Lucky Penny
Page 37
Oh, how he wished he’d met her under other circumstances—that he could court her the way she needed to be courted. Damn. He felt like a kitten trapped in a burlap bag. And yet, when he looked at Daphne, he couldn’t bring himself to wish she didn’t exist. She’d become a joy in his life he’d never expected, and he loved her like the dickens. He just had to find a way to convince her mother that he’d come to love her as well.
Love. For years, it had been a mystery to David how grown men could act like fools over women. Now he finally understood it. When he looked into Brianna’s beautiful green eyes, his heart actually hurt. He yearned to cup her chin in his hand and taste that delectable mouth again. He wanted to hold her in his arms and hear her whimper with pleasure. He wished she would open up to him and share her innermost thoughts, her dreams, and her secrets. And he wanted to make more babies with her, too.
Despite the sexual tension between her and David, Brianna’s favorite time of day was in the evening when David came home from the marshal’s office. When she wasn’t in a rush to finish something for a customer, she’d taken to working after hours to update her own wardrobe. At the community social, she wanted to make a grand entrance in a fabulous gown to lure more customers into her shop. She sat in the rocker and did her fine stitchery by the light of the lantern.
“I can lend you the money to get this upstairs wired for electricity, you know,” David offered more than once.
Brianna’s answer was always the same. “I’m already in debt to you up to my eyebrows, David, and I don’t want to borrow anything more.”
“You’re my wife,” he would say.
Ah, but she wasn’t, not really. She was only his pretend wife. “I will wire the upstairs as soon as I can afford it,” she would reply. “I grew up with lanterns. I love the smell of the kerosene and the warm, cozy glow.”
The poor lighting strained her eyes, but in truth, half the time, instead of stitching, she watched David and Daphne at the table, playing games or doing homework. David managed to make everything fun and had Daphne giggling even as she labored to perfect her cursive and learn her arithmetic. Oh, how the child detested doing her numbers, a trait Brianna knew came from her. Moira had loved math, but Brianna had always detested it. The nuns professed that it was Moira’s thoughtful nature coming into play that made mathematics easy for her. Brianna was just the opposite, skipping steps in a problem, determined to do things her way. She’d been a dreamer, more proficient at art, languages, and sewing.
“Four plus four is—” David broke off and nibbled his pencil. “Hmm, seven?”
Daphne squealed and pushed at her father’s shoulder. “Nuh-uh, it’s eight.”
Somehow the laughter and nonsense never prevented Daphne from learning her lessons, and soon they’d moved on to her spelling test. David, of course, misspelled words, right and left, keeping Daphne in stitches.
“Money,” he said. “I know for a fact it’s spelled m-u-n-n-y.”
“No, it isn’t,” Daphne shouted. “It’s m-o-n-e-y!”
“That isn’t how you spelled it in your letters to me,” David argued. Leaning over the child’s shoulder, he said, “Hey, hold up, there. How come you’re spelling hour with an H?”
“Because that’s how it’s spelled.”
“In your letters, you spelled it o-u-r. How can you expect your papa to get his spelling right if you keep tricking me all the time?”
Working diligently on her scarlet gown for the social, sewing on one tiny seed pearl at a time, Brianna smothered a smile and shook her head. The man is impossible. It had become one of her most familiar mental refrains. But now she added a new one: He is also the most wonderful father on earth. When Brianna helped Daphne with her homework, she was all business, just as Sister Theresa had been. But David made it fun. He was a great tease who understood how difficult it was for an energetic little girl to sit still and study.
The realization took Brianna back in time to when she’d been the flighty, adventurous twin, always searching for a spark of excitement and the first to laugh until her sides ached. What had happened to that girl? Then she remembered Moira’s white face as she lay dying, the weak, almost undetectable whisper of her voice as she pleaded with Brianna to raise her daughter as her own. Brianna remembered in detail that day when she’d walked across town to report Daphne’s birth. En route, she’d sworn to abandon her flighty ways and be more like her angelic sister. I have a daughter now. The best legacy I can pass on to her is to teach her how wonderful her real mother was, a veritable saint on earth. In a twinkling, life for Brianna had become a job, and each night, she graded her performance.
