    "Yes." He caught Claire's hand and stopped
her nervous fumbling with the wreath. "She didn't suffer. Whatever
took her was fast and merciful."
    "I didn't know she played poker." The instant
the words left Claire's mouth she cringed. What a stupid thing to
say. She could have expressed her heartbreak over her grandmother's
death, or thanked Boyd for bringing her here, or...or any number of
thoughts circling her mind, but no, she'd blurted out the most
mundane and inappropriate comment of all.
    "Marie loved playing cards. She was an ace
player."
    So was Claire, but she would never reveal the
dirty little secret that had enabled her and Jack to eat.
    "Pat and I played cards with your grandmother
a couple evenings a