From Boss to Bridegroom

by Karen Kirst

  “But—”

  “In the meantime,” he continued, blue eyes flinty, “Lucian Beaumont and his wife have agreed to be Patrick and Lillian’s temporary guardians.”

  “I won’t stand for this,” he cried. “I’ll involve my sheriff—”

  “I’ve saved you the trouble.”

  Carl’s head reared back. “You’ve contacted Sheriff Davis?”

  Quinn’s gut was telling him the man wasn’t too happy about that bit of information.

  “I have. Now, I suggest you start on home before it gets any later.”

  With a parting glare, Carl made for the exit.

  “Oh, and Simmerly?” Shane called out.

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t attempt to come near these kids again until I’ve given you permission. Got it?”

  He stomped past Quinn, mumbling beneath his breath.

  Lucian strode after him. “I’ll give him a proper escort off my property.”

  Shane headed for the door. “I’d better make sure there’s no trouble. Lucian’s unarmed.”

  When there were just the two of them, Quinn went and sank into the chair opposite the sofa. “You all right?”

  Tension radiated from him. “I won’t let my sister go back there. I don’t care what I have to do.”

  Leaning forward, Quinn rested his elbows on his knees. “Did Carl ever hurt your sister?”

  “No.”

  “You’re certain?”

  “I know her. She swore to me that he’d never laid a hand on her, and I believe her.”

  “Good.” He looked around at the sumptuous furnishings. “You two comfortable here? Are you happy with Nicole’s family?”

  “They’re nice folks.”

  “Why the hesitation?”

  “I’m tired of accepting handouts. Being a burden. First to Nicole. Now Lucian and Megan.”

  “I’m not an expert, but the way I see it, you and your sister are fulfilling a need in that couple’s life.”

  Patrick’s brows crashed together. “What need?”

  “They don’t have children of their own. They want to share this home and the resources God has given them with others. You two being here has allowed them to do that. So, in a way, you’re an answer to prayer.”

  He could see his words took Patrick by surprise.

  Finger tracing the cushion stripes, he said, “I didn’t think of it that way.”

  “Trust me, you’re not a burden. Besides, you won’t always be on the receiving end. You’re still planning on helping me in the store, right?”

  His chest puffed out. “Absolutely.”

  Slapping his knees, Quinn stood to his feet. “See? You’ll soon be earning your own money. And ask Nicole. I’m sure she’ll tell you I’m a patient and understanding boss.”

  “Among other things.”

  Turning, he saw Nicole beside the bookshelves, hands clasped behind her back.

  “How long have you been standing there?”

  “Long enough.”

  Patrick struggled to his feet. “I’m going to speak with Lillian.”

  Nicole’s smile was tinged with compassion. “She’s in the kitchen with Mrs. Calhoun, who’s plying her with pastries. I’m sure they’ll be willing to share.”

  His uneven gait echoed down the hall as he left.

  Of their own accord, Quinn’s feet carried him over to her. “Naughty girl.” He wagged his finger. “It’s not nice to eavesdrop.”

  She kicked up a shoulder. “Patrick saw me. Besides, you weren’t divulging intimate secrets.”

  He chuckled. “Like you would’ve left if I had been.”

  “You’re right,” she cheekily agreed. “I would’ve stuck around.”

  Quinn fisted his hands to keep from reaching for her. He’d once asked himself who the real Nicole O’Malley was, confused by the cool composure she often hid behind. His question had been answered. Deep down, she was generous and brave, with a heart desperate to love and to be loved. He saw in her eyes the desire to be accepted for who and what she was.

  You can’t be the one to love her, he sternly reminded himself.

  When she laid a hand on his bare forearm, he inwardly flinched. Her skin was warm and soft. He felt like a drowning man flailing about for a safety net that wasn’t there.

  “I heard what you said to him,” she said softly. “You couldn’t have said anything more perfect.”

  “I’m right, aren’t I?” He strove for an even tone. “Your sister and Lucian needed someone to look after. Now they have two.”

  “Without your intervention, Patrick and Lillian would still be living in that shack. And I—” She worried her lower lip. “I’d still be an outsider looking in at my own family.”

  She was regarding him as if he was a hero in a storybook, as if he could fix the whole world’s problems, and it was a 180-degree change from how she used to look at him. A heady thing, that.

  “Nicole...” Her name was more of a groan than anything.

  Her fingertips lightly caressed his arm. His gaze dropped to her mouth.

  Quinn lowered his head a fraction. She sighed a sigh of surrender. Tilted her chin up.

  The front door slamming at the end of the hallway stopped him cold. Footsteps neared.

  He’d just stepped away when Lucian reached them. He took one look at their faces and smiled knowingly. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but Megan is requesting your presence in the dining room. Seems everyone left before the refreshments were served, and she doesn’t want them going to waste.”

  “We’re right behind you,” Quinn rushed to say, gesturing for Nicole to go ahead of him. Cheeks a bright pink hue, she followed her brother-in-law without a word.

  Glad for the interruption, Quinn lagged behind. Strange, he’d never before suffered this sort of weakness where a woman was concerned. It shouldn’t be this difficult to keep from kissing Nicole.

