Olivia shook off her disappointment and rose out of bed, stuck her feet in her slippers and hunted for her robe. Tying the sash, she quickly poured cold water from the pitcher into the wash basin. Dipping both hands into the chilly water, she splashed her face. It was exhilarating.
She didn’t bother to tame her riotous curls. After all, most mornings it was just her and the children for breakfast. Her elusive husband kept such late hours, he didn’t come downstairs until mid-morning. Or, if he did, he left the house as soon as possible. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought he was avoiding her.
But why would he do that? She had gone out of her way to make his comings and goings easy for him. After all, they weren’t a real married couple. Just—business partners. And that was just fine with her.
She told herself she didn’t care at all what the ogre did or with whom he did it, but the sharp point of jealousy nicked at her heart, putting a damper on her morning.
Olivia pushed her troublesome thoughts aside and rushed out into the hall to see what was so amusing to the children. There she witnessed all four children rolling a wooden ball down the long hall to the other end where rows and rows of toy soldiers were lined up just waiting to revolt.
Charlie saw her and ran up to her. “Come join us, Ollie. Here, you can have a turn at throwing the ball.”
“We’re having such fun,” shouted little three-year-old Tara with glee. She jumped up and down on her bare feet with excitement.
Olivia took the offered ball. “Oh, I don’t know children. I’m not good at sporting things like this.”
Evan stood beside her, his little face sincere as he took her hand holding the ball into his. “It’s easy, Ollie. Here, I’ll help you.”
She smiled down at the sweet little boy. “Well, if you think I can do this, I will certainly try. But only if you promise to help me, Evan.”
Evan gently cupped her hand in his smaller one and stood behind her. “I shall do my best, Ollie. Now, close one eye and aim right at the lead soldier in front. See him?”
“Yes, I see him. Now what do I do?” Olivia kept one eye closed as Evan instructed and let him swing her arm.
“When I tell you, you let go of the ball. And not a second later, Ollie. It must be let go precisely when I say.”
The seriousness of the little boy’s expression was hard not to chuckle at, but she held her lips firmly in place.
“I will let it go the second you say so, Evan. The very second,” she repeated with all the seriousness she could muster.
“Very well then. I shall swing your arm to give you momentum. Ready. Set. Here you go.” Evan’s excitement was contagious. The other children crowded around, jumping with anticipation of her throw, shouting encouragement until the excitement hit a crescendo of jumping feet, shouting voices and children’s squeals.
Charlie counted them down. “One. Two. Threeeeeeee.”
Evan swung her arm hard and yelled for her to release the ball. She did so immediately. All five of them watched the ball sail high into the air toward the battalion of toy soldiers, but halfway to its target something went very wrong.
“What the hell is all the ruckus going on out here. It isn’t even morning yet, how’s a person to get any sleep—”
And then the tiny little wooden ball found its target. Not the intended target of the tiny wooden soldiers bracing for the impact—but a target all the same.
The sound of wood hitting bone ricocheted off the walls as the ball found the unprotected right eye socket of a very shocked uncle who stood bare-chested in the middle of the hallway, his fist clutching at his bedcovers slung low around his hips.
Olivia froze, unable to speak or move until the roar of the injured man echoed throughout the house. “What the hell is going on here?”
His roar catapulted Olivia into action. She ushered the children down the hall toward their bedrooms. “Children, please go to your rooms and stay there until I come get you. I’ll see to your uncle.”
The wide-eyed children wasted no time in complying with her request. Twin doors slammed shut and then there was silence. She watched the man clutching his bedcovers with one fist and covering his injured eye with the other while glaring at her with his unaffected one.
“Is this your idea of supervising the children? Because if it is, I’ll have you know—”
“Oh, stop your whining and let me see about that eye. It can’t be all that bad. After all, it was only a child’s toy thrown by a mere woman. I’m sure you have suffered worse injuries in a bar fight, Mr. Garrison.”
She was doing her best to out bluster the injured man in front of her, hoping to subdue his outrage. Without waiting for his response, she pulled him inside his bedroom and pushed him to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Now, take your hand away and let me get a look at the damage.” She pushed his hand away from his eye and tried not to gasp when she saw his injured eyelid swelling shut and the surrounding area was turning vivid shades of blue and purple.
She knew he was watching her face and she worked to keep her expression neutral. “See, it isn’t so bad. Let me just put some cool water on it and it will be right as rain in no time.”
There wasn’t much water in the pitcher but she used what was there and poured it into the basin. Then she picked up a washing rag and dipped it in the basin, soaking up some of the water.
Olivia turned toward her patient and stopped cold. The gut-punching sight of her nearly naked groom sitting on the edge of his bed, his well-muscled bare chest in full view, nearly made her swoon—and she wasn’t the swooning kind. Her breath caught in her chest and she could feel her erratic heartbeat in her pounding pulse.
She inhaled a deep breath and pasted on a condescending smile and a disinterested expression—all part of her charade to appear unaffected by this man’s obvious charms.
“Now, let’s see about that tiny little injury of yours, shall we? You are making such a big fuss over nothing.”
