“I’m all right, now. Let me go,” she said, breathless as his grip tightened.
Ahead of them Amanda gained the porch, and after a quick swipe of her feet against the rug before the door, marched inside, alerting Katie that they were at home.
“Come on. In the house with you, Lin,” Nicholas told her, shifting her to his side, his arm firmly settling around her waist. Together they plunged ahead, scraping their feet on the porch steps, lest they track mud into the house.
On the porch, they looked at each other, and he was hard-pressed not to laugh aloud. Her bonnet was askew, her hair curling in corkscrews across her forehead, and two hairpins dangled from one long lock that had come apart from the chignon she’d arranged at her nape. “I’ve never known a woman so unruly,” he said finally, pressing his lips together to foil the amusement that begged release.
“Unruly?” Her eyes opened wide and an expression of sheer dismay pleated her forehead and pinched her mouth. “How can you say such a thing? I’m a lady, Mr. Garvey.”
“And I’m Nicholas, sweet.” He caught at the pins that were headed for the ground and held them between thumb and forefinger. “We have to get you put together or Katie will think I’ve been misbehaving.”
“Katie already does,” his housekeeper’s stern voice announced from the other side of the entryway. “Get on in here, the pair of you. Miss Lin, your dress is all wet.”
“I’ll change before dinner,” Lin said quickly, looking down to where damp spots dotted the green dress she’d chosen this morning. “I won’t be a minute.”
“Here are your hairpins,” Nicholas said gravely, holding out his hand where the two errant pins lay in the center of his palm. “You may need them.” His gaze traveled up her body, past the curves of waist and breast to settle with impish delight on the unruly curls that defied the assortment of pins she used daily to subdue them into place.
She snatched the pins from his hand with a barely audible thanks and sailed up the stairs, her skirts held high so that she would not trip on them.
“You manage to get under her skin on a regular basis, don’t you?” Katie asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. “You’re either besotted by the lady or trying to get rid of her. Haven’t figured out which it is yet.”
“Neither,” Nicholas answered. “She’s Amanda’s nursemaid and my guest. I’m in no hurry to have her leave.”
“It’s about as I figured then,” Katie said, turning to hasten back toward the kitchen.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Nicholas asked beneath his breath. Removing his suit coat, he hung it on the coat tree and headed for the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves to wash his hands. It would irritate Katie to have him invade her territory, and right now he couldn’t think of anything he’d rather do.
New York City
“He’s in Collins Creek, Texas, wherever that is. And the child is living in his house.” Vincent Preston spat out the words as if they soured the very tissues of his mouth. His mood was far from serene, a fact duly noted by the men before him. “Can I count on perfection in this little task?” he asked, his dark eyes piercing, his words harsh.
“We guarantee success, or you don’t pay a penny, Mr. Preston.” The largest of the pair was nicely dressed, but his eyes were cold, his face devoid of expression. His partner, a slender, dapper fellow, looked to be more of a gentleman, yet guile lit his eyes as he listened to the proceedings.
“I want the child, unharmed, or it’s no go. I don’t care what you have to do to get her to me.”
“What sort of a fella is this Garvey person?” the larger man asked.
“He’s a banker. Doesn’t sound like much opposition to me. But be aware that her nursemaid is in constant attendance. You may have to bring the woman along. It might be easier to handle the child if she has her nurse.” He leaned back in his chair and waved a hand dismissively. “The rest is up to you. I don’t want to know the details. I just want results.”
“You’ll have them, Mr. Preston.” With a quick look at his partner, Hal Simpson left the office, Dennis Blevins at his heels.
“This is a cinch,” Hal said in an undertone. “He’s pretty much given us a free hand.”
“We can always take the woman, too, and then if she gives us trouble, drop her off along the way.” Dennis offered it casually, but Hal’s eyes flashed with anger.
“I remember the last time we did a snatch and you ended up using a knife on the woman, and I had to dig the grave. You won’t be pulling that stunt on me again.”