Now she was what she’d aimed to become, a replica of her perfect twin. Oh, but how she yearned to join David and her daughter at the table. To be silly and giggle again. To participate in their games of nonsense. Sometimes she wanted it so badly that her limbs twitched and her fingers went stiff on the needle. David was bad for her, she decided. He made her want things she’d long since sworn to abandon. And deep down, Brianna feared that she could no longer tell herself she was merely falling in love with him. She’d already taken the plunge. She was so afraid he might glimpse the truth in her eyes that she had grown fearful of meeting his gaze.
Chapter Twenty
D
avid often caught Brianna grinning as she watched them at the table in the evenings, and he wondered what it was that held her back. Female nonsense, he guessed. He only knew that he saw yearning in her eyes that told him she wanted to engage with them. It saddened him that she chose work over having fun.
The days passed, and before David knew it, all of May was behind them. The month was a blur of happy memories for him, times with Daphne at his ranch or with his family, but his favorite ones were of long spring evenings with his wife and child in the apartment above the dress shop when a cozy intimacy filled the kitchen and only the sounds of their voices or his fiddle broke the silence. In the mornings, he usually cooked breakfast while Brianna prepared for work. Daphne’s favorite meal included flapjacks, which David made a show of flipping high into the air. One time, he even got a laugh out of Brianna when Sam took up sentry position near the stove to gobble up the pancakes David dropped. Life was good. It could have been even better if he and his wife had a real marriage, but even without physical closeness, he had never enjoyed a month so much.
He occasionally glimpsed Hazel Wright at a distance and marveled at what he’d ever seen in her. She was attractive enough, he supposed, but on her best day, she couldn’t hold a candle to Brianna. Though it went against his grain, David avoided encounters with the woman. She’d been unreasonable when he’d gone to her home and tried to speak with her. She had even struck his dog. Since then, when he’d seen her at a distance, he had detected nothing in her expression or demeanor to indicate that she’d had a change of heart. Fiery glares, clenched fists, and a rigidity in her posture that suggested barely controlled anger. If David bumped into her in a public place, he had no idea how she might behave or what outlandish accusations she might make. Despite the gossip that had circulated around town after David’s return with a wife and child, Brianna and Daphne were settling in nicely. He couldn’t risk a nasty scene that might make tongues wag again. The way David saw it, he had tried to mend his fences with Hazel, she’d acted like a wild woman, and he owed her nothing more.
David’s birthday fell on a Tuesday during the final week of school. Even though Little Joe’s celebration would be on Saturday, Dory insisted that there had to be two separate parties. David’s took place in the evening at Ace and Caitlin’s place so Brianna could attend. David sensed that she was reluctant to go. But she put a bright face on it, engaged in the festivities, and even surprised him with a present—a blue shirt she’d made for him on the sly. It was a perfect fit and the color matched his eyes.
As David tried it on, he said, “Something this nice should be worn on special occasions. I think I’ll save it for the social.”
Brianna was excited when Friday of that week finally came because it marked the end of the school year. Normally when David went to the ranch over the weekends, Daphne accompanied him because she had no classes on Saturday or Sunday. Now that summer had arrived, Brianna hoped that the child would stay in town with her over the weekends because the shop was closed from noon on Saturday until early Monday morning. Brianna looked forward to spending time with her daughter and had planned all sorts of fun things to do.
“But, Mama!” Daphne cried when Brianna made the suggestion, “I have to go with Papa tonight. Tomorrow is Little Joe’s birthday party.”
Brianna’s heart sank. “Oh, that’s right. I’d forgotten.” Quickly regrouping, Brianna said, “Well, perhaps your papa will bring you back into town after the party. I’ll be off work tomorrow evening and all day Sunday. I thought we might—”
“Then I’d miss the cookie bake. Aunt Rachel got some new cutters, and we’re even going to decorate them with icing and candies. And Grandma Dory is going to show me how to crochet.”
