The Nanny's Little Matchmakers (Love Inspired Historical) (19 page)

When Ma pulled away, Mary stepped in to hug Polly. “And I’m sorry, too. I don’t think any of us have paid much attention to what you wanted, and instead were focused on what we thought was right for you.”

Mary turned and smiled at Will. “I am so happy, married to Will, and now with our baby on the way, I can’t imagine anyone not having this kind of contentment.”

Bringing her gaze back to Polly, Mary gave her a tender look of love. “But just because I love my life doesn’t mean it’s the life for you. I hope you know that no matter where life takes you, I’ll always be here to support you.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Will said. “I was hard on Mitch, thinking he’d finally declare himself, and the two of you would be on the road to happiness, like we are. I was wrong. You need to figure these things out on your own, not because we pushed you into something you weren’t ready for. I’ll apologize to Mitch next time I see him.”

The heaviness that had been weighing Polly down seemed to disappear. She looked around, realizing that Uncle Frank had also disappeared. “Where is Uncle Frank?”

“He and Maddie went to take over watching the children for Emma Jane. She had to get Moses home for his nap,” Ma said.

The children! Polly’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, no! I forgot all about them! What kind of nanny am I?”

Ma smiled. “The kind who has a loving family to support her when she needs them. When I was going through all the things I did with your pa, there were plenty of times I forgot about the children, and I was always grateful to find that you had things well in hand. I suppose it’s high time we paid you back.”

Picking up an apron and tying it around herself, Ma continued. “It’s a fine line between meddling and doing what’s needed to help someone we love. I daresay we often cross it more than we think we do, and more than some folks like. But as long as you know it’s rooted in love, sometimes you just need to let it go.”

Then Ma handed her a bucket of potatoes. “Mostly, though, I think we all have to be grateful that we have someone to care about us, since there’s lots of folks who do without. Now you get to work on peeling these here potatoes so Maddie’s not behind in fixing supper. There’s a time for talking, but then there’s time to get work done or else we’ll have lots of complaining over not having a decent supper.”

Polly couldn’t help but grin as she dutifully took the bucket of potatoes and carried them to the table. As she peeled potatoes, she noticed that Ma had put both Mary and Will to work, even though they had their own house down the street. Watching the easy banter between everyone, Polly couldn’t imagine why she’d wanted anything more.

True, she hated peeling potatoes above all else, but Maddie’s kitchen was full of the kind of warmth that didn’t come from a fire.

Her heart ached as she realized Mitch’s children had never had that until now. And wouldn’t when Polly left. Though she’d told them that she’d stay as long as she was needed, Polly couldn’t imagine that such a time would ever come.

After all, who better to love Mitch’s children than Polly? If all those other nannies hadn’t been able to see into their hearts and care for them, could someone else?

Which then begged the question, was she wrong in refusing to see Mitch as a romantic possibility?

Polly sighed. No, romance with Mitch was about more than just what was best for the children. Mitch might have admitted being attracted to Polly earlier, but he was also equally firm on the notion that attraction didn’t make for a lasting marriage.

As she finished the last potato, the back door opened, and the children came running in.

“Polly!” The chorus of happy voices filled Polly’s heart and made it more full than she could have possibly imagined.

She set the potato down, wiped her hands on her apron, then stood and gathered the children in her arms. How all five managed to fit into that embrace, she didn’t know, but as far as Polly was concerned, it was the perfect fit.

Once their hug was complete, the children all started chattering about their day, how they enjoyed Sunday school and how much fun they’d had with Emma Jane and her baby, Moses.

She could almost not hear for all the din, but she caught enough snatches of words to know that here, in Leadville, the Taylor children were blossoming. She uttered a silent prayer, thanking God for giving her this treasure she hadn’t even known she’d wanted.

Maddie entered, pulling off her hat and muttering about all the commotion in her kitchen.

Polly grinned. Everything was right in the Lassiter house. “Come on, children, let’s go into the parlor, and you can each take a turn telling me about your day.”

They didn’t need another invitation, as all five raced out of the kitchen. Polly started to follow them, but Uncle Frank gently took her by the arm.

“I’m sorry I missed out on the entire conversation in the kitchen, but I knew you’d be concerned about the children and I wanted to keep that worry at bay. I want you to know that I heard you, and I understand. Sometimes we do meddle too much. I’m sorry. I hope you know that we only do so because you are so very dear to us, and we only want the best for you.”

Polly nodded, tears once again filling her eyes.

