Kate rubbed her throbbing forehead as Brynn continued to scream in protest. She’d tried putting the baby down for a nap right after Mrs. Hartwick had abandoned her to attend her meeting That had been over three hours ago, and Kate had tried everything from changing his dry diaper to giving him so much milk she thought he was going to burst. But nothing had worked.
She swayed Brynn gently as she walked around the front room, her arms feeling like they were being pulled out of their sockets. She didn’t know how many shoulder cloths she’d gone through as the boy had burped up much of what she’d fed him. Annabel Lee sat on the sofa, occasionally covering her ears and grimacing at Brynn’s gusty wails
“I wish I could do the same thing,” Kate said to the girl over the boy’s bawling
Annabel Lee’s light blue eyes reflected the sunlight that streamed in through the window as she smiled at Kate. She opened her mouth and for a moment, Kate’s breath caught in her throat Was she going to speak? Then, abruptly, the girl drew her lips together and knitted her brows.
Kate leaned over to sweep the girl’s golden hair back from her forehead. Was Annabel Lee thinking about her mother? Maybe the child missed her mother so much she refused to come out of the safe shell she’d constructed. Kate could understand that—hadn’t she done the same thing as a girl, turning her thoughts to her stars and refusing to share them with anybody? What would people have said, that she was crazy for talking to them like they were living, breathing friends? Was Annabel Lee conversing with her mother even now?
Kate, with Brynn cradled in one arm, perched next to the girl, and stroked her soft, thick hair. “I know you miss your mother, Annabel Lee. I lost mine when I was just a little older than you.”
Annabel Lee raised her head and tilted it, as if inviting Kate to continue. Then Brynn let out a refreshed wail and the girl clapped her hands over her ears again. Kate stood, cast Annabel Lee an apologetic look, and continued to pace the length of the room. Trying to take her mind off the baby’s cries, Kate studied each knickknack arranged neatly on the shelf above the fireplace. A tiny porcelain angel with ruby red cheeks and a golden halo sat between a pair of petite china doll figurines with intricately painted hair and eyes Kate couldn’t imagine anything so delicate in Trevelyan’s big hands, and assumed they had been his wife’s, left there in remembrance.
Kate had never owned anything so fine. A boy she’d known in the sixth grade had carved her a squirrel, which she’d kept hidden from her father. Late at night, after her father had drunk himself into a stupor, she’d retrieved the crude wooden creature from beneath her mattress and pretended it was alive. She’d even named it—Smoky. Kate hadn’t thought about Smoky in years, not since her father had found it and thrown it in the stove. The squirrel, along with her girlish dreams, had been turned into ashes that night.
Kate turned away from the mantel, the memory bringing the sting of tears. She took a deep breath and patted Brynn’s back, then rubbed it in slow circular motions. A huge belch interrupted his wails and Kate grimaced at the fresh odor of sour milk. Fortunately, most of the mess ended up on the cloth that she’d draped down her back. Soon his cries turned to hiccups, and finally blessed silence filled the room. Kate cautiously looked at Brynn’s head nestled in the curve of her neck—his eyes were closed and his measured breaths gurgled slightly with each exhalation. She closed her own eyes briefly in thanksgiving.
Glancing over at Annabel Lee, she caught the girl’s relief in her slumped shoulders. Kate tiptoed toward the bedroom.
Suddenly the front door burst open and Trevelyan strode in, his brogans slapping on the floor like a cow kicking the barn door. “Where’s my favorite girl?” he bellowed.
Brynn’s light sleep was broken, and he screamed in Kate’s ear. She gritted her teeth and resisted the urge to club Trevelyan over the head with the closest heavy object.
Annabel Lee scampered off the chair and went running toward her father, throwing herself into his arms. He picked her up and spun her around, and all thoughts of bringing bodily harm to Trevelyan disappeared when Kate saw his adoration for his daughter.
He approached Kate, holding his daughter in one arm, and frowned. “What’s wrong with Brynn? Haven’t you changed him lately? Or fed him?”
