Robin Lee Hatcher (16 page)

Emily straightened and turned, but his gaze was on his wife’s reflection, a tender smile on his mouth, a soft look in his eyes. In that moment, Emily felt like an intruder. She slowly backed away from Dru. But she stopped when Gavin’s gaze shifted to her. When the tenderness didn’t alter or disappear, she felt a wonderful warmth rush through her veins. Her mouth went as dry as dust.

“It’s a gift from Emily,” Dru said.

“I heard.” He crossed the bedroom in several easy strides. “I guess this means you won’t stay home.”

“I haven’t seen my friends and neighbors since last May. This may be my last chance before . . . before winter sets in hard. Please don’t argue with me.”

He shook his head. “Since when did it do me any good to argue with you, Drucilla Blake?” He rested a hand on her shoulder.

Her hand came up to cover his. “Never.”

Once again, Emily felt like an interloper and sought to leave the room. And once again, she was stopped by a single glance from Gavin.

A maelstrom of feelings swept through her. Pleasure, confusion, bewilderment, satisfaction. Warm and cold at the same time. Joy and sorrow mingled together. Hope for what could be, despair for what could never be.

She found her voice at last. “I’d better get ready too.” She retreated to her cabin as quickly as her feet would carry her.

Gavin drew the wagon to a stop on the crest of a hill. “What do you think of it, Miss Harris?” He motioned with his head toward the valley below.

The two-story stone house, U-shaped and sprawling, resembled a medieval castle. It was set against a tree-covered mountain and surrounded by a sloping lawn. Threads of smoke drifted above numerous chimneys jutting up from the steep-pitched roof. Green shutters bordered the many windows that looked over the panoramic countryside.

“Who lives there?”

Gavin answered, “The O’Donnells. They call it Killarney Hall. Impressive, isn’t it? The Johansen girl didn’t do too bad for herself, I’d say.”

Dru jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow, and he regretted his comment. From all reports, Pearl Johansen was head over heels in love with her intended. He had no cause to assume she married for money.

Emily leaned forward on the wagon seat to look at him. “I thought we were going into town.”

“There’ll be too many people at this wedding for the little Episcopal church in Challis,” Dru answered. “It’s not every day one of the O’Donnell boys gets married. Folks from miles around will be here today.”

“Mr. O’Donnell is the groom,” Sabrina said with an air of authority.

“Patrick O’Donnell? The man I met when we went to town for supplies?”

Was that disappointment Gavin heard in Emily’s voice? “No. His brother, Shane.”

Sabrina stood and leaned her head between her mother and Emily. “Patrick O’Donnell is the oldest brother. He’s older, like Pa. Shane O’Donnell, the one who’s getting married, is next. Then comes Jamie and then Trevor. Trevor’s sixteen, and I’m going to marry him when I grow up.”

Dru and Emily exchanged amused glances but didn’t contradict the girl.

Gavin found nothing humorous about it. What would he do when Sabrina became a young woman? How would he know if she was ready to marry? What would he do if she chose unwisely? The questions sent a chill through him.

He slapped the reins against the horses’ backsides, and the wagon started down the hillside toward Killarney Hall and the many outbuildings that were part of the estate. As soon as they pulled into the yard a short while later, the front door of the house opened and three of the O’Donnell brothers — strapping, tall men with matching thatches of red hair — came outside.

“Gavin!” Patrick called to him, his usual grin in place. “I told Shane you wouldn’t miss seeing him trussed up in holy wedlock.” He strode toward the wagon and lifted Petula from the bed, swinging her high in the air before setting her on her feet. “This can’t be the wee lass, can it?”

“I’m Pet!” she answered with a giggle.

“And can this be Sabrina? Faith, but she’s become a young lady over the summer.” He lifted the older girl to the ground as he had her sister.

Sabrina looked toward the two younger men still standing near the entrance to the house. “Hello, Trevor,” she called to him.

Gavin felt that same chill again.

“Puppy love,” Dru whispered as her hand touched his knee. “You needn’t worry.”

Patrick stepped to the opposite side of the wagon, his arms outstretched toward Emily. “It’s pleased I am to see you again, Miss Harris. Allow me to help you down.” And with that, he lifted her to the ground as easily as he had the children.

Gavin jumped down from the wagon seat, then helped Dru descend.

Patrick let out a low whistle. “Drucilla Blake, you’ll outshine the bride herself, so pretty you look.”

Dru laughed. “Leave off your Irish blarney, Patrick O’Donnell. I’ve known you long enough to keep your empty flattery from turning my head.”

“A shame you feel that way, for I meant it from the heart.” He turned toward Gavin. “It’s not fair you should have so many beautiful women at the Lucky Strike, mate, while I’ve got nothing but brothers to look at.” He motioned with his head for Gavin to follow, then hooked Emily’s hand through his left arm and Dru’s through his right. “Come in out of the cold. We’ve merrymaking to do this day.”

While Patrick squired the ladies inside, Gavin led the team and wagon around to the stables. As he unhitched the horses, he wondered at the odd tension he felt around Patrick. The two of them were good friends. Was he suddenly jealous of the wealth of the O’Donnells? No. That wasn’t it. He was content with the Lucky Strike.

Still, he hadn’t wanted to come to the wedding, and he dreaded going inside and listening to Patrick lavish compliments on the womenfolk.

Womenfolk? Or just Emily?

Setting his jaw, he headed for the house.

