The Nanny Solution (16 page)

He sighed. “Agnes and I didn't love each other. Not like a husband and wife should love each other. Ours was a marriage meant to help Agnes out of dire poverty and help me settle down. You see, my parents wanted to leave me their farm, but I was a restless teenager. I wanted my own land, to build my own life, not to take over my father's dream. In fact, that's the last thing I wanted.

“When my mother traveled to Boston once, she met Agnes's family. My parents then arranged my marriage to Agnes because her family was desperate and my mother knew that marriage shouldn't be about the money, but about God's will for us. My wife's family had too many daughters. At first, we tried to make a normal life for ourselves, outside of Boston, with me working at a stable, but it wasn't enough for me, and I think Agnes knew she wasn't, either.”

“So you left?”

“It was only temporary. I came here to build this place. I even hoped for a while it would help our marriage. But it was doomed long before I moved out here. I don't know who she met, or if that relationship meant anything to her, but when I returned, I discovered she'd died in childbirth and I knew I wasn't the father. It still feels so strange. She did all that, and yet still took our children to church. It goes to show you that I don't understand women, especially her.”

“Perhaps you feel responsible for Emily because you made mistakes where Agnes was concerned?” Victoria paused. “Have you forgiven her?”

His mouth thinned. She'd hit a nerve. A proud, tattered nerve.

“Do you forgive your mother for abandoning you?” he snapped back.

Her heart faltered a little but she knew the answer. “Yes. How can I call myself a Christian if I don't? How can I think that her sins are worse than mine?”

“You can't.”

Victoria shrugged. “No. Besides, she is still my mother. She hurt me because I care for her. I have to decide what is more important. My love for her, or her mistakes. It's my love that's more important. Do you understand? I have to learn to forgive those I care for.”

* * *

Mitch stilled, then stood abruptly, Victoria's words ringing in his ears like the church bell on a crisp morning. He'd cared for Agnes. He hadn't
loved
her, but he had respected her. Then she'd torn apart that respect and shamed him. It was different than what Victoria had experienced. The shame was more on her stepfather than on her mother. He'd been trying to explain how he felt to Victoria and she'd posed an unanswerable question.

Much more slowly, Victoria rose. “What is it?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

“No, it's something. I'm here to help you, not just around the house, but in other matters, too. Is it about someone you loved? Or your late wife?”

“I don't want to talk about it anymore.” He hastily closed the wood stove's door. “You've got your fire. Now you can do all those things you've learned. I have other things that need tending. My dog has been injured.”

“Your dog? What happened?”

“He was attacked by the neighbor's dogs. They were set loose in my pasture to disrupt my herd. In fact, they caused a stampede that killed several of the heifers that I had sold but not yet delivered. I have to decide which of the others I should offer as replacements. But the heifers that died had been hand-picked, so I don't know what the other ranchers will want to do.”

Victoria gasped. “I'm so sorry. And your poor dog. Will he recover?”

He walked to the door. “He'll be fine soon enough, but I need to see to the herd.”

“Those men, especially the brothers, will they accept your other heifers? They were reluctant to buy from you in the first place. They wanted older, good stock heifers that had been bred early.”

At the door now, he turned back, sharply. “How do you know all that? I only mentioned heifers to you, not that they were older and from good stock.”

Victoria clamped shut her mouth as her eyes widened. She finally asked, “Didn't Jake tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

She bit her bottom lip.

“Victoria,” he warned. “What did you do?”

Victoria swallowed and smoothed her dress. “I arranged for the sale of your heifers. Jake told me those ranchers were too intimidated to buy them directly from you, so I worked as an intermediary.”

His brows shot up. “You know how to do that?”

“Of course. A good marriage arrangement is often facilitated by a third party who knows both sides, usually after a courtship to see if the couple is compatible. You said your marriage was arranged, so didn't you know the intermediaries?”

“Yes, they were my parents and Agnes's parents. But I hadn't realized that you would know so much.”

“I've watched my mother and stepfather act as the third party several times.” Her expression saddened. “Selling a bride isn't much different than selling heifers. And sometimes, like when I sold your heifers, it's done quietly because the bride's reputation has been compromised.”

