Sarah invited them to sit in the living room. “I’ll get some refreshments.” She smoothed her dress again as she went into the kitchen. Did her appearance tell others what she and Nate had done? She’d die of embarrassment if anyone else knew.
Maria met her with a tray of tea and slices of chocolate cake left from dinner. Sarah thanked her as she took the tray and retraced her steps to where she’d left the two men. Nate sat in an armchair by the fireplace looking as if he owned the world. He smiled as she came in, jumped up, and took the tray from her. Peter’s rigid posture kept him on the edge of the sofa, his face stiff with disapproval.
Nate placed the tray on a table and Sarah prepared to serve. A herd of small boys raced across the foyer. Luke and Joe left the others to venture into the living room. They stood near Nate and stared openly at Peter.
“Would you boys ask Cindy to come here for a minute, please, and come back with her?” Sarah asked.
She served the men while she waited for the children.
The boys soon returned with Cindy in tow. Apparently the girls had been playing dress up. Cindy wore an old dress of Pearl’s and carried a parasol. A long feather bobbled over the brim of the large-brimmed bonnet tied to her head. Her feet were poked into a pair of Sarah’s shoes, clumping as she dragged them to keep the shoes from falling off.
“Peter, this is Cindy, Luke, and Joe. Children, this is Mr. Dorfmeyer. He manages the bank in town.”
Cindy curtsied and each of the boys gave a little bow. Curiosity filled their faces as they glanced from Peter to Nate and back to Sarah. Cindy lifted the front of her skirts and clopped regally to Nate, her dress hem dragging behind her.
“Hello, Princess Cindy,” he said as she climbed onto his lap and snuggled against him.
She giggled. “You always call me that, but we’re playing house. I’m the mother. Katie and Beth have to mind what I say.”
Sarah smiled at them, bursting with pride at their behavior. She ruffled each boy’s hair and walked to lift Cindy from Nate’s knee. She gave her a kiss on the cheek when she set her down. “Thank you for coming to meet Mr. Dorfmeyer. You may run along and play now.”
The boys rushed outside and Cindy clomped toward her room to rejoin Katie and Beth.
Peter’s nose wrinkled in distaste. “More of your students, I suppose?”
Sarah picked up her teacup. “Oh, no. Those children are mine.” How wonderful to be able to say those words.
“Yours?” he stammered. “That’s impossible.”
“I found them on their own in Memphis and brought them here with me. In fact, Mr. Barton assisted me. I’m adopting them.”
“That’s hardly proper. I mean, it was bad enough you’ve built that school and insist on teaching those ragamuffin children there.” His face had grown red and he looked about to suffer apoplexy.
Sarah paused, her cup halfway to her lips, then returned the cup and saucer to the table. “I beg your pardon. What do you mean, ‘bad enough’ I built my school?”
She had suspected his intolerance for those less fortunate than himself, but Peter had never been so open about it before. How could a man who’d had all the advantages of life begrudge any child the opportunity to read and write? Many of her friends thought Peter handsome. For the first time, Sarah noticed Peter’s brown eyes were a bit too close together and his eyebrows rode like furry caterpillars across his brow.
“Well, really, Sarah.” Peter shrugged. “It’s not as if you’re helping them. After all, teaching them to read and write only raises false expectations for those people.”
Sarah fought her temper, but it boiled inside her. Who did Peter think he was, talking about “ragamuffins” and “those people” as if they were of no consequence? She believed every person, no matter how destitute, had the same rights. How could Peter talk as if the poor were somehow less human than those more fortunate in society?
Nate stiffened, but said nothing. He regarded Peter as he might an annoying insect just before he gave it a swat.
With an even voice belying her inner turmoil, she asked, “What sort of false expectations, may I ask? Do you think reading, being aware of the world around them, is somehow hindering their well being? Do you mean to imply that the ability to count money so they’re not cheated is wasted?”
She watched Peter now, examining his appearance. He definitely had a weak chin. Worse, she feared he had no compassion. She almost felt sorry for anyone so shallow and with so little feeling for his fellow man. Almost.
