Annie's Song (8 page)

Edie pressed the back of her wrist to her forehead and started to pace, her agitation apparent in every rigid line of her body. The judge watched her for several seconds, then he looked at Alex, his gaze filled with questions. Well aware of what he must be thinking, Alex softly said, “I’m aware of the risks, Judge.

I’m willing to take my chances. If it should happen that there’s something wrong with the child, I’ll see that it’s kept quiet and have it institutionalized, just as you originally planned. No gossip, no scandal.

We’ll say the child died or that I sent it away to relatives.”

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The older man shot him a warning glare, then glanced at his pacing wife, clearly afraid she might have overheard. He relaxed slightly when she continued circling the study, apparently oblivious of the exchange.

“I don’t know,” he said under his breath. “If word got out, it could ruin me. I really think it’s best if we simply—”

“I’m not giving you a choice,” Alex inserted.

The judge’s pupils dilated, turning his irises nearly black. “Is that a threat?”

“A promise,” Alex corrected. “Fight me on this, and you can kiss your chances for public office goodbye.”

The man’s neck turned dull red. After staring at Alex for a long moment, he returned his gaze to his wife.

“Edie, it’s the best solution we’ve come up with yet. Annie wouldn’t be with Alex forever, only for a few months.”

Mrs. Trimble shook her head vehemently. “No. I’d rather do as we planned earlier and find someone out of town to care for her until she has the child.”

That made absolutely no sense. His patience fraying, Alex settled onto a chair and fixed the judge with a relentless gaze. “There’s more to consider here than just Mrs. Trimble’s wishes,” he said carefully. “My plan would be better for Annie, certainly. And the child won’t be put into an orphanage.”

Edie whirled on Alex, her eyes sparking with anger. “The child is not your concern, Mr. Montgomery!

None of this is.”

It was all Alex could do to keep his temper. “I disagree. The child is very much my concern, and if there’s a way to avoid its being raised in an institution, that’s what we have to do.”

“Edie,” the judge said softly, “why don’t you go to the kitchen and prepare some tea?’’

She made fists in her skirt. “Tea? You’re deciding my daughter’s future, and you expect me to brew tea?”

“Yes.” Though softly spoken, the judge’s reply was an unmistakable order. “I’m still the man of this house. Ultimately, I must make the decision, and you must abide by it.”

Turning a murderous glare on Alex, Mrs. Trimble swept from the room, her cheeks spotted with crimson, her mouth drawn into a tight line.

Immediately after her departure, some of the tension in the study dissipated. Alex took advantage of the momentary privacy to relate to the judge what Dr. Muir had said, namely his assurances that Annie’s affliction had been caused by a high fever.

“And if he’s wrong?” the judge asked.

“What if he isn’t?” Alex countered. “A perfectly normal child stuck in an orphanage and tagged as unadoptable? The way I see it, I have to take the chance. And, like it or not, you’re going to take it with
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me. This is your grandchild and my niece or nephew we’re talking about. We owe it at least this much.”

Trimble considered that for a moment, then he finally nodded. “Just so long as you’re going into it with your eyes open. Muir means well, and I’m sure he believes what he’s saying, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t be wrong.”

“Let’s pray he isn’t.”

That settled, the two men discussed the particulars, and within five minutes, both had agreed that a marriage between Alex and Annie should take place as quickly as possible. When Edie returned to the room, the judge gently informed her of their decision about the marriage, which both men hoped would take place within the week, the only prerequisite being that Alex find a competent live-in nurse.

When his wife began to protest, the judge cut her short with, “That will be enough, Edie. This is best.

Trust me on that.”

Defeated, Mrs. Trimble sank onto the settee beside her husband and folded her hands tightly on her lap.

“But, James, he knows nothing of how to handle her.”

“Neither would a nurse in another town,” Alex pointed out.

“At least then I might have exercised some control in matters,” she shot back. “Putting our daughter into inexperienced hands could undo all the years of training I’ve worked so hard to instill in her.”

