by Lucy Evanson
“Never heard of it,” he said. “What’s it about? Some kind of love? In the summer?”
He’s got to be kidding. She turned to look at him more closely. Surprisingly, his expression revealed no hint that he was joking around. How strange, she thought. He doesn’t look dense. In fact, he seemed perfectly normal, not to mention quite good-looking. His eyes were a lively bright green, like jades lit from within, and though he needed a shave, the stubble nicely outlined his strong jaw and highlighted the dimple in his chin. She hadn’t really paid attention earlier, but for a carriage driver he was very handsome. Handsome, but there might be something wrong with him. “Yes, it is,” she said. “Love in the summer. It’s a women’s book. You wouldn’t be interested, I’m sure.”
“Let me guess,” he said. “The guy and the girl end up together, right?”
“I don’t know yet,” Melanie said. “I haven’t finished it, as you can see.”
“But don’t they always? Isn’t that how those books go?”
“Have you read a lot of them?”
“Me? No,” he said. “I don’t spend a lot of time reading.”
“I’m shocked,” she murmured, then turned her attention back to the page.
She could only think of that poor man in the big house, full of staff and servants to answer every whim, yet entirely—
“Come on, now! Giddyup!” the driver barked, snapping the reins again. They were nearing the top of the hill and the horse was apparently worn out too. “You know, you could always just read the end first, and see if it’s a happy ending. That way you’d know if you want to keep reading or not.”
“What a ridiculous idea,” Melanie said. “That would ruin the story.”
“But if it ends badly, wouldn’t that ruin the story too?”
“Well, I guess, but...anyway, I already know that I want to read it,” Melanie said. “Obviously.” She made a show of spreading the book open wide again and leaning over the pages.
She could only think of that poor man—
“I’m just saying, I could take a look if you want,” he said. “I’ll let you know whether it’s worth it to go on.”
Melanie replaced her bookmark with a flourish and clapped the book closed. “Look, are you just going to keep talking all the way to the ranch?”
“Guess so,” he said, pointing ahead as they topped the hill. “Here we are.”
“What?” She turned to look ahead and saw that the wheel-rutted trail continued on, following a split-rail fence that stretched out as far as she could see. The fields were dotted with cattle, and there was a large white farmhouse topped with a copper weathervane that had gone green with age. She could see a barn and henhouse, along with several other outbuildings. “This is Tanner Ranch?”
“The one and only,” he said, as the carriage started down the hill. The slope was more gentle on this side, but allowed for a nicely quick pace.
Melanie bit her tongue, though she was seething inside. It wasn’t until they turned off the trail and drove up to the house that she allowed herself to speak. She unloaded her bags on her own, then turned to the driver. “I’m not paying you fifty cents just for a five-minute ride,” she said. “You could have just told me how close I was.”
“You didn’t ask how close you were,” he said. “You only asked if I knew where it was, and if I would take you.”
She opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out.
“Am I wrong?” he asked, as a grin spread across his face.
“I’m still not paying you,” she said. “You should be paying me for having to listen to you all the while. If I had known you were going to talk so much, I would have walked.” She gathered up her bags and went up the porch steps. “Be on your way, now,” she called over her shoulder.
“I’ll be going in just a moment.”
“I suggest you leave now,” she said. “Otherwise I’ll have you run off.” Melanie dropped her bags and knocked on the door. She tried to ignore him as she stood there waiting, though she could see him reflected in the tiny glass window set into the door. His grin was bright and wide. Too wide. Like he’s touched or something, she thought. I knew something was wrong with him.
When the door opened, however, her thoughts of the driver were happily washed away. Her aunt’s face showed shock, surprise, and joy all blended together, and she pulled Melanie close for a tight hug.
“Melanie, my goodness! What on earth are you doing here?”
“I had to leave home, Aunt Polly,” Melanie said. “I was hoping I could stay with you for a while.”
“Of course you can,” Polly said. “I’m sure it won’t be a problem.” She looked over Melanie’s shoulder. “Did you two already meet, then?”
“Not really,” the driver replied.
“This is my niece Melanie,” Polly said. “And Melanie, I’d like you to meet my boss, David Tanner.”
Chapter 4
“I feel like such a fool, insulting your boss like that!”
Polly watched as her niece flopped onto the bed. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think,” she said.
“I threatened to have him run off the property!”
“Hmm. Well, I have to admit, that does sound a mite foolish in retrospect,” Polly said. “But you didn’t know who he was. He probably thought it was funny.”
Melanie groaned. “How come your boss is so young? You’ve been working here forever.”
Polly laughed. “I was hired to take care of David when he was just a baby, and he kept me on when his parents passed. He had to, really. He would’ve starved, otherwise. Anyway, I’ll talk to him this afternoon and clear things up. I’m sure he won’t have any problem with you staying.”
Melanie gave a doubtful look, but got back to a sitting position. “I hope so,” she said. “Otherwise I really won’t have anywhere to go.”
“About that,” Polly said. “What brings you all the way down here?”
Melanie took a deep breath and gazed at the rug. “Things weren’t going very well at home,” she said. “Randall is...well, he’s not Dad.”
