Her Scoundrel

by Geralyn Dawson

  Mollified, Trace nodded. “I’ll see about getting the house this afternoon. First, though…” He folded his arms and scowled. “I want you to tell me what the hell got into Emma?”

  WITH THE paperwork for her new home folded neatly into her purse and her children wearing clean clothes and smiles at the prospect of another delicious sweet, Kat opened the door of Indulgences and spied a new employee behind the counter. This could be fun.

  She set her mouth in a stern frown and said, “Hello. I understand the owner of this establishment is in for an hour today?”

  The young woman nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Would you please tell her Mrs. Kimball and her five children are here to complain about the quality of her chocolate?”

  The employee’s brows winged up and her chin dropped. “Uh, well, um, she’s having lunch right now. With the sheriff and his deputy.”

  That’s even better. “I don’t mind interrupting her meal. Please tell her I’m here. It’s Mrs. Kimball.”

  The woman scurried into the back room, and seconds later Kat’s sister emerged with a smile on her face and insult in her eyes. Her gaze swept over the children, then landed on Kat. Shock chased the anger away. She clapped a hand against her mouth and let out a squeal. “Oh, my heavens. Kat?”

  Kat heard chairs scraping in the back room and Luke Garrett and his deputy, Marcus Wagoner, rushed to the rescue as Kat smiled and said, “I hear you’ve added two new members to the family. I’m dying to meet them, but guess what? I’ve got you beat. Mari, I want you to meet my children.”

  Mari shook her head in confusion as she stared at the children, her gaze lingering on the toddler in Kat’s arms. “Your children?”

  “I’ve remarried, Maribeth. These are my daughters, Miranda, Theresa, Belle and Caroline Barrett. And this is my son, Robert Barrett, Marquess of Harrington.”

  One of the men bumped a table, and a coffee cup crashed to the floor. “It wasn’t us,” Belle was quick to say.

  “Married?” Mari asked. “You married a marquess?”

  “Actually, I married a pirate. Remember Jake Kimball?”

  Her sister blinked. “The man who bought the Sacred Heart Cross from Rory?”

  “That’s him. He stole my necklace, too.”

  “Your necklace!” Maribeth grabbed the back of a chair and steadied herself. “My-oh-my-oh-my. I can’t wait to hear this story. Emma didn’t mention any of this in her letter.”

  “Can we have a piece of candy now, please?” Theresa asked, oblivious to the undercurrents in the room as her stare locked on the candy case.

  Luke Garrett stepped up to Kat, bent and kissed her cheek. “Welcome home, sunshine. We’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too, Luke.”

  “That’s a handsome fellow in your arms. Of course, McBride women always pick the good-lookin’ ones.”

  Theresa said, “Aunt Kat? That cherry crème I had earlier was the best thing I ever tasted.”

  Mari’s curious gaze silently asked, Aunt?

  “Jake assumed guardianship after they lost their parents,” Kat explained. “Are the babies in back, Mari? I’m so anxious to see them.”

  Mari shook her head. “Aunt Claire and Uncle Tye commandeered them. There’s a merchants’ society luncheon today and they wanted to show off my boys. They should be back soon, though.”

  “Aunt Kat?” Theresa tugged Kat’s sleeve. “The cherry crème?”

  Luke took charge. “C’mere, girls. Uncle Luke will take care of you. Y’all pick whatever you want.”

  “You’re our uncle Luke?” Miranda asked.

  “That I am.”

  Miranda shared a delighted grin with her sisters. “After you get us our sweets, will you take us to meet our new cousins, Uncle Luke? Not the babies. They’re not much fun. I mean the older ones. Aunt Kat says they’re really nice and that we’re going to love them and that we’ll adore having cousins. We’ve never had cousins before.”

  “Well, you have cousins now, little bit” He turned to Marcus Wagoner. “Would you mind holding the fort at the office for a while this afternoon, Marcus? Looks like I have some introductions to make.”

  Marcus Wagoner’s smile looked a little sickly as he nodded. “Sure, boss. I, uh, I guess I’ll go now.”

  Mari glanced at her friend. “Finish your sandwich first, Marcus.”

