An Unlikely Mother
Page 1
Bound by a Child
Hoping to overcome her reputation as Leadville, Colorado’s biggest gossip, wealthy socialite Flora Montgomery offers to help a miner care for an abandoned child. But her growing affection for the sweet boy’s handsome rescuer could be a problem. Especially since her parents insist she must marry for money.
Undercover mine owner George Baxter is digging himself into a dilemma. The once-spoiled Flora has become a delightful, generous woman, and she’ll be devastated by his deception. Yet if he can’t discover who’s sabotaging the mine, George will lose any chance of making a home for Flora and Pierre. Can the little boy who holds both their hearts help them lay claim to a new dream of family?
“He wants me to sing, doesn’t he?”
George looked over at Flora, who smiled broadly.
“It would appear so.” She gave the little boy an affectionate look and, once again, George was struck by how readily she opened her heart to a child who needed it.
Pierre tugged at his hand. “J’enseigne!”
George looked at Flora for translation.
“He said he will teach you.” Her words came out with a slight giggle, like she found the prospect delightful.
Fortunately, almost every child probably knew the familiar folk song, or at least that was what George thought. “I don’t sing as well as you, but I think I can manage.”
He began to sing the first few bars, then Flora and Pierre joined in.
Maybe it was wrong of him to think so, but as they strolled through the crowded area of the mine, holding hands with Pierre, who was exuberantly swinging his arms, probably in hope that they’d pick him up and swing him between them again, this felt like everything he’d always hoped for in a family of his own.
Danica Favorite loves the adventure of living a creative life. She loves to explore the depths of human nature and follow people on the journey to happily-ever-after. Though the journey is often bumpy, those bumps refine imperfect characters as they live the life God created them for. Oops, that just spoiled the ending of Danica’s stories. Then again, getting there is all the fun. Find her at danicafavorite.com.
Books by Danica Favorite
Love Inspired Historical
Rocky Mountain Dreams
The Lawman’s Redemption
Shotgun Marriage
The Nanny’s Little Matchmakers
For the Sake of the Children
An Unlikely Mother
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DANICA FAVORITE
An Unlikely Mother
I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through Him who gives me strength.
—Philippians 4:11–13
The Harlequin.com online community has been a part of my writing journey since day one. You guys are not just my job, but a second family, and I love you all dearly. I’ve been waiting to write the perfect book that encapsulates what a precious part of my journey you’ve been, but I’ve finally come to the conclusion that I’d need at least a thousand books to tell each of the very wonderful stories I’ve gotten to be a part of. Thank you all for the role you play in my life, each other’s lives and in the books you’ve brought and will bring to the world.
And, Rae, your time is coming!
Keep the faith. Love you!
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Epilogue
Dear Reader
Excerpt from The Marshal’s Mission by Anna Zogg
Chapter One
Leadville, Colorado, 1883
Stark raving mad. If Flora Montgomery had to describe herself in this latest scheme, that’s what she would say she was. Oh, she’d done some crazy things in the past. Horrible things. But nothing so insane as agreeing to spend the summer in a mining camp helping the less fortunate.
Like everything else in her life, it had seemed like a good idea at the time.
The baby’s wail pierced her ears again.
She stared at the little creature in her arms. “I’m sorry. They should have asked someone else to hold you. I’ve never held a baby before, and I know I’m doing a terrible job, but could you please have a little mercy?”
Unfortunately, her words only served to send more tears rolling down the baby’s cheeks, making Flora want to cry herself. Please, Lord, I know I’ve done a lot of bad things in my life, but surely this poor child doesn’t deserve to suffer because of it.
Why had the other women thought that leaving Flora alone with a baby was a good idea? When they’d gone to unload a wagon, Mrs. Willoughby handed her this baby and told her to stay at the cabin with her.
Flora sighed. It wasn’t that they’d thought having her take care of a baby was a good idea, but that none of them wanted to be stuck with Flora. Which left Flora here with this tiny creature she knew nothing about.
Surely the other ladies would return soon.
Glancing down the well-worn path the women had taken only left Flora feeling more miserable. If they returned and saw what a terrible job she was doing in minding the baby, they’d have one more crime to throw at her feet.
That was the trouble with being the most hated woman in town. Once people found an excuse to hate you, it seemed everything else only served to validate that opinion. She should know. Not too long ago, Flora’s words were the ones the women hung on, her opinions dictating everyone else’s place in society. But she had been cruel in her judgments of others, shunning women who were now the ones everyone else looked up to. When Flora had hurt one too many people with her actions, they’d turned on her. And rightly so. But no matter how many times Flora said she was sorry, or tried to show that she’d changed, it didn’t seem to make a difference.