Alex rubbed his temple, silently cursing the headache that throbbed behind his eyes. Though he couldn’t understand the woman, her concerns still had to be addressed. “Mrs. Trimble, I’ll happily allow you to confer with the nurse I hire, if that’s your worry. You can instruct her in Annie’s care, just as you would have a nurse elsewhere.”

Some of the rigidity eased from her slender body. “You truly wouldn’t mind?”

Alex dredged up a smile, albeit a weak one. “Of course not. It isn’t as if this will be a marriage in fact.

It’s a convenient arrangement, nothing more. If anything, I’ll be grateful for your input and experience in dealing with Annie.”

For a long moment, she searched Alex’s gaze. Then she finally returned his smile. “Perhaps this will be a workable situation, after all,” she conceded.

“I certainly hope so. Otherwise, I wouldn’t offer,” Alex assured her.

“Annie is a difficult girl,” she hurried to add. “She must be made to follow strict rules, you understand, or she becomes intractable. You may pooh-pooh my worries, but the fact is, if Annie becomes uncontrollable, it will necessitate her being committed to a sanitarium, and as her mother, I want to avoid that at all costs.”

Finally, Alex began to understand what drove the woman. As upset as she had been about Annie’s being sent away, at least then she would have had some control over her care. Her objections to Alex marrying Annie stemmed from fear, nothing more. “I give you my word that I’ll adopt all your rules for Annie and strictly enforce them,” Alex promised her. “And you can spend as much time as necessary instructing the nurse I hire so she will carry on with Annie exactly as you would if you were there to supervise.”

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Edie heaved a relieved sigh. “Thank you, Mr. Montgomery. That makes me feel much more at ease with this situation.”

Hoping that was the end of it, Alex rose from his chair, only to sit back down again when Edie Trimble launched into a long list of instructions regarding her daughter’s care. Annie was never to be taken to town; crowds of people unsettled her. Pencils or pens were taboo; the girl might injure herself with them.

Never, not under any circumstances, was Annie to be allowed to make sound; once she got started, it was impossible to silence her, and the din she could raise was earsplitting.

By the time the woman wound down, Alex’s head was swimming and he seriously doubted he would be able to remember anything she had told him. Even so, he promised to observe each and every rule to the letter. Anything to get out of there.

Before taking his leave, Alex shook hands with the judge on their agreement and promised to begin his search for a live-in nurse immediately. As he left the house, he paused in the foyer to gaze at the second-story landing, wondering which door along the upper hallway led to Annie’s room. As ashamed as it made him feel to admit it, until that moment, Alex hadn’t given much thought to Annie’s reaction to all of this. Recalling her terror of him four months ago, he could only pray she had forgotten all about Douglas and what he had done to her. If not—well, it didn’t bear thinking about.

The wedding date was set for one week later, and Alex arrived on the Trimbles’ doorstep at precisely ten o’clock on the appointed morning to make Annie his lawfully wedded wife. The plan sounded simple enough: a quick marriage, a few months of looking after Annie, and then he would send the girl back to her parents. What could possibly go wrong? It seemed to Alex the answer to that question was everything. The instant he stepped into the house, he began to have doubts, a whole host of them.

Like a curious child who’d been sent upstairs while guests were present, Annie sat on the landing that overlooked the foyer, her small face bracketed by mahogany balusters, her eyes wide with bewilderment as she watched all the goings-on below. Reverend Widlow, the minister who was to officiate at the ceremony, had arrived just seconds before Alex and was being shown into the parlor by a servant. Two hired men were carrying one of Annie’s trunks downstairs. Maids were scurrying to and fro. Anyone could see that something out of the ordinary was about to occur.

As Alex stepped into the foyer, Annie went absolutely still, and every drop of blood seemed to drain from her face. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that she believed him to be Douglas. Given her intellectual disabilities, he could think of no way to disabuse her of the notion. As people were so fond of reminding him, he was the “spittin’ image” of his brother. To Alex, the resemblance didn’t seem quite that pronounced, but to Annie, who undoubtedly recalled everything about Douglas in a nightmarish blur, the differences between them might not seem so apparent.