The urge to injure him returned in full force and Kate glared at him. “Yes to both. I’ve been trying to get Brynn to take a nap all afternoon, and he finally fell asleep just a minute ago. Then you come home and make enough noise to raise the dead and wake your son in the bargain.” She shifted the boy to her other shoulder. “And in answer to your first question, I have no idea!”
Trevelyan seemed taken aback, then his scowl deepened.
Uh-oh—now she’d done it. He was going to fire her, and she would end up at the wrong end of town in a dress a body could catch pneumonia in, serving drinks to men with wandering hands and absent morals.
“Why’s it so cold in here?” he demanded.
She could hear her father’s strident voice, ordering her to take off his boots, bring in the firewood, serve him his supper. And the insults that became progressively worse the more he drank. If Trevelyan thought he could treat her the same way, she would walk out the door and never return.
“With Brynn’s crying, I completely forgot.” Without a whit of contrition, she added, “I’m sorry.”
His gaze darted from her eyes to Brynn’s puckered-up red face. His expression eased and embarrassment colored his cheeks. “No, I’m the one’s who’s sorry.”
Kate’s mouth gaped. His quiet apology shocked her more than if he had hit her.
Trev dragged a hand through his thick hair, mussing it further. Kate tightened her hold on Brynn, tempted to soothe back Trev’s unruly hair, to allow the ebony strands to whisper through her fingers like a soft spring breeze. Was it as fine as Brynn’s dark hair? Or thick like Annabel Lee’s golden mane?
“Where’s Mrs. Hartwick? I thought she was going to help you today,” Trev asked.
“She had a meeting.”
He narrowed his eyes. “That’s right. I’d heard there was another rabble-rousing today. You’d think people would have better things to do than try to make trouble.”
“If helping the miners’ widows and families is trouble, then I agree wholeheartedly that there should be more people like Mrs. Hartwick to stir people up.”
“You’ve only been in town three days. You have no idea how things work around here.”
“I’m learning pretty darned fast.”
Trev’s stern lips twitched upward to a crooked grin, making him look devastatingly handsome. A band tightened around Kate’s lungs, and her breasts felt strange as her nipples swelled and pressed against the rough material of her underclothing.
His gaze flickered down the length of her body, pausing momentarily on her chest, and mortification filled Kate. Could he see the embarrassing effect his looks had on her?
“Yes, you are, Miss Murphy,” he said with a voice like satin sliding across bare skin. “Thank you for staying so late.”
She tried to concentrate on his words instead of the deep timbre that delivered them. “Is it late?” she asked distractedly. “What time is it?”
“Quarter of eight We had some trouble at the Surrey.”
“You had trouble with a wagon?” Kate asked, puzzled. She swayed gently, her arms cradling the now quiet Brynn.
Trev laughed, creating a current of heat pulsing through her veins. “I’m sorry, Miss Murphy. The Surrey is one of Mr. Cromwell’s mine. I forget that you don’t know much about the mining around here.”
“Even less than I know about babies,” she added ruefully.
He sobered. “I wouldn’t say that. You did a good job taking care of Brynn and Annabel Lee.”
A sense of satisfaction brought warmth to Kate’s face. She reached out and brushed Annabel Lee’s peach-smooth cheek. “I feel as if I’m stealing from you by taking money to care for her. Your daughter is an angel, Mr. Trevelyan.”
He glowed with pride. “I always thought so.” Melancholy shadowed his face. “Of course, Brynn makes up for Annabel Lee’s silence. Would you mind staying with the children for a few more minutes while I fill the furnace?”
“No, go ahead. It’s the least I can do since I forgot to fill it. And now that Brynn has quieted, I don’t mind at all.”
Trev set Annabel Lee down, then hurried downstairs.
“Your father is a puzzling man, Annabel Lee,” Kate said with a shake of her head.
The girl nodded sagely.
Kate adjusted the blanket around Brynn, suddenly fearful he might catch a cold, or worse. And she’d be to blame. The sun had heated the day, chasing away the worst of the chill in the house. But now with dusk, the lingering warmth was fast disappearing.
