Jake grimaced but gave it serious thought for a moment before shaking his head. “Thanks, MacRae, but I won’t give up my work. I love it. I love the travel, the adventure. The excitement of a new find. I’m going to Tibet.”
With the necklace.
‘Tell me you’re not planning on taking those children with you, Jacob,” declared Nanny Pip.
“No.” Jake reached for a cookie as he slumped back down into his chair. He took a bite, chewed, studied the cookie much like Dair had done, then popped the whole thing into his mouth. Spicy sweet. Not bad, actually. Kind of like the way he liked his women.
Marigold Pippin shook her head in disapproval, whether at the size of his bite or from reading his mind— she was his former nanny, after all—Jake couldn’t say.
Dair eyed his friend curiously. “If you’re not turning the children over to Auntie Awful, and you don’t intend to take them to Tibet then just what do you have in mind?’’
Jake dusted his hands. “I know my sister. She knew me. There’s an out for me in this guardianship, or I can’t find north by looking at a starry sky.”
Actually, he’d already figured out his “out.” He’d just hoped to find a less drastic solution. However, since none had occurred and time was ticking away, it looked as if he had no choice but to make the leap.
Jake reached for another cookie, took a nibble, then said, “Spicy sweet. I need to remember I like that as I go about the hunt.”
“The hunt?” Dair’s brows arched. “What hunt?’
“The hunt for a woman. A wife. A mother for my sister’s children.” Jake grimaced a little as he said it. A wife. First he’s a father, now a husband?
“A wife,” Dair repeated.
“Yeah.” Jake’s stomach took a nauseated roll. What the hell was in those cookies, anyway?
“Jacob,” Nanny Pip said in a chastising tone.
Determinedly quashing his doubts, Jake plunged ahead. “If either of you can think of something else, please, let me hear it. Otherwise, I think that under the circumstances, if I want my freedom, then I’m going to have to get married.”
Dair’s mouth lifted in one of his rare smiles. “Your plan is to marry some woman, dump five kids on her, then sail off to Tibet for a two-year expedition? You’ll accomplish this feat in six weeks?”
“Hmm…” Jake murmured. “You have a point. I probably can’t get the job done in six weeks.” He rose and crossed the room to the rosewood lady’s writing desk in front of the window. From the center drawer, he removed a small calendar book and flipped through the pages. “Better make it eight. After all, I’ll want a honeymoon.”
Marigold Pippin slumped back against the sofa cushion and closed her eyes. “He always was a dreamer.”
KAT MCBRIDE hated zoological parks. She hated the smell and the small, dismal cages. She hated the sad-eyed stare of the animals trapped in a life, an existence, they must despise. Gazing at a tiger sprawled in the far corner of his cage, she wondered if he wished he were dead.
Sometimes when she looked in the mirror she imagined a set of bars in front of her own face.
“Kat, darling,” called her grandmother. “There you are. Emma and I have been wondering just where you’d run off to. The reception is winding down.”
Kat fought to summon up a smile, then turned around. Almost despite herself, she laughed. Ha bold grandmother wore a paper mask with an elephant’s trunk for a nose. “Where did you get that, Monique?”
“It’s wonderful, isn’t it? A precious little girl gave it to me. A little blond angel.” Pausing just a moment, she pinned Kat with a shrewd gaze and added, “She reminded me of Susie.”
Kat flinched. She couldn’t help it. Even after two years, the sound of her daughter’s name sent a spear of painful longing through her heart. Monique was the only family member who dared mention Susie’s name aloud. The others walked so carefully around Kat, as if she were a fragile piece of glass that would shatter on the breath of a word she couldn’t bear to hear. Monique said hogwash to that.
Six weeks ago, three hours after Mari hesitantly announced to the family at supper that her doctor believed she was carrying twins, Monique had knocked once on Kat’s bedroom door at Willow Hill and barged right in. Finding the shades pulled, the room dark and her granddaughter lying listlessly on her bed, Monique had slapped Kat’s hind quarters and ordered her to pack. She’d decided that Kat would accompany her on her upcoming trip to Europe for the dedication of the statue she’d completed for the entrance to the London Zoological Park. Kat’s objections fell on deaf ears, and within a week she found herself in Galveston boarding a ship with Monique and Kat’s sister Emma, who, surprisingly, had decided to tag along.
