She was an actress, and this was her greatest role. She need only keep this in mind, and she resolved to do so as she turned to her sister with a wide smile. “Her name is Violet Jenkins, and she is an absolute angel. Just look at her.”
She lowered the basket to the parlor floor before lifting Violet from her nest of blankets and holding her in the crook of one arm.
Holly came over to admire her, and Edward reached down to touch her hand.
“See, nothing to be afraid of. She can sleep in my room, and I will see to her feeding schedule. Which reminds me once again, she will need to be fed soon. She does not like to be kept waiting.” That was an understatement if ever there was one, since Cate’s ears still rang from the punishment they had received back at Landon’s house.
She thought of him then, wondering how relieved he must be to have his house to himself again. She supposed a young, extremely eligible bachelor such as himself must regard sudden fatherhood as a terrible inconvenience.
Molly’s footfalls echoed down the stairs, sending a new shot of terror through Cate’s heart.
She began explaining before her sister even entered the room. “My friend is ill, and this will only be for a few days. Her name is Violet, and she is two months old and I know all there is to know about taking care of her, so you needn’t—”
She stopped when it was clear Molly wasn’t about to speak. She regarded Cate in silence, hands crossed over her swelling belly. She had ceased wearing her stays, and it was still a bit of shock to see her this way. Cate thought she secretly enjoyed not having to squeeze herself into the unforgiving device every day. Neither of them had ever taken to wearing the thing overnight. It was impossible to sleep comfortably when one could not draw a deep breath.
“I did not ask you to explain, and I have no argument to offer.” Molly’s mild tone was somehow more disturbing than it would have been had she shouted and screamed and stomped her feet.
Cate eyed her, suspicious. “Do you mean that?”
“Yes, I do. It simply isn’t worth the strain. Dr. Perkins tells me I ought to keep myself calm as I can, and I’ve promised Lewis I would do my best. Therefore I can only say welcome to this child and that I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.”
How she managed to deliver a stinging blow without so much as raising her voice was a mystery.
Cate made a mental note of this, of how a menacingly low tone of voice could be far more powerful than one raised in a mighty roar. This would surely help her one day when she was on stage.
In her theater.
This reminder bolstered her, giving her added strength with which she might stand up to her imperious sister. “I’m glad of this. The doctor knows best.”
“Yes, and I should have known you would find a way to challenge me.”
“Now, now.” Holly stepped in between them. “It isn’t so bad is that. I would hate to see anything befall this sweet angel while her mother is ill. Cate’s heart, as always, is in the right place. She only wants to be of help.”
Molly rolled her eyes. “No. Cate’s heart, as always, got in the way of her head. Sometimes I wonder if you think at all. Do you?”
This stung, and there was no hope of hiding the fact.
“One day, you will come to know how you have underestimated me. And you will apologize for having done so. You have never given me the credit I deserve.”
“Perhaps if you did anything to earn that credit, I would give it to you. Anyone who knows me knows I’m a fair person, but you seem determined to push me to the limit at every turn.”
“Well, worry not. Perhaps the time will come sooner than you think that I will no longer be a problem for you. You won’t have to worry about me ever again.” She returned the baby to the basket and carried it, along with the baby’s things, upstairs to her room.
She might have stomped her feet a bit louder than was necessary along the way, but she needed to find some way to express her outrage.
“If you plan to care for a child, perhaps you had best stop behaving like a child yourself!” Molly called up after her.
Cate responded by slamming her bedroom door as hard as she possibly could manage.
Only once the deed was done did she see the folly in it.
Violet was startled from her sleep and began to wail.
Cate closed her eyes, leaning against the door and asking once again what she had gotten herself into.
11
Incredible, really, what a good night’s sleep could do.
Landon awoke that morning feeling like a new man. A quick glance at the pocket watch he’d left on his bedside table—a gift upon his graduation from Harvard—told him he’d slept nearly eleven straight hours.
This was hardly his customary schedule, but he’d needed it a great deal.
He had even refused his supper the night before, choosing instead to soak in a scalding tub instead. He’d silently thanked his father’s architect friend all the while for insisting on installing plumbing indoors, hot and cold water included.
Normally, he would have been dining alone, or preparing to join Bill or another friend somewhere in town. Instead, he’d collapsed into bed at seven o’clock and had slept straight through.
Was this the way of it for all mothers and fathers? Suddenly, sleep was more important than anything else in life. He’d had no time in which to prepare himself, rather than having the customary nine months most fathers were granted in which he might ease himself into the situation.
One single night’s sleep had been enough to turn things around. Now, he was ravenously hungry and eager to start his day.
Until he passed the closed door of the next bedroom over, that was. It was surprising, the way his heart sank just a bit when he remembered there was no one behind that door.
As greatly as she shaken his entire life, he missed her. He had to remind himself that she would be home in a few days, that he might have the chance to enjoy her then. It would be easier to do so while Cate and his parents were there, as well. He would especially enjoy watching his mother interact with her granddaughter.