Afraid of making her panic, Alex came to a dead stop. Even at a distance of twenty feet, he could feel her fear. Electrical, it hung in the air between them, raising goose flesh along his spine.

Six-two in his stocking feet, he stood a head taller than most men. For a score of different reasons, there
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had been a number of times when he wished he were smaller, but never quite so much as in that moment.

Before entering the house, he’d removed his hat, so he couldn’t jerk it off now to make himself look shorter. Judging by the stark terror in Annie’s eyes, slumping his shoulders wasn’t helping much, either.

He was a big man. There was little he could do to disguise that fact. With a girl like Annie, who had every reason to be frightened, that was a definite strike against him.

If she’d been able to communicate, he might have been able to reassure her. As it was, all he could do was stand there and try to convey with his gaze what he couldn’t express with words, namely that he was not cut from the same cloth as his brother. He would never dream of harming her, or allow anyone else to, for that matter.

“Hello, Annie,” he said softly.

As he spoke, her attention shifted to his mouth, and an expression of total bewilderment crossed her face. Alex’s heart sank, for he had hoped she might understand a few words, at least. Seeing that she didn’t, he shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and made tight fists.

The way she stared at him made him feel like a monster. A very large monster. He flashed what he prayed was a harmless-looking smile, but his face felt so stiff he feared it was more a grimace. Deciding she might realize he wasn’t Douglas if she got a better look at him, he moved a bit closer.

For some reason, he hadn’t imagined her as being so small. Narrow shoulders, tiny feet, fragile limbs.

He doubted she’d tip the scales at a hundred pounds fully clothed.

Over the years, he had met a number of women he might have described as delicate, but even that seemed too sturdy an adjective for Annie. She put him in mind of handblown crystal. Her face was heart-shaped, her features finely sculpted and as close to perfect as any he’d ever seen. Her short, straight little nose slanted from between dark, elegantly arched brows.

As he drew closer, she shifted her position slightly. By her tenseness, he guessed she meant to bolt if he made any sudden moves. A smothered smile spread warmth through his chest when he saw she had lifted one knee slightly. From her vantage point, she was decently covered. But looking at her from the ground up, such was not the case. Like most bloomers, hers had an opening at the crotch, and she wore no petticoats to obstruct his view.

He jerked his attention back to her face. Scalding heat inched up his neck. Looking into her eyes, he tried to ascertain if she’d noticed where his gaze had wandered. Those eyes. Startlingly large and the color of a cloudless sky on a hot summer day, they were completely guileless.

A practical man to the marrow of his bones, Alex had never believed in all the nonsense men spouted during courtships. While looking into a woman’s eyes, the closest he’d ever come to drowning was when he broke out in a sweat, and that from lust. But Annie’s eyes were different. He didn’t feel as though he were drowning, exactly. But close. Mighty damned close. Sort of like a fish gaffed through both gills, her big blue eyes the line that was hauling him in.

She was such a helpless little thing. And so horribly vulnerable. Marrying her was the lesser of two evils, no question about that. But even so, he hated to be instrumental in bringing her more pain. It was like having a wobbly fawn in his rifle sights and pulling the trigger.

As he studied her, Alex noticed a bit of blue on a baluster to her right. To his surprise, he saw that she’d wrapped her hair ribbon around the post in a perfect spiral, similar to that on a barber pole or a
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peppermint stick. He wondered if she liked candy canes and made a mental note to buy her several the next time he went to town.

Sweets for the sweet...

“Alex, my good man.”

The unexpected greeting made Alex jerk. He turned to see James Trimble emerging from the parlor.

Given the reason for this gathering, he couldn’t fathom why the man was grinning so broadly. As far as Alex could see, this was no occasion to celebrate.

“James,” he said evenly.

By way of polite greeting, Alex knew he should probably say something more, but for the life of him, he couldn’t dredge up a pleasantry. What could he say? That he was glad to see him? Frankly, he wasn’t.