A few minutes later, Trev returned. As he leaned forward to take Brynn from her arms, his scent tickled her nose. Trev’s whisker-shaded cheeks and jaw were streaked with dirt and sweat He smelled of honest labor, instead of stale liquor, as her father always had. Kate couldn’t imagine him in a store-bought suit—a boiled shirt and starched collar would’ve looked foreign on a man like Trevelyan, a man of the earth.
She shook aside her fanciful thoughts, and laid a hand on Annabel Lee’s slight shoulder. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning.”
Trev walked her to the door, his son dwarfed by the massive arms that bore him. Before he opened the door, he turned to her and spoke, “I had a rough day at work and I took it out on you. I apologize.”
Startled, Kate met his eyes. “That’s all right.”
He shook his head firmly. “No, it’s not. You were hired to take care of Brynn and Annabel Lee, not to put up with my bad moods.”
“Everybody needs someone to talk to, Mr. Trevelyan, and I don’t mind listening.” Too keenly she recalled the lonely days when she had no one to speak to, including her stars which were hidden by the sun. “Believe me when I say I understand.”
Trev tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowed with questions. “How late does Mrs. Hartwick have supper?”
“About half past six.”
“Since it’s already eight o’clock, why don’t you have supper with us instead of going back to eat a meal that’s more than likely cold?”
Kate hadn’t thought of that, and after a moment of indecision, she nodded. “Only if you let me cook.”
“You don’t trust me not to burn it?” he teased.
“Let’s just say that I trust me a little more. Besides, that way you can wash up and change clothes, if you’d like.” Belatedly, Kate realized how brazen her suggestion sounded. Even with two children in the house, she and Trevelyan were unmarried adults without a chaperone. The suggestion of him removing his clothing with her under the same roof was downright improper.
“Thanks, Miss Murphy. I think I’ll take you up on that offer, and I promise to keep the children and myself out from underfoot.”
He didn’t even appear flustered, and Kate realized it was because he didn’t think of her as a single woman, but only as his employee. Her mind accepted that—but his disinterest stung her feminine pride.
Trev took his children and continued down the hall, while Kate went into the kitchen. She picked out some food from the well-stocked pantry, and found an apron. As she tied the ribbons together in the back, she couldn’t help imagining Trevelyan in the next room removing his clothing, article by article. And with an unrepentant grin, she wished she was a mouse in the corner of his bedroom.
Annabel Lee’s eyes lit with excitement and she pointed to a corner
Trev glanced over to see a rodent disappearing beneath a chair. “Don’t worry, honey, it was just a mouse,” he reassured his daughter. “I’m sure it’s long gone.”
His daughter’s expression dulled and his heart twisted.
“Maybe we can find a cat,” he said, knowing how impossible that would be. Cats were a prized commodity in a booming mining town where mice and rats far outnumbered people. He only knew of a few folks who owned cats, and one of them was Mrs Hartwick.
Annabel Lee nodded, but Trev could tell she didn’t put a lot of hope into his words. She settled on the bed beside her brother and put a protective arm around him
Trev sighed and removed his dusty shirt, then tossed it in a corner with his other dirty clothes. He’d have to drop off his laundry at the widow Reading’s before he ran out of clothes—or maybe he could talk Miss Murphy into washing them for him He banished the thought immediately he hadn’t hired her to be his laundress. And to be honest, the idea of Miss Murphy cleaning his woolen drawers seemed more than a little indecent.
She surprised him with more spunk than he’d first given her credit for, and he liked the way her eyes lit up and her face flushed when she was angry. It gave her pale countenance some vibrancy, and made her more attractive. He reined in his runaway thoughts. Just because he hadn’t been with a woman since he’d gotten Claire pregnant with Brynn didn’t mean he was looking for companionship in his bed. His job gave him more than enough trouble; he didn’t need more at home, too
And he had a feeling Kate Murphy wasn’t a woman to be trifled with.