“Too bad you lost your fortune. You could have arranged a suitable marriage for yourself.” Despite knowing his pride had been pricked, Mitch cringed. He hadn't meant for his comment to make it sound as if Victoria was some conniving old woman. Or a heifer.

Victoria, to her credit, blushed and appeared to take his accidental insult with a grain of salt. “I had started a courtship with a young Brahmin man, but even Boston's elite prefer wealth over anything else. I should have read the writing on the wall when Mother told me she was sending me here. She told me she couldn't arrange a hasty marriage. I know now that if the wedding had gone ahead, there would have been a terrible disgrace once the family discovered I had no fortune and yet if they'd learned beforehand of my dire financial straits, they'd have backed out and there would have been an embarrassing situation the likes of which we hadn't seen before.”

“There is more to a decision to marry than just wealth.” He frowned and stared pointedly at her. “But let us stick to the point, Victoria. This isn't about marriage. It's about my herd. You sold my heifers?”

* * *

Victoria couldn't believe her ears. Was he still on about that? “I only acted as intermediary. I convinced the ranchers your livestock was well worth the money, and no one was going to threaten them because they couldn't prove the heifers came from you. I actually bought them using Rachel's money, sold them to those ranchers, and then returned the money to Rachel. So technically, Rachel bought and sold them.”

“She knows about it?” He gaped at Victoria.

“I trust her completely.” A small gasp slipped from her lips. “But you don't? Oh, it's because of her reputation, isn't it?”

Mitchell frowned. “What reputation?”

“Of going out at night to meet men and frittering her life away at saloons with disreputable characters.” Her fingertips touched her lips. “Oh, no! Is that how you two met?”

He bristled. “No, it's not! We met in church. Rachel hasn't told you what she does?”

“Not outright, but she's apparently unashamed of it.” She gasped again and placed her hand to her throat. “That's why my uncle stopped trying to marry her off. She is like I was to my mother—no longer suitable. But Uncle Walter thinks I am, as broke as I may be.”

Mitchell shook his head, as if baffled by her swift thoughts. “Your uncle wants to keep his business in the family, that's all. You're not damaged goods,” he growled. “Clyde Abernathy wants a beautiful young woman as a bride because he's a filthy old man.”

Despite the subject of their conversation, she beamed. “You think I'm beautiful?”

“Yes, but we're getting off topic here.” He pointed his finger at her sternly. “You should have stayed out of my business.”

“Why?” She heard the defiant tone to her voice and was pleasantly surprised by it.

“Because it's my business, not yours.”

“You're too proud.”

“Pride has nothing to do with this. You're too nosy. You don't know what you're dealing with, Victoria. We're talking about ranchers. We're not sweet little Brahmin boys from Beacon Hill. Meeting men with large sums of money in your purse can be dangerous. And you're getting yourself mixed up in your uncle's business. That's even more dangerous.”

“Why?”

“Because your uncle hired my neighbor to spook my herd and make them stampede.”

Victoria's eyes widened further. Despite Mitchell's ire, their conversation made her feel amazingly alive. “Can dogs be trained to do that?”

“It's more like it's in their nature. Especially that litter. But even a man can spook his own herd just by striking a match, especially if the heifers are already stressed. A cough or any sudden noise can startle a herd. Walter Smith knows a stampede could easily kill some of the young heifers or at least cause them to lose their young. He knew I planned to sell them.”

Victoria gasped. “Why would he do that?”

“He wants my mineral rights. I refused to sell them to him, so now he's trying to ruin my ranch. He wants to force me to sell him those rights when I can't make my next mortgage payment.”

“And with those heifers dead, you won't be able to?”

“That's right.”

“But you have the money already.”

Mitchell shook his head. “Yes. I have the cash, but unless I can replace those heifers that hadn't been delivered yet with ones that those ranchers will accept, I will have to return the money.”

“I can help!”

The mood around him hardened sharply. “No! I don't care if you can talk a dog off a meat wagon, which I am beginning to think that you can. You're not going to do a thing about this.” He pointed to the kettle sitting on the stove. “You have enough work to do.” And then he stormed out.

* * *

Mitch couldn't believe how he'd been manipulated by Victoria. Women! If it wasn't them sneaking out behind your back, it was them trying to take over your life.

