A Mail-Order Dream
Miners to Millionaires - Book 4
Janelle Daniels
Dream Cache Publishing
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Epilogue
Titles by Janelle Daniels
Used to working for her keep, Aria McKinnon doesn’t know what to do with herself now that she’s a woman of means. She’s determined to work as a nanny for Cameron Grant’s two unruly children, and Irish or not, she will get the job. What she didn’t expect was for the ruthless banker she’d heard so much about to set her pulse racing.
Cameron Grant has no desire to remarry. Ever. He needs a caretaker for his children, preferably one that will last longer than a week. When Aria McKinnon walks into his office, her fiery spirit lights something inside him long extinguished. He warns her that there’s no future for them, but when she begins to court another, he’s eaten up with jealousy and questions his need to push her away.
When Cameron’s children run away after overhearing an argument, Aria and Cameron must work together to find them. But the only way to bring them home safely is to take another risk… on love.
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To Dan for making all of my dreams come true.
Chapter 1
“He’s going to want you. He’s totally going to want you,” Aria McKinnon told herself as she straightened her hat with a firm yank and stepped onto the dusty street toward the bank. “Just breathe. He’s already hired you.”
Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Technically, Cameron Grant, the owner of Promise Creek’s bank, hadn’t hired her—his housekeeper had. Still, Mrs. Farnsworth had reassured Aria that Mr. Grant wouldn’t object. The problem was, Aria wasn’t so sure about that.
Self-consciously, she tucked a stray curl behind her ear. The bright red color no longer flew through the air, drawing attention. Not that she was ashamed of it. In fact, she loved the striking appearance her fiery-red hair and shamrock-green eyes presented. It reminded her of her family back home in Philadelphia and of all the family who still lived in Ireland.
But that’s what made her so nervous. She was Irish.
In her experience, no one wanted to hire an Irish girl, especially not as a nanny. But this was a fresh start in a new place, and the majority of people in Promise Creek haven’t seemed to mind her heritage. However, a man like Mr. Grant, someone who’d built his fortune in the gold rush town—a shrewd businessman who’d often been called hard, calculating, and ruthless—was sure to object to having her as his employee.
She wasn’t going to let that stop her though. Her parents had taught her to fight for what she wanted, for what she believed in—and right now, she wanted this job. She wanted the security it would bring, she wanted the challenge it presented, and she would just have to talk Mr. Grant out of any prejudices he might have.
Irish or not, she would be looking after his two children.
She stepped onto the boardwalk outside the bank and swatted at the dust that had settled on her emerald green skirt. She needed to look professional and competent, not like a dust bunny just run over by a stagecoach.
Straightening her shoulders, feeling as well-put-together as possible, she gripped the bank’s sun-warmed brass handle and pushed her way into the polished building.
She hadn’t been here much. Ronan Briggs, the worker in charge of mining their claim, handled most transactions. And thank heavens too. Ivan, the man who’d ordered himself nine mail-order brides, herself included, and had died only a few days before they’d all arrived, hadn’t thought banking and budgeting were necessary in a wife. All the women had come from different backgrounds; some had been rich, some poor. A few of them were forthright and outspoken, while others were shy and quiet. The only things they all had in common were that they were pretty and they’d had to leave home for one reason or another.
And now here she was.
She walked up to the counter, her shoulders and back straight, hoping she looked confident. “I’m here to see Mr. Grant,” she told the balding bank teller.
“Do you have an appointment?” He looked her up and down, his gaze lingering on her hair, as if doubting Mr. Grant would want to speak with her.
Her back straightened even more. “Yes. I do.”
He nodded once, but it still wasn’t polite. She’d seen the look of revulsion in his eyes once he’d guessed at her ancestry. She was used to it by now, after everything she’d gone through in Philadelphia, but since coming to Promise Creek, and realizing not everyone held similar prejudices, she had let her guard down. She needed to thicken her skin, once again.
Apparently, this was hostile territory.
He disappeared into a room in the back, and she heard him speaking to someone, but couldn’t make out any of the words.
She smoothed a hand down her skirt, hoping to settle her nerves. He will hire you.
The man came back and motioned for her to join him behind the counter. “Mr. Grant will see you now.”
She followed him over the shiny marble tiles on the floor and into the back portion of the bank.
“He’s through there. Knock, then walk through,” he instructed, before returning to his post at the counter.
Her neck strained as her gaze followed his movements. “Thank you.” Not that he cared about her gratitude, but she wouldn’t be ungrateful. The man didn’t know it yet, but they were about to be employed by the same person.
Refusing to give herself more time to fret, she opened the door and stepped in to Mr. Grant’s office.
The scent of beeswax and lemon hit her nose. The floor was covered in thick planks of polished wood, which matched the over-sized mahogany desk in the middle of the room, and was equally as formidable as the man who currently sat behind it. The desk looked austere and hard, and she desperately wanted to advise him to add a potted plant or two to soften the space up, but wisely, she held her tongue.