How, then, was Flora supposed to redeem herself?
Surely it wasn’t impossible. After all, Emma Jane Jackson, once tormented for being poor, uncomely and awkward, was now one of the most respected women in their group, married to one of the handsomest, wealthiest men in town. A man Flora had once hoped to marry. Virtue over beauty. Apparently that was what men valued in women these days. And since Flora had little of the former, and a great deal of the latter, she’d finally begun to accept that unless she changed her ways, she’d never find a husband of her own.
Since the baby had yet to cease its crying, Flora walked toward the nearby stream. Maybe the sound of water would soothe the poor thing. Not finding a husband was the least of Flora’s worries. After all, a husband meant children, and clearly, from the way this one carried on, Flora would make a terrible mother.
Prior to the great social revoluti
on in Leadville, Flora would have been confident in the idea of motherhood; after all, she would hire the finest nanny from New York, or London or perhaps even Paris. But now, the women in her circle all chose to raise their children themselves, bringing even the smallest babies to help out at the mission, tied around them in some sort of apparatus to hold them against their bodies, leaving the women’s hands free to work.
One more reason Flora didn’t fit in. She’d had a nanny growing up, as did all the girls she’d known, but she’d also had no siblings, no babies to tend. Which was why she had no idea what to do with the squalling creature in her arms.
“Is everything all right, ma’am?” A miner, dressed in work clothes that were shabby but clean, approached.
“I...” Flora looked down at the baby. “I don’t know what’s wrong with her.”
The man reached for the child. “Let me see what I can do. I’ve been told I have a way with little ones.”
Glancing toward the path the women had taken, Flora’s stomach dipped. What would the other women say if she handed the baby over to a strange man? It didn’t seem possible that they could hate her any more, but they always seemed to find a way.
“I shouldn’t,” Flora said, trying to ignore the way the baby’s face turned redder and redder. “Her mother might not like me letting a stranger take her.”
Smiling, the man took a step toward her. “A wise decision. I’m...” He paused. “George. George, uh...Baxter.”
The man, George, looked nervous. Flora had learned that many people came to these parts to escape a past they were ashamed of. Unfortunately, when one’s past was in a place where everyone else came to hide, there was no hiding it.
So this George Baxter, probably not his real name, well, Flora wasn’t going to judge his secrets. But she wasn’t going to simply hand him someone else’s baby, either.
Even if she wasn’t sure her ears would ever recover from the high-pitched screaming.
“Flora Montgomery. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Baxter. I do appreciate your offer, but I’m afraid it wouldn’t be proper.”
Another smile filled his face. “Could I make a suggestion, then?”
“It would be most welcome. I’m sure it couldn’t hurt at this point.” Flora sighed, looking at the wailing baby once more.
“You’re holding her wrong,” George said. “Cradle her gently next to you, like so.”
He bent down and picked up a large stick and demonstrated.
Flora shook her head. “I tried that, and the baby cried even worse.”
“Does she need to uh...” George shifted, looking more uncomfortable than he had at saying his name. “...belch?”
She wasn’t allowed to say that word in polite company. Let alone discuss those particular things with a man. But she did need to find a way to get the baby to quiet down.
“How am I supposed to know that? The baby doesn’t talk.”
If he sensed her irritation, he didn’t show it. His face held a look of kindness and gentleness. Patience. The kind of man Flora would like to get to know, were he not so far outside her social station. A pity, since the harder Flora had worked on improving her character, the less appealing those in her social station seemed to be.
Eyes twinkling, George held the stick to his shoulder. “Put the baby against your shoulder, like so, and gently pat her back.”
George reached forward and tapped her arm lightly. “Like this.”
What sort of man would be so...kind...as to go so far to help a woman in distress when it was a matter in which most men would never be involved?
Flora had seen mothers pat their babies like that. She imitated the action. The baby obliged by letting out a large belch. Then another.
And then she promptly emptied the contents of her stomach on one of Flora’s best dresses.
But at least she finally stopped crying.
With a smile, George untied the kerchief from around his neck and handed it to her. “I’m sorry. I should have warned you. You don’t know anything about babies, do you?”
“I’ve never held a baby in my life.” Flora brushed at the mess with the handkerchief with one hand, while trying to balance the now-happy, squirming baby with the other.
The handkerchief did little to mop up the mess. No wonder so many of the women of her acquaintance wore such unsightly aprons. At least their dresses could be salvaged. “Do they all expel such...”
George chuckled, and reached for the baby again. She shouldn’t let him, but she had no idea how she was supposed to not drop the baby and get the foul-smelling liquid off herself. How did other women manage? Surely it wouldn’t hurt to let this man help her for just a moment. If he didn’t look like a miner, she’d think him a gentleman for sure. Hadn’t he already demonstrated a level of civility that went beyond what most people would do?
