The intimacy of the moment — the two of them, man and woman, alone in this parlor in the dark of night — made her breath quicken. When he rose and came toward her, she closed her eyes, concentrating on the thundering of her heart even as she heard the other chair creak as he settled onto it.
“I was thinking about Dru,” he repeated after a lengthy silence. “About what she hoped for the future for everyone she loved.”
Emily had wanted things too. She had wanted this man. She had wanted a future with him. “I told Dru I would stay until June. I’ll keep my promise.” It was too late for a future with Gavin, even if he’d wanted it. She had given her pledge to Patrick.
“Maybe you could come with us when we take the cattle to the summer range. Maybe you could stay longer than June.” He paused. “The girls will miss you if you go away.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t.” She opened her eyes to look at him. “I . . . I’m getting married in June.” She hadn’t meant to tell him this way, but the need to shield herself against the desires of her heart forced the words from her.
“Patrick,” he said softly. “I should have known.”
“He’s been so kind to us these past weeks. And yesterday, when he asked me to marry him, I — ”
Her words of explanation were cut off when he stood and pulled her to her feet. She had no time to protest, no time to try to pull away, before his mouth claimed hers. She had been kissed before. Patrick had kissed her only yesterday. But she’d never been kissed like this, never in a way that made the world spin like a child’s top. All that existed for her was the feel of his arms as he embraced her, the taste of his lips upon hers, and the terrible knowledge that she was no longer free to love him.
As quickly as the kiss began, it ended. Gavin took a step backward. “Patrick has the means to give you everything money can buy.” His voice sounded gruff. “But is that enough, Emily?” He turned and walked away.
She sank onto the chair a second time and wept.
Twenty
Patrick pulled the fur blanket over Emily’s lap. “Ready?”
She nodded.
He glanced behind them at the two girls snuggled beneath another lap robe in the back of the sleigh. “Are the lasses ready?”
“Yes,” they cried in unison, both of them wreathed in excited grins.
“Good. Let’s go!” He picked up the reins and smacked them smartly against the rumps of the dappled-gray team. As the sleigh slipped across the yard between house and barn, Patrick waved at Gavin who stood near the barn door.
He was glad Gavin had refused the invitation to join them. There would be other times to be a good friend to the poor man. Today he preferred to think of the happier times that were to come. Today he preferred to be alone with his betrothed.
He glanced to his right, a pleasant warmth spreading through him as he looked at Emily. The cold air had added splashes of pink to her cheekbones and the tip of her nose. Pretty enough for a Cur-rier and Ives lithograph in her fur-lined bonnet and white muff.
It was still hard for him to believe that she’d consented to be his wife. Every time he’d seen her over the past week, he’d wondered if she would tell him that she’d changed her mind. Wonder of wonders, she hadn’t. And today, the first day of the New Year, they were going to announce the news to his family. It had been hard not to tell his brothers before this, but somehow he’d managed to keep his promise to Emily, just as he hoped to keep all his promises to her for the rest of his life.
Patrick wasn’t running with blinders on, of course. He knew he didn’t own the fair maiden’s heart. Not yet. Not fully. But she was fond of him, and that was a good start in his mind. From what he’d seen, married folks who began as good friends seemed happier longer than some who married in a blaze of passion.
Still, the months leading to June stretched impossibly long in his mind. They couldn’t be over too soon for his liking.
Emily stared at Killarney Hall as the sleigh sped toward it. The stone house seemed even more impressive today than on her first visit here. It sprawled against the backdrop of mountains, the exterior a solemn gray against the pristine whiteness of winter.
As if he’d read her thoughts, Patrick said, “Killarney Hall is fashioned after the estate of an old English baron in Ireland. My parents came to America while I was still a lad, but my da never stopped missing the emerald-green valleys or the cool, misty mornings of Ireland.”
“Where are your parents now?”