“You may sit,” he said, without looking up from the letter he was writing.
At his words, she moved into one of the chairs across from his desk. She remained silent on the uncushioned chair, patiently waiting for him to address her when he was ready. Demanding his attention was no way to start off their business arrangement.
With nothing else to do, she studied him, noting that he seemed as cold as the room around them. His pen flew across the page with minimal flourishes, little fuss, and without an ounce of hesitation. His dirty-blond hair was a little longer than she would’ve expected from a business man of his stature, but she couldn’t judge people here based on what she knew from back east. It was different out west; the rules were different.
With a final scrawl of his signature, he stamped the paper and filed it into one of his drawers. He turned the key in the drawer’s lock and pocketed it, before finally looking her way. The impact of his dark eyes sent flutters shooting through her belly, but she mentally scolded herself. It didn’t matter how handsome he was, he was going to be her boss.
He leaned back in his chair. “You’re Aria McKinnon?”
“Yes, sir.”
A look of disappointment crossed his features. “You’re here about the nanny position?”
“Yes. I’ve spoken with Mrs.
Farnsworth, and she believes I will be a good fit.”
“She told me.” He cocked his head a little as he studied her. “I’m not sure I agree with her assessment.”
She tried not to squirm under his gaze. “I assure you I’m more than qualified. I’m one of the older children in my family of eight, and I have plenty of practice looking after my siblings. I also was a nanny for a family back in Philadelphia.” She didn’t add she’d looked after them for a grand total of three days, before the children’s parents had asked to speak with her. She’d been let go almost immediately.
“I don’t doubt you could do the job.”
Her chin notched up. “If this is because of my hair color—”
“Excuse me?”
“Och! You know what I’m talking about.” Her accent emerged a little along with her temper. But frankly, she didn’t care. She was tired of being judged based on her looks.
“Apparently, I don’t. I don’t care what your hair color is. I’m certain you’ll be married off before you ever have time to settle in. You’re much too pretty to last long.”
The wind blew out of her. “I’m too… You mean, you don’t want to hire me because you think I’ll get married soon, and not because I’m Irish?”
“What does being Irish have to do with anything? I need a good worker and someone reliable. I need to know whoever I hire is going to be around for a good long time. I don’t have the time or desire to have someone settle in, only to run off because they’re in love. I’m sorry, Miss McKinnon, but you’re not who I’m looking for.”
Dismissing her, he grabbed another blank sheet of paper and began writing as if she were no longer there. She couldn’t decide what shocked her more; being so abruptly dismissed, or having him not care at all that she was Irish. He hadn’t rejected her because of her heritage. He’d rejected her because she was…pretty.
Cameron Grant, one of the wealthiest and most powerful people in Promise Creek, thought she was pretty. It made her mind spin, but she wasn’t going to let it ruin this opportunity.
She stood from her chair and placed her hands on his desk. “Mr. Grant,” He glanced up at her, but the impatience she saw there didn’t scare her off. “I understand that you want someone reliable, someone who will commit to this job. I’m that person.”
When he was about to speak, she held up her hand to stop him. His eyebrows rose, but he didn’t interrupt her. She wasn’t sure if it was because he was surprised someone had the audacity to quiet him, or if he actually wanted to hear what she had to say. Either way, it didn’t matter. “While I can’t say that I won’t ever marry, it won’t be soon. No one is courting me, and marriage is a long way off. So while I can’t promise you forever, I can promise a good long while. No one will be more dedicated to watching over your children than I will. No one else will go far beyond what is expected like I will. I’m willing to be at your beck and call and come when needed. I have no family and nothing else to keep me away. So you see, you’re not going to find anyone nearly as suitable as I am.”
She nodded before stepping back. When he didn’t move or speak for a full minute, she wondered if she’d grossly overestimated herself and the situation. But even though she doubted her rash speech, she didn’t move from her position and continued to hold his stare without showing any sign of her doubts.
He rose slowly and held out his hand. “You’re hired, Miss McKinnon.”
She shook his hand. “Really?” She was certain he’d been about to throw her out, not give her the job.
“I admire determination. My kids will need a nanny with that level of tenacity.” He sat back in his chair. “When can you start?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Good. I’ll let Mrs. Farnsworth know you’ll be coming. I expect you to be on time and not bother me with trivial things.”
“Yes, sir.”
She felt like he was dismissing her again when he turned his attention back to his paperwork, so she headed toward the door.
“Oh. And Miss McKinnon? Try not to get married next week.”
She stilled at his words. Was that possibly… a joke? She turned back to him, searching his face for any hint of teasing, but he wasn’t even looking at her. “I’ll try not to. Who knows, you might even remarry before I do, and then you’ll have no need of me.”
