by Karen Kirst
She nodded, grateful for the interruption. Now that Quinn was privy to her private struggles, she felt exposed and vulnerable. It was not a comfortable feeling.
The delivery was a large one. The driver had left the larger town of Maryville later than expected. Even with his help, unloading and sorting everything would take several hours. Quinn immediately cleared out the card players, closing the store several minutes early and paid a young boy to take a message to Nicole’s mother letting her know she’d be late and he would see her home. He’d promised to treat her to supper at Plum’s when they’d finished. Nicole wasn’t sure she wished to dine alone with him, however. He couldn’t know how an outing like that could be misconstrued. At least at the Independence Day picnic, they’d be surrounded by her family.
It was nearing eight o’clock when she and Quinn put the last of the perishables in the springhouse. Her arms and upper back muscles ached, as did her feet, and hunger gnawed at her. The ham, bread and palm-size portion of strawberries she’d had for lunch seemed very long ago.
Unable to stand to his full height in the small, squat building, Quinn hung a slab of dried beef from the low-slung rafters. “That’s the last of it. Are you ready to head over to the café?”
Nicole shoved the last crock into the corner. Hunger drove her answer. “More than ready.”
“I hope chicken and dumplings is on the menu,” he said, and grinned.
She’d never stopped to think what he did for meals. No doubt in Boston, he’d had all his meals served to him. “You don’t know how to cook, do you?”
“I can manage decent coffee.”
Careful not to bump into the ham hanging nearby, she straightened. “Did your family employ a French chef to prepare extravagant meals?”
His low chuckle rippled over her skin, raising goose bumps that had nothing to do with the river-water-cooled air. “Justin is from South Carolina, actually. But yes, he and his assistants do prepare mouthwatering meals for us.”
“I suppose you lived in a grand mansion.”
“Exceedingly grand.” He didn’t bother denying it. “Spacious, tastefully appointed rooms, priceless art, vast gardens with pathways and fountains.” Cocking his head, he brought his brows together. “You would have no trouble fitting in there.”
“Because I don’t fit here?”
“You don’t seem to want to fit here.”
“You’re right. I don’t...hence the plans to leave.” Done with the conversation, Nicole gestured to the door. Outside, the sun had dipped beneath the mountain peaks and the gathering shadows made it difficult to see. “I’m going to faint soon if I don’t get something to eat.”
“Let’s get you fed, then.”
As he maneuvered a turn in the cramped space overflowing with crocks of milk and sausages, jarred vegetables and fruits and dried meat, the door slammed shut with a bang, enclosing them in darkness. Shocked, neither reacted as the sound of the lock clicking into place and muted male laughter drifted to them.
“Nicole—” Quinn sounded strange “—what just happened?”
“I think...” Battling growing alarm, she blinked to adjust her vision. “Someone’s played a dirty trick on us.”
Desperation fired through her. She tried to shove past him, forgetting about the narrow opening running smack-dab in the middle of the puncheon floor, rigged to allow the constantly flowing river beneath to cool the interior. Gasping, she threw out her arms to try to regain her balance as icy-cold water seeped into her boots and drenched the bottom of her skirts and undergarments.
Quinn’s hands closed over her waist, steadying her. He helped her up. In the darkness, she watched his shadowed outline crouch down, and suddenly his fingers were probing her ankles through the leather boots before skimming up to her calves.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.” The gentle touch heated her chilled, wet skin, and the thread of concern lacing his husky voice warmed her insides. “You can stop now, Quinn. I’m fine.”
Sighing, he slowly stood.
“We’re stuck in here, aren’t we?”
“Until someone misses us, yes.”
Quinn went and pushed against the door. It didn’t budge. The walls were made of river rock, which meant yelling for help wasn’t likely to do them much good. “Your mother will worry when you don’t return home. She’ll send someone to search for us.”
How long would it take for someone to find them? What if it took until morning?
Another shudder rippled through her. She refused to consider the potential for disaster.
“Are pranks such as these commonplace?”
“Commonplace, no. But they aren’t unheard-of. Sometimes boys get bored.”
His eyes gleamed in the darkness. “Is that who you believe the culprits are? Kids looking for a thrill?”
She bent to wring the excess water from her skirts. “I think there’s a good chance it was Kenneth. He doesn’t take confrontation lightly. Whatever you said to them might’ve set him on the idea of retaliation.”
“Caleb and his brothers strike me as overprotective types. They haven’t defended you against them?”
A dry laugh escaped. “Kenneth knows better than to bother me when my cousins are around.”
Pushing off the door, Quinn edged nearer. “Why did you not tell them?”
“Like I said, I can handle whatever he dishes out.”
While he didn’t answer, she sensed he wasn’t thrilled with her response. He slowly surveyed their surroundings. “I remember seeing a lamp over here.” She heard glass clinking as he gingerly explored the springhouse’s single shelf. He rummaged around until he found a match. The flame cast his face in eerie shadow. When the lamp was lit, he began to search the space.
“What are you looking for?”
“Supper.”