She leaned in and reached out with the wet cloth to dab his swelling eye, but he caught her wrist in mid-air and stopped her hand, his good eye pinned her with a look that made her weak at the knees. She tried to look away, but she couldn’t. The pull of her attraction to him was too hard to resist.
His eye finally released her and dropped to the open neckline of her nightgown. She watched his nostrils flare and her body responded in kind.
Chance still held his bed covers with one hand and he pulled her against his bare chest with his free arm to capture her waist. She didn’t fight him. She couldn’t. Not that she wasn’t strong enough. She simply didn’t want to.
And then, he covered her lips with his.
But, unlike her reaction to his uninvited kiss the day of their wedding, this time she kissed him back.
Chapter 11
Chance thought perhaps he was still dreaming about his little dark haired wife, but this time, his elusive angel was real, and she was no longer running from him.
He groaned at the feel of her body in his arms and deepened his kiss. He wanted more.
He shifted on the bed taking her with him, pinning her beneath him.
“Mr. Garrison—Chance. I don’t think we should be doing this—not with the children down the hall. Please, let me up.”
Chance heard his wife’s plea and he reluctantly pulled his lips from hers. He could no longer see out of his injured eye so he trained his good one on the woman he had done his best to avoid for the past three weeks. Now, she was lying beneath him and looking up at him with unabashed passion shining in her green eyes. He wasn’t ready to let her go, but he could ill afford for her to stay knowing what could happen between them.
“Would you mind telling me what you are doing cavorting in the hall with the children at this ungodly hour, if you don’t mind me asking?”
She squirmed beneath him and it was almost his undoing, but then she lay still, giving him a chance to regain control of his desire for her.
“
If you will let me up, I will explain.”
He didn’t want to let her up. He wanted to—
“Chance. I must insist you let me up this instance.” He heard her iron will return and he knew better than to push her too far. She was not opposed to using violence against him to make him come around to her way of thinking, although he hadn’t given her any reason to do so since that kiss on their wedding day.
He rolled over on to the bed and let her sit up. He was surprised to see she didn’t run from the room in righteous indignation. The school teacher was no shrinking violet, that much was plain to see.
She straightened her nightgown and retied the loose sash around her waist. “Now, to answer your question, I was playing with the children. It seems they are up early this morning and the clever little things invented their own amusement. I decided to join them in their made-up game because it seemed to make them happy.”
He studied her face as they sat side by side on the bed, listening to the sound of the children down the hall.
“You know, they are probably wondering if you’re coming to discipline them. I could see it in their faces when they ran to their rooms.”
Chance studied the woman with his one good eye. “What could you see in their faces?”
“Fear,” she stated simply.
Offended, Chase stood and rounded on her, careful to keep hold of the bedsheets around his waist. “My brother’s children are not afraid of me. I have never given those children any reason to be afraid of me. Not one. Ever. How dare you insinuate that I would—”
She stood and placed her hand on his arm. “I’m not accusing you, Chance. I’m simply explaining to you how these children might see you under certain circumstances.”
Chance’s right eye was completely swollen shut now. He reached up to touch it with his fingers. “Ow.”
“Oh, you are the biggest child. Most men are, I’ve found. Sit and let me help you.” He wasn’t sure he could restrain himself from kissing her again.
“No, thank you. I can take care of myself.” He reached out for the cloth and she gave it to him. He wondered just how many men Miss Palmer was referring too. There it was again. That old green monster of jealousy was rearing its ugly head. It was ridiculous. And yet, he had tried so hard to avoid her these last few weeks because he was afraid if he spent too much time with her—
He jabbed the cloth against his eye to distract him from his train of thought. A hiss escaped his lips when the cold rag met his scorching eye socket, but he clamped his jaws shut to keep from uttering another sound. He didn’t want her to call him a sissy again.
Chance moved away from her and sat in the chair next to the window instead of returning to his seat on the bed. He settled in and pulled his bed sheet tight, tucking it all around his legs, pulling it higher on his chest.
“Now, explain to me how I’m scaring these children.”
“Very well.” She took her seat on the edge of the bed and pulled her robe around her, her hair hanging off her shoulders in rows and rows of curls. “It’s simple when you think about it. You are a very big man and sometimes you speak in a loud, booming voice. And you often speak in a very bossy, stern voice telling the children to do this or do that.”
He took offense to her calling him bossy and he felt he needed to explain. “I’m not used to chaos, if you must know. A lot of noise and activity, well, it unsettles me. Perhaps my reaction to it might make me appear harsher than I intend.”
He had never admitted that to anyone. His brother knew. His mother and father had known because of the many times they were called into the head master’s office about his inability to sit still in the classroom. He tried to be still. He tried to listen. He just couldn’t manage it. He didn’t mean to be disruptive, he just—was.
Olivia cocked her head sideways as if seeing him for the first time, but she didn’t say anything. Chance felt as if he should say something to fill the awkward silence.