  “No, thank you. I, uh, don’t have much of an appetite today.” He retrieved his hat from the back room, then walked toward the front door. He nodded at Kat as he passed. “Welcome home, Kat.”

  “Thank you, Marcus,” she replied, smiling. “It’s good to be home. Very good.”

  “Oh, Kat.” Mari blinked rapidly. “You sound like your old self!” Then she burst into tears, ran across the room and wrapped her sister in a hug. The two women bawled together like babies, and Miranda looked at Theresa and said, “Promise me we’ll never act that silly.”

  “Never,” Theresa agreed.

  Once Luke left with the children in tow, headed for his own house where the Garretts’ hired babysitter watched the older children a few hours each day so that Mari could keep her fingers in the chocolate, so to speak, the sisters settled down to catch up.

  “It’s amazing.” Mari sipped from a glass of lemonade. “All these life-changing events because of an overheard remark from a child’s mouth at a zoo.” Sighing, she added, “I wish I’d been with you and Emma. Y’all had a good old-fashioned McBride-Menace escapade without me.”

  “We missed you. We could have used another pair of hands searching Chatham Park for the cross and my necklace.”

  Mari set her glass on the table. “So. Kimball stole the necklace from you a second time, but what about the cross?”

  “It’s still at Chatham Park.”

  “You left it behind? Why?”

  Kat eyed the chocolates on a tray atop the counter and debated having one more. “I don’t believe in that nonsense anymore.”

  “What nonsense is that?”

  “The family curse. The Curse of Clan McBride.”

  Mari folded her arms and frowned at her sister. “Stop that. What’s the matter with you, Kat? You believed in the curse and in the power of our necklaces from the first. Why are you being so cynical now?”

  Kat debated how much to say. It was one thing to keep the truth about her marriage secret from her parents, but something else entirely to keep it secret from her sisters. “I’ve grown up, Maribeth. Finally. Look, I was little more than a girl when Roslin gave us our necklaces. I was starry-eyed and stupid and still very young when I convinced myself that Rory Callahan was my destiny. After he died, I latched on to the idea that my task was to deliver the Sacred Heart Cross to San Antonio because I was desperate for hope, needful of a dream to hold close at a time when I faced the reality of being an unwed mother. After Susie was born, I didn’t have time to dream. When I lost her, I didn’t have the desire.”

  “So why create an elaborate plan to reclaim the necklace and the cross?”

  “Because I’m a slow learner,” she replied with a sad laugh. “I think I’d reached the point where I was ready to step away from my grief, but I needed a catalyst to make the leap. Jake Kimball provided it. Then, when I needed an excuse to justify my actions with Jake, I latched on to the idea that caring for these children might be my task, and that Jake might be the man to offer me a love to fit the requirements.”

  Mari gave a vigorous nod. “Exactly.”

  “Exactly wrong. Again. I may be slow, but I do eventually learn. I don’t have a task, and I don’t have a love that is strong, vigilant and true. That’s why I didn’t bring the cross home, Mari. It’s just a cross. It’s not enchanted or cursed. What it is, though, is his. He bought it fair and square.”

  “But—”

  “Jake Kimball left me, Mari. We’re not headed for a happy-ever-after.”

  Mari twisted her mouth, sat back in her chair, and drummed her fingers on the table. After a few moments though
t she declared, “You could be wrong, Kat The curse—”

  “For heaven’s sake. Haven’t you heard a word I said?”

  “I heard, but I disagree with your conclusions. One thing I’ve come to understand about the curse is that the process of breaking it is full of surprises. Although, now that I think about it we should have seen it coming with regard to Jake Kimball. You were certainly obsessed with the man for a time. Still, I thought that when you finally got over Rory, you’d find a man here in town. Someone like Johnny Wilkinson—he’s asked you out dozens of times. Or Noah Barnes. Why, I thought you might take a liking to Marcus. He’s been sweet on you for years, you know.”

  “Marcus has been kind to me,” Kat agreed. “He was such a dear when Susie was killed. Noah and Johnny are fine gentlemen, too. Maybe when word arrives that Jake Kimball slid off a mountaintop, I’ll walk out with one of them.”

