As the little girl pressed against his leg, he breathed in her scent. She smelled of sunshine, flowers, and something sweet he associated with babyhood. He remained quiet as she poked a thumb into an indentation in his cheek and traced her fingers across his chin.
Concluding her uncle meant her no harm, Lily climbed on his lap, leaned against his chest, and sighed contentedly. “Are you going to live here with us?”
“No, Lily. I have to take care of some business then I’ll sail on a big ship back to America and ride a train to my ranch.”
“Why?” Lily wiggled her feet with energetic enthusiasm as they hung over Thane’s solid thigh.
“Because that’s where I live and I have to go back. My cattle and horses will miss me.”
“You have horseys? My papa rode horseys.” Lily stared up at him with bright eyes.
“Your papa taught me how to ride. Did he teach you?” Thane counted the smattering of freckles across her button nose and found himself thoroughly charmed by the way she pursed her little rosebud lips before she spoke. “I’ll take you for a ride before I leave.”
“Absolutely not!” Jemma interjected, thumping her teacup and saucer onto the table while shooting livid glances at Thane. “She’s much too young and besides, considering how… well, with that… there will be no riding in Lily’s immediate future. I forbid it!”
Thane ignored her outburst, keeping his focus on the engaging child on his lap, full of life and questions.
“Every Jordan knows how to ride.” His tone held a degree of coolness, but he continued smiling warmly at Lily.
“I know how.”
Thane whipped his gaze around, connecting with a boy who so closely resembled Henry, he nearly dropped Lily on the floor. No one mentioned his brother also had a son. Although the lad shared the same copper eye color of his sister and aunt, he was the spitting image of Henry from his straight brown hair and the tilt of his chin to the way he carried himself as he walked.
“And who might you be?” Thane finally found his voice, although it sounded strained when he spoke. Inundated with so many conflicting emotions in such a brief period, he began to fear he’d soon be overwhelmed with them.
“Henry James Jordan III, sir.” The boy bowed to him before taking a seat beside Jemma on the settee.
“That’s my brother, Jack.” Lily giggled, pointing to her sibling. “He’s nine and thinks he knows everything.”
“Lily,” Jack warned, staring at his sister. “You better…”
“That’s enough.” Jemma placed a gentle hand on Jack’s shoulder and the boy snapped his mouth closed.
Stunned to discover Henry had a wife and offspring, Thane glanced back at the doorway to see if any more children emerged from the depths of the house.
“It’s just these two,” Weston said quietly, hiding his grin behind his teacup. “I assure you, they’re more than a handful.”
“I reckon they probably are if they’ve got Henry’s blood flowing in their veins.”
Lily yanked on his shirt, directing his attention back to her before he could further observe Jack. “Did you know there’s a dragon that lives in the tree outside my window? He’s purple with a big tail and he eats daisies and frogs for dinner.”
“Is that so?” Thane furrowed his brow to keep from laughing at the child. Apparently, she had an active imagination along with an expansive vocabulary.
“Yes. Jack doesn’t believe me, but the dragon is there. We could ride him to your ship. Have you ridden a dragon before? May I go with you to America? May I visit your ranch? What’s a ranch, Uncle Thane? Is it a fun place to live? Do you have a little girl? Do you like me?”
Scrambling to formulate an answer to even one of Lily’s rapid-fire questions, Thane had no idea how to respond. He wanted to get to know both children, yet feared what that would do to his ability to keep his distance from them.
Conscious of his obvious discomfort, Jemma intervened.
“Why don’t you two run off to the kitchen and see if you can be of help to Cook or Greenfield for a while?” Jemma suggested, wanting to curtail Lily’s stories as well as get down to the business of settling Henry’s estate. She intended to find out exactly what Thane Jordan planned to do with his brother’s holdings, including Breckinridge Cottage and the children.
“I want to stay with Uncle Thane, Auntie Jemma. Please?” Lily turned to her aunt with a becoming pout.
