Tempting a Texan Read online

  She’d been given the grand tour and decreed the house lovely, and, even more important, comfortable. The housekeeper’s bright eyes were avid with curiosity and she seemed determined to make Carlinda welcome. “I’m sure Mr. Nicholas will be home for dinner,” Katie said cheerfully, her cloth moving rapidly as she dusted the bannister.

  Her hair, once flame-red, if Carlinda knew anything about such things, had now settled into a hazy color of grey over auburn. As might her own one day, she thought. A wide smile on Katie’s lips sparkled with goodwill and her feet moved smartly as she made her way through the work inherent in keeping such a large home clean and polished to within an inch of its life. Carlinda hovered in her wake, feeling useless with nothing to accomplish.

  It seemed a walk was in order, and she pressed a dress from her valise and one for Amanda for the occasion. “Are you certain you don’t need any help?” Carlinda asked for the second time, hesitating by the front door. Her charge tugged impatiently at her fingers, but she held back, guilt pushing her into the offer she made.

  Katie only shook her head. “No, ma’am. You go on ahead and take the wee one out for a walk. She needs to get some exercise. Young’uns need fresh air and lots of it. Makes them healthy to breathe the morning air, it does.”

  Reluctantly, Carlinda nodded and opened the heavy door. Leaded glass in long panes almost the length of its frame glittered in the sunlight, and she turned back to admire them as Amanda scampered across the porch.

  “I’ll just leave it open,” Katie said, watching from the threshold. “You go on now and enjoy your stroll.”

  Amanda was at the gate already, apparently puzzled by the latch, and Carlinda touched it, allowing the spring to stretch and the gate to open. Then she reached her hand for the child to grasp, and was given a dour look in silent reply.

  “Young ladies don’t run and jump along a public thoroughfare,” she reminded Amanda. “We walk properly, without causing the dust to rise and coat our shoes.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Amanda answered dutifully, and yet it was obvious the little girl longed to run ahead and explore the limits of the small town they’d come to.

  Ahead was a square in the center of town, an inviting place Carlinda had taken note of yesterday morning. On either side, east and west, the road stretched for a short distance, with stores and places of business lining its edges, sidewalks forming a neat line in front of the establishments. Women walked from one shop to another, their steps brisk as they performed what seemed a daily ritual, providing for their families. Two elderly men had staked a claim on a bench before the hardware store, exchanging greetings with the ladies who passed by.

  In the midst of the square trees grew and three benches sat, empty in the morning sun. Carlinda wished that one of them was beneath the shade of a tree. She would surely freckle, she thought, if she were subjected much longer to the warmth of the spring sunlight. Sighing, she settled on a wooden seat, almost in the center of the square, and watched as Amanda approached another child at her side.

  The two little girls talked for a moment, then Amanda turned, reaching for the girl’s hand to bring her along as she approached her nursemaid. “This is Sally,” Amanda said importantly. “She’s going to be my new friend. Her mama’s at the store.”

  And wasn’t it easy for a child to determine the existence of a friendship so quickly, Carlinda thought wistfully. So far removed from the adult skirmishes that took place before a friendship could be formed between two women. She thought of the battle lines that had been drawn the evening before when she’d gone head to head with the man whose hospitality she’d accepted. A blush covered her cheeks as she recalled her quick animosity.

  “Hello, Sally,” she said, her response to the child automatic. And then she glanced at Amanda. “Don’t go out of the square,” she said quietly. “I’ll just sit here and watch.”

  The little girls skipped off, then settled under one of the trees, carefully tugging their skirts to cover short legs, Amanda looking up for Carlinda’s approval. With a smile and nod, it was bestowed, and the child turned aside. The murmur of their voices and the soft sound of laughter lulled her as Carlinda basked beneath the sun’s rays. She’d not lost herself in such a lazy morning in a very long time, and her eyes closed as she allowed herself to drift in a slumberous state.

  A shadow fell over her and she blinked, looking up quickly. Nicholas stood before her, his bulk shading her from the sun and she lifted a hand to her brow as she gazed up at him. “We’re enjoying the town square,” she said, then blushed anew as he smiled.