Peter pursed his lips and poked his nose in the air. “Well, really, my dear, they’re hardly likely to use those skills, now are they? The boys will become ranch hands or some such and the girls will clean their own houses or someone else’s and have a dozen children. Never have enough money to bother counting.”
“You don’t know that. And what if it’s true? School will enrich them in ways that will remain with them throughout their lives. You don’t even know the children at my school.” To her knowledge, he’d never even been in the schoolyard.
“Nor do I wish to. And now you’ve brought children you know nothing about into your home. It’s commendable for you to feel sorry for them, my dear, but surely you don’t intend to carry through with this adoption thing?” He speared a bit of cake with his fork as if he discussed the weather, not lives.
“I’ve already asked Gabe to draw up whatever legal papers are necessary. The process will soon be complete.” She wanted to say more, wanted to slap that pompous smirk from his face, but kept her anger in control. After all, this man was a guest.
Peter’s face turned red and he set down his plate. “That simply won’t do. No, it won’t do at all. Hardly fitting for a woman of your station. You must keep in mind the man you marry will want his own children, not a group of orphans bred in who knows what circumstances.
Nate stood and opened his mouth to speak, but Sarah interrupted. “The man I marry will welcome my children, and these three are my children.”
Peter dusted a crumb from his cuff. “They hardly fit in with a banker’s image,” he spoke as if he addressed a simple child. “Now, don’t worry your pretty head about it, my dear. Leave it all to me. We can place them in a good home. You’ll soon see it’s best for everyone.”
Fury seized control of her, a ferocious anger so great she found it hard not to strike Peter. He talked of the lives of her children as if he were placing a litter of kittens.
She stood, her hands on her hips. “Of all the nerve! For your information, they are in a good home. Peter Dorfmeyer, you are a pompous ass! Leave this house now and do not return.”
Peter’s face registered shock and he spluttered, “My dear, you don’t know what you’re saying. Why, with your family connections and mine, we’d make a highly suitable union.” He shot Nate a seething glare. “It’s obvious you’ve been unduly influenced by outsiders. You’ll come to your senses in time.”
“Out!” she yelled and pointed to the door.
Nate stepped forward. The look on his face made it obvious he intended to hasten Peter’s departure.
Peter picked up his hat and crossed the flagstone floor. He turned and pointed at Nate. “You haven’t heard the last of me, Barton.” He turned back and stomped out.
Nate followed him to the door and closed it firmly behind Peter’s retreating figure. Sarah collapsed back onto her chair. Since her money was in his bank, the chances of her escaping an encounter with Peter were nonexistent. She’d avoid him whenever possible, though, from now on. She might even move her funds.
Nate rejoined her and sat in the chair facing hers. He smiled and she saw the tenderness of understanding reflected in his gaze. “Lovely visit, wouldn’t you say?”
His simple words dissolved her anger and she couldn’t suppress a giggle. “Oh, my stars. I sent him off with a flea in his ear, didn’t I? I shouldn’t be surprised by his attitude and shouldn’t have let it affect me. He’s tried to tell me what to think and how to act since he st
arted calling on me.”
She met his look and her voice softened. “I never invited him to call, never even invited him to come again.”
“Seems to feel he’s doing you a favor,” Nate said.
She giggled again. “Maybe he feels differently now. He’ll probably not even speak to me in the future.”
“I doubt his kind discourages that easily,” Nate said.
Drake had accompanied Pearl to visit a patient an hour’s ride away and they weren’t expected back until late. Fiona presided over the games in Cindy’s room. Sarah looked around to make sure no other household members overheard. She took a deep breath, but couldn’t meet his gaze.
Twisting at a pleat in her skirt she forced herself to look up at him. “Nate, about what happened by the river—“
He leaned forward and placed a finger to her lips. “Don’t spoil it by telling me you’re sorry.”
She looked at her hands, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. “No, um, not exactly. It’s just that, well, I’ve never done anything like that before.”