“No, poppet. Now, my darlings, off with you both. Take Rigsly with you.” Jemma motioned for Lily to follow her brother as he walked toward the door and patted his leg. The dog lumbered to his feet and moved close to Jack but Lily remained on Thane’s lap.
She wrapped both arms around his neck and squeezed before kissing his cheek. “You smell like my papa. I think I’ll keep you.” Lily jumped off his lap and skipped after her brother.
Childish chatter drifted back to them as the siblings made their way down the hall to the kitchen with the large canine.
Thane slumped back in his chair and forked a hand through his hair, still at a loss for words. Until he set foot in Weston’s office, he’d somehow hoped that Henry wasn’t truly gone, that it was some elaborate plan or scheme on his brother’s behalf to see him again.
Losing track of Henry hadn’t been intentional. Thane left their South Carolina home abruptly and sent his brother a hastily penned note telling him of his plans to head west. He promised to write when he was settled, which he did. But after that, he never heard from Henry again.
He’d often wondered why his brother shut him out of his life. Henry must have moved from Liverpool to Bolton about the time he moved to Oregon. It appeared his last letter never reached his brother.
Regret filled him that he let pride stand in the way of keeping in touch with a brother he’d loved deeply.
Now, Henry was gone, leaving behind two children, a huffy sister-in-law, an aloof dog, and a tangle of affairs that needed immediate attention. No wonder Weston insisted he attend to matters in person.
He would have appreciated the man letting him know about Henry’s family, though. Thoroughly disturbed by their unexpected introduction, Thane’s thoughts tumbled over each other until he sat forward and grabbed his head in his hands. If he were at his ranch, he’d have saddled his horse and ridden out across the range until he could make sense of things.
Although he longed to go for a horseback ride and work through his problems, it seemed impossible. He was stuck in the house as the rain dripped with dreary steadiness outside. With effort, he held back a sigh and glanced at Miss Bryan.
Despite her immediate dislike of the man, Jemma experienced a moment of compassion for Henry’s brother. It had to come as a shock to discover Henry had not only married, but also left behind a family. Then again, if the man hadn’t disappeared into the wilds of Oregon and shut his brother out of his life, the details wouldn’t come as a surprise.
Upset again on Henry’s behalf, she’d heard from Weston how desperately her brother-in-law had searched to find his only living relative. A most unreasonable desire to pour what was left of the now-cold tea over Mr. Jordan’s dark blond head nearly overtook her.
Knotting her hands on her lap, she lifted her gaze to discover Weston shaking his head at her, giving her a knowing smile. The man had always been unbelievably astute at reading both her and Jane’s moods.
“Perhaps Mr. Jordan would like a few moments to himself to gather his thoughts. I’m sure meeting all of us has been something of a surprise,” Jemma said, rising to her feet and lifting the tea tray as she stood. “Weston, would you mind showing him to the guest room next to yours?”
“I’d be happy to, my dear. I think it best to wait until after the children are in bed to discuss Henry’s will,” Weston suggested.
Jemma nodded in agreement while Thane stared at the thick rug beneath his feet. It looked imported and costly, like so many of the furnishings he’d noticed in the house.
He had much to learn about his brothe
r.
After Jemma breezed out of the room with the tea tray, Weston escorted Thane up a set of impressive mahogany stairs to the second floor bedrooms. He opened the door to a room decorated in shades of dark blue and green and motioned for Thane to step inside.
“Will this be satisfactory?”
“It’s fine, Weston. Thanks.” Thane didn’t bother to look around the room, walking directly to the window and leaning against the frame, staring out at the rain-laden sky.
“Are you well, sir?”
“Not particularly. This is worse than the time I got bushwhacked and stampeded. I never expected all this.” Thane waved his hand around, encompassing the room but meaning the entirety of the situation.
“I tried to impart the necessary details, sir, but you…” Weston stopped speaking when Thane turned a cold glare his direction.
“You don’t need to keep repeating it. I told you I wasn’t ready to hear what you had to say so I can’t toss the blame anywhere else. I just had no idea...” Thane swallowed down the lump that once again formed in his throat. “I didn’t realize Henry had a family. A lovely family, from the looks of it.”