  “I’m glad to see you out and about. I hope I didn’t interrupt your daydreaming, but I wouldn’t want you to be sunburned. I see you forgot your bonnet.”

  Her eyes widened as she lifted her hand higher, as if she’d only now noticed its absence. “So I did. I suppose because I didn’t plan on walking this far. Amanda and I were talking and I didn’t realize…” Her words trailed off as she took note of his amusement. “You’re laughing at me,” she said accusingly.

  He shook his head. “Indeed, not,” he murmured, denying her claim. “I’m enjoying your smile and wishing I had a few hours to sit here with you and share your warmth.”

  “I’m only borrowing it from the sun,” she said. “I’m sure there’s enough for both of us.” Aware suddenly of her easy acceptance of his presence, she inhaled sharply, unwilling to so quickly bow to his appeal. “On the other hand, perhaps I’d better take Amanda back to the house. It must be nearing dinnertime and Katie may need a hand.”

  “She’s remarkably efficient,” he told her, sitting beside her, doffing his hat as he lifted one booted foot to rest it against his other knee. The wide-brimmed hat found a place on the park bench between them, and he looked toward the children.

  “Amanda seems to have found a friend.” His tone was amused once more.

  “Sally.” Carlinda spoke the name, and smiled. “She’s needed youngsters to play with. Sally’s mother is in the general store, and I’m sure the girls are hoping she’ll take her time. They seem to be kindred souls. It bodes well for her future, I think.”

  “Her future?” She glanced at him as he lifted a brow and a quizzical expression touched his face. “With me?”

  “Certainly. Where else would I mean? She’ll need to accustom herself to living in this town, and in your home.”

  “This hasn’t been worked out to my satisfaction yet,” he told her, his eyes seeking Amanda once more. “We’ll need some time to come to an agreement, I think.”

  “Time?” She refused to look at him, her heart in her throat as she spoke the word that had assumed threatening proportions. “How much time? And what sort of an agreement are you speaking of?”

  He scanned her, that lazy, impudent appraisal she’d endured only yesterday. Was it only yesterday she’d met the man? And now his gaze lifted to mesh with hers. “Time? As long as it takes,” he said quietly. “The agreement we’ll discuss another time.”

  And then he rose and placed his hat upon his head, nodding as he took his leave. “I’ll be home for dinner. Tell Katie to have it ready by one, please.”

  Carlinda watched as he walked off. Strode was a better word, she decided, admiring his height, the gleam of dark hair touching his collar. He wore his clothing as if it had been tailored to his tall frame, his trousers unpleated and close-fitting against his legs. And the width of shoulders better suited to a lumberjack tested the fabric of his suit coat.

  She was besotted. There was no other word for it. The man was beautiful, a word she was certain he would scoff at should it be spoken in his hearing, but she could think of none other to better describe him. A feeling of desolation swept through her as she reflected on the time to come when she must leave this town, the day when she would step on board the train and turn her back on Nicholas Garvey.

  She slumped back on the bench and lifted a hand to consult her watch. It hung on a golden chain against the front of her dress and she read the hand
s through a mist she could not explain. After noon already. She would barely have time to walk home with Amanda and give Nicholas’s message to Katie.

  Home. The single word rang through her head as though she’d spoken it aloud. It was not her home. Would never be a home for her to live in and enjoy. For Carlinda Donnelly, the future stretched ahead like a long blank road. And only in her dreams could she envision such a thing as the large, white house where Nicholas Garvey hung his hat as a home in which she might dwell.

  She rose slowly and looked about for the little girls, aware that she’d almost forgotten their existence for a few moments. They played quietly beneath a tree only yards away, and Carlinda spoke Amanda’s name, catching her attention.

  “Do we have to leave already?” she asked, her lip drawing down into a pout.

  “We’ll come back tomorrow,” Carlinda promised. “Perhaps Sally can come to visit later today,” she offered, willing to use bribery if need be.

