by Lily Reynard
His fingers itched to loosen the fancy hairpins holding her hair in place, to see if the glossy length reached her hips, as he suspected it might.
"Yes, she's really something. Lovely," Dan said, sounding strangely hesitant as they emerged from the hotel's lobby and halted in the shade of the porch roof. "But why did she write us that she was older? And why on earth does someone like her want to live out here, in the middle of nowhere? Suitors must be crowding her parlor back in Philly."
Jim scowled. To tell the truth, he'd been wondering the same thing. But the thoughts had been driven out of his mind when he had started speculating how her soft, plump lips would feel when he kissed her. Or if she wrapped them around his cock.
Especially if she blushed in that fetching way while servicing him…
Dammit, I'm already getting hard. And she's a lady, the kind that would probably faint dead away if she ever caught sight of a real live cock.
And that was even more appealing. He'd always found a bit of demure shyness in a woman to be a powerful aphrodisiac. I bet she's a virgin.
The prospect made his mouth water.
"People come out here for all kinds of reasons," he countered. "Maybe her old life was stifling her. You know they shut away all the nice girls. Maybe she wanted a taste of freedom. An adventure."
"An adventure, huh? As if I don't know exactly what you're thinking." Dan rolled his eyes and continued, "Because I'm thinking it, too."
Yeah, Jim hadn't missed the way that Dan had been extra-gentlemanly with Miss Rose while Jim had been battling his initial reaction to her and trying to tame his unruly cock.
Dan added, "But Jim, we can't be thinking with our dicks, not when it comes to our nephew."
Jim sighed. When their older sister Clara had been on her deathbed, she'd made them promise to take care of her son as if he was their own.
Despite their shock and pain at losing her, they'd done their best in the long weeks since, but caring for babies was hard, time-consuming work, especially when coupled with the equally hard, time-consuming work on their ranch. They needed a woman's help, and badly.
"She seems all right to me," he said. "She's even got a fair bit of backbone for such a sweet young thing. She didn't buckle when I growled at her."
"Yeah, Miss Rose seems sweet and respectable, but she's so young!" Dan replied. He frowned. "And she just 'fessed up that she doesn't have any real experience as a nanny."
"I don't see how we have much of a choice, seeing how only two other women answered our ad," Jim countered.
And never mind that I've taken quite a shine to Miss Rose.
In the weeks since they had placed advertisements in several East Coast newspapers, he'd come to realize that no respectable single woman wanted to live on a horse ranch in the middle of nowhere on the frontier.
His brother's objections sounded reasonable, but now that he'd clapped eyes on her, Jim rebelled against the thought of sending her away again. Even if she had fibbed on her application.
He added, "And unlike Mrs. Gorey and Mrs. Iverson, Miss Rose doesn't show any signs of being either a drunk or an opium addict. And she did provide references written in a decent hand not her own."
"If she didn't lie about that, too," Dan said darkly. He shoved his hands in his pocket. "She just…well, even if she did exaggerate her experience with babies, she seems too good to be true!"
Jim blew out a breath and tried to marshal an argument that would convince his brother.
Problem was, Dan knew him almost as well as he knew himself.
"Look, Dan, if we don't hire Miss Rose, it might be weeks, even months before we get another nibble at our advertisement. Or we'll have to try recruiting again at the dance hall. If we're lucky, maybe one of the new girls wants to trade a life of sin for the respectable life of a nanny." He heaved a sigh and added, "It would sure make the reverend happy if we could save a fallen woman."
Dan snorted and laughed derisively. "Look, we're offering a generous salary by East Coast standards, but it doesn't come anywhere close to what those girls are earning on their backs every night."
"Yup," said Jim, and sensed victory was close at hand. "Look, since Miss Rose's here now, why don't we take her on for a trial period? See how she does. If we're not happy with the job she's doing, we can try advertising again in a few months."
"Okay," Dan said. Then he added, "All I need you to do is keep your hands off her."
Dammit, Dan read my mind. Or perhaps he'd been having the same dirty thoughts about Miss Rose's sweet mouth and curvaceous figure.
"I promise to treat Miss Rose like a respectable lady," Jim said reluctantly.
"Good," Dan said with a sharp nod. "Because it's a bad idea to mix business with pleasure."
"Our nephew isn’t a business, he’s a kid," Jim pointed out. "Our only remaining family."
Saying it out loud felt like a jagged piece of glass embedded in his chest, threatening the comfortable numbness that had shielded him from pain.
He still couldn't believe that Clara and Eddie were gone forever. Not when it felt like they'd return at any moment.
Because it was impossible to accept that he would never again see his loving, energetic big sister, who had raised them after Mom died in childbirth all those years ago.