“Buried, both of them, beneath the aspens.” He pointed up the slope of the foothill. “Three years ago now.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, wondering that she hadn’t known this before they became engaged. They’d spent many hours together, but she’d never asked questions, never tried to know him better than what he offered on his own. She hadn’t been curious enough to ask questions, and the realization shamed her.
I want to care for him. I want to make him a good wife. There are so many reasons that I should love him.
But her traitorous heart yearned for another even now.
“Emily? Have you heard a word I’ve said?”
She looked at Patrick. “I’m sorry. My mind was wandering.”
“Are you ready to go in?”
She hadn’t noticed the sleigh had stopped. “Yes, I’m ready.” There was no going back now, and that was for the best.
As Patrick, Emily, and the children stepped into the entry hall, a servant — dressed in a black suit, white shirt and collar — appeared to take their wraps. “The family is waiting for you in the salon, sir.”
“Thank you, Crandall. Do you think Cook might be able to find a piece of cake for the lasses?”
Sabrina’s and Petula’s eyes lit up with eagerness.
“I think so, sir. If you’ll follow me, young ladies, I’ll take you to the kitchen.”
“May we, Miss Harris?” Sabrina asked.
Emily nodded. “If you promise to mind your manners. You too, Pet.”
“We will,” they said in unison.
After the girls disappeared into the bowels of the house with the butler, Patrick offered the crook of his arm. “Are you ready?”
She forced a smile onto her lips. “I’m ready.”
All four of the O’Donnell brothers were brawny men, none of them standing under six-foot-two. Each of Patrick’s younger brothers had red hair, although the shades varied slightly, from Patrick’s carrot red to Trevor’s rich auburn. They also had the same open, friendly faces and the same laughing eyes.
It was a bit daunting, walking into their midst. She felt overwhelmed by their size and enthusiasm as they crowded close, paying her outrageous compliments and saying it was about time Patrick brought her back to Killarney Hall.
It was Pearl, Shane’s bride of a little more than six weeks, who relieved some of Emily’s apprehension. “Get back, you big ox.” Pearl pushed Shane on the shoulder, forcing him to take a step back. “Can’t you see she’s about to suffocate?” She took Emily’s arm and pulled her away from the four brothers. “Don’t mind them. They take some getting used to, but they’re a good-hearted lot.”
Emily glanced over her shoulder. Each of Patrick’s brothers wore satisfied grins. She thought they must have guessed the reason for today’s visit.
“You should visit us more often, Miss Harris,” Pearl continued. “Patrick can come for you in the sleigh whenever you’d like.”
“Thank you. I — ”
“Come summer,” Patrick interrupted, “you’ll be able to see Emily whenever you want. She’s going to be living at Killarney Hall . . . as my wife.”
“I knew it!” Jamie shouted.
“Sure if I didn’t see it coming!” Shane slapped his older brother on the back. “Congratulations, Paddy.”
Trevor gripped Patrick by the upper arms and gave him a shake. “We’d given up hope you’d find the courage before you were too old, brother.”
Pearl gave Emily a hug. “I’m so glad, Miss Harri
s. Now I won’t be the only woman in the family. We’ll be sisters, you and I.”
“Please. Call me Emily.”
The brothers surrounded her before she could say anything more. She received a bear-like hug, followed by a kiss on each cheek, from each of them. Finally, she was claimed once again by Patrick. He led her to a sofa, then sat beside her, his arm around her shoulders. As the brothers and Pearl took nearby seats, he regaled them with stories of his courtship of the lovely Emily Harris, much of it dramatically embellished. The room was filled with laughter as the minutes ticked away on the mantel clock.
Emily felt like a terrible fraud. Since Patrick loved her, the whole clan would love her. That was apparent. But she didn’t deserve their easy and effusive affection. They believed she loved their brother in return, that she would marry him for all the right and proper reasons, that she would make him happy. She wished she did love him. It would make things so much easier. But she was determined to learn to love him. She knew she would in time.
“Sir.” Crandall’s imperious voice broke into her thoughts. “Cook reports that dinner is ready. Shall I inform her you are adjourning to the dining hall?”
