“Julie,” he breathed, as if seeing her for the very first time at that moment.
His arms tightened protectively around her. It was the most wonderful feeling she’d ever experienced. He traced her cheek softly with his thumb where the tears had run.
“I’m sorry. Whatever it was I did—I wouldn’t ever hurt you—”
“You didn’t.” She shook her head, tearing her gaze away from him, boldly laying her head on his shoulder. “I was feeling sorry for myself.”
“Why? About coming here, you mean?”
She smiled faintly at the alarm in his tone. How long had it been since anyone cared about her feelings? Not since Helena… Her eyes watered again. She missed her sister.
She sniffed, her fresh tears soaking into Dev’s woolen shirt. “I’m sorry. No. Not about coming here. Just…the circumstances that brought me to this.”
• ♥ •
Dev knew he was playing with fire. After seeing how good Julie was with little Jamie, he knew he couldn’t bear to lose her now. In the short time she’d been here, she’d made this house into a home. If he was completely honest with himself…she’d transformed the place into a welcoming haven more in three days than Annella had for the entire seven years they’d been married.
How many times had he wondered…what was missing? Now, he knew. It was nothing tangible—but it was more important than anything else ever could have been. And Miss Julia Jackson had brought it along with her from Atlanta, unleashing it throughout the house as soon as she’d unpacked her threadbare bags.
Maybe he’d ruined everything—
Julie pushed away from him slowly. She was a lady. She wouldn’t appreciate him taking any kind of liberties—and he was pretty sure holding her close to him like he’d done, wrapping his arms around her, breathing in the clean scent of her…yeah, those were some ‘liberties’ all right. Indecent liberties, if he let his thoughts take off and run wild like they’d started to do.
Reluctantly, he released her. “Let’s go sit by the fire for a few minutes—if you like—” he added quickly. After pulling her into that embrace, he didn’t want her to feel beholden to him for anything.
But she looked up at him and gave him a grateful smile. “Yes—I would. I’ll pour us some coffee.”
He nodded and went on ahead to put another log on the fire. Maybe it was time for them to learn more about each other. They were going to be living under the same roof for a good long while if she made up her mind to stay.
And he was going to do everything in his power to convince her that the Flying C was where she belonged. Even if it meant—well, whatever it meant. He would do it.
Devlin Campbell wasn’t one to admit he needed anyone. But he’d be a fool to deny it, in this case. Julia Jackson seemed to have brought the sunshine to his dreary days along with her. And he wouldn’t let her go easily.
• ♥ •
What in the world had come over her? Dev had only meant to steady her when she’d turned—so clumsily, and run right into him! But she’d gone straight into his arms as if—as if he’d meant for it to happen!
What else could he have done without embarrassing her? Mortifying her, more like it. Thank goodness for his compassion and basic caring—and how he must have known she would have felt if it had seemed she was throwing herself at her new employer.
She needed this position! She couldn’t afford to throw it away. Out here, there wouldn’t be any other kind of employment except…except maybe as a saloon girl.
She shuddered at the thought. Now, Dev would think she was as easy as any of those soiled doves at the local bar.
She poured the coffee, accidentally spilling some on her hand. With a grimace, she wiped it off quickly and cleaned up the mess. She would need to be more careful around him, and not mistake his kindness for anything else.
He’d lost his wife a year ago. A year…was a long time for a man to—to not have his basic needs met. A year. She felt her cheeks warming at that thought.
She shouldn’t even know about such base things, but thankfully, Helena had explained many facts to her about men, marriage, and expectations.
She carried the cups in and set them on the coffee table, then seated herself at the far end of the settee. Should she mention her faux pas in the kitchen? She hadn’t meant to make him uncomfortable—
“Julie, I—must apologize for—uh…touching you. In the kitchen. If I was too familiar, please forgive me. I’ll promise you that—well, it won’t happen again.”
“Dev, you didn’t—”
“Yes. I did. I think—” He stopped himself, blowing out a long breath. “I want you to stay here. I don’t want you to ever feel that you’d be pressured to do something—improper. Something you might regret. You’re completely safe here. Safe with me, I mean.”
Disappointment engulfed her. Would this mean she’d have to stand on the outside, looking in, for the rest of her life? Watch him find another woman, eventually, and court her…marry her… Then, there’d be no more use for a nursemaid, would there?
But losing her employment wouldn’t be nearly so bad as watching Dev Campbell holding another woman in his arms as he’d held her!
How could they live together so closely and keep a distant relationship?
She was well past marriageable age in Southern society. And since the war, there had been very few eligible men left who were looking for a wife. Most of the young men who had returned from fighting were intent only on surviving. That was hard enough to do alone, much less with a wife, and the inevitable children that would follow.
From the time she’d been born, it seemed, Julia had been brought up to want what all the other genteel ladies of her class wanted. A home. A family. But she wanted more—she wanted love. She wanted a man who wanted her—someone she could plan a future with—even if it meant talking about fine horseflesh, or how many acres of cotton to plant, or the new purchase of a rifle—
And, quite by accident, she’d found such a man. Devlin Campbell. But employees didn’t marry their employers. And here he was, telling her he was sorry. She needed to respond. Somehow.