“I also hope you know that Mitch is a fine man. He’s been hurt deeply, but I believe that when he finally allows himself to love and be loved, it’s going to be a deep love that can’t be shaken. A woman would be most fortunate to have a man like that.”

She could only shake her head as she left the room to join the children. But this time, rather than being annoyed at the not-so-subtle attempt at pushing her in Mitch’s direction, warmth filled Polly’s heart knowing that the people around her truly cared. Not just for her, but for Mitch.

As she reached the parlor, the front door opened, and Mitch came in.

“There you are. I was wondering where you’d gone,” she said, offering him a smile. “The children were just about to tell me about their day. You should join us.”

His eyes met hers, and she saw something in them she didn’t understand. A connection, yes, but something deeper. But as they entered the parlor and the same five children who’d so eagerly embraced her wrapped their arms around their father, the connection was broken. With a promise that they had much to discuss later.

Chapter Sixteen

M
itch had been too busy since returning home the previous afternoon to speak with Polly alone. He didn’t know what to say to her, except that he felt as though there were too many unsaid things between them.

“It’s a fine day, isn’t it?” Polly said, stepping in line with him as they walked to the Steele house to collect on their tea invitation.

Their party, consisting of Mitch, Polly, Will and Mary, seemed fine for afternoon tea, but Mitch worried that it wasn’t right to have the women along to confront James Booth.

“You don’t have to do this,” Mitch said, looking over at Polly. “The kind of man Booth is...”

“We have a deputy with us, and Will says that Nick Steele has helped them on many an occasion. Besides—” her eyes met his “—I don’t want you to have to do this alone.”

Alone. Mitch swallowed the word, but it stuck in his throat. He’d been alone for a long time, and while part of him reveled in having Polly by his side, the other part of him was just waiting for her to decide to leave.

“I have Will,” he said. “He apologized to me this morning, just so you know. Said he was wrong to interfere and he was sorry.”

Then Mitch grinned. “But he did say it wasn’t permission to break your heart.”

He’d have liked to have told the other man that Polly’s heart wasn’t in as much danger as his, but their friendship was still too tenuous. All of his relationships were too tenuous, but after last night, he’d vowed to make them better. Starting with Andrew. Mitch would have liked to have talked to his brother before they visited Booth, but there wasn’t enough time. So later, when the dust settled, Mitch would stop by and work on undoing that wrong.

Pink tinged Polly’s cheeks, but she turned her head away before Mitch could examine it further. Did Polly have feelings for him?

Attraction, yes. They’d both admitted their mutual attraction in some ways, but for him, it wasn’t enough. Where he might have said something flirtatious in response to Polly’s blush, Mitch remained silent. Apparently, Polly didn’t want to talk about Will’s pronouncement either, so they continued their walk to the Steele house without further conversation.

The Steele house was a smallish abode, larger than the typical Leadville home, but nothing nearly so grand as the mansions in Denver. Andrew had explained it to him when he’d arrived that the expense of getting materials to Leadville necessitated the smaller homes. Mitch had been astonished at the much higher cost of goods in Andrew’s store, but when he saw the shipping costs, he’d understood.

As a maid led them into the parlor, Mitch saw the evidence of the Steele family’s social standing. From the thick luxurious carpets, to the silk wall hangings and the gold leaf ornamenting every accessory, the room demanded respect for the amount of money that had gone into its decor.

Mitch eyed a chair that was designed more for appearance than comfort. He appreciated that while the Lassiter house was one of the larger homes in town, which would have ordinarily screamed “wealth,” the comfortable furniture and modest arrangement made it seem far more like a home than this showplace.

A tall thin man with a long beard entered the room. “Will Lawson! Such a pleasure to have you in my home.”

Will shook the man’s hand. “Nick. Nice to be here. I’d like you to meet my friend I was telling you about, Mitch Taylor. And you remember, of course, my wife, Mary, and our dear friend Polly.”

“So glad to meet you,” Nick Steele said, shaking Mitch’s hand. “I am terribly sorry to hear about your troubles.”

The man looked to be only a few years older than Mitch, and his welcoming appearance made Mitch think Nick was the sort of man he could be friends with. His expression was genuine, warm and open.

“Thank you. I appreciate you allowing us the opportunity.”

Before Nick could answer, three ladies entered the room.

“Ah, here they are. I’m sure you all remember Eleanor, and my dear wife, Patricia, and this is Laura Booth, our houseguest.” He smiled amiably, then turned his gaze on Laura Booth. “But where is your husband? I thought he’d be joining us.”

She blushed, then looked at the ground. “He hasn’t yet returned from last night’s festivities.”