“Yes, Crandall. Do so at once.” Patrick turned a solemn look on Emily. “It’s the devil to pay if the O’Donnells aren’t ready when the food is. Cook rules her corner of the house with a vengeance. You’ll meet her later and no doubt win her over with your sweet smile.”
She wasn’t sure whether or not he spoke in jest. “I’ll do my very best.”
Patrick stood and drew her up from the sofa.
“Wait,” she said as the others rose too. “I have a favor to ask of everyone.”
They all looked at her.
“I . . . I haven’t yet told Sabrina and Petula of my engagement. It’s too soon after they lost their mother. Please, let us not mention it within their hearing. I want to wait until the time is right.”
Patrick gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. “Sure and we understand. We’ll not say a word.”
She gave him a grateful glance. All would be well with them. She knew it would.
Twenty-One
“And this will be our bedroom, once you’re Mrs. O’Donnell.”
Patrick shoved open the door, revealing the chamber with its large four-poster bed, gleaming wood floors, and cherrywood bureaus. Persian rugs were scattered around the room. Upholstered chairs sat in a cozy semi-circle before the fireplace. Heavy draperies framed the large windows.
Emily felt a hard lump form in her belly as she stepped into the room. “It’s beautiful.”
“Not nearly as beautiful as you.” He closed the door behind him.
She knew she would feel his hands on her arms any moment, knew that he would turn her toward him, that he intended to kiss her. There was no avoiding it this time. Except for the day she’d accepted his proposal, she’d managed to forestall anything more than a few pecks on the cheek. She’d kept the children nearby as a safeguard.
But they weren’t with her now.
“Emily.”
It happened just as she’d expected. He turned her to face him, pulled her close into his embrace, and brought his head low to kiss her. He held her tenderly, lovingly. His lips were warm upon hers.
She waited to be stirred. She wanted her world to be knocked askew. She wanted Patrick’s kisses to be as memorable as the kiss she’d shared with Gavin.
Gavin . . . Go away. Leave me be.
She pulled back from Patrick, feeling warmth rise in her cheeks. Kissing one man. Thinking of another. It was wrong, and she was ashamed.
Patrick stared down at her for a few moments, then amusement lit his face. “There’s no need for embarrassment, my love. We’re to be wed.”
“I . . . I’m not — ”
“Aye, I can see I’ll have to move slowly. But you needn’t fear me.”
“I’m not afraid of you, Patrick. Truly I’m not. It’s just that . . .” It’s just that you’re the wrong man. “It’s just — ”
“No need to explain. I understand. And I know that you’ll get over your shyness with time. I’m a patient man.”
But he didn’t understand. Couldn’t understand. And how patient would he have to be if she continued to long for another man in his place?
Joker scratched at the door and whined, then returned to his master’s chair and rested his muzzle on Gavin’s thigh.
“They ought to be home soon.” Gavin stroked the wolfhound’s head. “Too quiet around here when they’re gone, isn’t it?”
Joker groaned, as if in understanding.
Gavin returned his gaze to the fire, his thoughts drifting as he watched the hypnotic flickering of the flames. He remembered the way Emily had looked the day of Shane O’Donnell’s wedding. She’d fit right in at Killarney Hall, perfectly suited to one day be its mistress. She fit in there much better than here. It was a truth he’d always known, right from the first time he saw her in Boise City. But he no longer wanted it to be true.
He shouldn’t have kissed her. That had been a grave mistake on his part. The moment he’d heard she was to marry Patrick he should have walked away. He’d never expected her to stay anyway. Never wanted her to stay. Dru had wanted it, and he’d let that confuse him. That was all.
Patrick was a good sort, not to mention he was as rich as King Midas, thanks to his late father’s success in the gold fields. Emily would be happy with Patrick. What woman wouldn’t be happy, living in the lap of luxury? Wouldn’t he want the same for his daughters?