“And how would you suggest I let the children know what I expect of them unless I tell them? Besides, they must know I would never lay a hand on them. I mean, I would never even consider striking them—”
“It isn’t that, Chance. They know you wouldn’t hit them, but do they know how much you love them? Have you shown them you are interested in what they think? How they feel?”
He sat back in his chair and studied this woman sitting in her nightgown on his bed. She had called him by his first name and he didn’t even think her aware of the fact. And she was worried about him upsetting the children. She was genuinely concerned about their happiness and well-being and he saw no signs of guile. His reluctance to trust her was fading away with each kind gesture he witnessed from her. His weakening resolve was proving a great hinderance to his plan to drive her away. He shook his head in denial.
“No, perhaps not. I mean I haven’t had much time with them since I arrived to learn of Chris’s marriage contract, and then there was you—” He stopped short. No sense in resurrecting the war between the two of them when they were finally able to speak to each other in civil tones.
“May I say that perhaps if you chose to sleep at night instead of running the streets of Creede and rise in the morning like the rest of us, you would have more time to spend with the children.” She admonished.
He couldn’t argue with her assessment. He knew she was right, but he wasn’t ready to concede that his ill-conceived plan to embarrass her in the community had failed miserably. It seems the woman couldn’t care less where he spent his time or who he spent it with. It was time for a new tactic.
“Perhaps you are right. Would it bother you if I spent more time around the house?”
He saw the surprise on her face and it took her a moment to answer his question. When she did, her words sounded breathy. “I think the children would love to see their uncle more.”
“And what about you, Olivia? Would it be such a preposterous notion that you and I—might be friends?” he wondered aloud. He saw her shocked expression and when she didn’t answer, her nonverbal acknowledgment hurt somehow. He supposed it was his wounded ego that suffered because this pretty young miss wasn’t the least bit interested in him. He wasn’t used to that sort of reaction from women. It stung.
He refused to dig deeper in search of an answer for his disappointment.
“It seems you and Charlie are much alike, I’ve noticed.” Her comment jarred him from his thoughts.
“Charlie. And me? Alike? How? I don’t see it myself. He’s so—spontaneous. And I’m anything but impulsive. I’m singularly focused and have often been described as rigid, in fact.”
She smiled at him and rolled her eyes. His heart thumped hard in his chest at her light-hearted teasing. He shook away the feeling.
“Yes, I witnessed that unyielding focus of yours on the train, remember?”
Chance grinned back. “I suppose it is all a matter of perspective. I remember a persistent young woman who wouldn’t take no for an answer when her seat on the train was in question, if that’s what you were referring to.” He smirked.
“Touche’. I will agree I do possess a single-mindedness on occasion. How about we make a deal?” Her eyes met his. A jolt of desire hit him beneath his bedcovers. He pulled them closer to ensure that all important barrier remained intact.
“Chance? Are you listening?“
His eyes glanced down to make certain he wasn’t about to embarrass himself. Or his little school teacher wife. Relieved his attraction to her was hidden among the many folds of his gathered bedsheets, he nodded. “Yes, I’m listening.”
“Good, then how about we call a truce to our war of wills for the time being, shall we? It is possible, if we work together, we can both achieve our goals. What do you say?”
“And exactly what are your goals, Olivia? What do you want?” He was all ears.
She bent her head in thought. Was she trying to come up with a plausible lie? His mind wanted to paint her as a con artist, but his heart no long
er seemed invested in the notion.
“I want to see a modern school built for the children of Creede. And, I want to teach those children with the most advanced studies possible. But mostly, I want Christopher’s children to be happy and carefree once more.”
Chance let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “And that’s it. Nothing more?” he prompted.
She stood to go and met his gaze head on. “I would like for us to be friends. Do you think we can manage that?”
He didn’t answer right away. He couldn’t get the words out of his mouth because it wasn’t friendship he desired from the prim and proper little school teacher from back east.
She gave him a sad smile and left his room. He realized too late she had misunderstood his hesitation for an outright refusal. Chance stared at his open bedroom door where she had disappeared, the vision of her long, dark curls swishing across her slim derriere seared into his brain. After a few minutes deep in thought, he pulled his sheets around his waist and padded on bare feet to close the door for privacy. It was time to put his new plan into motion.
“I’d like to be friends with you, my dear Olivia, and so, so much more.”
Chapter 12
Olivia spent the day cleaning the kitchen after her husband had made his one and only appearance for breakfast since they had been married. It was the first time he had eaten with her and the children. It was a bit unnerving to have him sitting at the same breakfast table as she and the children. It felt intimate somehow and that made her nervous because she knew she was vulnerable to the man’s charming ways.
Perhaps he had thought about her offer of friendship. Could her stubborn husband be coming around? She wasn’t ready to trust him yet, although he seemed less and less inclined to argue with her about who was controlling what.
She was both relieved and disappointed when he announced he had business in town and left the house. His nearness made her stomach flutter with anticipation, and yet she reminded herself he had been absent every night until the wee hours of the morning for the past three weeks since their wedding. She had agreed to release him from his vow of fidelity and he had taken it to heart.
Olivia's Obligation (The Alphabet Mail-Order Brides Book 15) Page 10
