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The man had the good grace to look properly chastised. "I'm.. I'm sorry, Muffin."

"Don't call me that," Amanda retorted, though her words were muffled as she hid her face in the curve of Jaci's neck. "Uncle Nicholas is the only one who can call me that."

Cameron looked taken back and somewhat embarrassed. Perhaps she should work on him as long as he was home. He might be more receptive to change than his brother. But the thought of taking on any more dysfunctional family challenges drained her of strength. She managed a weak smile of welcome.

"Good day, Cameron. I am Jaci Eastman, Amanda's governess. Your brother is resting comfortably, but we did move him to the study. If you would like to see him, I'm sure he's awake. Even if he isn't, see him anyway, because he should be awake. Selkirk can show you the way."

Cameron looked quite startled that anyone would speak about his brother that way. She figured she would have to explain her behavior eventually, knowing the younger brother had no idea what the household staff had been through during the past month.

"I need to put Amanda down for a nap. You are welcome to speak with your brother, and I shall see you at dinner." As Amanda clung to her neck, she realized she looked forward to setting Cameron Westbrooke down and explaining quite a few things to the errant young man.

Chapter Fourteen

Nicholas heard Jaci's comments, since no one saw fit to close his door and allow him any privacy. His life was no longer his own, and Cameron's appearance only confirmed that. They needn't have summoned Cameron. During all their years growing up, and even after they reached adulthood, Nicholas had been the one to fix things, not Cam. What was his younger brother supposed to do now except make Nicholas feel more guilty at the idea of having another person around whom he couldn't support?

"Nicholas?" The timid query came from near the door, and Nicholas's heart ached at the sound of that voice.

His eyes stung and his arms longed to clasp his brother close. Still, he feigned sleep when Cameron whispered his name, because he couldn't force himself to face the little brother who had always looked up to him.

At least in this instance, someone gave him a little respect. The door closed quietly and he was left alone again.

* * *

Nicholas might have known his peace wouldn't last. Instead of Jaci bringing him breakfast as she had done practically every day since his accident, this morning Cameron hoisted the tray. With the efficiency of a military sergeant, Cam deposited the tray on the table by the bed, marched to the curtains and flung them open, and turned to face Nicholas, hands on hips. He squinted against the bright sunshine.

"My God, man, you look horrendous." Whereas last night Cameron's voice had Nicholas longing for his attention, this morning he could as well do without his false cheerfulness.

"Close the curtain, Cam."

"No; can't be done. Miss Eastman says sunshine is good for the soul."

Nicholas groaned. Did everyone on this entire earth quote Jaci Eastman? Of course they did; he'd been hearing it for weeks.

Cameron sauntered back towards the bed, catching up the breakfast tray. "Here, scoot yourself up so you can eat this while it's hot. I brought two cups; thought I'd join you for a cup of coffee."

Nicholas raised a brow and started to argue, but knowing he hadn't won in more days than he could count, decided against it. Besides, the aromas coming from the covered dish were too tempting. Using the strength of his arms, he pulled against the headboard, dragging his body into a more upright position.

Cameron set the tray in his lap, grabbed a cup and poured them both coffee, before sitting in a side chair and propping his booted feet on the bed.

"Are you quite comfortable?" Nicholas groused.

"Actually, no, I would be more comfortable at the breakfast table. But since you're in here and refuse to come out, I guess this will do--for awhile." Cameron never looked at Nicholas the whole time he was talking, and Nicholas wondered where he got the bravado to speak so. Cameron had always been quiet; not shy, exactly--just not aggressive.

He decided his brother's comments didn't warrant a response, at least not until he ate. Regardless of his outlook on life at the moment, he couldn't resist Delta's cooking.

After he had appeased the worst of his appetite, he asked around a mouthful of eggs and ham. "Why aren't you at the shipyards?"

"You know we have effective managers in place. The last two years have even shown a profit." Cameron hesitated. "I only spend my time there to...forget."