He supposed that was the way that for most fathers, too.
Mrs. Davis had not yet arrived for the morning, but it was no bother. She needed the rest just as badly as he did. Perhaps more; after all, she was more than twice his age. He brewed coffee and fixed himself a simple breakfast of fried eggs and biscuits left over from the night before, slathered with butter and preserves. A shame he’d not eaten them for supper, for they must have been quite delicious when fresh out of the oven. As it was, they did quite well the morning after.
The items he had purchased at the general store were to be delivered early in the afternoon, and he made a point of leaving a note for Mrs. Davis to explain this in case he were to miss her on his way to the bank. He then hurried through his morning’s grooming and found himself whistling as he shaved.
Life was truly looking up. For the first time in over a week, he had help. Cate would return, they would have time to get to know each other and to arrange the house to her liking before his parents arrived.
He had the utmost faith in her. She was a sharp girl, fast on her feet, and she would certainly adapt to his life nicely. He had nothing to worry about, for she would see this as her greatest acting role. Though he did not know her well, he knew that much.
He had always been an excellent judge of character, after all. One of the many instincts which aided him in business. It was important for a man in his position to quickly and accurately sum up strangers to whom he was about to make a business proposition.
At times, it became clear before he’d even started that he would be wasting his time, that he would not wish to do business with the person in question. Knowing the difference between a good partner and a bad partner was just as important as being able to convince a good partner the benefits of said partnership.
He decided to break out a suit of clothes which he purchased in Chicago but had not yet
had a chance to enjoy. Rather than a traditional sack coat, the tailor had referred to this as a frockcoat—shorter, better fitted, with narrower lapels. The matching waistcoat had no lapels, which he had been assured was the new fashion in Paris and New York.
Landon hardly considered himself fashionable, but he did wish to make a good impression once his parents arrived. His mother and father would wish to see him looking his best, which meant making use of the wardrobe he purchased during his travels. He’d better get accustomed to dressing the part.
It only occurred to him then that Cate might not possess the clothing of a wife of a man in his position. He met his eyes in the looking glass above the basin, some of his good mood now darkening.
No, she was a fine young lady, raised in the East. She would know how to dress, how to groom, how to conduct herself. He wished they had more time to discuss what she ought to bring back from the ranch and wondered if the dressmaker would be able to help should she be in need of anything at the last minute.
Just another opportunity for him to exercise a bit of faith. He would need to call all of his faith into service over the next week.
And then it would be over. He could return to wondering what to do with his life now that he had a child. And Cate could have her theater.
The house was still quiet when he slid his arms into the sleeves of his topcoat, its fur-lined collar a necessity against the bitter cold air. He hoped Cate had bundled Violet up appropriately and wondered if he would ever stop worrying about the child. He supposed not. He supposed that the tiny stranger would grow into a girl, then a young lady.
And he might just wish for the days when he had nothing more to worry about than whether or not she would allow him to sleep through the night.
He was smiling to himself as he entered the bank, nodding and greeting to the clerks he passed along the way to his office. “Good morning, Mr. Witherspoon,” he called out as he passed, not waiting for the man to reply before he entered the solitude of his office.
One of the boys whose task it was to run errands and see to the needs of the bank officers followed behind, accepting his topcoat and hat. “Pardon me, sir, but a telegram was discovered this morning among other messages which arrived yesterday afternoon. It fell to the floor, beneath the desk of one of the clerks. I found this morning and placed it on your desk.”
Landon smiled to himself, interpreting the boy’s explanation for what it was. He expected praise for doing what should have been done the previous afternoon.
“I only hope it was nothing urgent,” he muttered. “In the future, if any such occasion should arise, see to it the message is brought to my home rather than left here. Do you understand?”
The boy’s face reddened until his freckles disappeared. “Of course, sir. I’m sorry.”
He was shaking his head as he opened the envelope, his good mood dissolving by the moment. It seemed there were times when the rest of the world was determined to make his life more difficult.
Never had that seemed more the case that at that moment, as he stared down at the slip of paper which had been sent around dinner time the previous day.
Meetings canceled. Mother anxious to see you. Will arrive tomorrow evening.
No.
It couldn’t be true.
Landon read and reread the short message, certain he must be misunderstanding. It surely did not say his parents would be arriving that very evening. Such a thing was impossible.
He stormed out of his office, clutching the telegram in one shaking hand. “Why was I not given this yesterday?” he called out, expecting no answer but needing to voice his disapproval, nonetheless.
“What’s this all about?” Bill asked, coming from his own office. “Is it bad news?”
“It depends upon what you consider bad news.” He thrust the telegram toward his friend while his mind raced sickeningly from one thought to the next. The house wasn’t ready. Cate was at the ranch. They hadn’t the time to get to know each other better. It would be clear from the start they were strangers.