He fumed all the way into the barn. Glancing around, he noticed that Jake's horse was gone, so he assumed the man had hightailed it out to the far pasture where he'd managed to corral the herd, probably as soon as he saw Mitch and Victoria return from church. He must have figured that Mitch would learn the truth about that sale and decided not to be around when that happened.

The afternoon had turned breezy and warm, allowing the last of the year's wild roses to bloom on the south side of the barn, where Jake often tossed the cleanings from the stalls. Mitch stopped to savor the sun-warmed scents as the rays shone obliquely in the open door at the far end. At the sound of a soft whine, he glanced over at the pile of hay. Growler lay on a horse blanket, his leash chained to a nearby hook to stop him from following Jake. Beside him sat a bowl of water and another empty bowl that looked as though it had been licked clean of its contents.

Mitch walked over. “It's okay, boy. How are you feeling?” He scratched behind the dog's ears, noting that Jake had salved the puncture wounds, then sprinkled on them bright yellow iodoform to prevent Growler from licking them. No one, not even dogs, liked the smell or taste of that bitter powder.

Satisfied that the dog was healing well, Mitch stood. Behind the strong scent of the iodoform was something smoky. Had Victoria decided to cook? Mitch hurried out of the barn. The wind, now gusty and still warm for the season, was coming from the west. The chimney smoke was trailing away from him.

Mitch sniffed the air again. It
was
smoke. He walked around the barn and peered up at the mountain vista that he could call his own.

His upper pasture was on fire!

Chapter Nineteen

M
itch tore into the house. “Victoria, the upper pasture is on fire!”

She stood at the dry sink, stacking dishes. “Where is Jake? Is he up there? What about the herd?”

“I don't know. I have to ride up.”

“Ride up?”

“My herd is up there.”

“Are they worth your life?”

“Jake is up there, too. I need you to get the children ready to leave. If these winds pick up, it won't be long before the fire races down here.”

She hurried to the stove and shut the damper. “Is there anything else I can do?”

“Pray.”

“I shall.” She rushed up to him, laying a hand on his forearm. He still wore his Sunday best, but it was too late to change. “I'll take care of the children. But you must be careful, too. Please.”

He nodded, staring for that moment into her eyes. After she searched his face with anxious eyes, Victoria grabbed his jacket front and hauled his face down to hers. Their noses bumped while their close gazes locked. Then she did the unthinkable.

She kissed him soundly. He was stunned only for a moment. Then he wrapped his arms around her and returned her kiss with equal vigor. His heart, already pounding since he spotted the fire, raced ever more quickly.

The fire!

Mitch released her. “I have to go. Remember what I said. Get the children ready and in the wagon. And don't forget Growler.”

He wanted to watch her stir into action but couldn't. He still needed to saddle up his horse. Mitch spun and left her in the kitchen, knowing she followed him to the doorway.

Don't look back. Don't let your heart start giving you bad advice. After this fire is out, then you can deal with her.

His gut twisted and it was all he could do to keep facing the barn. He needed a clear head right now and her kiss had done the opposite.

A scant few minutes later, he galloped out of the barn, racing up toward the pasture. He'd grabbed a spare horse blanket, knowing it was good for pounding out errant flames or wrapping around a person who had caught fire.

Lord in heaven, keep Jake safe.

Repeating the prayer several times, Mitch pushed his horse farther up the hill. The animal shouldn't have gone from standing in his stall to a full gallop so quickly, but God willing, there would be time enough later to rub down Bruiser's sore muscles.

* * *

Victoria hurried back into the kitchen, panic swelling over her in a way she'd never before experienced. She stood for a moment in front of the stove, its warmth adding to her flush of fear. No one liked a wildfire. Although she'd lived all her life in Boston, she knew how dangerous they could be. Why, she could still remember the deadly fire of '72, a decade ago.

“Is everything all right?”

With a start, Victoria turned to the front room. Matthew stood in the doorway. The simple cotton curtains were fluttering at the window she'd recently opened and the door to her left was open, both allowing the smoke-scented wind to barrel through.

“There's a fire in a pasture. Your father has gone up there to get Jake and see what can be done.” Although she tried to keep her voice calm, she heard panic make it squeak.