“But, dear heart, what about our special times together? I thought, since school is out, that you’d start staying in town with me on the weekends. It seems like forever since we had a chocolate dunking party, and I hoped we could make a cake. And with summer coming on, we need to select some yardage and pick patterns for your new summer frocks. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
Even as Brianna spoke, she knew she was being selfish. Daphne adored being at David’s ranch. To the child, that was her real home, and the apartment paled in comparison.
Coming from Daphne’s bedroom with a satchel filled with her clothing and toiletries, David said, “Your mother is right, pumpkin. Now that school is out, you should stay with her on weekends when she has time to do things with you. I can bring you back to town after the party tomorrow.”
“Mama, please. Can’t I stay with you another time?” Daphne’s blue eyes swam with tears. “I want to be with Papa and do things with our family. I’ll get to play fetch with Sam, and I want to curry Acorn. Papa says he’s my horse now, and I’ll be able to ride him when I get a bit older. If I have to come back here, I’ll miss all that and I won’t get to play with my cousins. I don’t understand why you won’t come so we can all be together. No customers will visit the dress shop tonight, and you could just keep it closed tomorrow morning! That way, you can be at Little Joe’s party. Papa can have you back early enough on Monday to open on time.”
Brianna had already endured one family celebration that week and had no desire to experience another one. She’d used work as an excuse not to attend Little Joe’s. Being around David’s family unsettled her. They were demonstrative individuals, always hugging, patting, or verbally expressing affection, and it was all too easy for Brianna to forget she didn’t belong in their tight-knit circle.
Throat tight, she said, “I can’t go tonight, darling. I have some dress work I must do.” It wasn’t really a lie. The social was scheduled for the following Friday evening, and with Daphne gone, she could devote herself to the beautiful burgundy gown she was making. As the local dressmaker, she needed to make a grand appearance at the event to establish herself as a superb designer of originals. Bending down to hug Daphne, she said, “You have heaps of fun, all right? When you get back, we’ll pick out material for your summer frocks, and I’m thinking new slippers are in order as well. You’re growing like a weed!” Brianna did her best to sound bright and cheerful. “Now that I’ve got a shop that brings in a steady profit, you’ll never be in shoes that pinch those cute little toes again.”
As Brianna straightened, she met David’s gaze. Loaded down with his saddlebags and Daphne’s paraphernalia, he stood by the door that led downstairs. His blue eyes held shadows she’d never seen before. Sadness or possibly regret? Perhaps he realized how wrenching it was for her to see Daphne choosing to go with him rather than stay behind with her.
“We’d really love it if you’d come. Like Daphne says, I can have you back bright and early Monday morning.” He glanced at Sam, who lay at his feet. “He’s going to miss being brushed morning and night.”
Brianna had taken to grooming Sam twice a day to keep him from filling her shop with clumps of fur. The silly mutt loved the extra attention, especially when she ran the bristles lightly over his upturned belly and armpits. Or were they leg pits on a canine? With a jerk of her heart, she realized that she’d fallen in love with the dog, too.
“He’ll have so much fun that he’ll barely miss me,” she said with a forced laugh. “The three of you go on.” Flapping her hand, she said, “Hurry, now. I’ve work to do and you’re keeping me from it.”
Brianna kept the smile pasted on her face until they’d left and she heard the shop door downstairs jangle closed. Knowing David always locked up, she stood at the window to watch her daughter skip happily away with him and Sam to the livery stable. An awful pain clutched her heart. The tears in her eyes burned like acid.
Fighting the urge to sit at the table and cry, she turned to her work the moment they vanished from sight. Weeping was a useless endeavor, and she’d learned long ago to set aside her feelings and push forward. Even so, the apartment felt empty and lonely. One of Daphne’s hair ribbons lay on the kitchen counter. She’d kicked off her patent leather slippers just inside her bedroom. Everywhere Brianna looked, she saw evidence of her daughter.