“He doted on Jane and the children. After Jack, they’d nearly given up on having another. By some miracle, they found themselves anxiously awaiting the arrival of little Lily.”
“Is that what happened to Jane?” Thane asked in a moment of comprehension. “She died in childbirth, didn’t she?”
“Yes. Henry blamed himself. She nearly died when Jack was born but eventually gained back her strength. No one expected to lose her when Lily was born, least of all Henry. Jemma has been a blessing. In all forthrightness, she has been the one raising both children. Jane spent so much time abed after Jack was born, then with subsequent illnesses. Jemma filled the role of both aunt and mother. She’s the only mother Lily has known.”
Thane nodded his head, feeling an even greater need for some fresh air and privacy to gain control of his thoughts. “I’m going for a walk. What time do I need to be back?”
“Jemma mentioned dinner service at seven. You might want to dress for the occasion.”
Weston left Thane alone in the room, staring down at his Levi’s and work shirt. He didn’t own a bunch of fancy clothes because he had no use for them on the ranch. He had a suit he wore on Sundays when he made it to church, but beyond that, his wardrobe consisted of denims and flannel or chambray shirts. If Miss Bryan didn’t care for his mode of dress, she could keep her appealing coppery eyes fastened elsewhere.
Quietly walking down the stairs to the front entry, Thane shrugged into his coat and settled his hat on his head. After turning up his collar, he opened the door and stepped outside into the bitter drizzle.
Jemma stood in the front parlor and watched him trudge down the lane with his hands shoved into his pockets, shoulders rounded against the weather.
Although he provoked her temper, pity for the man softened her heart. It had to be difficult and trying to align his thoughts to all he’d discovered since arriving in England.
With a sigh, she let the lace panel covering the window fall back into place. If he was upset with what he’d already learned, she dreaded his reaction when Weston reviewed the full terms of the will with him. She’d heard them a month ago and thoughts of fulfilling Henry’s requests still made bitterness churn in her stomach and anxiety plague her thoughts.
Chapter Three
With a muscled forearm braced against the fireplace mantle, Thane stared over his shoulder at Weston.
“That can’t be right, Weston. Did Henry have a mental abnormality that obscured his ability to think rationally?”
“Henry had all has faculties about him when he made his will.” Weston frowned and glanced at Jemma for support. She failed to notice his unspoken request, lost in the loathing glares she continued to cast toward Thane.
“I can’t take those children. I don’t care what his will states, I can’t take them.” Thane paced from the fireplace to the window and back again, visibly agitated. “Even if I wanted to take them, which I don’t, my ranch is no place for a couple of kids, especially two who are accustomed to a way of life vastly different from a modest cabin in the American West.”
“Please, Weston, isn’t there anything we can do?” Jemma looked at the solicitor with pleading eyes. They’d had this conversation many times before, but Henry’s will made his desire for Thane to raise the children perfectly clear. “I can’t bear the thought of them growing up in America while I’m here.”
“That’s another thing.” Thane continued pacing while he spoke, stopping briefly to incline his head toward Jemma. “Why didn’t Henry at least leave Miss Bryan this house? According to the terms of the will, he’s left her penniless and homeless. Why would he do such a thing, considering the circumstances?”
Surprised by Thane’s question as well as his concern on her behalf, Jemma snapped her head his direction. He shrugged his shoulders and shoved his hands into his pockets then resumed his post leaning over the mantle, staring into the flames.
When he returned from his walk soaked to the skin, she’d asked Greenfield to draw him a hot bath. The man looked like he had yet to warm up, the way he continued to linger close to the fire.
“Henry didn’t intend for her to be penniless or homeless.” Weston spoke to Thane then nodded to the woman fidgeting in the small side chair next to him. “I assure you, my dear, Henry meant no slight. When he asked me to record his will, he seemed quite convinced Mr. Jordan would make sure you received proper provision for the future.”
