Her Cherokee Groom
Page 25
Shannon had done him a favor, giving him his ring back. And he wasn’t planning on giving it to anyone else who could only see a man for his bank account or social standing.
Neither of which would amount to much if he didn’t figure out who was sabotaging operations at the mine. A couple weeks ago, an entire tunnel had caved in, narrowly avoiding killing several workers. His brother-in-law, Arthur, had told him that it was the cost of doing business, and these things happened sometimes. But that wasn’t how George’s father had done business, and had it not been for a runaway carriage, he’d still be here to make things right.
Which left the task up to George.
His mother had been badly injured in the carriage accident, and her medical bills and treatments were costly. Arthur was busy handling the family’s other business interests, which were also inexplicably losing money. Though Arthur had insisted that George remain at Harvard, pursuing his studies so that he could eventually take his place in the family businesses, George couldn’t sit back and watch his family lose everything.
Arthur might be too busy to get to the bottom of the troubles at the mine, but George wasn’t. How could he continue spending money that the family might not have much longer? His mother needed the medical care. His sister was expecting another baby. No, the answer was not to bury himself in the books, but in this mine.
Folks used to say that Elias Bellingham was far too generous in his dealings with others, and that it would someday send him to the poorhouse. Which was why, Arthur had told him, the family business was nearly bankrupt again.
Didn’t George owe it to his father’s legacy to see if he could turn things around at the mine?
A faint whimper on the other side of the tree where he’d laid his canteen caught his attention. As George rounded the tall pine that hadn’t yet been claimed by the camp for fuel or building material, he spied a little boy sitting in the hollow near a boulder a few yards away.
“Hey, little guy,” George said softly as he approached. “Are you all right?”
The small boy couldn’t be more than three or four years old, the same age as his nephew, Sam.
A tear-stained face stared up at him, longing thick in the child’s eyes. He spoke rapidly, but the words were foreign to George. All he could understand was, “Père.”
Father. George had taken a few French lessons, but he’d been terrible at it. Many of his peers had had French nannies, learning the language as part of daily life. But the Bellinghams had gone with a more traditional English nanny. Which did him little good now.
Since the boy looked like he was about to start crying again, George knelt beside him. Maybe the boy spoke English. “Parlez-vous Anglais?”
The little boy shook his head. Great. That was about the extent of the French he could remember, other than a few words that didn’t seem helpful here.
Pointing to himself, he said, “George.”
Then he pointed at the little boy.
“Pierre,” the boy said.
Then the boy began speaking again in rapid French. George shook his head and pointed to himself again. “No parlez Français.”
Hopefully it was enough to convey to the boy that he didn’t understand. The boy nodded slowly as tears continued rolling down his cheeks.
George pointed to himself again. “George...help...Pierre.” Wait. What was the word for help? “Aid?”
That seemed to get Pierre’s attention, or at least stop the flow of tears.
Pierre pointed at George’s canteen.
“Are you thirsty?”
Silly of him to ask, since Pierre probably didn’t know the word. George held out the canteen, mostly empty from Flora’s use, but there was a little water to spare.
Pierre drank the water quickly, then pointed to his stomach.
What was the word for hungry? Back when George was pudgy, everything had been about food. “Faim?”
Hopefully he wasn’t telling Pierre something awful. But Pierre nodded, so George took that as a good sign.
Judging by the fact that the little boy was alone and crying, George was going to assume he’d somehow gotten separated from his father. But how was he supposed to find a little boy’s father when he’d barely arrived at the mining camp himself? He’d been here just long enough to pitch a tent and gain employment at the mine.
Flora. She was here with the church mission. Perhaps the people at the church mission would know of anyone who spoke French who could... George smiled. Flora had a French nanny when they were children. She used to brag about how her nanny was superior to everyone else’s because of it. She and her friends would speak in French, giving themselves airs and using it as a means to exclude the other children. Back then, he’d found it annoying.
But now, it just might save this little boy’s life. Flora could help him care for the boy and translate so they could find Pierre’s father.
George gave Pierre a smile. “Pierre come with George. Manger.” At least that’s what he thought the word for eat was. He held out his hand.
Clearly the love of food that had led to George’s torment as a child was helping him now. Pierre smiled back and took George’s hand.
George had never imagined he’d be so grateful for Flora Montgomery. When they were children, she’d teased him and tormented him mercilessly. Who knew that Flora’s annoying affectation from the past might very well be the thing he needed most right now? While pursuing his newfound attraction to her was still out of the question, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to seeing her again.
George ruffled the little boy’s hair. He wished he could convey something more to him, to make him feel comfortable, but at least Flora could do that. Despite the complication of meeting Flora so early in his quest, knowing that she could be the one person to expose him, she would also be a great asset. People might say that Elias Bellingham’s weakness was his concern for others, but George was grateful his father had passed on that trait to him. He wouldn’t feel right leaving Pierre until his father had been found, and Flora’s help would make it easier for George to help Pierre and accomplish his own mission. As long as he could keep Flora from learning his real reason for being in the camp.
Though he hoped to find Pierre’s father quickly, George was going to enjoy every moment he spent in Flora’s company until then.
Copyright © 2017 by Danica Favorite
ISBN-13: 9781488017629
Her Cherokee Groom
Copyright © 2017 by Valerie Whisenand
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, M3B 3K9 Canada.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com
book with friends