“Do you remember that time your father took Susie to P. T. Barnum’s circus, and she roared back at the lion?” Monique asked.
“I do,” said Emma as she slipped her arm through Kat’s. “Her chubby little cheeks got so red, she roared so hard.”
Kat smiled at the memory, and kept smiling even as they moved on to the next exhibit. It was getting easier to smile, she decided. Lately, she’d smile at least once a day. That was a great improvement over going weeks without one.
Maybe Monique was right. Maybe it was a good thing to think about her baby, to talk about her baby. Maybe it was a healing thing.
Kat was desperate to heal, for herself and for her family. She knew it hurt Mari that she couldn’t be around Mari’s little Drew or his sister Madeline.
Couldn’t hold them, couldn’t ruffle their hair. Couldn’t kiss their chubby little cheeks.
Yes, Kat was desperate to heal. But no matter what her head said, no matter that common sense and every person in her life had declared her blameless in regard to the accident, her heart didn’t believe it. Her heart couldn’t fight free of the dark, heavy sadness that surrounded it.
Yet Kat sucked in a deep breath, recognizing the tiny kernel of hope sprouting to life inside her.
At that moment a quartet of little girls came skipping toward them. Blond-haired, blue-eyed girls. One of them paused, looking at Emma, and her eyes went round. She elbowed another of the girls, then pointed. The second girl gave Emma a brief glance and nodded. “You’re right. It’s just like Uncle Jake’s necklace, only his is green.” Then, the girl pointed toward the giraffe house. “Look! You can see its nose peeking out the top.”
The girls lost all interest in Emma at that. Kat watched them, her heart twisting. Lucky little girls. Susie never got to see a giraffe. Kat turned away. Tears swam in her eyes.
Emma’s encouraging smile dimmed. “Oh, Kat.”
“I’m sorry. Never mind me. Y’all had best be getting back to the reception, hadn’t you? You’re the star of the hour, Monique. People will be looking for you.”
“I’m not the star.” Monique smoothed her gray hair below the brim of her hat and batted her eyes as if she were fifty years younger. The woman never seemed to age, Kat thought. Monique lifted her dainty nose into the air. “My work is the star. Tell me, girls, have you ever seen such a delectable merman in your life? It’s just a shame they wanted me to cover up his private parts with the scales of his tail. I do such a fine penis, if I must say so myself.”
Emma and Kat looked at each other and burst out laughing. Monique winked and added, “It must be all the studying I’ve done, don’t you think?”
“You are so wicked, Monique,” Emma said.
“Thank you, dear. It’s a matter of pride with me, you realize. I believe in being free and tossing caution to the wind. I believe in living life for the joy of it. Personally, I think the two of you would be happier if you’d take after me just a little bit more.”
Emma leaned over and kissed her grandmother’s cheeks. “When I grow up, I want to be just like you.”
The sentiment caught both Kat and Monique by surprise, and they shared a curious look. Kat couldn’t recall any recent time when her eldest sister expressed a desire to be wicked. Since being widowed, Emma
remained cautious in her personal life. Except for a minor bit of talk when she’d ended her halfhearted romance with the widower, she never caused a stir or created even a hint of scandal. Emma was the good sister. So good, in fact, that she’d become downright boring. She did nothing to rock the boat.
Kat usually considered that a good thing since Kat’s own boat invariably teetered at the point of capsizing.
She opened her mouth to comment, then changed her mind when Monique expressed interest in returning to the reception. Kat eyed the wrought-iron bench across from the tiger’s cage.
“Why don’t you go on? I’ll catch up with you in a few minutes. I’d like to sit and enjoy the sunshine for a bit.”
Kat sat by herself for a time, her eyes closed, her face lifted toward the sun as she tried to soak warmth into the chill in her soul. Then, suddenly, a squeal of frustration caught her attention. Kat turned toward the sound and gasped. One of the giggling girls who had scampered by earlier now stood at the corner of the tiger’s cage. An elephant mask similar to the one Monique had been wearing lay inside the cage.
The skinny little girl was trying to squeeze between the bars.