  “Katrina!”

  Why not? Jake’s eye was probably roaming somewhere in the world even now. “In fact, maybe I won’t wait until Jake falls off a cliff.”

  “Would you stop it!” Mari protested. “You know, Kat, your reaction further convinces me I’m right. I hear such passion in your voice when you speak about Jake Kimball.”

  “A lot of good passion does me alone. The man is off climbing a mountain for at least two years. It mustn’t have been all that passionate for him. Happy-ever-after, hah!”

  “Roslin of Strathardle didn’t promise us a time line.”

  Kat wrinkled her nose. “I’ll tell you about a time line. The man walked out on me and those children for no good reason. Two years won’t be long enough for me to forgive him. And as for stealing my necklace, twenty years won’t do it. Maybe, just maybe, two hundred years would get the job done, but I don’t think I’ll live that long.”

  Mari sat back and drummed her fingers against the table. “Oh, my. You went and fell in love with him.”

  Kat looked away.

  “You’re in love with your husband!”

  “No. No, I’m not. I’d be a fool to love that man, and I’ve sworn off foolish behavior. Jake Kimball may be charming, handsome and intelligent, but he’s also a thief, a scalawag and an adventurer.”

  “In other words, he’s just your type.”

  Kat bent over and banged her head against the table. “What’s wrong with me, Mari? Why am I always attracted by the wrong kind of man? Why couldn’t I fall for someone kind and considerate like Marcus? Why am I attracted to inappropriate men?”

  “I bet it’s the curse,” Mari said.

  “Oh, stop bringing up the curse! I swear, you must have milk fever. It’s making you batty. And to think that you were the skeptic among us back when Roslin gave us our necklaces.”

  “Hmm…” Mari said, absently rubbing her belly. “I still think I’m right. I think the cross and your necklace brought you and your Jake together, and you simply need a little more time for the love you share to become powerful, vigilant and true.”

  Kat reached out, took her sister’s face in her hands and stared into Mari’s blue eyes. “Listen to me. There is no ‘shared love.’ Jake Kimball doesn’t love me. I don’t love him.”

  Mari patted her sister’s cheek. “I guess time will tell, Katrina. Time will tell.”

  WHEN JAKE stepped off the train in Fort Worth, Texas, he halfway expected a tornado to hit or an explosion to rumble or lightning to strike from a clear, blue sky. At the very least a comet should streak down from the heavens and knock him on his ass. It had been that sort of trip.

  In all his years of traveling, Jake had never had a run of bad luck like what he’d experienced since the day he’d left Kat sleeping in their marriage bed. From the trouble he’d had returning to Chatham Park, to the delay in his departure from England caused by an overzealous constable who, based on a case of mistaken identity, arrested him for being a Peeping Tom. After finally striking out for Texas, Jake encountered a washed-out bridge, another broken axle, a horse with digestive troubles, more engine problems aboard ship, a quarantine in New York harbor and three days cooling his heels in the city while taking care of Kimball Foundation concerns.

  He’d almost sent her a telegram telling her he was on his way, but he’d decided that in this case forewarned might literally mean forearmed. Surprise might save them both grief in the long run.

  The train trip from New York to Texas was a nightmare he’d just as soon not revisit. Suffice it to say he’d tracked the robbers down and retrieved the Sacred Heart Cross and Kat’s necklace.

  He glanced down at the satchel he carried in his left hand. He was beginning to think that maybe Kat had been right all along, that this religious icon was cursed with bad luck.

  “All the more reason to follow through with her original plan,” he murmured as he exited the train station. He wasn’t an overly religious man, but he’d had quite enough of God’s wrath. Hopefully, giving the cross to the Sacred Heart Mission would appease the Almighty where Jake was concerned.

  When Jake had discovered she’d left the cross behind when she took the children to Texas, he’d decided to take her plan and make it his. He expected he’d need a grand gesture like giving up the Sacred Heart Cross to buy his way back into her good graces. And God’s.

  Jake chose to check into a hotel rather than make straight for Willow Hill and the expected confrontation with his bride. And, probably, her father. He signed an alias to the register, figuring he’d reconnoiter the area a bit before making his presence known. It wouldn’t surprise him to learn that Trace McBride had put a price on the head of one Jake Kimball.