“She won’t need a big wedding,” Emily had told him as they’d watched Sabrina’s heartbreak over Trevor. “All that will matter to her is that she loves the groom and that her family is with her.”
Gavin shook his head. Easy enough for Emily to say. After all, she would soon be married to the head of the O’Donnell clan.
“Look, Miss Harris!” Petula cried from the back of the sleigh, her voice filled with excitement. “Look at the deer!”
As Emily twisted around, she saw Petula jump onto the seat, her arm pointing behind them. “Sit down, Pet. You shouldn’t be — ”
Before the warning was all the way out of Emily’s mouth, the sleigh jerked hard to the right. With a scream, the child bounced over the back of the sleigh.
“Patrick, stop!”
He pulled back on the reins.
The moment the sleigh came to a rest, Emily shoved off the lap robe and jumped to the ground. She stumbled in the snow, falling to her knees. “Pet!” She scrambled to her feet and raced back along the sleigh tracks.
“My arm,” Pet whimpered. “My arm hurts, Miss Harris. It hurts bad.”
Before Emily could lift the girl into her arms, Patrick’s hand on her shoulder stopped her. “Don’t move her yet. Let me have a look first.”
“Is she gonna be all right?” Sabrina came to stand next to Emily. Her face was ashen, her eyes frightened as she whispered, “She’s not gonna die, is she?”
Emily dropped to her knees and hugged Sabrina. “No, Brina. Pet’s going to be fine. You’ll see.” She understood the child’s fear. Both her father and her mother had been taken from her in a short period of time. It wasn’t surprising that she might fear an accident would take Petula from her as well.
Patrick turned toward Emily. “I believe her arm’s broken. It doesn’t look right to me.” He frowned. “We’re almost to the ranch. I’ll take you there, then head for town to get the doctor.”
Petula continued to whimper in pain as Patrick lifted her from the ground and carried her toward the sleigh, Emily and Sabrina close on his heels. As soon as Emily was seated, he passed the child into her waiting arms, then hurried around to the opposite side and got in. Moments later, they were hurtling across the frosty countryside.
“It hurts,” Petula said amidst her sobs.
“I know, Pet. But it won’t hurt for long. We’re almost home, and then we’ll get you taken care of.”
Gavin stepped through the doorway at the sam
e moment the sleigh pulled into the yard. Perhaps it was the expression on their faces or the hectic way they’d arrived, but he seemed to know something was amiss even before his gaze fell on the whimpering little girl in Emily’s arms.
“What happened?”
Emily answered, “Pet fell. We think her arm is broken.”
“It hurts, Pa.”
Gavin took the child from Emily. “We’ll get it fixed, Pet. Hold on. We’ll take care of it.”
Emily and Sabrina disembarked and followed Gavin toward the house.
“I’ll be back with the doctor as quick as I can,” Patrick called to them.
Once inside, Gavin laid Petula on the bed in the children’s room, propping her head with a pillow. Emily removed the girl’s shoes before pulling a comforter over her legs.
“We need to take your coat off,” Gavin said.
“No, Pa. It’ll hurt too much. I don’t wanna move it.” Petula squeezed her eyes shut. “It hurts bad.”
Gavin’s gaze met Emily’s. She felt the same helplessness she saw in his eyes. “We could cut it off,” she suggested softly.
“It’s her only coat.”
His reply felt like a slap, and she wanted to sit and cry along with Petula.
“Children mend mighty quick from a thing like this.” Dr. Forester led the way out of the children’s bedroom. “She’ll have some pain at first, but her arm will heal up fine. Just keep her quiet until it’s good and mended.”
“For how long?”
“About six weeks. Maybe not even that long. Children tend to heal faster than adults.”
Gavin tried to imagine Petula staying still for six weeks. “Easier said than done.”
Dr. Forester chuckled. “Do the best you can.” He turned toward Emily, who stood just outside Petula’s bedroom. “The laudanum should help her sleep for several more hours. Watch the clock and don’t give her more until I said.”
Robin Lee Hatcher Page 14
