They watched him mount and ride away before Nick broke the leaden silence. “This wasn’t the way it was supposed to turn out.”
Sarah turned tear-filled eyes to him.
“I appreciate your willingness to marry me, but I’m not fool enough to think I’m the one you really love.”
She fiercely shook her head. “It’s not like that at all. I-I care deeply for you, Nick. If you want me, I-I’d be proud to be your wife.”
It took everything in Sarah to manage a smile. Then, without warning, she burst into tears. Within a matter of seconds, she regained control and hastily swiped the moisture from her cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” she choked out. “I-I’m so s-sorry!”
The tears welled anew. She turned and ran into the house.
“Come here, girl. I want a word with you.”
At the harsh command, Sarah’s head jerked up. Edmund Wainwright stood in the library doorway, a frigid look on his face.
He motioned for her to come in. “Now, girl.”
She halted, her hand clasping the oak banister. He must have been waiting there in the library for her to finish in the kitchen and head up to bed, she realized wearily. But why now, on top of everything else that had happened today?
Her chin lifted a defiant notch. “My name’s Sarah, or Miss Caldwell, whichever you choose, but it’s not ‘girl,’” she said, struggling to control the surge of anger at his rudeness. He was, after all, Nick’s father. For his sake, she’d make every effort to keep the peace. But she’d not, not for anyone, allow herself to be treated in a demeaning manner.
Anger darkened Edmund’s features. For a moment, Sarah thought he’d fly into one of his rages. Then he relaxed.
“Sarah it is then. Now, would you please come into the library? I need to speak with you.”
She nodded and followed him into the room. He indicated the sofa.
“Please, sit down.”
Edmund settled himself in the wing chair. “We need to talk about you and Nicholas.”
Sarah arched a brow. “Oh?”
“You may have pulled the wool over everyone else’s eyes with that air of sweet innocence, but you’ve met your match in me, my dear. Your father put you up to this, didn’t he? What better way to win the ranch from the inside than by sending his beautiful daughter to seduce one of my sons? And, of course, Nicholas was your most likely target—crippled, emotionally vulnerable, and convinced no woman would ever have him.”
He rose to tower over her, a sudden chill hanging on the edge of his words. “Well, I won’t have it, do you hear me? You’re a heartless little tramp to play my Nicholas like this! And don’t think I haven’t guessed what you’ll do after you’re married, either. I know your kind. Sooner or later we’ll find you sneaking out to the barn for a passionate liaison with one or another of the hands.”
So, it’s finally all out in the open, Sarah thought. Edmund’s played his cards. Now I know exactly what I face and can deal with it. A strange, detached calmness settled over her.
“You’ve gotten it all figured out, haven’t you?” she asked. “Now, what do you plan to do about it? Obviously this little get-together wasn’t for the purpose of welcoming me into the family.”
“Darn right,” he growled. “You’ll never get this ranch. What will it take to buy you off, get you to break your engagement to Nicholas?”
“More money than you have, for it’ll never buy the kind of home Danny and I have right here.” Her voice grew taut with emotion, with the heat of battle, for, in a sense she was fighting for her and her little brother’s future. “As hard as it may be for you to believe, I don’t want your ranch. If anything should ever happen to Nick, it’s Cord’s birthright. All I want is a good home for my brother to grow up in. He’ll have that here, with Emma, Nick, and me, with the good food and healthy surroundings. Is that too high a price for you?”
“So, all you want is a home for your brother?” Edmund gave a disgusted snort. “And what about Nicholas? I don’t know how ‘experienced’ you are, but surely you realize that he can never be a husband to you in any physical sense, can never give you children. You’re only eighteen. I can’t believe you’d willingly tie yourself down to half a man for the rest of your life. Sooner or later you’d be unfaithful—it can’t be helped.”
An aching sadness washed over Sarah. Why do you think I’m sending Cord away? How could I hurt Nick by loving his brother more than I love him? She bit her lip to distract her from the spiraling pain.
Sarah rose and walked over to gaze out the darkened window. “You know, I don’t expect you to have much confidence in me, but you underestimate your son. In many ways, he’s more a man than most men.”