  Sally’s frown brightened and she nodded quickly. “I’ll ask my mama,” she said, and danced off toward the other side of the park, then turned to walk backward, waving a small hand in a gesture of goodbye as she made her way to the general store.

  “Let’s walk real quick so we can eat dinner,” Amanda urged, fast-stepping as she hastened back toward Nicholas’s home. “Then maybe Sally will come to visit.”

  “We have to wait for Mr. Garvey to come home first before we eat,” Carlinda reminded her.

  “Maybe he’ll hurry,” Amanda said, reaching for her nursemaid’s hand and skipping by her side. “Sally’s mama is shopping, but she’ll ask her on the way home.”

  Nicholas did make haste, it seemed, for barely had they arrived inside the front door and delivered the message when his tall presence came through the front gate.

  “Land sakes, here’s Mr. Nicholas now,” Katie said, bustling down the hallway toward the kitchen. “I’ll have the food on in ten minutes,” she called back brightly.

  “Let’s go wash up,” Carlinda told her charge, her step light as she climbed the stairs before the man should make his way up the walk and across the porch. For some reason, she felt the need of a few minutes alone, to wash her face and brush her hair into place. To somehow get her thoughts in order before she must once more meet him face-to-face and be assailed by the emotion that filled her.

  “You’ve only known him a day,” she told herself firmly, looking into the mirror over her dressing table just minutes later. She’d washed Amanda first, sent her down to the kitchen and gone on to her own room. Now she faced her image, noting the trembling lips, the glittering eyes and the hair that would not be contained neatly, no matter how hard she tried to tame its curls.

  “He’s only a man, and he probably has women waiting in line to seek his company.” She lifted a hand to brush her hair back, then dampened it with a bit of water, hoping against hope it would miraculously behave and turn orderly before her very eyes. It was no use. The ringlets hung against her temple once more, and from the hastily formed bun she’d managed to subdue with an assortment of pins only hours ago, bits and pieces of auburn hair had escaped to curl down, touching her shoulders despite all her urging and pinning it in place.

  “I can’t do much more,” she whispered, stepping back, the better to assess her appearance. Her dress was suitable, neat and clean, and her shoes wore only a bit of dust across the toes, reminding her of the quick walk back from town. She bent to brush at them with her handkerchief and heard a sound from behind her, as a masculine voice muttered a soft word, and then Nicholas distinctly cleared his throat.

  “I beg your pardon, ma’am,” he said gravely. “I came up to see if you were ready for dinner. I didn’t mean to invade your privacy.”

  She turned quickly, aware that her cheeks were flushed, a condition she seemed to find herself in today, no matter where she was or what she was doing. He’d seen her, watched her bend to brush at her shoes, noted her bottom in the air as she leaned forward. Probably her dress had risen in the back. What if he’d seen her stockings?

  She stiffened her spine, resolute in her determination not to be embarrassed any more than she already was, and decided to ignore any what-ifs that flooded her mind.

  “Yes, I’m ready,” she said quietly, and walked toward him.

  Chapter Three

  As if he’d never before seen the back of a woman’s lower limbs and ankles, Nicholas found himself obsessed over the next days by the vision of Carlinda’s slender underpinnings. The remembrance invaded his dreams, haunted his waking hours, even managing to insinuate itself into his thoughts as he discussed a loan with Sam Ferguson two days later.

  He felt like an errant schoolboy, and that thought did nothing to elevate his ego. Sam sat across his desk, hat in hand as he enumerated the reasons for needing two hundred dollars. It was a considerable sum, one which should have required Nicholas’s full attention, and he bent his mind to the matter.

  “We’ll take a look at your account here,” he said quietly, leafing through the paperwork before him. “I see no reason to deny you the loan, Sam. Your business is thriving. Adding on additional space for feed and supplies makes sense to me.” He looked up and smiled at the anxious livery stable owner. “Give me half an hour and things should be in order.”

  Sam’s wide shoulders fit neatly through the doorway Nicholas noted as the man left his office. The papers before him were a blur, but he straightened them and then initialed each of the three pages. “Thomas,” he called, aware that his clerk hovered nearby. He held the papers out as the young man appeared in the doorway. “Take care of this for Mr. Ferguson, will you?”