His chest bare, he filled the basin from the pitcher in his room and splashed water on his face. After washing and rinsing, he found Annabel Lee holding the towel out for him as she always did when he cleaned up. He accepted it with a smile and thanks. He plucked a fairly clean shirt from a wooden peg, then frowned and put it back. Opening the armoire, he withdrew one of the white shirts he usually wore on Sundays. It was good for a person to break the same old routine once in a while; his choice certainly had nothing to do with Miss Murphy having supper with them
He checked Brynn’s diaper, found it dry, and lifted him into his arms. “How’s my big boy today, huh?”
Trev carried him into the kitchen with Annabel Lee walking beside them. Brynn wrapped his grasping fingers in Trev’s hair and tugged the strands toward his mouth. Trev laughed and attempted to disengage the boy’s small fist from his prize.
Miss Murphy, with one of Claire’s old aprons around her slim waist, smiled and approached them. “Need some help?”
“I’d appreciate it,” Trev replied.
She leaned close to untangle his hair from Brynn’s fingers, her loose reddish tendrils tickling Trev’s nose. The floral scent of her soap wafted around him, teasing him with the gentle feminine fragrance Her sweet breath and the heat of her sharpened his senses. Desire shot through him with an unexpectedness that startled him. He closed his eyes, hoping to hide the passion that fired his blood. Concentrating on his son’s squirming arms and legs, Trev reined in his instinctive reaction.
“There, I think I got it,” she announced a few moments later.
Only after he felt her move away did he open his eyes. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Miss Murphy turned back to the food that sizzled and boiled on the stove. “Supper won’t be for another fifteen or twenty minutes.”
“That’s fine.” His gaze scanned her back, noting her straight spine and the surprisingly small waist that he figured he could almost encircle with his hands “We’ll set the table.”
Carrying Brynn in one arm, Trev and Annabel Lee laid out the dishes and silverware. Then he glanced at his son and found him asleep.
“I’ll go put him to bed,” he announced in a hushed voice.
Miss Murphy nodded, a tender smile curving her lips as she gazed at Brynn When Trev returned a few minutes later, she was setting the steaming meal on the table.
“Annabel Lee showed me where the bowls were,” she said.
The husky shyness of her voice brushed across him like a physical caress, and Trev looked away so she wouldn’t see his confusion.
“Looks better than what I would’ve cooked,” he admitted.
“Anything would’ve looked better than what you cooked last night,” she retorted, a twinkle in her hazel eyes.
Trev chuckled. “You’ve got a point, Miss Murphy”
He pushed Annabel Lee’s chair in, then held Kate’s chair for her Kate’s startled look made him wonder if she’d ever had a man show her such a simple courtesy. Though tall, she wasn’t a bad-looking woman and must have had a beau or two in her past
So why had she chosen to become a mail-order bride?
“Do you want me to cut your meat?” Miss Murphy asked Annabel Lee.
The girl nodded eagerly, and a strange sense of desertion washed across Trev. He was always the one to do that simple task for his daughter, even when Claire was alive. It felt strange to share her with someone else, especially someone Annabel Lee had known for less than two days.
“You and Annabel Lee got to know each other pretty quickly,” Trev commented, careful to keep his jealousy hidden.
Miss Murphy finished slicing the beef into tiny pieces and handed Annabel Lee her fork, then lifted her gaze to him. “I think a person can sense a kindred spirit in another and those two people can feel comfortable around each other immediately.”
“She’s only a child.”
“But she has the eyes of an adult. Of someone who’s seen more than she ever wanted to.”
Apprehension sent a chill through Trev. Had Miss Murphy found out what had happened? “What’re you saying?” he asked coolly
She shrugged, unperturbed. “I’m only rambling, Mr. Trevelyan—a bad habit I’ve found myself doing more and more since I got to Orion. Maybe it’s because there’s less air than I’m used to.”
Trev smiled with a mixture of relief and humor. “Where did you say you were from?”
“Kansas.”