He pushed down his memories of her, just like he had every day since they had buried Clara next to her husband. Nights were the worst, because thoughts and memories of her crept into his head like mice in a barn, rustling the straw and stirring up all manner of bad thoughts.
“We promised Clara on her deathbed that we'd raise Chris like our own," Dan said, his voice harsh. "I'm serious, Jim. No tomfoolery with the nanny. If she works out, we'll need her to stay for, well, years. Especially once Chris gets older and gets attached to her. It would be cruel if she left because of something we did or said."
"Gotcha. No funny business with the nanny. If she's good, we do our damnedest to convince her to stay a good long while," Jim confirmed dutifully.
But it’s going to be damned hard to keep my hands off the prettiest woman west of the Mississippi.
Discounting the demands of his unruly cock, Jim hadn't been lying when he argued that Miss Rose appeared to be the only decent prospect for the job. Despite her lies about her age and experience, she seemed exactly what she claimed to be, a young lady from respectable circumstances with an appealing air of innocence.
He had no idea why she'd be willing to travel all the way out here to the wilds of the Montana Territory. But he sure as hell didn't want to scare her away, so he was going to make an effort to keep his hands to himself.
Dammit.
Chapter 3
When the Brodys finally returned to the dining room after what felt like an eternity of waiting, Abby's hunger pangs had been supplanted by an icy lump of impending doom.
As if he'd been keeping an eye on their table, Eamon appeared tableside at almost the same time as the brothers. He held a tray loaded with three plates of perfectly cooked roast beef slices accompanied by boiled potatoes and a generous helping of peas and carrots in butter.
The brothers took their seats as Eamon set the plates on the table, along with a glass dish of grated horseradish.
Though it was a foolish hope at this point, Abby anxiously scanned their expressions for any hint of a reprieve.
She vowed to hide her disappointment when they delivered the bad news. While she could do a good job for them, she was also acutely aware that she did not actually have the experience that their advertisement had requested.
And from the moment he laid eyes on her at the station, Jim Brody had seemed displeased with everything about her, from her youth to her inexperience.
She stared down at her meal in misery. She really ought to eat as much as she could before they bundled her back on the train for the long, long ride back to Philadelphia and further disgrace. And it was all her fault.
Once again, I've ruined everything.
"Bo
n appetit," boomed Eamon when he'd finished setting down the last of the plates. She didn't miss his quick look of concern. Apparently she hadn't been as successful at hiding her upset as she'd hoped. "I'll be back with more coffee and your desserts in a bit."
He hurried away, leaving Abby to face her fate.
Jim cleared his throat. "Miss Rose," he began, sounding uncomfortable. "As you've probably surmised, Dan and I discussed our offer of employment in light of, er, this morning's revelations."
Whatever happens, I will not cry in front of these men. Abby took a shaking breath, squared her shoulders, and forced herself to meet his gaze. "Y-yes?"
"Despite your lack of experience working as an actual nanny, we both think that you might do for Chris," Dan said.
What? Abby couldn't believe her ears.
"So we'd like to amend our offer of employment to you with slightly altered terms," finished Jim.
Abby stared at them. Had her prayers actually been answered? She barely had the presence of mind to ask, "What kind of terms?"
"We're proposing a trial period," Jim replied. "Why don't you stay the summer, and we'll see how you and the baby get along? If things don't work out by, say, October, we'll pay you what we owe you and send you home at first snowfall."
They're going to give me a chance to prove myself to them!
She tried to quell her excitement and gathered up every ounce of courage for her next question. "And your previous salary offer still stands?"
She tried not to cringe at the need for her crass mention of money. But she was completely on her own out here on the frontier, far from friends and family and any additional resources.
Fortunately, her new employers didn't evince the slightest sign of offense at the mercenary nature of her question.
"Of course," Jim said smoothly.
He gave her a slow smile filled with sinful promises.
Abby's breath caught as she comprehended the danger to her virtue posed by residing in the home of two extremely attractive men out on a ranch in the middle of nowhere.
Not that she was worried about her new employers. Both of the Brody brothers had been nothing but gentlemanly so far. It was her own damaged moral fiber that felt in danger of fraying under the pressure of that smile.
I would be a fool to turn down the position now, considering how far I've traveled and how much they’re going to pay me. I'll behave with complete decorum at all times and not give them any concern about being a bad influence on the baby.
"That sounds acceptable," she said, pleased that her voice sounded much calmer than she felt right now. "We have a deal, Mr. Brody."
She extended her hand and remembered an instant too late that she had removed her gloves in preparation to eat.
"I thought you were going to call me Jim." His big, sinewy hand closed around hers, and their bare skin made contact.
Something that felt like a jolt of pure electricity raced up her arm, through her chest, and straight down to the pit of her belly, where it kindled a dangerous, all-too-familiar warmth.