“All right. All right,” Dennis said, placating his partner with a shrug. “We’ll settle for the child. For what he’s paying us, I’ll turn cartwheels in the town square while you snatch up the girl.”
Hal turned the full force of his dark, soulless gaze on the shorter man and his words were a threat. “For what he’s paying us, you’ll mind your p’s and q’s and do as you’re told.”
“Where the hell is Collins Creek?” Dennis grumbled as they walked out of the spacious lobby into the pedestrian traffic of Wall Street.
“You ever hear about maps?” Hal asked, sarcasm oozing from his words. “My guess would be we buy tickets at the railroad station, and then, when they call out the towns along the line in Texas, we listen hard for the place we’re heading.”
“And then what? Act like a couple of dandies in the middle of cow country? I think we need to change our clothes before we get off a train in some dusty little burg at the end of the line.”
Hal tossed him a look that resembled approval. “I knew you’d have a halfway intelligent thought in your head if I kept you around long enough. Just don’t ask me to ride a horse, you hear?” What might have passed as a laugh in another man came out sounding more like a sneer as he punched his partner in the shoulder. “We’ll make a stop once we get to Texas and buy some clothes that won’t give us away.”
“I used to ride horses back when I was a kid,” Dennis said. “It’s not hard to learn, once you put your mind to it, Hal. Besides, we might need to haul the kiddie off someway other than on a train.”
“We’ll hire a wagon,” Hal said. “I’d rather sit on a wagon seat than the back of a horse any day of the week.”
“Does this bird put his money on the line?” Dennis asked. “I worked for one fella who tried to gyp me when I brought him the goods he asked for.”
“He’s paying up front for our expenses,” Hal told him. “And Vincent Preston has too much to hide to pull any shenanigans with his employees.” His sneer emphasized the final word he spoke as the two men crossed the busy thoroughfare.
Chapter Six
“Do you think I’ll ever have a new mama?” Amanda asked. Her head was bent, as if she were intent on the ball she bounced, while one hand poised over the scattered metal jacks on the porch. And then she looked up, her gaze rising to meet Lin’s, and the ball fell from her fingers, scattering the playing pieces. “I’d like it if you could be my mama,” she whispered.
“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Lin said quietly. Her fingers pressed together and then entwined in her lap. “You may have to settle for having an uncle, Amanda. Even if he should ever get married, you won’t truly have a mother.”
“If he married you, I would,” the child said staunchly, looking up with cunning alive on her expressive features. “You’re already almost like a mama. And he could be a papa if he tried. I know he could. I think he likes me, anyway.”
“You’re a very likeable little girl,” Lin said quickly. “I don’t know why anyone wouldn’t like you. And Nicholas is your uncle, so he surely thinks you’re a very special person.”
“I think he likes you, too, Linnie.” Amanda made a production of gathering the jacks into a pile. “I think I’ll practice haystacks for a while. That’s a lot easier than when they’re scattered all over the place.” She smiled brightly. “Maybe you and my uncle Nicholas could get married.”
“I don’t think your uncle is planning on marriage
,” Lin told her quietly. “And at any rate, it isn’t something you need to worry about. He’s given you a lovely home, and he’s planning on taking care of you.”
“Well, I think it’d be a good idea,” the little girl said stubbornly, a determined look drawing her brows down. “Maybe I’ll ask him.”
“You will not.” There was no room for doubt as Lin spoke the words. “Children have no business interfering in adult matters, Amanda. And your uncle’s plans for his future are not your concern.”
Amanda shrugged, bouncing the ball again as she attempted to gather up the pile of jacks into her right hand. And then a grin lit her features as she caught the ball with her left hand. “See. I can do it if I use both hands, Linnie.”
Lin laughed, as if she were unable to resist the child’s shenanigans. “I think we’d better switch to jumping rope,” she said. “I’m afraid you’ll beat me at this game.”
“If I’m very good, will you think about being my mama? I really need one,” Amanda whispered mournfully.