Dru hadn’t exaggerated when she said folks would come from miles around to see an O’Donnell get married. The large house seemed in danger of bursting at the seams with people, young and old alike, all of them in good spirits as they gathered close to hear the tiny, dark-haired bride promise to love, honor, and obey the strapping, red-headed groom.

After the ceremony, servants carried platters of food to the long tables set along one wall of the great room in the center of the house. People milled about, chatting with neighbors, sharing gossip, eating and laughing.

Names swirled in Emily’s head. Too many to keep straight. In the past two hours, Patrick had introduced her to nearly every person who lived within a hundred miles of Challis. There were a few from even farther away, like the man with sagging jowls and narrow eyes who stood opposite her now.

“If you’ll excuse me, Miss Harris, Senator Brewer,” Patrick said. “I see that my brother Jamie wants a word with me.”

Senator Brewer rubbed the whiskers on his chin. “Where are you from, Miss Harris? I venture you are not from around here.”

“I’m from Boise City.”

“You don’t say. Harris.” He frowned. “Harris. Do I know your family? I certainly should if they live in my district.”

“I was raised by my sister and her husband, Maggie and Tucker Branigan.”

“You’re Judge Branigan’s sister-in-law? Well, well. I had no idea he knew the O’Donnells.” He lowered his voice. “It never hurts to have wealthy friends when one is in office. I’ll have to have a talk with that brother-in-law of yours. If he were to run for higher office and had the support and money of the O’Donnells behind him, there’d be no stopping him. I can see why he sent you to represent him.”

Emily took a sudden dislike to the senator. “Tucker doesn’t know the O’Donnells, sir. I’m the governess for the Blake family.”

“A governess? Out here?” Bushy eyebrows rose on his wrinkled forehead.

She could almost read the questions running through his mind: Was Judge Branigan in financial trouble? Was Emily in some sort of disgrace, sent away where few people would see her? Was there a scandal brewing? Something that might be politically advantageous to know? It made her blood boil.

“Excuse me, Senator. I’d better make sure my young charges aren’t up to any mischief. You know how children can be.”

“Of course. You go right ahead about your duties.”

What a disagreeable man. When she wrote to Maggie and Tucker again, she would inform them of this encounter.

She moved through the throng of people in the great room, unconcerned about Sabrina and Petula. The children of the wedding guests were all being attended by members of the O’Donnell staff in some other room in the house. She’d only used them as an excuse to leave the senator’s company. In fact, what she wanted most was a few minutes alone. She hadn’t attended a gathering this large in over a year. The room felt too close, the air too thick.

She made her way out of the great room, through more guests who mingled in an adjoining sitting room, and finally found herself in the hallway of the east wing. An open door at the end of the hall beckoned to her. She hurried toward it.

As she stepped into what turned out to be a sunny solarium, she came to an abrupt halt. Gavin stood near the long bank of windows, his expression pensive as he stared outside. She took a step backward, planning to leave.

Perhaps she made a sound, for he turned and looked her way. His gaze stopped her departure.

“I didn’t know you were in here.” Why did she say that? She didn’t need to explain.

He jerked his head toward the windows. “Come look.” His tone seemed ominous.

Emily moved to the windows, leaving several feet of space between herself and Gavin, even though she wished to stand close beside him. Seated on a bench in the garden was Sabrina, her face a portrait of misery. Emily followed the girl’s gaze toward a gazebo where Trevor O’Donnell leaned against the railing, smiling down at a pretty teenaged girl in a pink dress. As they watched, Trevor straightened, removed his suit coat, and draped it around the girl’s shoulders.

“I’d like to break his jaw,” Gavin said.

Emily understood then, and her heart went out to him, despite herself. “Brina would never forgive you if you did.”

“He’s broken her heart.”

“It will mend. She’s only nine.”

Gavin sighed as he turned his back toward the window and looked at her. “I don’t know how to be a father to girls.”

“Nonsense. You’re reacting as any father would in similar circumstances.”

“You think so?”

Emily’s first instinct was always to encourage someone when they were down. Her words to Gavin had been nothing more than that. Words meant to encourage. She’d constructed a barrier between them several weeks earlier, a barrier meant to protect her from her own feelings. But now, as she realized how deeply worried he was, as she recognized how much he loved Sabrina — how desperate he was to be a good father to the girl, how scared he was that he would fail — Emily’s guard lowered.

“Yes, Mr. Blake. I think so. You’re a good father. Brina and Pet adore you.”

He looked at her in silence, his eyes thoughtful and unwavering.

Her breathing grew shallow as she met his gaze, silence surrounding them. She couldn’t let her resolve weaken further. She had to stay strong. He had been so cool with her since she declared her desire to go home to Boise, and that was exactly how she wanted things to remain between them. For both their sakes.

She lifted her chin and said with as much dignity as possible, “I think I’ll return to the party.”

“You’ve had a good time today?” he asked before she could turn to leave.

She nodded, stayed by his words.

“I won’t be able to give Sabrina a wedding like this one when her time comes.”

Her resolve failed her. “She won’t need a big wedding. All that will matter to her is that she loves the groom and that her family is with her.”

More silence and then, “Thank you, Miss Harris.”

If she didn’t leave now, she might begin to cry. Her thoughts and emotions were all a jumble. She was confused about her feelings for this man. But where could she turn for guidance? Oh, if only Maggie were here. If only she could ask her sister what —

“Ah, so here you are.”