  “Certainly, sir.” Thomas was efficient, his expression bland, but his eagerness to please was a point in his favor, Nicholas decided. “There is a young lady to see you, sir,” he said now, a faint flush apparent as he cut his eyes to the left side of the door.

  Patience. He’d lay money his visitor was the very impatient Patience. He’d neglected her for the past three days, and he could pinpoint the exact moment his attention had strayed from her. Upon Carlinda’s arrival, his suit of Patience Filmore had come to a screeching halt. And stood no chance at all of resuming its previous pace.

  Now he sighed beneath his breath. “Send her in, Thomas.” Scooping up a stack of papers from his left, he spread them quickly before him and bent his head. Then he looked up as the dark-haired beauty halted before his desk.

  “Good morning,” he said, coaxing his voice into a welcoming note. “What can I do for you today?”

  Her mouth twisted a bit and she hesitated, as if ruing her decision to approach him. “I suppose you can explain why you haven’t been at my front door for the past several evenings.” Her eyes were suitably lowered, as if she were embarrassed by her own inquiry. Nicholas was not fooled. One thing he’d come to admire about Patience was her forthrightness. If she wanted an answer, she asked for it. This pose of injured pride was just that, a pose, a transparent request for his attention and apology.

  “I have company in my home, Patience,” he said quietly. “It would be rude of me to abandon Miss Donnelly and my niece to themselves for the evening.”

  “Ah, yes. I heard rumors that you’ve discovered a long-lost relative. I would enjoy getting to know your niece,” she countered.

  “Well, I’m only beginning to do that myself,” he said, lifting a paper from those he’d strewn before him.

  Patience allowed her gaze to touch upon the delaying tactic. “I can see you’re very busy,” she said, and rising, touched her index finger to her cheek. “I really only dropped by to remind you of the party tomorrow night at the Millers’ home. I’ve told them we would attend.”

  Nicholas dropped the paper from his hand and looked up, his gaze ascending the lush figure of the woman before him. “You shouldn’t have done that, Patience. I don’t recall agreeing to that.”

  Her smile was cool. “Perhaps not, but we have become something of an item of late. People expect
us to arrive at such gatherings together. I’m sure you’re aware of that.” She took small steps, circling the side of his desk and approaching him with her hand outstretched. Long, slender fingers touched the sleeve of his suit coat and she smiled invitingly into his eyes. “Perhaps I misunderstood your interest in me, Nicholas.”

  He felt perspiration break out in a narrow line down his spine, and at the same time he was chilled and angered by the thought of being manipulated in such a way. His gaze dropped to where her hand lay against his arm and, for an instant, he felt her grip tighten, then relax, sliding from its place until her fingers held the strings of her reticule and he was set free from the contact.

  “Perhaps you misunderstood, or maybe I was at fault, even premature, in my interest in you, Patience.” Cruelty was not normally in his nature, but this must be brought to a halt.

  He thought he saw genuine surprise in her features as she looked up at him, and then it was masked and her smile became practiced and serene. “Well, we’ll see what the future holds, won’t we?” she said enigmatically.

  And wasn’t that the truth? He watched her leave, unimpressed by the same movement of hips he’d found fascinating only a week since. His smile was rueful, remembering again the sight of Carlinda’s stocking-clad calves and ankles. Indeed the memory was constantly at the surface of his mind, and he straightened the papers before him with precise movements as he attempted to erase his errant reaction to the woman.

  A glance at his pocket watch assured him he would not be amiss in leaving for home. The dinner hour was becoming increasingly important in his everyday scheme of things this week, and he would not insult Katie by making her put the meal on hold while she awaited his appearance at the table.

  The walk was short, his pace brisk, and he approached his home with an ear open to Amanda’s presence. The child was increasingly vocal; he’d noticed her laughter ringing out even early in the morning, her cheerful voice greeting him from the porch each afternoon when the bank closed and he hastened to make his way from town.