No! She would not frighten the children. She ushered Matthew back into the front room and modulated her voice. “All right, children. Listen. We need to get dressed. Mary, gather together all the clean diapers for Emily. John, help Ralph get into his clothes. You may all take one toy. We're going to load up the wagon.” She began to gather up the blankets. Who knew where they would be sleeping tonight?

“What can I do?” Matthew asked.

She looked up at him.
Thank you, Lord, for this young boy's sensibility.
“Get some things together for your father and for Jake.”

“Jake sleeps in the barn.”

The barn. It stood between them and the fire. She didn't want Matthew in there.

But Growler was in there.

“I'll be right back. Get your father's things and put them in a bag and into the wagon.” She hefted up the bedding and hurried out to the wagon where it still sat beside the house. She dumped the bedclothes into the back. Then, hurrying over to the barn, she unhooked Growler, who'd sensed the excitement and had begun to howl. Shushing him, Victoria led him out to the wagon, pulling down on the back to make it easier for the dog to get in.

“Come on, boy, jump up.” She patted the bedclothes. Thankfully, the dog obeyed immediately. Giving him one last pat, she looked up at the front of the wagon.

No horse.

Victoria spun. Was there another horse in the barn? In her haste she hadn't noticed. Even a sturdy pony would do right now.

Matthew was herding his younger brothers out of the house toward her. The sky above was filling with smoke, and its scent stung her nostrils. “Matthew,” she cried out, “we need to hitch up a horse. But I don't know how.”

“I do, Miss Templeton.” He ran to the barn, and Victoria helped John and Ralph into the wagon. When she looked up again, Mary was carrying Emily out of the house. She raced over to her and took the baby from her. “Go get her things and her basket.” The girl ran back.

A minute later, Matthew was leading a pony out of the barn, dragging along beside him the bridle and reins and harness. While he attached the harness, Victoria slipped the bridle into place. Neither of them could pull the wagon up behind the patient animal, so Victoria led him to the front, and after careful coaxing, managed to get him to step back. Then, anxiously, she watched Matthew hook the traces that secured the wagon to the pony. “How do you know how to do this?” she asked.

“I've helped Papa a few times. He's shown me.”

Victoria smiled at him and the boy returned it readily.

Victoria prayed they'd hooked everything up correctly, but a quick test assured her they had.

“Are we going to leave Papa up there?” Matthew asked with a deepening frown.

Victoria shook her head. “No. I just wanted us ready to go at a moment's notice.” She bit her lip and glanced back at the younger children, all wide-eyed and worried. “Everything is going to be fine,” she reassured them. “Wrap up in the blankets.” It wasn't that cold, but they were only just recovering from an illness. She didn't need for them to get sick again.

“What else can we do?” Matthew asked.

Victoria bit her lip. Between the house and the barn sat a small well. An idea blossomed in her mind. “Come, Matthew. You, too, John. I need your help.”

With their help, Victoria set up a relay, with John pumping water into buckets and Matthew carrying them around to the back of the barn. Once Victoria had soaked the ground behind the building, she noticed that the water ran in rivulets into the barn. She hurried inside and found a tool, its name unknown to her, with which to carve out a long, narrow trough around the barn. Matthew caught on quickly, and began to pour the buckets of water into the trough. She had no idea if this action would make a good enough firebreak, but it was something to do while waiting for Mitchell to return.

Lord, keep him and Jake safe.

Puffing now as her anxiety wore off, Victoria paused and scanned the hillside. She felt her heart leap. Not only was the wind turning, but coming close to her was a herd of cattle, and two tall figures on horseback.

She sagged. But, realizing where the herd was headed, she dropped the tool and called to the boys. “Into the wagon, now!”

They rushed around the barn and scrambled up into the wagon, Victoria unceremoniously yanking up her skirt and petticoat in order to climb quickly aboard. She snatched up the reins and moved the horse and wagon down the lane.

Twisting in her seat, she sagged with relief. The herd stopped behind the barn. And around the darker side rode Mitchell.
He was never a better sight to see!

Thank you, Lord!

He trotted up to the wagon, dirt and sweat covering his face. She knew she looked a sight herself. Sweat and dust matted her hair, also. She ran one hand over the top to smooth it, but she knew it was pointless. Her forearms, too, were smudged, having been exposed when she pushed up her sleeves. “You brought the herd back!”