Say something—
She squared her shoulders and spoke her mind, just the way her mother and sister had always cautioned her against doing. “Devlin Campbell, will you marry me?”
• ♥ •
Dev coughed as the burning liquid seemed to go down sideways—and then the cup sloshed over and spilled. It soaked into his denims, perilously close to “the family jewels”, and after the first scorching touch, thankfully, began to cool.
He was forced to admit that the idea of marriage had been encroaching on his thoughts since—well, since the moment he’d laid eyes on her…But how could that be?
Annella had scarce been gone a year, now. But Julie living here with him was—was going to ruin her, if it hadn’t, already.
“It’s not that I came here looking for marriage,” she went on anxiously. “But circumstances—I had no choice, and—”
“I know, Julie,” he said quietly. “And I—you’re right. It’ll give everyone a lifetime of gossip if we don’t tie the knot.”
At her shocked look, Dev mentally kicked himself. What a lovely proposal!
“I’m sorry.” He raked a hand through his dark hair. “I’ve been thinking along those lines myself.”
Had he? Really?
She looked as surprised as he felt, to hear those words coming out of his mouth.
“Y-you have?”
“It’s not proper. I mean—ah, hell, Julie. I wasn’t expecting Miss Julia Jackson to be so—young. And warm. Beautiful…”
Somehow, the distance between them had decreased, and they were now close enough to touch one another. They naturally leaned together to talk. The only sounds were the hiss of the nearby flames, the wind outside, and their breathing.
Julia smiled. “Well, as you can see, all women—despite their ‘stately’ names—are younger at some point in their lives. I assure yo
u, I was once a baby and a little girl. Even a young adolescent.”
“You’re still young to me, Julie. I’m not kidding myself. You may not be interested in marriage to someone so much…older. I’d guess I’ve got a good ten years on you.”
“I’m twenty-two. In the interest of honest and full disclosure.”
She said it so seriously he had to smile. He wanted to kiss her—badly. Drive away that anxious worry in her beautiful eyes.
“Just a baby,” he murmured.
“No,” she said in a low voice. “I just felt you should know.” She folded her hands in her lap primly, not looking at him.
In that moment, he realized how much courage it had taken for her to ask him to marry her. And if he guessed right, he figured she asked for the children’s sakes, rather than her own. She wouldn’t want to risk what ills the gossip would bring to them.
“Julie, I would be honored if you would be my wife. I…can’t say I love you, nor hope you could love me in so short a time. But—I believe there’s hope for that in our future. I promise to honor you, protect you, and trust you. I’ll never raise a hand to you. And I’ll never uh—force my attentions on you, unless—well, unless we’re agreeable on that subject.”
Finally, she raised her eyes to his. “Oh, Dev…I can only promise you the same, and say that—I look forward to our future together. And also—I know I was presumptuous to bring marriage up to you, and so soon, but—”
“No, you were right, Julie. Sometimes, men have to have things spelled out for them, I guess.” He gave a short laugh. “Your reputation is at stake. We don’t want a pall cast on the children for something we did—or didn’t—do.”
He saw her composure slip for a moment, and realized he’d been right in his earlier assumptions. She definitely had been thinking of the children. Somehow, that gave him a pang of disappointment.
Fool. It’s too soon to think she might care for you. Of course she was thinking of them—as it should be!
“I know you were in love with your wife,” Julia said in a carefully controlled tone. “I don’t expect to take her place…in—in your heart.”
Dev’s pulse quickened with hope and the condemnation of his own feelings of betrayal. He made no response, but remained silent. How could he say the right thing, in any case?
The love he and Annella had once shared had been gone long before Heather had died. He’d even had doubts that Jamie was his, after learning a neighboring rancher, Claude Mapleton, had paid more than one visit to Annella while Dev and most of the men had been gone on the late summer cattle drive a couple of years ago.
Though Jamie carried the dark good looks of what could be assumed to be Dev’s Chickasaw Indian blood, the fact was, Claude’s coloring was much the same, with his own Indian ancestry.
Dev would accept Jamie as his own, love him as his own—he had no proof Jamie was or wasn’t his blood son. But he would always wonder.
“Things aren’t always what they seem,” he murmured.
Julie met his eyes, her own filled with hope. “No…I only cherish the thought that someday, it might be as you’ve said, Dev. Regardless, I will make the best home I can for you, Jamie, and Lauralee. And for your brother, as long as he’s here.”
• ♥ •
Oh, dear. It seemed those last words had been like a bucket of ice water, dousing the warmth of the entire spell of the room, the conversation…
How could she have done that? She hadn’t meant to!
Dev had visibly leaned back from the intimate distance he’d maintained as they spoke, the lines hardening in his face, his lips thinning. Julia had the feeling he’d also just bitten back a curse that should never be uttered in mixed company.
What had happened between Dev and Alex? It seemed Alex was trying to make some kind of amends—and Dev was having none of it. But why?
Well, if they were to have honesty and understanding between them, let it begin now. She drew in a steadying breath.
“I see I’ve caused you some concern by the mention of your brother. I’m wondering—why?”