A sudden insight struck her. She turned, a wondering look in her eyes.
“You really don’t know either of your sons, do you? You discount Nick’s strength and depth of character, and Cord, well, you’ve never given him a chance.”
“My family and our relationships aren’t part of this discussion. And it’s also none of your business!”
A sad smile curved Sarah’s lips. “But I’m soon to be part of the family, aren’t I, Mr. Wainwright? So, it is my business. And one thing you’d better learn quickly about me is that I speak my mind.”
“Then let’s get it out in the open between us, so we won’t have to dredge up this disagreeable subject again.” His tall frame grew rigid. “Why do you care about my relationship with Cord? He’s nothing to you . . .” Edmund’s voice faded, and a considering look sparked in his eyes. “Or is he?”
For an instant, Sarah faltered. Were her feelings for Cord that transparent? It was a weapon she dared not lay at Edmund Wainwright’s feet.
She shook her head in denial. “Cord’s a good man, has been kind to Danny and me, especially in light of what I did to him. Nick told me how you treated him as a boy, still do for that matter. Anything that hurts Nick hurts me. Why shouldn’t I care?”
“You don’t understand.”
“Understand?” Sarah gave a disbelieving laugh. “What’s there to understand about a father’s deliberate cruelty to his son? What has Cord ever done to you but try to win your love? To grow up to be a fine, intelligent man so he could return and help save a ranch you’ve all but driven him from?”
“Sorry to say, this is one time I have to agree with my father,” a deep voice intruded into the highly charged atmosphere. “It’s none of your business.”
Both swung around to confront the owner of the voice, his tall, broad-shouldered form filling the doorway.
“Cord,” Sarah began, then words failed her. His dark eyes burned into hers, searing her heart to a small, smoldering lump in her chest. Would the sight of him never fail to cause her such a chaotic mix of joy and inexpressible pain?
His glittering gaze swung next to his father. “What are you doing in here with Sarah? Trying to browbeat her into renouncing her engagement to Nick?”
“That’s already a lost cause.” His father laughed. “She’s a determined little minx, that much I’ll give her. And, as you just overheard, she’s now set her sights on clearing up all our family problems.”
“What’s between us long ago ceased to be a problem,” Cord replied grimly. “You have to care for it to be a problem.”
Edmund steadily returned his son’s gaze. “Then perhaps that’s the saddest part of all.” He sighed and turned to Sarah. “There’s one thing more I need to discuss with you, and it worked out quite conveniently that Cord’s here.”
Sarah’s guard instantly went up. “What might that be, Mr. Wainwright?”
“You told me before that you didn’t want the ranch, that it was Cord’s birthright if anything should ever happen to Nicholas. Would you care to put that in writing?”
“You mean a legal document?”
The older man nodded. “Precisely. Cord’s a lawyer. He can draw it up right now. That is, if you really meant what you said.”
She smiled, returning the im
plicit challenge. “I meant everything I said, Mr. Wainwright.” Sarah glanced at his son. “Write it, please, Cord.”
Cord’s eyes narrowed to black slits. “It seems you’ve a need to make deals with all of us. Have you made one with Nick too?”
“No.” The word was exhaled on a soft sigh. “He’s the only one of you who seems to trust me. Why would I need to make deals with him?”
“Then why this little charade? You know I don’t want the ranch.”
“Who knows?” She shrugged. “Maybe I want peace between you and your father.” A sudden anger flared. “What does it matter anyway? You’re getting what you want.”
“Yes, and it’s almost more than I bargained for.”
Striding to the desk, Cord pulled out a piece of writing paper and pen from the drawer. Dipping the pen into the crystal glass inkstand, he wrote for several minutes, then walked over and handed the paper to Sarah.
She silently read the contract before looking back up at him.
“Is there anything you’d like added?” he asked.
“Only that, in the case of Nick’s death, I’ll be allowed to stay here until Danny’s of an age to set out on his own.”
“That’s understood, Sarah. We wouldn’t cast out Nick’s widow.”