"J-Jim," she repeated, feeling as if her corset strings had suddenly tightened of their own accord.
"And Dan," said the other man, his smile as dangerously attractive as his brother's.
He offered his hand in turn, and she took it.
His grip was warm and a little gentler than his brother's, but it had a similar effect on her overwrought senses. The warmth in her belly expanded, spreading to the private place between her legs, where it settled into a hot pulse that echoed her rapidly beating heart.
"Which reminds me, we promised to reimburse you the cost of your travel," added Dan, squeezing her fingers as if he could somehow sense the treacherous arousal of her base animal nature. "How much do we owe you?"
He released her hand, which engendered conflicting emotions of relief and loss.
Abby licked her lips nervously and saw the gazes of both brothers fasten on her mouth.
"Sixty-five dollars," she replied. She decided not to mention the cost of the meals she'd wolfed down in the company of the other third-class passengers at the station-side restaurants during the train's longer stops.
Dan's dark brows shot up. "That can't be right for a first-class ticket! Last I checked, fares were more like a hundred dollars."
"I traveled third class," Abby said with all the dignity she could muster, embarrassed at being forced to confess her straitened circumstances.
"You traveled emigrant class? What the hell?" demanded Jim with a thunderous frown.
Dan scowled and elbowed his twin sharply in the ribs. "Language, Jim!"
Jim winced and added, "Begging your pardon, Miss Rose."
"I may have misunderstood the arrangements," she fibbed. "First class seemed unnecessarily extravagant."
That at least was no lie. The fare had been equal to about half of her promised yearly salary.
"Well, believe me, we intended for you to travel first class, like a lady." Jim pulled out his billfold and counted out a stack of bills, placing them on the tablecloth with two shining $20 gold coins on top. "One hundred dollars, just like we promised you. If things don't work out, you can ride the train home in style."
At the sight of all that money, Abby instantly felt a great deal of her insecurity dissipate.
Even if the Brodys changed their minds tomorrow and sent her packing, she had resources now.
And I wouldn't even have to crawl home in defeat. I might not even have to crawl home at all.
The multitude of signs posted along the main street between the station and the hotel had given her an idea.
She was a passable cook, and this town was filled with hungry young men. With enough money to purchase supplies and rent or build a shack of her own, she could always open a restaurant here.
Abby swallowed hard, her eyes stinging with tears of relief. I did it! I've won the chance to make a whole new life for myself!
Jim picked up his napkin. "Well, now that everything's settled, Miss Rose, let's dig in before our food gets cold."
"Please call me Abby," she said boldly, reaching for the money and tucking it away in her reticule.
She was suddenly starving.
◆◆◆
Her immediate future settled and her stomach pleasantly full with what had turned out to be a delicious dinner, Abby was able to enjoy the drive out to the Pronghorn Springs Ranch. They rode a green farm wagon hitched to a pair of huge bay draft horses named Castor and Pollux that looked as if they could have each carried a medieval knight into battle.
She told herself that it was undoubtedly a sign of her weak nature that she enjoyed being squeezed between the two tall, attractive men as the three of them sat together on the padded bench at the front of the wagon.
To their credit, neither of the Brody brothers took advantage of the situation with wandering hands like the ones that Abby had experienced on Philadelphia's horse-drawn streetcars.
She was left to enjoy the mildly scandalous pleasure of their hard, muscled thighs pressing against her legs through the layers of fabric separating them.
The big horses moved down the rutted dirt street at a brisk trot, as if the laden wagon weighed nothing. They were clearly bursting with restless energy, but Jim deftly controlled them whenever they threatened to break into a gallop.
They quickly left Twin Forks behind, with its sprawling collection of wooden miners' cabins and storefronts and steep, stump-covered hillsides that had once been thickly forested.
As they entered a wild, scenic landscape of rolling hills, Dan pointed out grazing elk, deer, and pronghorn in the lush pastures.
They drove for an hour down a narrow dirt track that wound through the hills before descending into a wide valley. Abby began to see split-rail fences on either side of the road, and the deer and elk were supplanted by large herds of horses, donkeys, and mules.
"Welcome to the Pronghorn Springs Ranch," Jim said, encompassing the valley with a sweep of his hand. "All the land f
rom those mountains over there—" he pointed to a series of high peaks miles away to the east, then moved his finger to indicate another set of mountains equally distant to the west "—to Cougar Ridge over there is ours."
Abby blinked, since she had assumed that they were passing through a neighboring property. She had heard that frontier properties tended to be larger than the farms back in Pennsylvania, but the expanse of this ranch was staggering.
"Your ranch must be the size of Delaware, or even one of those European kingdoms!" she exclaimed.