She half-believed he wouldn’t tell her. But it seemed that Dev must have come to the same conclusion as she had about honesty.
At first, he started to shake his head, then caught her engaging stare, and gave a long sigh. He leaned back into the settee, his head resting on the cushioned back of the sofa.
“Alex is seven years younger than I am. He and I are half-brothers. Same father, different mothers.”
“Did—your mother pass, then?” Julia was careful. She wanted to show concern, interest, and support. She could see how difficult this was for him to talk about. But her upbringing dictated that she not cross the line of rudeness—she mustn’t pry.
Dev’s lips quirked. A peculiar response! But she forced herself to wait for him to frame his answer.
“Alex wasn’t the bastard, Julie; I was.”
Dev’s answer caught her so off guard, she gasped. “Dev, I—”
He waved a dismissive hand. “I assure you, I’ve grown accustomed to every slur anyone can throw my way. I’m Chickasaw. I’m Scots-Irish, and I was born out of wedlock. And not one of those things did I have anything to do with, nor can I change.”
“No, of course not!”
“Still want to marry me, Julie? Maybe you weren’t expecting such a—stellar pedigree in a husband.”
She leaned forward and laid a hand on his arm. “Devlin Campbell, don’t be ridiculous. The circumstances of your birth make no difference as to the kind of man you are!”
“You really believe that?”
“Of course!” She didn’t have to search far in her own experiences for an example to share. “My brother, Jerome, was the heir to our family money. But he was a gambler. In the South, gambling is a gentleman’s pastime. But—” She stopped, then plunged on.
“It got the best of him. Gambling fever gripped him and wouldn’t let go. And…he—he gambled away everything—and more. And they—they murdered him when he couldn’t pay all the money he’d promised.” She shook her head. “At least, that’s what we believe happened to him. He had no way to pay it, and they knew it.”
She fell silent a moment, then went on. “He was born to a good family and raised to be a gentleman, but—he couldn’t stop gambling. He lost everything. Even his life.”
“I’m sorry,” Dev said. He put his arm around her, and she easily came into his embrace, laying her head on his shoulder. The solid warmth of the security he offered enabled her to finish. “By the circumstances of his birth, you would never think he’d meet that kind of an end—dying in a dark alley. Murdered. He was a good brother, in every other way, Dev. He had flaws, but don’t we all?”
• ♥ •
Oh, yes. Don’t we all…
But Alex…what were all of Alex’s flaws? Dev wasn’t sure he could remember now. How could he forget?
Suddenly, the image of his young brother gazing up at him with his own stamp of dark eyes and hair, came to him as clear as a picture. He saw the worshipful look fade to crushed disappointment as his own teen-aged self had muttered a dismissal, and then ridden away. Again.
After all, at fifteen, he’d had no time for a pesky eight-year-old kid brother. A brother who obviously thought Dev had hung the moon.
Resentment had cut deep. He liked to think that was gone now. That he had no room for Alex because of his wild ways and the trouble he was sure to bring with him.
“Alex is trouble,” he said aloud, as if to convince himself. “He always did as he pleased—and he still does.”
“Maybe he just needed some guidance,” Julia said. “I don’t know what might have become of me if I hadn’t had Helena. After—when it was only the two of us, she was my everything. I had no one else.”
Alex had had no one else, either. The thought crept into Dev’s mind and wouldn’t let go. Alex’s mother had left and gone back to her people. Cullen Campbell, their father had been disinterested in both his sons.
And once he arrived at his father’s house, he discovered he had a three-year-old brother he studiedly took no interest in. Wasn’t it time for Dev to have a father? Alex had had him for three years—all to himself!
In light of Julie’s generous, compassionate understanding, even his remembrances of childhood emotions seemed petty.
But Alex had been in and out of trouble from the time he’d hit puberty. Dev had left for good at sixteen. He figured he could make his own way in the world easier than he could spend one more night under a tyrant’s roof! His father was heavy-handed, and a steady drinker.
“The last time I saw Alex, it was to pay his bail. Get him out of jail, over at Fort Smith.”
Julia shivered. “What an awful place! Even I’ve heard of that—and Judge Parker’s bloody reputation. I’m so glad you got Alex to safety!”
“Yeah. He ‘fell in with the wrong group of people’, as the saying goes. They decided to rob a train. But he changed his mind and didn’t actually ride along.”
“He did the right thing, then.”
From the second floor, a loud crash sounded. It could be only one thing—the noise of a body falling to the wood floor. It was followed by a shout and a curse.
Dev sprang up quickly and started for the stairway, Julia close on his heels. They hurried up the stairs together, then turned down the hallway toward Alex’s bedroom. The door was open, and Alex lay on the floor, trying to push himself upward, but unable to do so.
Dev rushed forward and lifted him up, helping him to sit on the edge of the bed.
“What the hell are you trying to do, kill yourself?” Dev ground out roughly.
“They—the kids…they took—” Alex stopped, grimacing, then lay back with a groan. “Damn it! Go! They have…the kids…”
CHAPTER 6
The Devil and Miss Julia Jackson Page 4