Nicole couldn’t summon the energy to help him. Weakness had invaded her body, her wet clothing sticking to her skin and making the temperature feel colder than it actually was. Of course, the ice blocks packed in straw lining the rear wall kept the air cool. Quinn whipped out his pocketknife and, kneeling at the floor opening, rinsed it in the river water. Then he located several cheese wheels and carved out wedges for them both. Next, he attacked a ham in the far corner.
Coming over to her, his lips compressed as he studied her face. “You should sit down.”
All too happy to do as he suggested, she grimaced as the rock wall she leaned against leached more coldness into her back. While Nicole ate, Quinn dipped out milk into a tin cup he’d discovered on the shelf.
Lowering himself onto the space beside her, he held the cup out and nodded at the humble snack in her lap. “I know it doesn’t compare to the café food, but it will hold us until we’re rescued.”
She took a generous sip of milk. “It’s fine. My cooking skills leave much to be desired,” she admitted. “When I’m on my own for meals, this is similar to what I’d fix for myself. Needlework is the only thing I excel at.”
She tried not to fidget as he studied her outfit with a critical eye. Since free floor space was limited, he sat close enough that their shoulders pressed together.
“You are an excellent seamstress. Tilly would be thrilled to wear your creations.”
She found that difficult to believe. His sister had access to the finest clothing money could buy. Unable to contain her curiosity, she said, “What is she like? And your brother. What’s his name?”
Balancing his forearms on his bent knees, he rested his head against the wall and smiled fondly. “Tilly is a spirited, good-natured princess. She’s a whiz at the piano and harp, and she loves horses. Oh, and she has my father wrapped around her little finger. Trevor is eighteen. Athletic. Popular. And keen on proving himself to the world...my father most of all.”
“
So he’s like you.”
Swallowing a bite of ham, he chuckled. “Yes, I suppose he is.”
“It must be hard on him,” she mused, thinking of her own older sisters, “to live in your shadow.”
“Trevor and I have a good relationship. He’s his own person.”
Nicole wondered if that was truly the case or if, like her, his brother kept his true feelings hidden. “You must miss them.”
“More than I could’ve imagined.” He sighed. “As soon as I purchase some land and have a house built, I’ll invite them for an extended visit. The banker told me about some available property behind the church. I’m going to look at it tomorrow.”
“Are you absolutely certain this is where you want to settle? Once the novelty wears off, you might regret leaving Boston.”
“This is my dream, Nicole. Like you have a dream, remember?” He nudged her shoulder with his own. “Like me, you’ll leave your family behind to start fresh somewhere else. You’ll be in a new place, surrounded by strangers and confronted with obstacles you didn’t anticipate and aren’t prepared for, but because it’s your dream, you won’t allow those things to distract you from your goal.”
“You’re right. I won’t.” Taking a final sip, she handed him the cup. “I have another theory about who could be behind this prank.”
“Tell me.”
“Not everyone is happy with the new ownership. It could be someone trying to send you a message.”
He slowly nodded. “And, unfortunately, you got caught in the cross fire.”
Chapter Nine
“Would you smack me if I put my arm around you?”
Nicole looked at him aghast. “Why would you want to do that?”
Quinn had held off asking as long as he could. “Because you haven’t stopped shivering since your dunking. I can practically hear your teeth clicking together.”
To him, the springhouse was cool, the constant flow of water pulsing moist air through the space. Because of her wet stockings and skirts, the temperature had to feel lower to her.
When she didn’t respond for long moments, he tacked on, “If I hadn’t left my suit jacket inside, I would offer you that.”
“I, uh, suppose it couldn’t hurt.”
He couldn’t help laughing. “Duchess, you do wonders for a man’s self-esteem.”
Lifting his arm, he settled it around her slender shoulders and tucked her against his side. A wave of protectiveness washed over him, catching him unawares.
“Let’s not forget I am your employee.” She remained stiff, unyielding, as if his nearness was distasteful. “Pet names are not appropriate.”
“I am not likely to forget,” he intoned. “Just for fun, what pet name would you give me? Honey? Sugar? Lemon drop?”
“You are impossible.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Below her short sleeve, her exposed arm had become chilled. Bringing up his free hand, he lightly rubbed the skin. With a deep shudder, Nicole finally relaxed into him, seeking out and taking advantage of his heat. It felt an awful lot like a victory of some sort...her trusting him.
Now that she was completely within the circle of his arms, Quinn fought a sensation of light-headedness. To ground himself, he focused on the way her silken curls tickled his cheek. Her refreshing floral scent. The contrast of her soft curves to his hard strength. Nicole may exude a frosty exterior, but she didn’t feel invincible or untouchable. Maybe it was the memory of her stilted revelation, the childhood pain that had pursued her into adulthood endowing him with this insight.
The longer he held her, the longer he wanted to hold her. His hand growing tired, he settled it atop hers on her lap.
She stiffened. Quinn immediately removed his hand. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“If they try and force us to marry—”
“Whoa. What?” Pulling away from her, he squinted in the dim light. “Enlighten me as to what you are referring.”