Polly snorted. “I’m sure he’s not. There was only one man like Ben,” she said. “Even when we were kids, I knew that he was going to be somebody special.”
Melanie nodded. “I miss him.”
“Me too. Slide over.” Polly sat on the edge of the bed and patted Melanie on the knee. “Must be hard, I’m sure. It’s like you have a whole new family now.”
“Randall’s not family,” Melanie spat. “And I’m never going back there.”
Polly turned to look at her niece. Melanie was normally the sweetest girl you ever could have imagined, but at that moment her eyes were full of dark fire. Whatever had happened up in Peshtigo, it wasn’t just the growing pains one would expect while getting used to a new father figure in the house. “My girl,” she murmured, as she took Melanie’s hand. “What happened?”
Melanie’s jaw tightened. “I don’t want to talk about it right now,” she said. “But I’m not going back. That much is certain.”
“What are you going to do, then?”
The girl’s expression softened a bit. “I’m not entirely sure,” she said. “I was thinking I’d stay here with you for a little while. You know, just two or three days, to catch up. Then I’ll see if I can stay with Cecilia.”
Polly grunted. The warm bond she had shared with her brother never existed with her sister. “I wouldn’t count on too warm a reception with her,” she said. “She never was very friendly, and being a spinster hasn’t helped any. Nothing worse than a bitter old lady. Plus we don’t have any other kin in Iowa City anyway. You don’t need to go out there.”
Melanie pursed her lips as she thought for a moment. “Well, then I was thinking I could find a job. Here in Mineral Point, maybe,” she said. “Like being a nanny or something.”
“I suppose that’s possible...”
“Or even a maid, or anything, really,” Melanie said. “There has to be some
thing I can do around here. Big city like this.”
Polly frowned. “Honey, I’d hate to see you doing a job like that,” she said. “Your father wouldn’t have wanted you to spend your life cleaning up after other people.”
“You do,” Melanie said. “And it seems to be working out fine for you.”
“Things could be worse,” Polly admitted. “But let me tell you, all that time that I spent watching David when he was a baby, cooking, cleaning, all the things that I did for this family...well, I wonder sometimes if I shouldn’t have spent that time making my own family instead.”
Melanie shrugged. “With the kind of men I’ve been meeting lately, I’m not in any hurry. And anyway, I’m only eighteen,” she said. “There’ll be time for that once I get settled in somewhere.”
Polly smiled, though her eyes didn’t show it. “I told myself that same thing,” she said. “Long time ago, now.” She patted Melanie’s knee, grabbed the bedpost and pulled herself to her feet. “In any case, I need to get supper ready. Want to give me a hand?”
“Of course,” Melanie said. “Just let me freshen up and I’ll be right there.”
Polly returned to the kitchen, where her mixing bowl was waiting for her. Melanie’s arrival had interrupted her in the middle of making biscuits, and she had to think for a moment before she remembered whether she’d added salt or not. She mixed in the rest of her ingredients and got the biscuits in the oven by the time Melanie came to help.
“Comin’ through.” David propped the door open with his foot as he brought in a big box. “Polly, you want all this stuff in the pantry? In here I have the coffee and the oil,” he said, looking down into the box. “Plus whatever else they packed in here.”
“Did you get a sack of beans like I asked?”
“I put it in the root cellar already,” he said. “But that’s about all you have room for. You have so much stuff in there, there’s barely room to turn around now.”
“Then the pantry’ll be fine,” Polly said.
David glanced at Melanie as he came through the kitchen, though she had suddenly become intensely interested in the beet she was slicing up.
“Now, Polly, you’re not making her cook when she was just getting to the good part of her book, are you?”
Melanie’s face began to mimic the beet. “I’ll finish it later,” she said, still not looking up from the cutting board.
David stepped into the pantry and began to unload the supplies. “Polly, what do you think?” he called. “If you had a book called...what was it? Love’s Bloomers?”
“Love’s Summer Bloom,” Melanie said, her cheeks glowing even more brightly.
“Oh, that’s right. Say you had a book like that. You think the guy is going to get the girl?”
“I would imagine so,” Polly said.
David emerged from the pantry. “See? Now we saved you some time. You don’t even need to read it,” he said with a grin.
Melanie finally met his gaze. “Thank you, but I’ll read it anyway,” she said. “Just in case you’re wrong. Although I’m sure you’re absolutely never wrong.”
“I see Polly’s filled you in about me, then,” he said, as his grin only widened. “Need any help with anything?”
“No,” she said. “I know how to slice beets.”
“All right, just checking,” he said. “I think I’ve got a book somewhere about beets. Maybe you’d like to read that one.”
“Would you leave her alone and unload the carriage?” Polly said. “You keep interrupting us and we’re never going to have supper ready.”
He laughed as he returned outside, but Melanie’s eyes flashed with anger as soon as she heard the door hit the frame.
“I’ve never met a man quite so annoying,” she muttered. “I can’t imagine what you went through raising him.”
“He was just teasing you,” Polly said. “David’s really a sweet boy when you get to know him.”