Mitchell shook his head, his expression grim. “Not all of it. Most of the younger ones are in a ravine. They panicked. Those that weren't killed tumbling down the side will have to be coaxed out later. We're just thankful the wind turned, driving the fire back onto itself. We managed to beat down the fire line, and the blaze extinguished itself. We drove what was left of the herd off the pasture.” With a firm rein, he circled the still-anxious horse in an attempt to distract him. “I have one steer who leads the herd, and thankfully he guided them through it.”

Victoria couldn't take her eyes off him, even more so when he walked his horse in close to the wagon to peer down at the basket that held Emily. “We can help water them,” she offered. “We've been soaking down the ground behind the barn to act as a firebreak.”

Mitchell lifted his eyebrows. “Really?” Then he shook his head. “Thank you, but Jake and I will manage the cattle. They're used to us.”

“Can I take the children back into the house?”

“No.” Mitchell shook his head. “I want you to take them to the parsonage in Proud Bend. Ask the pastor for directions to Jake's house.”

“I thought Jake lived in your barn?”

“His parents live in town. Take the children there. I'll meet you after I see the sheriff.”

Victoria gasped. “Why the sheriff?”

“This fire was deliberately set.” He held up a battered and charred hat. “I think whoever set the blaze was surprised it caught so quickly and ran off without his hat.”

Victoria took the hat from him and flipped it. The inside tag was covered with fine gray soot, but she smeared it clean. “I know this label. It's from a high end milliner in New York. They're quite reputable.”

“Are you sure? The hat is pretty scruffy.”

“That's because it's a dated style, at least a couple of years old. Look at this stain. It's been there for a while.” She handed it back to him.

“I'm taking it to the sheriff. If we can find the owner, we'll find our firebug.” He leaned forward, and her heart jumped. “Thank you so much for being here.”

All she could think of was that bold kiss she'd given him. She swallowed hard. When this was all over, and he thought back on it, would he continue her silly attempt at courting?

She gasped. Was it courting? No. Only the excitement of the moment had caused her to kiss him.

“Mitchell—” she began.

He looked away. “I have to go. As soon as you settle the children at Jake's house, I want you to go home. And stay there.”

She sat back. “Why?”

Mitchell's expression darkened. “Because you shouldn't be involved. This is my problem, not yours. I'm grateful for all you have done, but I can't have you around anymore.”

He flicked his reins and the horse trotted back to the barn. Over the sound of her pounding heart, she could hear the restless calls of the cattle he'd driven in. Her eyes watered and by the time he rounded the back corner of the barn, she could no longer see clearly.

She blinked several times. What had she expected? A declaration of love, a promise of courtship? After a wildfire and impromptu cattle drive that followed her silly kiss? What a foolish girl she was.

Victoria turned in her seat and picked up the reins again. Her hands were filthy and blistered from digging that narrow trench. For a moment, she wondered where her gloves were. Had she left them in Mitchell's bedroom? Most likely. Surely if Aunt Louise saw her now, she'd fall into a dead faint, Victoria half-dressed and ready to finish ruining her hands by using reins without gloves. And adding to her misery, sweat stung in several of her broken blisters.

Mitchell was right, she thought dejectedly. She wasn't made of the stern stuff needed up here. Of course, she'd been sensible enough to gather together blankets and clothing, but she had to be honest with herself. She couldn't handle this life on a day-to-day basis.

Swallowing down the lump in her throat that usually preceded tears, Victoria twisted about to ensure all the children were snug in the back. They all stared at her like they had that first day she'd met them. Poor mites! She turned away, hating to see their anxiety. She could never erase that look, no more than she could fit into Mitchell's hardworking life. She ached all over, too. Her corset bit into her sweat-drenched frame, and she wanted only to wash away the grime of the afternoon and fall into her feather bed.

Proof positive of Mitchell's belief.

Victoria flicked the reins and moved the pony forward, down the trail toward Proud Bend.

She was halfway there when her mind, having idled as they bumped over the trail that led to town, hit upon the truth of what she'd seen today.

A truth that was as dangerous as it was obvious. She flicked the reins to push the sturdy pony from his plodding walk into a decent trot.