“Write it in then.” She handed the paper back to Cord. “My word wasn’t good enough to stand alone before. Let’s keep it all nice and legal.”
“As you wish.”
He took the contract and returned to the desk. With jerky, agitated strokes, Cord’s hand flew across the page. Finally, he threw down the pen and gestured for Sarah to come over.
Once again, her gaze scanned the paper and she nodded. “Yes, it all seems in order now.” Without a moment’s hesitation she signed the contract, then walked over and offered it to Edmund Wainwright.
The older man quickly read the paper. As he finished and met her gaze, a strange light flared in his eyes.
“Thank you.”
Sarah shook her head. “Don’t thank me. I did it for Nick. If it’ll keep the peace, it’s more than worth it.” She indicated the door. “Now, if you’ve nothing further to say to me, I’d like to go up to bed.”
Edmund grasped her arm as she turned to go. “Just one thing more. Nicholas doesn’t need to know about this. It can be our little secret, can’t it?”
Her gaze briefly met his before flitting to his son, then back again. “Why not?” Sarah replied, her heart so full and heavy she thought it might burst. “These days, it’s only one more among so many.”
“And it’s a fine mess you’ve made of things, Nicholas Wainwright!” Emma said with a disgusted huff as she served him his lunch in the kitchen the next day. “I’ve been stewing about it since yesterday. I can’t hold it in a moment longer!”
Nick’s mouth twisted in a lopsided grin. “Then, by all means, Emma, let it out. I daresay I’m man enough to take it.”
She set down his bowl with enough force to slosh the navy bean soup over its rim. Then she put her hands on her hips.
“Land sakes! What did you have in mind, to think you could maneuver Cord into admitting he loved Sarah by backing him into a corner like that? Now you’re going to marry her and Cord’s all but given up. I’ve never heard of such a lamebrained stunt in all my years!”
“I’ll admit it hasn’t turned out quite the way I’d planned,” he replied. “Cord’s just a harder nut to crack than I’d imagined. The fall dance is coming up in another couple of weeks, though. Maybe there’s still a way—”
“And I say, leave it be. Let things take their natural course. All this plotting and planning of yours have only made things worse. Let Cord and Sarah work it out for themselves.”
“What, and admit defeat? I haven’t yet begun to fight!” His face brightened with a sudden inspiration. “I’ve just gotten the most brilliant idea. Find Sarah, would you? I need to talk with her.”
Emma threw up her hands. “Sakes alive, I give up! You’re as hopeless as the rest of them.”
Grumbling to herself, she stomped from the kitchen, leaving Nick to his thoughts. Thoughts that slowly transformed his smile into one of somber contemplation.
A light rap on the door interrupted Nick from his meal. Laying aside his spoon, he turned his chair toward the door.
“Come in.”
Sarah peeked around the door. “Did you want me for something? Emma said to come to the kitchen.”
He gestured to the chair cattycorner to him at the table. “There are a few things we need to discuss.”
“And what might they be?” she asked as she settled herself into the seat.
“Well, for one, there’s the matter of our wedding date. I think it’s time we settle on a day and make the formal announcement.”
Sarah felt the blood drain from her face. “If that’s what you want, Nick. How soon would you like to be married?”
He took up his cup of tea and sipped it before answering. “I suppose you’d like a formal wedding. Most young ladies do. Is a month enough time?”
“A-a month?” Sarah couldn’t quite stifle a gasp.
“Too soon?” Nick asked with a quirk of his head. “Well, how about six weeks then? That’s my best offer. I must confess to a case of the overeager groom.”
“Six weeks would be fine, Nick.”
“Good. What kind of engagement ring would you like then? Something with emeralds to match your eyes?”
She swallowed hard. “That won’t be necessary. I know there’s not a lot of extra money right now. A plain wedding band will do.”
His mouth tightened. “Then what about the guest list? Obviously, it wouldn’t be appropriate to invite your family, other than Danny, but if you’ve any special friends . . .”
This was beginning to feel like torture. The last thing she wanted to do right now was discuss wedding plans.
Sarah shook her head. “No. No one special. Whoever you decide upon will be fine with me, Nick.”