  Lord, give me strength.

  He was going to need it.

  * * *

  Two weeks later on a Sunday afternoon, Nicole left Megan’s house in a daze.

  Her first reaction was to find Quinn. How would he respond to her news?

  He wasn’t in his quarters. She paused on the stairs and surveyed the river and the woods beyond. There was no sign of him.

  Determined to speak with him, she paid the Prescotts a visit. She’d seen his new horse following their wagon after services. Maybe he was still there.

  Cole answered the door, his adorable little girl, Abby, in his arms. “You missed him. He left about half an hour ago. Is everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine. Did he say where he was going?”

  Frowning, he stroked his chin. “He did mention his property and plans for a house. You might look there.”

  “Thanks, Cole.”

  Hurrying on her way, she ignored the pinch in her toes. She was wearing her Sunday boots, and they weren’t exactly meant for traipsing all over town.

  The church’s bell tower came into view. To reach Quinn’s property, she bypassed the white clapboard building and proceeded along the lane leading away from Main Street. She walked slowly, scanning the woods for a sign of him. Unlike her homestead, there wasn’t yet a trail leading to the clearing where he’d put up his home.

  There. A flash of white. Rapid movement registered, but no sound.

  Lifting her skirts, she wound her way past lichen-encrusted tree trunks, avoiding stepping on mushrooms and watching out for exposed roots. When she reached the edge of the clearing, she froze, taken in by what she was seeing.

  Fencing foil in hand, Quinn thrust and whirled in a graceful choreography of movement, his expression focused as he battled an unseen adversary. His white fencer�
�s breeches and jacket outlined his taut physique, muscular legs supporting his weight as he parried and swung his weapon. Perspiration glistened on his forehead. His black hair was mussed, strands falling forward into his eyes.

  He was magnificent. If only she could watch him square off against a flesh-and-blood opponent.

  She stepped into the clearing, and he faltered, head whipping in her direction as he lowered the foil to his side.

  “Nicole.” Dark brows crashing together, he didn’t look particularly pleased to see her. “What are you doing here?”

  Fascinated by this sweaty, messy version of her boss, she came nearer. He was winded. That broad chest heaved as he sucked in air.

  She dared to touch the thick, white glove covering his hand. “Will you teach me to do that?”

  His throat convulsed as he visibly swallowed. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  Spinning on his heel, he crossed to a fallen log where he’d left his things and seized a towel, mopping his face with it. His hair stuck up at odd angles.

  She really, really liked this version of Quinn. She frowned, not moving from her spot. Problem was, she liked the cleaned-up version of him, too. Her news pulsed in the back of her throat, begging to be shared. Once she told him what she’d learned, everything would change. She wasn’t sure she was ready.

  Watching him remove his gloves and place the foil in its box, she said, “Why won’t you teach me? Because I’m a female?”

  “No.”

  Irritation bubbled to the surface. Ever since their exchange in the library, when Lucian had forestalled their embrace, Quinn had treated her differently. Oh, he wasn’t harsh or unkind. Yet there was a distance in his honey-colored eyes that hadn’t been there before. A reserve in his conversation that cut her to the quick.

  The hurt wouldn’t be so deep if he acted that way with everyone. But no. It was just her he’d chosen to freeze out.

  Stalking over to him, she poked his unyielding back. “I want to know why you’re acting this way. Lately, you’ve hardly spoken a word to me. You act as if you can’t stand to be in the same room with me.”

  Oh, no. Those weren’t tears clogging her throat, were they? She couldn’t cry in front of him again.

  Twisting sideways, his expression was cool. He said tightly, “I’ve spoken to you. Of course I have.”

  “About business. That’s it.” Fists on her hips, she continued, “With everyone else but me, you smile that charming smile of yours and chat about the weather. You’re the suave, too-slick Northerner you’ve always been. So tell me Quinn, darling, what exactly have I done to deserve your disdain this time?”

  He matched her stare, posture stiff and hands fisted at his sides, clearly unhappy at being questioned. For long, tense moments, he didn’t speak. Nicole struggled to maintain eye contact. Bewilderment, hurt and forbidden longing swirled inside her.

  Then, in a move so fast she gasped, he grabbed her hand and placed it over his heart.

  “Feel that?” he ground out.

  Beneath her flattened palm, his heart thundered against muscle-cloaked ribs. “Y-you’ve been exercising.”

  “Your presence is the culprit.”

  Moving away from her touch, he stepped behind her and, close but not touching, brought his arm around and took hold of her hand. His hot breath stirred her short curls, sending shivers of delight along her skin. She never wanted to move from this spot. Shameful, but true.

  “In order to teach you, I’d have to hold you like this.” His voice was low. “Do you see the problem?”

  Problem? There was a problem?

  His jaw skimmed her ear. With a sigh, he released her. Nicole’s heart fell. She hugged her middle against the yawning loneliness creeping in.

  “I’m sorry,” he said behind her. “The reason I’ve been distant is because I’m having an extraordinarily difficult time honoring my promise to you.”

  She whirled. “What promise?”

  A muscle jumped in his jaw. “I gave you my word I’d provide a professional environment for you. You shouldn’t have to worry whether or not you’re safe from my advances.”