Behind them, Nicholas watched from the doorway, half-hidden in the shadows of the foyer. Amanda’s eyes held a vulnerability he ached for, and he inhaled sharply as he sensed the sadness that prompted the plea. “I really need a mama,” Amanda said softly, repeating the cry of her heart.
His hands clenched at the child’s words and he thrust them into his pockets. She hadn’t asked for a new papa, he noted wryly. But that was to be expected. A little girl’s mainstay in life was her mother. And that was as it should be. Amanda’s plea spoke well for Irene Carmichael.
At least one of us made a success of parenthood. The thought echoed in his mind, even as he wondered about his sister. He’d lost her before he’d even known of her existence, and the only tie he would ever have to the woman was the child before him. If there had been other siblings in the unusual family they’d been a part of, Irene might have made other arrangements for her child. But Nicholas was her only choice.
At least Irene had had the opportunity to have a family of her own, he thought, his eyes intent on the two females gracing the wide boards of his front porch. And now he had the privilege—although responsibility might be the better word—of raising Amanda. It would take a woman living under his roof to provide the nurturing the girl needed. And for now, that area was covered by Lin’s presence.
A mother for Amanda might be another thing altogether.
He’d thought not to marry, until Patience came along, and he’d been mostly tempted by the idea of having her as his hostess, gracing his table. By virtue of her position as his wife, he’d expected to extend her presence to his bedroom. He grinned knowingly as he considered those circumstances. She’d probably have a fit if her hair were mussed or her clothing wrinkled by his hand. Not to mention the perfection of the makeup that enhanced her face.
No, making love to Patience would require a deft hand. He’d never acquired the talent of smoothing feathers, and he feared Patience would require more pacifying than he was capable of giving.
On the other hand, Lin had the rare knack of making him comfortable in her presence. And she seemed not to place more emphasis than was required at her daily toilet. More often than not, he found her repairing damage to her person, smoothing her wrinkled clothing or recapturing flyaway curls in an effort to tame her luxurious, independent tresses.
Even now, as she sat on the porch beside Amanda, her dress was wrinkled from sitting in the swing and rumpled from playing on the grass. Her hair curled against her nape, tendrils escaping from the loose knot she’d pinned high on her crown. He felt a smile curve his lips as he watched her, her head bent as long, elegant fingers scooped the jacks into her palm. The ball bounced high and she snatched it midair as Amanda chuckled in glee, then propped her chin in one hand.
“I don’t know how you do that so good, Linnie,” Amanda cried, her mouth forming a small pout. “I can’t make my hand big enough to pick up more than three at a time, ’cause if I do, then the ball won’t stay put.”
“It’s easier to play when your hands are as large as mine,” Lin said soothingly. “And you have to bounce the ball high enough to give you time to pick up the jacks, sweetie.” She bent to Amanda and dropped a quick kiss against the child’s cheek. “Here,” she said, handing off the ball, “try it again.”
Nicholas moved, shifting his position, the better to see, and the slight sound of his boot against the floor caught Lin’s attention. She glanced up, then back over her shoulder. “Did you want to play, too?” she asked, shooting him a questioning look. “I didn’t know you were there.”
“No, I think my talent lies in watching. Amanda thinks her fingers are too small, and I know mine are too big.” He pushed the screen door open and stepped onto the porch. “Yours, on the other hand, seem to be just right.”
He walked past them to where the swing hung and settled himself on the seat. Lin looked up and he caught a wary light in the depths of soft brown eyes. She allowed her gaze to linger a bit on his face, perhaps his mouth, he thought. And then it slid with approval to touch his arms, where his rolled-up shirtsleeves exposed tanned skin to her view. Even as he watched, her eyelids drooped a bit, and her tongue touched her upper lip in a hesitant movement.
“Your hands are just fine,” she said quietly. “I’m sure they’d handle—” Her words broke off as if she had only just become aware of them being spoken aloud, and her eyes opened fully, then blinked as she inhaled sharply.