A dark expression flashed across Nick’s face, but then he gave the woman a gentle look. “There now, it’s not your fault. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for his absence.”

Mrs. Booth murmured noncommittally, then exchanged glances with Patricia Steele. Clearly, the women were in each other’s confidence, and from their expressions, neither was surprised by Booth’s actions.

Mrs. Steele gestured toward the uncomfortable-looking chairs and an equally uninviting set of sofas. “Please, sit. We have tea and refreshments. I am so grateful to you all for helping with Eleanor’s wedding planning. I had no idea just how neglected she’s been feeling.”

She gave her daughter a loving smile, and Mitch wondered if there’d been something in the air that had caused so many heartfelt conversations yesterday.

Eleanor smiled back. “It’s all right, Mother. I should have said something sooner.”

Then Eleanor looked over at Mary and Polly. “I saw Emma Jane Jackson at the dressmaker’s this morning. She was so gracious, just as you said she would be. I can’t believe she offered to host a luncheon at the Jackson Mansion in honor of our wedding. However, she did tell me I was wrong not to discuss my feelings with Mother and insisted I go right home to talk to her. So I did.”

Mrs. Booth gave her daughter an indulgent smile, then turned her attention back to Polly and Mary. “I cannot thank you enough for the kindness you did for Eleanor. And to also have a word with Mrs. Jasper Jackson on her behalf...it is almost too much.”

“Mother,” Eleanor chided. “She told me that we are to call her Emma Jane.”

Mitch watched the interplay with interest, not so much that he cared anything about the matters of the heart, but because he saw again the strength of Polly’s character. She and Mary had gone round to see Emma Jane after supper to tell her about Eleanor’s plight. He’d been so used to seeing women of standing wielding their power like weapons, forcing others to bend to their will and shunning anyone who didn’t fit the expectations of society. Which was why his children had fared so poorly in Denver.

Here, Polly, Mary and their friends used their social standing to bring others up, to help them and do good. His children had been embraced by the other children, in large part due to Polly’s influence. As the women continued to banter back and forth in a pleasant conversation about weddings, he couldn’t help but continue to marvel at how engaging Polly was, even in conversation about what had to be her least favorite subject—weddings.

The front door opened, and from his vantage point, Mitch could see two men enter. Nick stood.

“Baxter? Is that you?”

“Oh, Baxter, darling, you’ve returned!” Eleanor jumped up and by the time the two men had reached the doorway, she had gone to meet him with all the enthusiasm of a young bride in love.

“I’m sorry it took so long.” He kissed her cheek, then gently pushed the other man into the room. “Probably too drunk to be of much use, but you can try.”

Then he seemed to notice the other women in the room. “Begging your pardons, ma’ams. Didn’t mean to subject you to such indelicacies.”

“It’s all right, Baxter.” Nick waved a hand at one of the sofas. “Why don’t you help Mr. Booth take a seat, and then we can have ourselves a nice chat?”

“I’m sorry,” Laura Booth whispered. “I didn’t mean for him to be any trouble.”

“None doing,” Nick said, shaking his head. “You didn’t force him to go out. You didn’t force him to drink. Seems to me that a man has to own up to his behavior and not hide behind his sweet wife.”

Then he looked over at Booth. “How drunk are you?”

“I’m not drunk,” Booth muttered, staggering into the couch before sitting. “Can’t believe you took me away from my winning streak for a tea party.”

“Actually,” Will said, “it’s not a tea party.”

Booth looked over at his wife. “You’d better not be trying to divorce me again. You know what happened last time.”

The poor woman blanched, and Mrs. Steele patted her hand.

“No.” Nick glared at him. “But if she should want to divorce you, my wife and I are happy to give her our full support. Especially after we discuss what Will is here to talk to you about.”

“I don’t owe you money, do I?” Booth’s speech was slurred, proving his claims to be sober a lie.

“No,” Will said. “But you do owe us some answers.”

Booth tried staggering to his feet. “I swear I thought that mining stock was valid.”

Baxter held out an arm, keeping him from standing.

“That’s not what this is about, but I’ll be asking the sheriff to look into any mining stock you might have sold.”

Will grinned. “Now, is there any other dirty laundry you’d like to air before we ask you about Hattie Winston?”

Booth turned a shade of sickly green. “The husband did it. It was all over the papers.”

The desperation in the other man’s voice almost made Mitch feel sorry for him. There was no doubt in his mind now that James Booth had killed Hattie.

“Why didn’t anyone see the husband at your hotel?” Will asked.