“I didn’t for a minute think you had,” he said. He took both of her hands in his. His strong hands cradled hers gently and his touch sent her senses reeling again.
“Sarah, you’re a beautiful and intelligent woman. I enjoy being with you. That hasn’t changed.”
She raised her gaze to meet his mesmerizing, molten eyes. He hadn’t said he cared for her, just that he enjoyed being with her. Did he have any regard for her, or was she just a convenient diversion?
She said, “I was afraid you might, well, you might think me a loose woman.”
Storm came into the room and looked from one to the other. His eyes narrowed in speculation and his jaw clenched. Nate dropped her hands and scooted back in his chair.
Sarah felt her face flush. Her brother might be quiet, but he missed nothing that went on around him. “I didn’t know you were back from town.” Oh, dear, that sounded bad, as if it made a difference in how she acted.
“Came in the back.” His face masked his thoughts, but Storm continued to look from Nate to Sarah. “Saw Peter riding away. Short visit?”
“He made some very insulting comments about Luke and Joe and Cindy.” Sarah sighed and stood to face her brother. “You might as well know. I lost my temper and asked him to leave.”
Nate rose also and stood at Sarah’s side. She appreciated the gesture of support.
“Your business, not mine,” Storm said. “Couldn’t understand why you let him call here in the first place.”
Astonished, Sarah answered, “You never told me.”
Storm shrugged. “Like I said, none of my business.” He slapped his leg with his hat a couple of times before he added, “Say, Nate, a few of the boys are meeting in the bunkhouse now to play cards. Come on and join us.”
Nate hesitated, then nodded to Sarah. “Will you excuse me?”
“Yes. Of course. It’s time for me to round up all the children and herd them off to bed. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”
***
Nate knew a summons when he heard one, and made no mistake about Storm’s invitation. Storm had wanted to separate Nate from Sarah and it worked. Nate had followed him to the bunkhouse without complaint. No use bucking against strength, and Storm definitely had the power here.
There was a card game all right. Nate’s bandaged hands made play more difficult, especially with his fingers tender from burst blisters, but his past training didn’t let him down. Careful not to win too often or take much from any individual, he remained several dollars ahead all evening. He wanted no more suspicions raised regarding him or his background.
No need to cheat with this crowd. His mind kept perfect record of who played what cards. An eager young kid chewed his lip when he had a good hand, another man tapped a finger on the table. In the first hour Nate picked up the signals from each player except one. Only Storm masked his thoughts to the world. Nate would figure him out, too, given time.
He tossed in four nines and let the kid win with three jacks. Nate caught a flicker of surprise in Storm’s purple-blue eyes. So, Storm kept track of the cards as well. Good to know, but there was no proof he’d let the kid win, because the cards were scooped up and shuffled immediately. Nate had won enough, especially from a couple of the men he didn’t care for. No point calling attention to his skill in games of chance.
Thinking of chance, being here was taking a big one. He knew the Kincaids had no wish to welcome a newcomer into their fold, especially in regard to Sarah. From his viewpoint, they were all overprotective of her. He had to admit she needed their protection where he was concerned and it rankled. Why hadn’t they protected her from that arrogant Dorfmeyer?
Remembering Dorfmeyer brought back the calamity barely avoided when the man arrived. Damn, what had Nate been thinking? If Sarah hadn’t heard that rig coming, they would have been compromised. By now he’d be on his way to a wedding with a shotgun at his back.
Would that be so bad? The thought hit him like a jolt of lightning. The misery of working as a ranch hand would definitely be softened with Sarah and the children to welcome him home each day. If he survived the hellish days, the nights would be heaven.
Why assume he would be working as a ranch hand, though? What would he do to support a wife and three children? Maybe he could open a saloon in town. Sure, as if Sarah would want a saloonkeeper for a husband.