“I guess you haven’t heard about Caleb and Rebecca’s reasons for marrying,” she huffed. “Didn’t I warn you small-town life isn’t rosy-hued perfection?”
“Caleb and Rebecca adore each other.”
“It wasn’t always that way. They would never have married if she hadn’t spent a week nursing him to health with no one but her thirteen-year-old sister for company. Because they were unchaperoned, the town leaders pressured them to marry. To restore their reputations.”
Quinn heard the disgust in her voice. “Why would anyone try and force us?”
“If we’re stuck here the entire night alone, people will assume the worst.”
Reaching up, he massaged his throbbing temples. Questions about his moral character was the last thing he needed. “Unfortunately, this sort of thing doesn’t only happen in small towns. I’ve heard about a couple of instances back home where determined debutantes tricked eligible bachelors into similar situations.”
With a shiver, she crossed her arms over her middle. “I don’t care what anyone says, I’m not marrying you or anyone else. Nothing is going to stop me from achieving my dream.”
Given her sister’s intimation that she’d delayed the move to Knoxville, the vehemence of her words surprised him. “If that’s the case, why didn’t you leave months ago?”
She sucked in a startled breath.
“Are you sure this desperation to leave isn’t a simple case of you running from your family?” he prompted. “Your reputation?”
Expression turning frigid, she scooted as far away from him as possible. “My reasons are really none of your business, Quinn. You forget that we’re boss and employee. Nothing more.”
Shifting around so that he was presented with her back, she hugged her knees to her chest and rested her head atop them.
Quinn buried his fingers in his hair, aware that his assistant was one of the few people on earth with the ability to upset his natural equanimity. The woman was not only unpredictable but as prickly as a porcupine. Any man fool enough to pursue her would wind up with scars to show for his efforts.
I won’t have to put up with her insolent attitude forever. It’s not that Nicole isn’t replaceable. I’ll find a suitable candidate to take her spot. Preferably male. Less drama.
As the minutes ticked by, the silence became increasingly awkward. Nicole hadn’t made a peep, and he wondered if she was dozing.
When his stomach growled an hour later, he got up to stretch his legs and pound on the door again. The paltry snack hadn’t appeased his appetite, and he couldn’t stop daydreaming about Mrs. Greene’s dumplings. The cold was starting to become bothersome, too. Fortunately for them, it wasn’t wintertime. They really would’ve had a problem on their hands then.
His fist began to sting from the constant pounding.
“You’re wasting your time.” Nicole’s somber voice reached him over the sound of rushing water. “No one can hear you.”
Quinn rested his forehead against the door, defeat a sour taste in his mouth. May as well accept they’d be spending the night here. If word got out, his hopes of ever gaining the townspeople’s trust and respect would be dashed. Especially if they didn’t fulfill expectations and marry.
Even with his back to her, he heard her shivering. A sigh built in his chest.
He pivoted to address the huddled form. “Look, I know you detest me, but I think for both our sakes you should let me hold you again.”
Half twisting, Nicole contemplated him with a shocked expression. She visibly swallowed. Reluctantly nodded. Moved to lean against the wall.
Tamping down rogue anticipation, he eased down beside her and gingerly looped his arm around her shoulders once again. She was colder than before. Would this prank end with her falling prey to illness?
When she w
rapped both arms about his waist and snuggled into his side, Quinn’s heart thumped out a dire warning. Sure, I’m lonely, but I can’t let her touch go to my head.
She lifted her face to lock gazes with him, and he fought the impulse to toy with her curls.
“You’re wrong, you know.”
Quinn’s brows lifted. “About?”
“I don’t detest you.”
Laughter erupted. She never failed to surprise him. “Glad to hear it, Duchess. Glad to hear it.”
* * *
Nicole sighed contentedly and snuggled closer to the warm chest cradling her. What a delicious dream she was having. Self-indulgent and lovely, too lovely to be real. Subconsciously she recognized she shouldn’t be enjoying her boss’s embrace.
Quinn. The springhouse.
Struggling to lift her heavy, gritty lids, the sensation of floating through the air startled her. She flailed out an arm. When she didn’t encounter the stone wall, she panicked.
Quinn’s hold tightened. “It’s all right. I’ve got you.”
At last her vision cleared, and she blinked up at twinkling, diamond-bright stars in the black sky above. “How did we get out? Wh-why are you carrying me?”
He flicked her a glance, long strides evening out as they topped the riverbank. “You might want to keep your voice down,” he murmured. “Unless you want someone to discover we spent half the night together.”
“I won’t let that happen,” a second male voice inserted.
Despite the fog of sleep yet lingering, she knew the owner without having to see his face.
“Caleb? What are you doing here?”
He kept pace with Quinn, and even from this angle she could see the controlled anger in his features.
“When you didn’t show, Aunt Alice sent the twins to our place. I came searching for you.”
“How did you know where to find us?”
“I’ve been looking for several hours. The springhouse was my last resort.”