“And that’s all a bunch of hogwash, and you know it, Sarah!” He set down his cup and leaned toward her. “What about you?” he demanded hoarsely. “So far, all you’ve done is accede to my wishes. What do you really want?”
She had never seen Nick so angry. “I-I don’t know what you mean. Wh-whatever makes you happy makes me happy.”
“Then work it out with Cord. That would make me happy.”
“Work what out?” She struggled to comprehend what he was saying. “What do Cord and I have to work out?”
“The love between you, of course.” Nick sighed in exasperation. “Do you know you’re the only two people in this house who haven’t seemed to notice it yet?”
“I’m marrying you, Nick, not Cord.”
“But it’s Cord you really love, really want to marry, isn’t it?”
Her eyes filled with tears and trickled down her cheeks. “N-Nick . . .”
“Oh, it’s okay, Angel.” He took her hand. “I’ve known it all along.”
“Th-then why did you agree to marry me?”
“Because I was just as lamebrained as you and Cord. I was bound and determined to force that bullheaded brother of mine to think of himself just this once and admit that he loves you. Emma claims I really made a mess of things, though.”
“L-loves me?” Sarah swiped away the tears with the back of her hand. “C-Cord loves me?”
“Of course he does. Ask Emma if you don’t believe me.”
Her eyes narrowed in disbelief. “Then why hasn’t he told me? Why did he all but push me into your arms? It doesn’t make sense!”
“Love frequently does that to people. Makes them senseless, I mean.” Nick squeezed her hand. “Look, I just thought I’d play the matchmaker and help things along a bit. You know, try to make Cord jealous. Unfortunately, it backfired. Cord thought I was in love with you and gallantly stepped aside. Now we’re all in a fine pickle. I’m so sorry, Sarah.” He shifted uncomfortably in his wheelchair and hung his head. “I didn’t mean for it to
turn out this way.”
At his downcast expression and utter remorse in his voice, Sarah couldn’t help a smile. “I know you meant well, but there’s no sense pretending to a sham engagement just to force Cord to declare his love for me. He and I have to work this out ourselves. If we can’t, well, it isn’t meant to be. I don’t want a man who’s afraid to let himself love.”
Nick glanced up. “So what will you do?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t a lot of experience at this sort of thing.”
“I’ll help in any way I can. Just don’t give up on Cord.”
His eagerness was disarming, but Sarah knew better than to accept further assistance from Nick. “Thank you, but no thanks. On the offer of help, I mean. And, after what you’ve told me about Cord, I’m far from ready to give up on him.” She rose, then paused. “Our engagement. On second thought, if you don’t mind, I’d like to let everyone think it’s still on for a little while longer. Until I decide what to do . . .”
“Take your time. I’m rather enjoying watching my brother stew in his own juices.”
Sarah shook her head, then grinned. “You’re incorrigible, you know.”
“Yes,” Nick replied with unrepentant glee. “So I’ve been told.”
A week later, the carriage pulled up in front of McPherson’s Mercantile, but the two women inside remained seated.
“I don’t feel right about this,” Sarah finally said. “Spending money on a new dress at a time like this . . .”
“Don’t you worry your pretty head about that, child,” Emma was quick to reassure her. “Some fabric for a gown for the fall dance isn’t going to make or break the Wainwrights. Besides, as Nicholas’s fiancée, you’re going to have to have some new clothes sooner or later. This is as good a time as any to start.”
Sarah frowned. “I still don’t feel good about this.”
Emma briskly climbed down from the carriage and tied up the horse. “No more of this, child. Come on. There’s work to do. We’ve got less than two weeks to make you a ball dress.”
Dougal McPherson was busy with several customers, so Emma quickly pulled Sarah behind the counter to where the bolts of fabric were shelved. The selection was limited, especially of the finer cloths, as Dougal couldn’t afford to keep a large inventory, and most people with the time to do so made use of the mail order catalogs. After much discussion, however, Sarah finally settled on an indigo blue velvet with an intricately woven black silk braid to trim it.
Heart of the Rockies Collection Page 13
