Page 59 of Gilded Locks

Willa threw her hands into the air and marched off the porch. “Fine. You dunderheads can deal with this yourselves. I’m going to find out what’s keeping your parents.” She marched her way up the cobbled path, leaving Grace and Garrick standing alone on the porch once more.

“Well,” Grace said. “That was dramatic.”

Garrick chuckled. “That’s Willa.” His laughter petered out and an awkward silence fell between them.

Grace rolled her eyes at her own ridiculousness. This was Garrick Clairmont. She wasn’t awkward around him. She was supposed to be annoyed.

“So are you going to tell me what you wanted to talk about, or should I ask dramatic Willa?”

Garrick glanced at her as though evaluating if she’d make good on her threat. Grace crossed her arms to make her point.

He sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. As they dropped to his sides, a change came over him, a confidence. He walked to her, intent but not rushed.

His approach left Grace a bit uncomfortable. He didn’t come closer than was proper, but she felt her space somewhat invaded. At least, the air around her tensed. There was a cockiness in his demeanor that she’d always believed was there, but what she’d seen in his behavior was nothing like this.

“Perhaps I just wanted to talk. About anything.”

Grace frowned. “But why would you…” Her words dropped off. He was gazing at her, deeply, and she noticed rings of color she’d never seen before in his pale caramel eyes. He blinked, and she stirred, swallowing hard. This man wasn’t just looking at her. He was seeing her. “Oh. Oh…” Garrick Clairmont was flirting with her.

She stepped back.

Garrick’s confidence faltered for a moment, and she glimpsed the pain her recoiling had caused.

But what did he expect? He knew who he was. And who she was. He must know the history between their parents, the rejection his father had faced from Grace’s mother. And the distinct difference in politics and morals.

“And the night at Mayor Kavanah’s home…” She was picturing that interaction in a new light. He’d seen a woman he was—she shivered—intrigued by, and followed to talk, or just to see what she was doing where she oughtn’t be.

And the spin when he’d stopped her from looking in his bag. And the comment about finally getting a dance…

Garrick shrugged. “You intrigue me. What were you doing in an abandoned building at night?”

Grace frowned. “Why didn’t you tell your father I was in town property at that time of night?”

“Why would I tell him that?” Garrick’s voice hardened a bit.

Grace shifted. “He’s the sheriff.”

“Yes, well, a night stroll doesn’t sound illegal to me.” Garrick stepped forward, recovering the distance Grace had put between them. She glanced at the gold and shifted to the side to put herself between him and the destructive magic.

He opened his mouth to say something, but just then, Grace’s parents and Willa came into view, pushing a clunky wheelbarrow containing axes along the cobbled path.

Garrick’s expression saddened as he turned away and went to meet his cousin.

Her parents asked a miraculously small number of questions before proceeding with Grace’s plan.

The ice went in the wheelbarrow. Then, with slow, steady movements, Father and Garrick pried the nails from the door hinges and lowered the door, careful not to brush any gold.

All of them took turns swinging the axes at the oak. The gold quivered and then splashed onto the ice. A few drops landed on the sides of the metal of the wheelbarrow, requiring faster work.

Pieces of wood that didn’t have gold on them were thrown to the side, while those contaminated went in the wheelbarrow.

The frond was placed atop their warped collection. No signs of gold were found on the porch where the leaf had lain.

As Garrick helped Grace and her father carefully carry the wheelbarrow down the stairs, his hand brushed Grace’s. She desperately wanted to slide her hand away from his, to end the odd tingling sensation his touch was causing, but she didn’t dare risk dropping the wheelbarrow.

As her parents began pushing the wheelbarrow home, avoiding the cobblestones in favor of a less bumpy surface, Garrick reached out and placed a hand on Grace’s arm.

She froze, her arm burning beneath his palm. Sensing her tension, he released her. She crossed her arms over the place his hand had been, trying to chill the heat.

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