Kat’s heart all but stopped.
In her mind’s eye, she saw a little dog dart out into the street. She heard the sound of wagon wheels clattering on the street. The soft cotton of a pinafore brushed her cold fingers.
In front of her, she watched the big cat’s eyes light up with interest and his tail sweep slowly across the cage floor. The girl inched into the cage. Susie McBride darted after the dog. Kat dashed forward, running on winged feet. Her hand reaching. Brushing Susie’s dress.
She heard a man cry out. Saw the animal rise to his feet “Susie, no!” she cried as the girl stood with one arm and leg inside the tiger’s cage, reaching…reaching…toward the mask.
The tiger growled, then crouched, ready to spring. “Mama!” the child in Kat’s memory screamed. The child before her froze. The animal leapt.
“Susie!” Kat grabbed for the girl, gripped her arm and skirt and yanked her from the cage just before the tiger slammed against the bars.
Her heart pounding, her mouth dry as dust, Kat wrapped the sobbing girl in her arms and sank to her knees, cradling the child to her bosom. “Suzanne Elizabeth McBride. What were you thinking! That animal could have killed—”
She choked off the words as reality sank in. This isn’t Susie.
Kat drew back from the child and looked at her. Really looked at her. This warm, wiggling little girl wasn’t Susie. Wasn’t her little girl. Her baby was dead. Lying cold and still in a dark grave beneath the winter snow at home.
Kat hadn’t had another chance to save her daughter, after all.
Then, someone was tugging on the little girl. A man trying to pry the child from her arms. “Belle! Oh, Jesus. Thank God. Dammit, Belle!”
The man’s voice shook. Color had bleached from his skin. His hands trembled and fear swam in his eyes. “Oh, Jesus. Lady, thank you. Thank you.”
“Help me!” the little girl, little Belle, cried out. She wrenched herself from Kat’s arms, leaving them empty. Empty.
Kat’s arms flopped to her side. Tired. She was so, so tired.
The girl threw herself into the man’s embrace. “That kitty almost eated me!”
In a flash, fury scorched through Kat’s blood like steam, flowing into her fingertips, her toes, the tips of her ears, filling places within her dead to emotion for oh, so long. She stood and rounded on the stranger. “How dare you! How dare you neglect this precious child, this gift from God! How dare you pay her such little attention while out amongst the dangers of the world! Why, you should be arrested. You should be charged with child endangerment. You, sir, should be thrown into that tiger cage yourself so that—”
The girl hiccuped, and Kat noted her wide eyes, her trembling bottom lip. Kat realized that she’d been screaming at the man while he held his child. A frightened child. Oh, Kat. Why didn‘t you think? She reached up and wiped her brow.
The man’s eyes widened. “Wait a minute,” he said. “I know you. We’ve met before. Who…Oh, now I remember. You’re Kat McBride.”
Kat finally saw past the red of her own temper and the colorless wash of the man’s complexion to the brilliant blue of his eyes. Jake Kimball.
He slowly straightened, hefting the crying child into his arms, absently patting her back in comfort.
“You.” Kat gave her head a shake. “I can’t believe it’s you…”
“Small world, isn’t it?”
Jake Kimball. If before Kat had steam in her blood, now it burned liquid fire. “You! You horrible, neglectful man. Do you know what almost happened here?”
“Yeah,” he breathed. “Whoa, that was awful. I thought my heart would stop.” He raked a hand through his hair—still long and fallen loose from its leather tie at the back of his neck. “Thank you, honey. Thank you so much. You saved my Belle. I don’t think I could have made it in time. They caught me by surprise, sneaking off the way they did. Then for Belle to end up at the tiger’s cage.” He paused, shuddered. “They may look like angels, but believe me, they’re demons in ruffled skirts.”
He crooked his head toward the right and Kat saw three more blue-eyed blondes lined up watching the scene by the tiger’s cage, their beautiful, rosy-cheeked faces filled with a combination of worry and trepidation.
“They’re yours?” Kat asked.
Kimball glanced at them, hesitated, then said, “Yes. They’re mine.”
The girl in his arms lifted her face from where it was buried against his shoulder, smiled tremulously at Kimball, then popped her thumb into her mouth. She wriggled and he set her down. She scampered off to stand with her sisters.