Even through his own pain, Nicholas understood Cameron's inability to cope with the loss of Sarah, his wife. Still, it made him feel more of a cripple, knowing that Cameron had only come home because Nicholas could no longer handle Wildwood. He scowled at the thought.

"Miss Eastman and I had quite a nice visit last evening over dinner." Cameron changed the subject. "Wherever did you find her?"

"She more or less fell at my feet," Nicholas replied sarcastically.

Cam sighed. "The women always did that around you. I don't see why, especially considering your rather surly disposition and disheveled appearance."

Nicholas finished chewing the eggs and ham before he said, "If you came home simply to harass me, you can leave on the next ship out of harbor. I already get all the badgering I can take from the lowest servant right up to your inestimable Miss Eastman."

Cameron set aside his cup and began pacing. A frown replaced the normal smile on his brother's face. And still, Nicholas egged him on. "What's this? The carefree, never responsible Cameron Westbrooke with a studious look upon his face. This must be dire."

"Damn it, Nick, why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

Cameron's hands gestured hopelessly. "Being obnoxious; a bore." He paused. "Giving up." His hands dropped to his sides and he stood there, looking at Nicholas with the same expression he had when their parents had died.
Fix it,
his gaze pleaded.
You're my big brother and you can make it all better.

Nicholas looked away, unable to answer. Did he have the strength to change? Did he have the courage?

* * *

"Uncle Nicholas?" The words were soft and tentative. When he turned his head to the door, he saw Amanda, eyes full of tears and a lip that trembled even as she tried to make it stop.

No matter what else in the world had gone awry, Amanda was surely not to blame, and Nicholas cursed himself for excluding her. Jaci's words echoed in his head--
She thinks the accident is her fault.

He opened his arms wide and without hesitation, Amanda raced across the huge room and flung herself at him. The poor child sobbed against his chest as he held her tight, soothing her with a stroke of his big hand to her back.

His catharsis was quieter, for it wasn't manly to cry, but the tears silently coursing down his cheeks were nevertheless cleansing.

"Papa's home." She sniffled once she had cried herself out.

"So I've heard, Muffin. He did come to see me, you know." He wiped her eyes with a corner of the sheet.

She wiggled around until she was seated cross-legged on the bed. Nicholas flinched when she accidentally kicked him with the toe of her shoe, and thought Mrs. Jeffrey would have a fit if she knew the youngster had her shoes on the bed. It made no difference, though, for in the joy surrounding the precocious five-year-old, nothing else mattered.

He had forgotten how much energy Amanda had and how happily she embraced life. As he watched her face light up over an explanation of Sir Lancelot and the kittens, "again", she had said, he felt the tightness in his chest loosen and begin to fall away.

"At first, Papa wouldn't let me go to the barn for the kittens. He said it was too cold and too far away and I was too little." She made a face and gave a huge sigh.

"Aren't the two of you getting along?"

She gave him a mournful look, her lips pursed as she shrugged her shoulders. "He doesn't know how to play."

Suddenly she gave a gasp of delight, crawling around on the bed, jostling everything. When she got as close as possible to his face, she put one small hand on each of his cheeks and looked him right in the eyes. "You can teach him, Uncle Nicholas. He's a very nice papa, I suppose, but he's got to lighten up."

He was sure his face registered surprise at her choice of words.
Lighten up?
A phrase like that could only have come from Miss Eastman.

"I will speak to him about it, Muffin. I am sorry it's taken so long for me to understand, and I hope you will forgive me."

Amanda gave him a big hug. "Oh, Uncle Nicholas, I don't have to forgive you; I love you."

* * *

Nicholas didn't realize the extent of his healing--at least the emotional side--until he accidentally overheard Cameron visiting with Jaci. The weather had turned unusually nice, and the two of them were walking outside. As was her penchant of late, she had opened his window slightly when she had brought in his breakfast. Nicholas didn't consider it eavesdropping; he certainly couldn't help but overhear considering his inability to get up and close the window.

"Why does she say that?" Cameron asked.

"Say what?" Jaci returned, and Nicholas debated for a moment to whom they referred.