She wandered downstairs, hoping to find something to distract her. Behind the center display case, Sam’s hairy bed lay empty. In her sewing area, she found a wilted nosegay of wildflowers that Daphne had picked for her yesterday. She sat on her work chair and stared at the sewing machine. Her chest hurt so badly it felt as if someone had cut away a huge chunk of her heart. Without her daughter, she felt lost and alone in a way that chilled her very bones.
She couldn’t spoil this time for her child. For however long it lasted, Daphne was getting to experience what it was like to have a real family. At least she would be able to look back on this period of her life and know firsthand how it felt to be surrounded by people who loved her.
Brianna had allowed herself to be selfish once. She’d broken the rules, sneaked away behind the good sisters’ backs, and flirted with disaster—all because she’d enjoyed the excitement and been foolish enough to believe no one but she would ever suffer for it. Well, she’d been wrong. Moira had paid the price for Brianna’s wildness.
Now it was up to Brianna to keep her promise to her sister and look after Daphne. And what was best for Daphne now? Glancing around the shop and envisioning the apartment upstairs, Brianna knew she could provide financially for Daphne, but at David’s ranch something even better was being offered.
Crossing herself and then folding her hands, Brianna bent her head in prayer. For the very first time, she implored God to somehow prevent David from ever discovering that Daphne wasn’t his. Brianna didn’t ask this for herself. No, she said the prayer for her daughter’s sake. Please, God, let nothing happen to rob her of all this love.
During the ride out to the ranch, David barely heard Daphne’s constant chatter or saw the plants she pointed out to him. He felt the waning sunlight on his face and chest, but it didn’t warm his heart. Brianna. If he lived to be a hundred, he would never forget the pain he’d glimpsed in her eyes when Daphne had begged to leave with him. He kept recalling that time in the ranch kitchen when he had assured Brianna that he’d never take her child away from her, and how she’d whispered, You’re already doing that.
He was guilty as charged. He’d lured Daphne away from her mother with a dog, kittens, a horse, and all his family. At the ranch, the little girl raced from one exciting activity to the next until she fell into an exhausted sleep at night. David doubted she even missed Brianna.
Once at the ranch, David left Blue in Rob’s capable hands. Daphne begged to curry Acorn and then walk him in the paddock. David needed to look over his accounts and do the books before he started supper. He couldn’t take the time to watch her.
Rob grinned and ruffled Daphne’s hair. “No problem. I’ll keep a sharp watch.”
Daphne flashed a huge grin and raced into the barn. David gazed after her for a moment, and then turned toward the house. It was dim inside, and the rooms smelled musty. As he settled at his desk and lighted the lantern, he made a mental note to open all the windows in the morning while he swept and dusted the furniture.
A stack of correspondence lay on the leather blotter. David guessed that Rob must have been in town and stopped at the post office to collect David’s personal mail. Rob did that sometimes and then left it there for his boss to open when he came out to the ranch. Other times, David got it when he picked up deliveries for the marshal’s office.
He was regarding the top envelope, something from the Colorado Cattlemen’s Association, when Daphne burst through the front door, her green play frock billowing, her white stockings already streaked with dirt. “Papa, while I’m still too little to ride Acorn, can I have a pony? Mr. Rob says Charley and Eva Banks have a nice one that Ralph is getting too big to ride.”
David rolled his chair back from the desk and patted his knee. His first inclination was to give Daphne anything and everything she wanted, but at the edge of his mind, he knew spoiling the child wouldn’t be best for her in the end. Children, just like adults, needed to learn they couldn’t always have everything they wanted.
Daphne bounced up onto his lap. “Can I, Papa? Please?”
David was about to speak when the child shoved her hand down the front of her dress and plucked out their lucky penny. Before she could make a wish, David caught her small fist in his grasp. “Whoa,” he said. “We have to be careful with our penny, Daphne. Wishing on it should be saved for very important things.”