It didn’t make any sense, why a woman like her would travel so far to become a mail-order bride. Surely there had been men in Kansas looking for a wife. Unless she had something to hide; something folks who knew her would hold against her. “So what made you come all the way up here to marry a man you never met?”
“Adventure, Mr. Trevelyan,” she replied, her eyes daring him to refute her claim.
He debated taking her up on that challenge, and decided maybe it would be best if he didn’t get to know her any better. That could prove dangerous.
Kate was relieved when he didn’t pursue the topic of her past. She had no desire to lay her dismal childhood at his feet and see his pity and disgust. That part of her life was just where she wanted it—in the past.
She glanced at Annabel Lee, who grinned at her before shoving a forkful of potatoes in her mouth. Kate smiled back fondly. She hadn’t lied to Trevelyan—his daughter was an angel who spoke not with a voice but with expressive clear eyes.
“Did you have any trouble today, besides Brynn crying?” Trevelyan asked.
Kate shifted in her chair and shook her head. “Mrs. Hartwick was with me most of the day and she helped quite a bit. I know you don’t care for her, but her heart is in the right place.”
“Maybe.”
Hearing the skepticism in his tone, Kate figured a change of subjects was in order. Besides, if she got him talking, she had an excuse to look at him. The pure white shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, and the hint of crinkly hair at the open vee at the base of his throat had a disconcerting tendency to draw her curious gaze. “What do you do in the mines?”
“I don’t actually work in the mines anymore. I’m Cromwell’s superintendent; I supervise the running of all his mines.”
“That sounds important.”
“It is,” he said matter-of-factly, without a hint of arrogance. “I’m responsible for making the schedules and ensuring that ore keeps coming out of the mines.”
“What about the safety of the workers?”
“That, too.” He glanced at Annabel Lee, his expression somber, his thoughts unreadable. “The cave-in at the King shouldn’t have happened. I authorized the amount of dynamite they used that day. The wooden supports shouldn’t have collapsed like they did—they were less than a year old.”
Kate’s appetite fled and she laid her fork down, then folded her hands in her lap. “What if it was too much dynamite?”
His features became as hard as granite. “It wasn’t. They blasted today in spite of my orders. I was down there helping the men replace some timbers.”
Alarm skittered through her. “Did anyone get hurt?”
“No. A boy named Laddie and I were the last ones out, and we were just coming up from the hole when it blew. I thought we were goners.” His gaze turned inward as a haunted look crossed his face.
Kate’s eyes widened. If he’d been killed, what would have happened to Annabel Lee and Brynn? She noticed that his ruddy complexion had paled slightly—obviously the same thought plagued him.
She forced a smile. “And here I thought nobody’s day could’ve been worse than mine.”
The lines in his face eased. “At least we both survived.”
His gaze caught and held hers, and a seed of camaraderie germinated. Kate had had few friends as a child—her father had driven them away with his drunken behavior until she gave up trying—and to count her employer as one was disconcerting. And intriguing.
“Yes, we did.” She cleared her throat. “So, where do you come from, Mr. Trevelyan?”
He smiled, his teeth surprisingly white against his tanned features. Between the thinner air and his heart-stopping good looks, Kate figured she’d surely faint or bust her stays.
Maybe both.
She concentrated on her breathing—in, out, in, out—to slow the thudding in her chest
“I left England over fifteen years ago,” Trev began.
“England?”
“It’s across the Atlantic O—”
“I know where it is,” Kate interrupted indignantly. “I thought you were from Cornwall.”
“Cornwall is part of England.”
“Oh. Where’s your funny accent?”
He chuckled. “I’ve been told it comes out when I’m … emotional, or after I’ve had a drink or two.”
Kate shivered involuntarily. “Do you drink often?”
“Hardly at all since I’ve had the children to look out for.” Grief shadowed his face for a moment. “Claire didn’t like me to drink.”
“Your wife?”
He nodded, his gaze dropping so she couldn’t see his eyes. “She thought it was a sign of ill breeding.”
“But surely as a duke or whatever you Englishmen are, you would be above such things.”