  Before she could form a coherent reply—and honestly, was begging him to break his word and take her in his arms the right thing to do?—he continued on.

  “I’m drawn to you, Nicole. That’s no surprise. It would be very wrong of me to kiss you again when we both know we’re not meant for each other. My world is here. I’m convinced this is where God wants me.” A glimmer of indefinable emotion shimmered in the brown depths. “And you’re meant to follow your dream.”

  His words arrowed through her, sharp and honest and poignant.

  He was a good, good man. Ever her protector, even from this invisible force pulling them together.

  “I have to sit down.”

  He followed her to the log, where she sat and stared at his black boot tips amidst a smattering of blue, purple and orange wildflowers. The July air was sweltering, and yet her bones were brittle with cold.

  “You won’t have to endure my presence very much longer.”

  He waited, unspeaking, until she lifted her gaze. He’d gone very still.

  “Shane dropped by Megan and Lucian’s after lunch with some news. It appears the siblings’ maternal grandfather has been searching for them. He’d lost contact with their mother in recent years and, when he learned of her passing, hired a detective to find them. The detective paid a visit to Carl’s and let slip that they were due a substantial inheritance.”

  Brows rising, he dropped onto the knobby log next to her. “Their mother had money?”

  “She kept it a secret. Patrick and Lillian were dumbfounded when they heard the news.”

  “That’s why Carl was desperate to get them back. He planned to get his hands on the money.”

  “The grandfather also hired a lawyer, who contacted Carl and demanded to see the siblings before granting him access to it.”

  Quinn shook his head in disbelief. “Where is he now?”

  “The sheriff there has him in custody while he investigates the murder. The grandfather is planning to travel to Gatlinburg. I’m not sure if he’ll try and take them east with him or not.”

  She frowned, recalling Megan’s troubled features. Her sister had grown close to the siblings in a short amount of time, as had Lucian. They would be devastated if they left.

  “I hope he lets them decide their future. They’ve been through a lot.” He studied her profile. “So what has this to do with your leaving?”

  “Patrick and Lillian insisted they repay me for the supplies. They wouldn’t be dissuaded, no matter how much I argued.” She tilted her head to return his regard. “With that money, I’ll have enough to go ahead with my plans.”

  He shoved his fingers through his unkempt hair, messing it further. “When?”

  “Caleb offered to take me next week to scout out potential shop locations. Once I’ve decided on one, we’ll return to pack up my things. I suppose the timing depends on when the shop becomes available.”

  Quinn’s expression growing earnest, he said, “You’ve worked hard for this, Nicole. You deserve to get what you want. I’m happy for you.”

  She drummed up a smile. He was encouraging her to go. What did she expect? That he’d beg her to stay? She didn’t want that...did she?

  No, of course not. This was her much-thought-about future. The future she’d plotted and planned and coordinated in her mind for years. The one she’d slaved to be able to afford.

  “I’m sorry I can’t give you an exact date. If you need for me to go ahead and quit so that you can hire someone else, I will.”

  “That’s not necessary.” He casually brushed off her suggestion, standing to his feet and gathering his things. “I’ll put the word out that I’l
l need a new assistant soon, but that the start date hasn’t been determined. I’ve already promised Patrick he could come in on the days he feels up to it. He’ll be my part-time help.”

  His nonchalant attitude stung. Her leaving didn’t come as a shock to him. Still, expressing a bit of regret couldn’t hurt, could it? Something like, I’ll miss you, Duchess. Or, I’m not sure how I’ll ever find anyone to replace you.

  Don’t be absurd. He’s clearly fine with my imminent departure.

  She’d promised herself she’d leave town with her whole heart intact. She had a sinking suspicion she’d failed to keep that promise.

  Chapter Twenty

  Thunder rumbled in the distance, and Alice frowned at the darkening sky outside the kitchen window. “Maybe you should stay home.”

  Nicole laid the sandwich in her lunch pail and covered it with a cloth. “I can’t. Quinn needs me. If I hurry, I’m sure I can reach the mercantile before it starts raining.”

  “You’re going to miss that young man, aren’t you?”

  “I’m going to miss a lot of people,” she said over a lump in her throat, impulsively going and hugging her mother.

  Last night, her mother had invited Nicole into her room, where she’d taken out a small wooden box containing tintypes of various family members. Nicole had lingered over the portraits of her father, especially, and his mother. Alice had smiled fondly. “You’re the exact likeness of Grandmother O’Malley,” she’d said.

  The resemblance was undeniable. She’d died when Nicole was very young, so she didn’t remember her. Alice had offered to let Nicole keep the tintype.

  She eased out of the embrace, but not before she glimpsed her mother’s concern.

  “You don’t seem as excited about this move as I thought you’d be. Is something bothering you?”

  “Everything is happening really fast, that’s all.”

  In a few short days, she’d be in Knoxville searching for the perfect spot to open her boutique, as well as a place to live. Once her choices had been made, she’d have to say goodbye to her family and friends. She wouldn’t be around to see Patrick’s progress or visit with Lillian. No more snuggling with Victoria.