  Or maybe not. Surely the children wouldn’t like that. Would they? He supposed they might be pretty angry with him. Damn, but he couldn’t wait to see them. He’d missed the little troublemakers something fierce. Just like he’d missed his wife.

  Jake bathed away the travel dust and dressed in clean clothes before pulling on a pair of boots and heading downstairs. He figured he’d begin his search for information in the hotel bar.

  With its polished oak panelling, upholstered furniture and classical art, the Cactus Bar attracted businessmen looking to unwind at the end of a workday, rather than cowboys hunting up a good time. Jake suspected a pair of sharp ears along with a well-considered question or two might pick up a bit of news about someone with the last name of McBride. Or even better, McBride-Kimball.

  He ordered whiskey straight and stood at the bar, one boot propped upon the brass rail. He sipped his drink and eavesdropped on the conversations around him. He heard talk about cattle prices and oil exploration. Complaints about wives, lady friends, bosses and employees swirled in the air. Jake chuckled into his drink at a joke a preacher told about a banker. A fellow mentioned the name of Kat’s sister’s chocolate shop, and Jake perked up.

  Then, drifting through the doorway that led from the Cactus Bar into the hotel restaurant, Jake heard a laugh. A familiar laugh. A laugh that sent a shiver of longing up and down his spine. Kat.

  Absently he set his drink onto the bar and, drawn like a moth to a flame, moved toward the open door. His mouth went dry. His heartbeat pounded. Damn, I’ve missed her.

  Stopping in the doorway, he scanned the room. There. Looking beautiful in blue, her hair a little mussed, her cheeks rosy, her smile bright and easy, Kat sat laughing with her dinner partner.

  Her dinner partner was a man. A man who, judging by the gleam in his eyes, was not her brother, uncle, cousin or any other relation.

  A red haze of temper descended over Jake, dulling his thought processes and allowing him to act in a manner that was…well…stupid. He marched across the restaurant to his wife’s table, braced his hands on his hips and demanded, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Kat gazed up at him in shock, her eyes round, her mouth working. But no words emerged. Jake, on the other hand, had no trouble spouting off. Stupidly. “Allow me to remind you that you are a married woman, Mrs. Kimball.”

  She drew herself up. Seconds ti
cked by.

  “With children,” he added.

  At that, her eyes narrowed and Kat finally found her voice. “How dare you!” she said in a scathing tone as she threw her napkin down onto the table. She shoved to her feet, her eyes flashing. “How dare you speak to me that way! Even Rory had more sense than to flap his mouth like that.”

  Rory Callahan? Again? Already? Jake thought his head might just explode.

  “You have more nerve than a broken toe,” Kat continued. “You sneak out of our home like a thief in the night—which you are, by the way—then dare say a word against me? You’re lucky if I don’t—”

  She broke off abruptly. Her eyes blinked twice, then she looked at her dinner companion and said, “Marcus, arrest this man.”

  “What!” Jake exclaimed, towering over her menacingly, his gaze locked with hers.

  “He’s a thief. He stole a valuable necklace from me. He might even have it in his pocket right this moment. Marcus, dear, I want this man arrested!”

  “Dear?” He gritted his teeth. “You call him ‘dear’?”

  Somewhere beneath the thrum of his fury, Jake heard the familiar click of a gun being cocked. “Back away from her, Kimball.”

  Jake broke eye contact with Kat long enough to snarl at ol’ Marcus. “You stay the hell away from my wife.” Then, turning back to Kat, he continued, “You have some explaining to do, woman. Let’s go—”

  A gun barrel poked his side. “Empty your pockets.”

  “What? I’m not going to—”

  The gun barrel gouged him. “Now.”

  Kat folded her arms and smiled. Jake curled his lip and glared at dear Marcus. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out Kat’s necklace. From behind him, he heard the crowd gasp. Marcus held out his hand for the necklace, but instead, Jake slipped it over his wife’s head and around her neck. The pendant snuggled between her breasts, and he sighed heavily. He’d wanted her to be naked when he did that.