His booming laughter startled Kate as well as Annabel Lee, who looked at her father with a blend of astonishment and fascination.
“I hate to tell you this, Miss Murphy, but very few Englishmen have titles. Most are like me, poorer than a church mouse. I started working the mines when I wasn’t much older than Annabel Lee here,” Trevelyan explained. “All the men in my family had been miners, and all the women wives of miners. It’s all I know.”
The thought of toiling underground all her life or marrying a man that did sent a wave of uneasiness through Kate. “How can you do it? How could you give up the sun and the sky?”
“A person will do what he has to in order to survive,” Trev said seriously. “You’ve obviously never been poor or desperate, Miss Murphy.”
Oh, she’d been both all right—and living with her father had been like living in darkness of another sort.
“I was pretty desperate when you offered me this job,” she said. “If I hadn’t been, I wouldn’t have taken on the responsibility of caring for a baby.” Suddenly the long day, her restless sleep of the night before, and the stress of caring for two children struck Kate, and she sagged with exhaustion. “I’ll help you with the dishes, then I’d better get back to Mrs. Hartwick’s.”
She stood and Trevelyan immediately came to his feet. “That’s all right. Annabel Lee and I are used to doing them. You can head on home”
Home. This was the closest thing to a home she’d been in since before her mother died. Even Mrs. Hartwick’s house didn’t hold the same warmth as Trevelyan’s, with the children and the obvious love he had for them.
“Are you sure? I don’t mind,” Kate said.
“No, that’s fine. I’d walk you back, but I can’t leave Annabel Lee and Brynn.”
Kate laid her hand on his muscled forearm, and a spark shot through her veins. Though she knew she should draw away, she found she didn’t want to lose the contact and kept her palm against his warm skin. “I’ll be fine.”
He frowned. “All right, but I want to give you something.”
Kate’s breath stammered in her throat as the possibilities raced through her mind. What could he possibly want to give her—a farewell kiss? Her knees quivered just at the thought of his sensuous lips pressed gently upon hers.
Trevelyan withdrew from the kitchen, leaving a puzzled Kate and a silent Annabel Lee alone.
“What do you think it is?” Kate asked.
The girl only smiled slightly.
“Seems you Trevelyans are full of secrets, aren’t you?” Kate teased, brushing her hand along Annabel Lee’s long hair.
“Here you go,” Trevelyan said, as he returned holding something in his palm.
Startled, Kate stared at the object. “A gun?”
“A two-shot derringer. It was Claire’s—she carried it in her bag.”
Reality crushed Kate’s romantic fantasy. “I don’t know how to use it,” she argued, making no attempt to take it from his outstretched hand
“All you do is pull back the hammer, then squeeze the trigger.”
“What if I shoot someone?”
“That’s what it’s for, Miss Murphy,” Trevelyan replied, humor twinkling in his devastating eyes. “If someone bothers you, use it”
She arched a brow. “That could be dangerous”
“This town is dangerous for a single woman.” He took her hand and forced her to take the small weapon. “Carry it on the way home so you have it ready if you need it. Be careful; it’s already loaded. Don’t worry about accuracy—it’s meant for close range”
Kate nodded without enthusiasm. She had never liked guns, but she could see Trevelyan’s point.
Trev and Annabel Lee walked her down the hall and she donned her coat.
“We’ll see you in the morning, Miss Murphy,” Trev said formally, but the warmth in his eyes nearly turned her bones to mush.
“Goodnight,” she said, then gave Annabel Lee a pat on the shoulder.
As she walked out, Trevelyan stopped her with a touch on her arm. “Don’t be afraid to use the gun, Miss Murphy I’d rather see some miner shot for accosting you than see you hurt.”
His soft words burrowed into her heart and nearly made her cry. Nobody had worried about her before, not even her father, who was supposed to love and care for her. To have a man who’d known her for only a few days be concerned about her well-being was an unaccustomed and wonderful experience
She plunged into the dark before he realized what a pitiful creature she was—a woman brought to tears simply because someone had offered her a crumb of concern.