She rose, an awkward movement, smoothing her skirts, and he grinned, aware of what her next movement would be, even before her hands rose to tuck wayward wisps of hair into place with a set of combs on either side of her head. So well he’d come to know her in such a short time. Suddenly, the day seemed brighter, the sunshine warmer, the birdsong from his yard more sweet, and he was struck by a sense of belonging he’d never known in his life.
“Come sit with me, Lin.” It was less than an order, more than a request, and she glanced at him, her hands twitching at her waistline as she tugged her bodice into place. The action accented the firm, lush lines of her bosom, and it was there his gaze became firmly fixed. She was as feminine as any creature he’d ever laid eyes on. And more appealing than any other he’d taken note of.
She stepped to the swing and turned, settling gracefully beside him. Her feet barely touched the porch, and beside him, she seemed a delicate woman, yet at the same time, totally, profusely strong—an independent creature. A paradox, indeed.
“Did you want to talk to me?” Her eyes still on Amanda, she spoke the query politely, her hands clasped loosely in her lap, and had he not known her better, he might have thought her relaxed and unaware of his proximity.
Fortunately, he knew her better, recognized the quick intake of breath that produced a flutter at her throat, noted the flush she could not control that painted her cheeks and throat with a bloom not unlike a ripe, blushing peach. Her coloring was creamy, her hair a vibrant auburn, and he wondered how he could not have noticed her rare beauty at first glance. That day in his office, when she’d appeared at his door and he’d refused her the courtesy of taking her outstretched hand.
“I’ve never fully apologized for my rudeness the day we met,” he said, speaking aloud his thoughts.
She blinked and looked up at him in surprise. “You were rude?” And then her teeth touched one side of her bottom lip as if she recalled the event. “Yes, you were.” She nodded. “I shocked you, showing up that way, and you were taken aback. I doubt you’d have been discourteous had you been better prepared for our appearance.”
“Do you always make excuses for others, Lin? Or just me?”
Her smile widened as she turned the full force of dark eyes in his direction. “I try to be fair, Nicholas. You didn’t purposely set out to be…unkind. And you recovered nicely, as I recall.”
“Thank you,” he answered, his voice solemn, feeling that she had somehow pronounced him a gentleman, even as she recognized his faults. “I hope you’ve be
en comfortable here.”
She lifted a brow and he recognized the gesture, knew a retort would be heading in his direction momentarily. “Most of the time,” she allowed. “My bedroom is cozy, my bed comfortable, the accommodations spacious.”
“And the company you keep?”
“Usually gracious. On occasion…somewhat demanding.”
“More than you feel comfortable with?” The softly uttered exchange caught Amanda’s attention and she looked up at them, a question alive in her innocent gaze.
Lin smiled at her reassuringly as she offered Nicholas a subtle warning. “If I find it too difficult to cope with, I’m sure I can locate the front door.
“I wouldn’t like that, Lin,” he said, an unspoken threat holding her immobile.
And yet, as she turned her head to meet his gaze head-on, he noted a determination on her face that did not surprise him. “You don’t frighten me,” she whispered.
“I never intended to.”
“What, then?”
“Linnie?” Amanda rose from the porch and extended her hand. “I don’t like it when you say things I can’t figure out.” Her small face was troubled, and Nicholas felt a pang of regret that he’d caused the child distress.
“Linnie is only scolding me a bit,” he whispered, leaning close to gather Amanda in his arms. Lifting her to settle on his lap, he set the swing into motion, his hands holding her waist as her feet rested on the wooden seat beside him.
“Did you do something bad?” she asked earnestly, peering up into his face.
“I didn’t think so, but sometimes ladies and gentlemen don’t agree on such things.”
“I remember when my mama and papa had a fuss one day, and then my papa just picked my mama right up in the air and she hollered at him to put her down….” Her voice trailed off as she glanced up at Lin. “My papa kissed mama and she hugged him real tight.” Her eyes took on a considering look.
“Would that work with you and my uncle Nicholas, Linnie?”
Tempting a Texan Page 9