“We had dinner with them there the night he killed her.” Then Booth glared at his wife. “Didn’t we, my dear?”

His menacing tone made Mitch want to cringe. Had they had dinner together, he and Mrs. Booth would have recognized one another, but even when they’d been introduced, she didn’t seem to even know the name.

Mrs. Steele turned to Mrs. Booth, a quizzical look on her face. “How is that possible? We had dinner with you that night, and as I recall, you were with us most of the evening.”

She then turned her attention to Booth. “Of course, you left early, but I am certain that Laura was with us the rest of the night. You might have had a second dinner with the poor woman who was killed and her husband, but Laura wasn’t there. We had an interesting conversation on making your own lace rather than buying it as I recall.”

Mrs. Steele looked over at Laura. “And don’t think I don’t remember that you said you’d help me with Eleanor’s lace. I’ve never seen a girl who wanted so much lace in all my life.”

Will made a noise. “So, Booth, tell me again how you and your wife had dinner with Hattie and her husband.”

“Well.” Booth looked around the room. “I suppose we might have mixed up our days, but I’m certain we’ve entertained Hattie and her husband. Hattie confessed to me that she was terrified of him.”

Mitch’s stomach clenched, and he felt Polly’s hand on his arm. She hadn’t needed to stop him from saying anything, but it felt good to know that he didn’t need to say anything for her to see how ridiculous Booth’s claims were.

“Do you recall what Hattie’s husband looked like?” Will’s question was casual and seemed almost crazy, considering Mitch was sitting right there. But then, had Booth actually dined with them, he would have recognized Mitch right away.

“I can’t quite rightly remember,” Booth said slowly, shifting in his seat, then adjusting his already loosened tie. “It’s been a while, and I do meet a lot of people. Quite an unremarkable man I suppose, except, of course, that he killed his wife.”

Polly made a funny noise. When Mitch glanced at her, he could see the mirth in her eyes. Booth’s obvious lies would never hold up in court.

“And could you tell me why your cuff links were in Hattie’s room, covered in her blood?” Will leaned in toward Booth.

Booth’s eyes widened. “I paid good money for that deputy to—” Then he realized what he was saying. “That is, they were quite expensive, and I had a deputy looking into their theft. Whoever stole them must have killed that poor woman.”

Mitch took a deep breath. No wonder they’d done such a shoddy job investigating Hattie’s murder. Clearly, Booth had paid someone to hide evidence of Booth’s presence and place the blame on Mitch.

“And the expensive gifts you gave Hattie? The fur coat? Was that just in friendship, then?” Will’s voice was calm, but as Mitch glanced around the room, he saw tears running down Laura Booth’s face.

“That little—” Booth’s face turned red. “She wasn’t supposed to— That is, she...”

Booth stopped speaking. Looked around the room again. “Which one of you’s the law?”

“I am,” Will said. “At least here in Leadville. But I’m sure once we have a chat with my good friends in Denver, they’ll be mighty interested in your story.”

Booth grinned. “I doubt it. I have too many friends in Denver. Deputies who have the ear of the sheriff. No one will believe you.”

“Yes they will,” Baxter said. He looked up at Will. “I’d stand, but I think we’ll keep Booth close. In all the chaos over Eleanor’s disappointment in our wedding plans, and then everything today, we were never properly introduced. Baxter Campbell, US Marshal. They’ll believe us.”

This time a giggle slipped out of Polly as Eleanor beamed. “He saved one of Papa’s silver shipments after it was robbed. Brought down a whole gang of bandits. He’s a real hero, just like in the dime novels.” Eleanor gave a long sigh as she looked at her fiancé.

“It was a group effort,” Baxter said, giving his intended a loving smile. “I’ve been on leave, spending time with Eleanor and preparing for our wedding. But I’m afraid that once we’re married and I’m back to work, she’s not going to think my job so romantic.”

Will grinned. “Pleased to have you on board. I’m sure Mary will be more than happy to help Eleanor adjust to being a lawman’s wife. While we’re making introductions, I might as well make one of my own.”

He gestured toward Mitch. “This here’s Mitch Taylor. Hattie Winston’s husband.”

Mitch couldn’t help but smile as he watched Booth turn white. “When did you say we had dinner again?”

“I...well, I suppose...” For a moment, Booth looked as though he was going to explode. But then calm spread across his face as he smiled.

“You know, for someone so nosy, you have a lot of secrets, Taylor,” Booth said.

“What do you mean?” Mitch could feel the gazes turn on him. He had nothing to hide, so why was Booth acting like he did?