“That will never happen.” Definitely no teasing that time.
“Why ever not?”
He looked up from his paperwork and his eyes locked with hers. “Because no one could ever pay me enough to take another wife.”
Chapter 2
Cam had no idea why he’d told Miss McKinnon he would never remarry. Most people knew he and his late wife, Penelope, hadn’t been a love match, but no one could’ve guessed how cold and selfish she had been. From the minute their marriage was legal and binding, the arrangement their parents had made for them had turned his life into a living hell.
It was only because of his sense of duty that had him trudging to her chamber in hopes of producing their children. Even their wedding night had been a disaster.
He didn’t blame the children, they were innocent in all of this, but he couldn’t help but see their mother in Thomas’ blond hair and cornflower eyes or in Phoebe’s smile. Not that he’d ever seen Penelope smile, but their daughter had no doubt inherited the shape of her mother’s mouth.
As he watched his children whisper to each other on the sofa, he could only pray their new nanny would be able to survive them. They were running out of options for caretakers, and he had no desire to continue advertising and interviewing more women. The expense wasn’t worth it, especially when they would most likely end up quitting soon after spending time with his two hellions anyway, and the interruption of his time giving interviews frustrated him.
“Thomas, Phoebe, come here please,” he said, and watched as they raced to get to him first.
“Yes, Father?” they asked in unison.
He looked at their faces, both trying to look as innocent as newborn babes. He just happened to know better. “Miss McKinnon will be arriving soon, but I’m not going to be here. I need you two to be on your best behavior. We can’t afford to have another nanny quit.”
“Yes, Father,” they agreed, echoing one another.
He looked at both of them, far from satisfied. “I mean it. If you run off this nanny, there will be consequences; perhaps you’ll have to be sent to boarding school in the east.” He let the threat linger in the air, and while Phoebe’s eyes widened in concern, Thomas’ held an edge Cam didn’t like.
“We will be extra kind to her,” Phoebe agreed with a firm nod.
“Thomas?”
“Yes.” The boy looked sideways at Phoebe. “We will even treat her like family.”
Cam wasn’t sure what to make of Thomas’ statement, but his gut told him not to trust his son at his word. He could only hope and pray Aria would last the day.
Heaven help him.
Aria had debated about what to wear, but had finally settled on a blouse and skirt that were dark enough to hide stains, but was also easy to move about in.
When she knocked on the Grant’s two-story home, sighing over the large wrap-around porch teeming with overflowing pots of flowers, she felt ready to take charge of her future. And that started now, with the Grant children.
Mrs. Farnsworth opened the door with a smile. “Miss McKinnon! Mr. Grant isn’t home, but he’ll be pleased when he hears you were on time.”
“I take it he’s a stickler for punctuality.” Aria grinned as she stepped into the house.
The older woman chuckled. “That’s putting it lightly. The man lives and dies by his pocket watch.”
“I would’ve never guessed.” It took everything in Aria not to snort at the statement. If there was one thing she’d surmised about Mr. Grant, it was that he was a man who allowed himself little flexibility. She imagined he left for work at the same time each day, ate the same well-balanced meal for lunch, and promptly left the
bank at closing. She was sure he never did anything spontaneous or surprising.
Except he thought you were beautiful, she reminded herself. That was certainly out of sync with her vision of him, even if he thought he was merely stating a fact and being practical about it.
Aria followed the housekeeper through the house and made mental notes of where each room was located.
“The children are here in the nursery,” Mrs. Farnsworth finally said, as they stopped in front of a closed door on the second floor. “I’ve left a strict schedule that Mr. Grant insists his children follow to the letter.”
“All right. Children do need structure,” Aria said, but Mrs. Farnsworth’s eyes wavered as if she wanted to disagree.
“If there’s anything you need, you may come and ask me. Hopefully you’ll settle in quickly.” The housekeeper wiped her hands on her apron. “Well, I’ll let you introduce yourself to the children. I’m sure they’re already aware that you’ve arrived, unless you’d rather I stay?”
“I’ll be just fine. I’m sure you have plenty of other things to do. Thank you for showing me the way.”
The woman’s eyes appeared to be worried and nervous, but she simply nodded and hurried off, leaving Aria facing the closed door. She took a deep breath, then released it slowly. You can do this.
She listened for a moment, but couldn’t hear any sounds inside and wondered if they had fallen asleep. In her experience, children were only quiet when they were sleeping. Other than that, they were busy exploring and making a mess. She grinned and thought, Just as they are meant to.
She gripped the knob and opened the door. “Hello?” she called out quietly, just in case they truly were sleeping.
When no one replied, she took a step into the room. Her foot caught on something, and she screamed, flailing her arms as she tried to regain her balance. With nothing to grab onto, she fell forward, landing hard on one elbow.
A Mail-Order Dream (Miners to Millionaires Book 4) Page 1