Melanie cut through another beet with one swipe of her knife. “If you say so,” she muttered. “Shame I’m not planning on getting to know him.”
“He’ll grow on you, you’ll see.”
Melanie only snorted, and began to cube the beet with a gleam in her eye. Polly didn’t want to know what she was picturing in her mind, and she turned her attention to the bowl of potatoes in front of her.
She could ignore the beet’s savage treatment at Melanie’s hands, but Polly couldn’t ignore the feeling that something was not right in the way David and Melanie were treating each other. The two of them were the youngsters she loved most in the world. Melanie was her closest kin—in some ways, she felt an even closer bond with Melanie than she had with Ben—and after helping to raise him from an infant, she felt like a second mother to David. Seeing things between them as less than friendly gave Polly a sick feeling in the pit of her belly.
They shouldn’t be arguing, she thought. They should be laughing. They’d be perfect for each other. Polly took a sharp breath in surprise. She never would have considered the two together before, but then again they had never met before today. Nevertheless, it made perfect sense.
Polly set down her paring knife and looked at Melanie. She had always been a warm and caring girl, and now she was a warm and caring woman—although David probably hadn’t seen that side of her in the short while she’d been on the ranch.
She looked out the kitchen window. David was in the bed of the carriage, sorting through the other things he’d brought from town. He was a funny, sweet, sensitive boy—though Melanie doubtless hadn’t seen that side of him yet either. From what she heard, the prank he played probably hadn’t seemed very funny at the time.
He needs a wife to care for him, even if he doesn’t know it, she thought, as she picked up a potato and started to peel it. And she needs a man she can depend on. But if things stay like this, then neither one will discover the good in the other. Especially if she’s planning to leave in three days. Something will have to change.
~ ~ ~
On her first bite, she nearly perforated her cheek with her fork, and she had to wipe off a smudge of mashed potatoes. It wasn’t really her fault, though; the book had an almost magnetic effect on Melanie and she found it difficult to tear her eyes away, even at the dinner table.
In the years since she had been plucked from the orphanage, Penny had seen a number of women pass through the halls of Whitelake Manor. The number was neither conspicuously high nor remarkably low—Lord Wellstone was too honorable a man to encourage a parade of women through his home, and too attractive a man to not enjoy the attention of the county’s available ladies. Their presence at the manor was a constant stream.
The latest, Miss Virginia Lawson, was much like the others who had tried to gain Lord Wellstone’s favor—and his name. Pretty, intelligent, and clearly following her ambition above all else. Penny hated eavesdroppers, but being in Lord Wellstone’s employ meant that from time to time she became privy to things that she would not otherwise have heard. It seemed that Miss Lawson far preferred to discuss business and his various accounts, rather than her feelings; she was more interested in his holdings than his heart.
Penny sighed. If Miss Lawson would have taken the highly unusual step of asking Penny her opinion, she would have saved herself a bit of time and no small amount of frustration. There was one thing that Penny was sure of after working in Lord Wellstone’s home for these five years: he would reject Miss Lawson just as he had the others.
The women who pursued him were generally attractive, with names that conjured thoughts of titles and estates, and with faces that conjured thoughts equally alluring to the masculine character. In the world of business, any one of them would have been an eminently practical merger, and he might have been somewhat happy with the match. His sense of honor, however, meant that he wouldn’t permit a lady to marry a man who was less than entirely devoted to her. Lord Wellstone was almost too good for his own good.
She paused to look over at David, who appe
ared to be trying to free a bit of steak from his back teeth, using his index finger. No, there was not much in common between Lord Wellstone and most men. Especially this one.
Polly let out a long sigh, and when Melanie glanced across the table, she saw her aunt’s brow wrinkle as if in consternation.
“What’s wrong, Polly?”
Polly rubbed her forehead. “I’ve been feeling a little run down this afternoon,” Polly said. “It’s probably nothing.”
While Lord Wellstone and Miss Lawson were out walking on the east lawn, enjoying the morning breeze, Penny was tidying up the study. Lord Wellstone’s habit was to take his breakfast there, surrounded by his letters and ledgers. The staff said that while his wife was alive, he had taken every breakfast with her and that business had been the furthest thing from his mind. It was hard to imagine that now.
As she was gathering the dishes and silverware atop a tray, Penny accidentally dropped a spoon, which bounced on the thick carpeting and ended up under the desk. She was on her hands and knees searching for it when she heard footsteps in the hall, and then the familiar strong click of the study doors.
“Miss Lawson,” began Lord Wellstone.
“Call me Virginia. We’re certainly close enough to speak to each other in a more familiar fashion, wouldn’t you say?”
Penny felt her blood rushing in her veins. If she were to emerge from underneath the desk now, it would look odd, to say the least. She instead remained there, crouching like a gargoyle on a church wall, quiet and still.
“In fact, that’s a matter I wanted to discuss with you,” he said. He cleared his throat, then pressed on. “Miss Lawson—Virginia—this courtship cannot continue.”
She took in a sharp breath. “Reeve, surely you don’t mean that,” she said.