It wasn’t fair, Kat wanted to scream. A scoundrel, a thief and God-only-knew-what-else had four beautiful little girls warm and laughing and alive. Perfect. Life simply wasn’t fair.
Kimball shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels, his own gaze on the girls. He didn’t see her distress. Her fisted hands. Her trembling.
“I guess I shouldn’t have tried to bring them to the zoo by myself,” he mused, “but I’d promised. When a friend offered to watch the baby at home, I decided to risk it.”
A baby. Something inside of Kat twisted. What had she done to deserve this? She wanted to climb into the tiger cage herself. “There’s a baby, too?”
A glint of pride entered his eyes. “Yeah, a little boy. I’m hoping that as time goes on I’ll be able to relate to him better than I do these girls. I don’t understand them at all. I thought girls were supposed to have imaginary tea parties for their dolls. Not this group of girls. See the tall one over there? She got stuck in the chimney this morning. I had to go up onto the roof and pull her out. I think that’s the third time, maybe even the fourth, that I’ve had to chase a child off the rooftop since we’ve been in London. It’s only been a week.”
Rooftops? He allows them to climb on London rooftops?
“Anyway—” he grinned at her, a carefree, devil- may-care grin that reminded her of Rory at his most charming “—I thank you for your help. You truly saved the day.”
Kat was finding it difficult to breathe. She doubted she could force a word past the constriction in her throat. She didn’t recall that he’d been married, but it must be so. And here he’d flirted so shamelessly with her that warm winter day in Galveston! The bounder!
The girls might well be feminine versions of their father—those blue eyes were unmistakable—but she’d bet they had the same mother, too. They looked too alike to be the products of different parents. Kat recalled what she’d learned of his travels during the time before Susie had been born when she’d pursued the Sacred Heart Cross. He’d been off on some expedition of a sort all the time. Judging by the ages of his children, he must have dragged his wife with him everywhere. Had they produced a child, dumped it with a caretaker, then gone off on their treasure hunts only to do it all over agai
n? Or worse, maybe they took their children with them! Exposed them to fevers in South America. Cannibals in the South Pacific.
Tigers in the wilds of Africa.
Coaches in Fort Worth.
And he has five healthy children. Children he boldly claims not to understand or be able to control.
“So, are you here on holiday with your family?” Kimball asked, glancing around, awkwardly trying to make conversation. He had no clue that he skated on thin ice with his question. “I seem to recall that you were in a family way when you sought me out on Galveston Island. Was it a boy or a girl? Is the little one enjoying the zoo?”
Emotion churned inside of Kat, so much emotion she thought her head just might explode. Jake Kimball watched her curiously, waiting for her to respond. All Kat could manage was to give her head a quick, negative shake and whisper, “A girl.”
His smile was perplexed, the light in his eyes wary. “Well, then. I’m sure you know all about little girls and their ways. I guess I’d best get back to my own little curtain climbers. Again, my thanks to you, Miss McBride. It’s our good luck that you happened to notice what Belle was about.”
“Good luck?” Kat repeated softly, unbelievably. It was the final straw. He had kept the cross. He was supposed to have the bad luck. Instead here he was catting about the London Zoo with his four healthy daughters? It wasn’t fair! Good luck, he claimed? “I’ll show you good luck.”
With that, Kat shocked Jake Kimball’s girls, other zoological park patrons who happened to be passing by and more importantly, Jake Kimball himself when she made a fist, drew back her arm, then let loose with a roundhouse punch to the jaw.
The unexpected blow caught him off balance and knocked him flat on his behind. Kat dusted her hands and smiled.
For the first time in forever, the smile went all the way to her eyes.
LATER THAT night as Kat lay in bed aching for Susie, wishing as she did at least once every day that she could have that one horrible moment in time back to live differently, her thoughts drifted back over the events of the day. She smiled into the darkness as she recalled the picture her grandmother made wearing that silly mask. She flexed her fingers as she replayed the moment she knocked Jake Kimball flat on his derriere, and the sense of power the moment gave her flowed through her once again.
Her Scoundrel, Bad Luck Wedding #7 (Bad Luck Brides trilogy book two) Page 6