"
I love you, Papa.
How can she love me?" Cam's voice sounded anguished, and Nicholas began to understand that his brother wanted Amanda after all; he simply didn't know how to go about it. "I haven't seen her a dozen times since her birth."

"A child's love is unconditional, Cameron. She loves you, and Nicholas, because you are her family, not because of what you give her or how much attention you show her." Although Jaci discussed Amanda, there was a wistful note in her voice. "She may crave that attention, but she doesn't need it to love you. Love appears to be something that, once given, can't be retracted or even re-channeled."

"Is that the case with you?" Cameron asked the question, but suddenly the answer was very important to Nicholas, and he leaned forward in bed to hear her reply. Unfortunately, they were walking away from the windows, and he only caught snatches of the rest of the conversation.

"Right now, Nicholas is belligerent and far from giving, but--love--unconditional. It's no wonder I steered clear--love--desperately."

He laid back against the pillows. His heart pounded hard enough to make his head ache. He was frustrated at not hearing all of what she had to say, but told himself it didn't matter. He had no right now, to ask her to love him, but how had she fallen in love with Cameron so fast, if in fact, that was their topic of discussion?

He thought over her words to Cameron, and wondered if love was as absolute for adults as it was for children. He felt an ache in the region of his heart, wishing for a happier world, where Jaci was his as he had wanted, and that he was whole.

If nothing else good had come from his accident, though, at least Cam was beginning to understand Amanda. It was time the two of them learned to be a family. He thought about never having babies to bounce on his knee and watch grow into adults to carry on the legacy of Wildwood. He groaned with the intensity of a stirring deep in his groin. He hated the fact that he still thought like a man and inwardly felt like a man, but couldn't perform like one.

* * *

Jaci appeared at his bedside as usual the next day. Nicholas had wondered that, with Cameron home, perhaps she would find his brother more appealing. Of course, there was also the fact that he had two good legs. However, when he asked where Cam was, Jaci absentmindedly waved off in the distance, mumbling something about the stables.

He continued studying her as she began his therapy, rubbing the muscles of his legs until he knew her hands had to ache with the constant effort. Instead of chatting gaily, as was her want, she remained unusually quiet.

"Why so quiet? Did you use all your words with Cameron out in the garden yesterday?" He hadn't meant to let that slip but jealousy made his words biting. "Do you find Cameron handsome; appealing in a manly way?" He girded himself for her answer. After all, he had no right to keep her from finding happiness.

She looked at him at last, but her expression wasn't that of someone in love. Shadows circled her eyes, their vibrant emerald color somewhat dulled. When her shoulders sagged as though in defeat, he suddenly realized how tired she must be. He mentally kicked himself for adding to her workload and taking his frustrations out on her.

"You look tired."

She gave a little sigh as she put the cork back into the bottle of lotion and placed it on the table by his bed. "I am. Amanda has a slight cold, and fussed most of the night. Molly tried to get her to sleep, but she would have no one but me." She yawned quite loudly, and Nicholas suppressed a smile. "When I rocked her, she finally slept, but I didn't."

"You should rest, instead of worrying about me."

She looked at him with surprise, as though disbelieving he would tell her not to work hard. "You're right."

Before he had time to react, she crawled right over him and into his bed.

"What on earth?" he exclaimed.

She snuggled down with her buttocks right next to his hips, yawning loudly. "If I return to my room,
they
will find me." She didn't need to explain who she meant.

After he got over his initial shock, he settled back against the headboard and contented himself to watch her sleep. A warmth spread through him. He swore he felt it from his heart clear down to his toes, which was, of course, impossible. What a difference she had made in his life. From the moment she had stumbled into his horse pen, she had turned his world topsy-turvy.

He reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, pausing his movement to caress her cheek. She was letting her hair grow, he noticed, although it was still shorter than any woman's he knew. Yet it wasn't her physical appearance that made her special. She had a strange outlook on life, and the stories she told Amanda were preposterous. He probably should worry, but oddly enough he didn't.