Giving her a charming smile as she relinquished the baby, he said, “I believe they do. Though this little one seemed to be more enthusiastic in her efforts.”
Flora used her now-free hand to finish cleaning herself off, but it seemed like she was only making a bigger mess of things.
“There’s water in my canteen.” George pointed to an object resting against a tree. “Feel free to use it all. The creek’s not too far.”
So many rules of propriety were being breached in this situation. But as Flora used the water to cleanse the remaining mess, she found she honestly didn’t care. With only the water and handkerchief to clean up, she knew she was doing a fair job, at best.
Flora watched as George cuddled the baby, chattering at her and pointing to things. She would never have imagined that a man would be so good with a baby. She shook her head. One more reason she shouldn’t judge by appearances. The same way people would have assumed that as a woman, Flora would know what to do with one.
“Do you have children of your own?” Flora asked, handing him back the handkerchief.
“No.” George gave her a warm smile, and for the first time, she realized that the man was quite handsome, indeed. He had blue eyes that crinkled at the edges, and though his dark brown hair was unruly, she found the way it curled at his collar quite attractive. Even the stubble on his chin made him seem...well, masculine, adding to his charm.
“But I have a nephew, and I’ve always gotten on with children. Even now, when I attend church, no matter where I go, the children seem to congregate around me.”
He tickled the baby under her chin, making her giggle. “Babies aren’t so hard, really. They just need to know that they’re safe and loved. The reason you’re having so much trouble is that you’re nervous. Babies can sense that.”
Flora sighed, watching how comfortable he was with the baby in his arms. “I suppose. I just don’t think she likes me much. Most people don’t.”
The sound of chatter in the distance reminded Flora of her duty, and that the returning women would not appreciate the fact that she’d allowed a strange man to hold the baby.
“Thank you for your assistance,” Flora said, holding out her hands. “I should take her now.”
“You are most welcome, Flora Montgomery,” he said softly, his breath a whisper on her cheek as he placed the baby in her arms. “And if it’s any consolation, I like you just fine.”
Her face heated as she shifted the baby and stepped away. Unfortunately, it hadn’t been soon enough for the returning women.
“Flora Montgomery! How dare you canoodle with a strange man while watching my precious Ethel!” Mrs. Willoughby marched up to her and snatched the baby out of her arms.
“I didn’t—” Flora couldn’t finish her sentence as her gaze drifted to the other women standing around, staring at her like she was some fallen woman.
Was this how others had felt when Flora had lashed out at them for what Flora had considered improper behav
ior? Oh, how she wished she could go back and change the way she’d reacted to situations she’d known nothing about. Accuse first and make apologies never, that had been the way of things. How wrong she’d been.
“Ma’am, I can assure you, there was nothing improper between myself and Miss Montgomery. Little Ethel had a slight accident on Miss Montgomery’s shoulder, and I was helping her clean up the mess.” He held up his soiled handkerchief, as though proving his case.
“Ethel was ill?” Horror flashed across Mrs. Willoughby’s face as she examined the baby.
Flora was nearly concerned herself, except for George’s chuckle.
“I’m sure it’s no cause to worry, ma’am. Looked to be a typical baby spit-up to me. Just a lot of it.”
“And what are you, a doctor?” Mrs. Willoughby glared at him. At the negative shake of his head, she turned and marched to the cabin.
Feeling the gazes of the others strongly upon her, Flora turned to him and smiled. “Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Baxter. Your kindness is much appreciated, and I will remember it always. I should get back to work. After all, that’s why I came.”
She directed that last comment at the other women, forcing a smile despite the sinking feeling that, with even this small task, she’d once again failed to meet their standards.
George smiled at her. It was a shame the man was a miner. He’d been kind, helpful and he was the first man in a long time who’d treated her like she was anything but the disappointment everyone else saw her as. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips, despite her less than joyous mood. He was also quite pleasant to look at.
But even if they could find something in common, her family and the rest of society would never approve of her marrying someone so far removed from their world.
Still, it had been nice to have someone treat her like a human being for a change. If only she could get the rest of society to do the same.
* * *
Flora Montgomery. As he lived and breathed. George Baxter Bellingham would never have expected to run into her in the mining camp. For a moment, he’d been afraid his former nemesis would recognize him, but then he remembered that he was no longer the pudgy little boy all the kids tormented. Besides, Flora had moved from Denver to Leadville several years ago, and they hadn’t seen each other since. Part of him felt bad for deceiving her about his identity, but he hadn’t exactly lied. He’d given her his first and middle names, but not his last. Fortunately, his middle name was his mother’s maiden name, so it sounded like a real name.