Bill winced. “Nothing will chill a man’s blood like the prospect of a family visit.” He chuckled.
“I’m glad you find this amusing.” Landon returned to his office, running his hands through his hair until it stood on end.
Bill followed. “What is it, old man? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so undone.”
“I wish I could explain, but it would take far too much time and time is a luxury I do not have at present.” He had to think. He had to plan. If only he knew exactly when they would arrive that evening.
It was barely eight o’clock in the morning. He had time, didn’t he? He could make a success of this still.
Tearing sheet from the blotter on his desk, he scrawled a quick note. You must return at once. Parents are arriving this evening, just received word this morning. Please hurry.
Folding the note, he marched from his office once again. “I need someone to deliver a message for me,” he announced.
One of the errand boys seated closest to the door leapt to his feet. Landon recognized him as one always eager to be of service.
“I would be happy to help, sir,” he assured him.
Landon sized him up. Young, but likely trustworthy. He would want to impress, which meant he would take great pains to deliver the message successfully.
He pulled the boy aside, reaching for the billfold in the inside pocket of his waistcoat. “Do you know how to find the Reed Ranch?” He asked.
“Yes, Sir. It lies due west of town, perhaps one to two hours ride depending on the speed of one’s horse.”
Landon was impressed, in spite of the panic rising in his throat. The lad would go far if he showed this much intelligence and thoroughness in other areas of his life.
“Fine, fine. I need you to take this note to Miss Cate Reed. Do you understand? It is to be read by her and her alone. Not by you, not by one of her sisters or the ranch hands. Do you understand?”
The boy nodded, Adam’s apple bobbing in his thin throat when he swallowed. “Yes. Yes, sir. I understand.”
“That’s fine. Here is a dollar for your trouble, and there will be another waiting for you when you return. You must make haste. Miss Reed must receive this note at the earliest opportunity. Do you understand?”
“Of course. You can count on me, sir.” If the boy had saluted, Landon would not have been the least bit surprised.
He sent him on his way, hoping against hope the boy was as trustworthy as he seemed. There was nothing to do but trust, and then do his best to control what he could.
He went to Witherspoon’s office next, finding the old man smoking one of his customary cigars while reading papers on his desk. By the end of the day, the entire room would be shrouded in a fog of smoke. “Sir, I’m afraid I’ve just been made aware of an urgent situation.”
Witherspoon glanced up, frowning. “Anything I can do, my boy?”
How Landon hated when he regarded him this way, treating him as if he saw himself as a father figure. Landon knew that, bank president or not, the old man saw potential in Landon’s family connections more so than he did in Landon himself.
“You might allow me the rest of the day away from the bank, sir. You know I would never ask, but I only just received a telegram from my father this morning which he sent yesterday afternoon. For some reason, it was delivered here to the bank and not to my home, and I didn’t have a chance to look at it until today. He and my mother are arriving this evening, though he did not give me a firm time. I must see to the arrangement of household, as they will be staying with me during their visit.”
Witherspoon’s eyes lit up, and Landon knew he saw opportunity in this. He would likely seek to ingratiate himself with a senator.
His father would not be impressed, but Witherspoon did not need to know this. So long as he was willing to grant the day off, it would not hurt for him to believe he might curry favor with the great Oliver Jenkins.
“Of course
, my boy! You must see to your parents’ comfort. I take it their arrival is a bit of a surprise.”
Landon pulled a face, nodding. “They were not supposed to arrive for another five days. He said something about canceled meetings.”
Witherspoon laughed merrily, as if this were a tremendous joke and nothing was amiss. Naturally, he was unaware of anything being amiss, and both he and Bill could see the situation from a humorous perspective. Landon supposed he would feel the same, were it Bill in his shoes, with him unknowing of the true nature of the situation.
“Thank you, sir. I can assure you this will not affect—”
“Say nothing of it, Landon. If you need time away from the bank during their visit, I am happy to oblige. After all, you took a great deal of time away from home this last year, and the least I can do to thank you for representing us in such a fine manner is to grant you time to visit with your loving parents.”
Landon decided to leave before the man began kissing his feet. “Thank you, sir. I will be sure to mention to my father how generous you’ve been.”
That would seal things, and Mr. Witherspoon would go to bed happy man that night.
With that problem solved, and the note on its way to the ranch, Landon gathered his things and put out the desk lamp. There was so much to do. Mrs. Davis would be in a tizzy, and he could only hope that Cate might arrive before his parents did.
Otherwise, his scheme would be over before it began.
12
“Hush, dear,” Cate murmured, walking back and forth yet again with Violet against her shoulder. She patted her back gently yet firmly, determined to bring up whatever it was that caused the baby such distress. “You must rid yourself of that nasty bubble, my dear. It will hurt your little belly if you do not.” She went so far as to bounce her gently up and down, hoping to encourage the air to expel itself through her mouth.
A Bargain For A Bride (Westward Hearts Book 8) Page 8