Thane snorted and stabbed at the fire with a poker, making sparks fly out and land on the hearthrug. The dog raised his head from his bed on the floor nearby and sniffed the air.
Frustrated, Thane stamped out one lingering ember, battling the urge to kick a hole through the floor.
Jemma scowled at Thane, biting her tongue. If Henry had any idea what an uncouth cavedweller his brother had grown into, he would never have left her or the children at his mercy.
“Let’s go over this again, shall we?” Weston feathered the papers in his hand.
“No.” Thane glowered at Weston. “Reading it again won’t change anything. Henry provided a sizeable inheritance for the children, accessible when they turn eighteen. He left everything else, down to the last blasted teacup in this house to me. I’m to either stay here in England or take the children with me to America, but they are officially mine. It’s up to me to decide what to do with his business holdings, this house, and make provision for Miss Bryan…” Thane thrust his hand Jemma’s direction, “and the remaining servants. Correct?”
“That sums it up precisely.” Weston set the papers on the table beside him and leaned back in his chair. “Very well, indeed.”
Jemma’s teacup clattered against the saucer as she set it on the table. “That does not sum it up very well. Not at all.” Perturbed and fighting feelings of betrayal that Henry left her in such a predicament, Jemma kept her posture impossibly straight and lifted her chin with a touch of defiance. “As a matter of fact, the teacups are mine. They belonged to my mother, hence they aren’t Henry’s to give away, as are many of the household goods, including the rug you seem intent on destroying with embers from the fire. The children belonged to Jane as much as they belonged to Henry. Therefore, they should have the opportunity to be cared for by her last remaining relative.”
Thane stared at her, censure filling his features. “They aren’t a rug or a painting to be bartered over, Miss Bryan.”
Unsettled by Thane’s icy tone, his cool gaze pierced her composure. “Good heavens!” Jemma rose to her feet as tremors of anger rushed through her. Oh, how she wanted to slap the smirk from the American’s face. “I am well aware of the children, Mr. Jordan, as well as their needs, their likes, their dreams, and wishes. I’m the one who nurses them through illnesses, kisses scraped knees, wipes away their tears, and listens to their prayers. How dare you insinuate I think those two precious b
abies are mere possessions!”
Hastily turning on her heel, Jemma started to storm from the room but Thane grabbed her arm and pulled her to an abrupt halt.
“I didn’t mean it that way, you mule-headed woman. Henry, for whatever misguided or crazy reason, wanted the kids to be with me.” Thane couldn’t ignore Jemma’s trembling limbs or the fury sparking from her eyes. He’d never seen a woman so infuriated and fully anticipated the moment when she’d break down into hysterical sobs.
When she continued to glare at him, pressing her kissable lips together, he persisted. “Look, I’m no happier about this than you are, but I want to do right by Henry and those kids. I don’t want this house and I certainly don’t want his money. I just want to get things settled and go home.”
“I’ll thank you to keep your hands to yourself, sir.” Yanking her arm from his grasp, Jemma took a step back, away from his domineering presence. “I’d be happy to pack your things and send you on your way. You couldn’t make me any happier this very moment if you’d take your leave and never return.”
Weston guided her back to the seat she’d occupied minutes earlier. “Jemma, my dear, please calm yourself. I’m certain we can work through an agreeable solution to this problem.” He motioned for Thane to take the chair opposite of her. The man begrudgingly sat without making further comment.
Before speaking, Weston spent a moment gathering his thoughts as he sat in the chair next to Jemma. “So far, you two have discussed only two options: Thane staying here with the children or taking them to America. It’s not feasible for Mr. Jordan to uproot his life in Oregon and move here permanently. He’s made that abundantly clear. However, Mr. Jordan readily admits he is not equipped for, nor accustomed to children, presenting quite a dilemma. On the other hand, Miss Bryan and the children share a special bond and it would be a tragedy to separate them. Nonetheless, Miss Bryan will soon be left without a home or a source of income and has no way to support two children.”
Crumpets & Cowpies: (Sweet Historical Western Romance) (Baker City Brides Book 1) Page 3