He gave himself a mental kick in the rear. What a sap he was to even think about living here with Sarah and the children. He could never fit in, never make it in her world. Hell, she didn’t even know his real name. Better to enjoy Miss Sugar-and- Spice’s company while it lasted, take what he could, and get out. She’d be better off without the likes of him—as long as she avoided that Dorfmeyer jerk.
With the Kincaid’s money in Dorfmeyer’s bank, the man knew to a penny how much this clan had. Probably a fortune. Desirable as Sarah was, Nate figured a large part of Dorfmeyer’s pursuit of her had to do with her money. And how does that make him different from you, he asked?
Damn, he hated to put himself in the same category with the likes of that ass Dorfmeyer. Nate refused to admit his immediate hatred of Dorfmeyer had anything to do with jealousy. The man had no redeeming qualities except a steady job.
He tossed in his hand and waited for the next round to be dealt. Storm’s stoic expression didn’t fool Nate. The man watched Nate’s every move, knew when he won and lost. Nate had the eerie feeling Storm could see into his head and read his mind. Since Storm hadn’t shot him yet, that couldn’t be true, but he couldn’t shake the sensation.
Nate joked with the men, had a couple of drinks, and played hail-fellow-well-met. When they ribbed him about being a tenderfoot, he joked with them. He neither said nor did anything to cause censure from anyone. Even when he won, he did so graciously. The men seemed to accept him, except for Storm.
Sarah’s brother gave away nothing of his thoughts, but kept an invisible barrier between them. Nate would have liked Storm to extend the camaraderie offered by the other men. When they had worked together the past two days, Storm was friendly, polite, and even considerate. Something was lacking in him, though. Trust, respect, friendship, maybe all of those. As so often throughout his twenty-six years, Nate had the feeling he didn’t measure up. Might never meet the standard. Aw hell, what did he care? He was leaving this burg in a few weeks anyway.
***
Sarah closed the door on the room Luke and Joe shared and walked down the hall to her own chamber. She rushed to her mirror and examined her face. No, she didn’t look different. She’d been certain anyone could look at her and know she had let a man take liberties. A blush spread across her face as she recalled the episode by the river.
My stars, she had let him touch her...there. Not just let him, had urged him to continue. And in the open, where anyone might have seen them. What on earth had come over her?
Bliss, that’s what. Wonderful, exhilarating rapture. She’d never ex
perienced those sensations, hadn’t known they existed. Her fingers touched her lips and she longed for his kiss. She hugged herself and recalled his strong arms embracing her, hands caressing her.
All her life she’d tried to do what was expected of her, to be perfect. Her every action balanced carefully had made her feel as if she walked on a circus tightwire. She had tried to please all her family and make them proud of her. She’d even been nice to Pearl’s awful Granny while she’d lived.
For the past seven years she’d dressed as Aunt Lily insisted, helped Pearl with her medicines and patients, taught the children of Drake’s ranch hands, sang in the church choir, learned the piano, served on community and church committees. She did whatever she could to make life tranquil, peaceful, and meaningful for those around her. True, she’d refused to go back east to school as Aunt Lily had wanted, but that had been fine with the rest of the family. Never before had she flaunted propriety as she had this evening.
In a fit of pique she had ordered Peter to leave and not return. What would Pearl say? My stars, the man was one of the town’s leading citizens! Just the same, Sarah would never welcome him in this house again. How could she have tolerated his jibes and pokes at her school, at Pearl’s medicines, at her way of life this long? If she was so undesirable, why did he come to call in the first place?
All the family had their money deposited in the bank Peter had taken over from his uncle, though the uncle retained ownership. It was the money that prompted Peter’s interest. His callous, unfeeling attitude toward the children ruined him for her. In the future, she’d find it hard even to be civil to him.
Wondering what had come over her of late, she prepared for bed. She still wanted respect and admiration from her family and friends, yet she had risked it all to explore the unknown with Nate. Knowing she acted foolishly hadn’t stopped her. In truth, her body responded to him as if it was out of her control. There was no blaming him, though she knew her family would see the situation differently. Nate responded as she had, as if he, too, couldn’t help himself.
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