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Perhaps he shouldn't have offered her the job as his niece's governess. He couldn't let his emotions cloud his thinking where Amanda's welfare was concerned, and Miss Eastman's presence definitely did that.

To assure himself he had chosen correctly, he kept a close eye on the governess. He noted her comings and goings, and everything she said to Amanda. As he observed her, he could see no evidence of a recurrence of her strange behavior. Each evening before Amanda went to bed, he would sit her on his lap and question her about her day.

"What did the two of you do with yourselves today while I worked the horses?" he asked, knowing he should feel guilty. For Amanda's sake, however, he had to be sure of Miss Eastman's mental stability.

"Oh, Uncle Nicholas, Miss Eastman is the most marvelous person. We walked under the trees and she told me a story about why the leaves turn colors." Amanda snuggled deeper against his chest, and he hugged her tight.

"I will judge if you learned your lesson well. Tell me the story about the leaves."

Amanda squirmed around to see him better, her face animated. "You see, a very long time ago, when something died, it was put in the sky as a star picture. One picture is of an Indian hunter. I don't remember his name. Since he was a hunter he still had to hunt in the sky, you know, so a big bear was put up there, too. When the hunter shot the bear, the blood dripped down and turned the leaves red. And when the hunter cooked the bear, its fat splattered all over and turned other leaves yellow."

"Miss Eastman told you all that? I shall have to speak with her about telling you such lies."

"Oh, you can't do that. It's a--" She screwed up her face in thought. "I don't remember the word, but it's a story from long ago. It's not something that really happened, you see." She spoke with such sincerity Nicholas almost smiled. In the span of a few short weeks, she had apparently developed quite a fondness for Miss Eastman.

"I believe the word you want is legend, Muffin, and I'm glad you realize the story is pretend. We don't have Indians in the sky hunting bears anymore."

Amanda giggled. "I know that, but it does make the bestest story. Tomorrow I will have to find Toby and Travis and tell them."

Amanda yawned and snuggled closer, and he sat, content to hold her. It amazed him that Cameron didn't want a family. How could a person not long to share and converse with others, teach them values, and love them?

He recalled the love that had surrounded him and Cameron as they grew up. Even when he rebelled against his father and left home for a while, his parents had supported his right to venture out on his own. Lately, he had often wished for his mother's presence; she would have been much better for Amanda than he.

Even with Amanda in his home, he longed for a family of his own. The Westbrooke name and thoroughbred tradition must be considered, but he knew his desire stemmed more from the void that had developed close to his heart. The emptiness gnawed at him constantly, and was compounded today when he had received a message from Lycinda. She had begged off going to the Opera that very night. Though she pleaded a headache, Nicholas wondered if there was more to it.

Of late, he felt a hesitancy on her part whenever they conversed. He made a point of riding into the city often to see her because he didn't want her to feel neglected. Now, as he contemplated things, he couldn't envision Lycinda marrying him and being content to live out here at Wildwood.

He carried Amanda upstairs to bed and wondered idly if Miss Eastman was tucked in for the night. She had been rather stand-offish lately and seemed hesitant even to talk to him. He would have to find a way to draw her out, for he found he missed her smiles. Oddly enough, that brought his thoughts back to Lycinda.

He wasn't officially engaged to Lycinda Edwardson. Their families had known each other for years, and it had always been expected that the two of them would marry. Because of his parents' deaths and Cameron's disastrous marriage, Nicholas had never actually asked her, but neither had he told her he didn't want to marry her.

However unofficial his association with the Edwardson family, it still demanded he not act on the desire he had begun to feel for Jaci Eastman. Honor warred with desire and indecision, soon giving him a headache. He knew it would be inappropriate to focus his attention on Amanda's governess, but there was something inherently vulnerable and extremely desirable about her that drew him like a moth to a flame.

Nicholas rubbed his forehead, determined not to think any more about the women who lately were playing havoc with his life. It's no wonder he had hesitated all these years to marry.

* * *

Jaci stretched lazily towards the sun, amazed that this nice weather came their way as November crept quickly into December. As long as it remained unseasonably warm, she couldn't force herself or Amanda to remain inside. They had completed a little science experiment with shadows before she chased Amanda off to play and she had sought the shade of the side porch.

She breathed deeply of the clean, crisp air. Not a day passed when she didn't think of her sister, Mandy, and prayed for her welfare, but she had finally closed that Chapter of her life. Though still adjusting to her new life in 1874, she realized her attitude had subtly changed. She had quit grieving.

Pleased that she now walked without tripping in her long skirts, she no longer hesitated when putting layer after layer of clothes on each morning. The lack of a shower still bothered her, but Molly never complained when she requested water for a daily bath. The most pleasant parts of any day were the meals where they ate wild things like quail and pheasant and venison which was shot in the woods on Wildwood property. She often visited with Delta as the old black cook prepared scrumptious delights in what Jaci had once considered a very antique and backward kitchen. It amazed her that such light and fluffy bread came out of a wood burning stove.

At times, she knew the staff considered her a nuisance. Although she no longer tried to do anyone else's job, she did follow them around and ask questions about the estate. She wanted to learn everything, and she now considered Amanda, Mrs. Jeffrey, Delta and the rest of the staff her family.

The only person she still had trouble with was Nicholas, because she couldn't determine how to act around him. Though technically his employee, he didn't treat her as such. Some days he appeared to regard her like family--say, Amanda's maiden aunt or some such thing. Other days she would catch him staring at her, his eyes dark with passion and she knew he wanted to kiss her. While that confused her, it also made her ache with desire.

She shook her head to clear it, opening the newspaper in an effort to get her thoughts off her very handsome employer. She anxiously looked forward to the delivery of the newspaper and mail. Since she knew there would never be any letters for her, she was usually the first to latch onto the paper.

"Hmmm, at least I landed in the right era," she mused out loud as she scanned the latest news from Philadelphia. Labor reform for women and children was a hot topic, as was Temperance. "The beginnings of Women's Rights must be right around the corner." She read a short article about Mrs. Annie Wittenmyer of Philadelphia, who was named president of the Women's Christian Temperance Union. The article reported the women hoped to achieve national temperance by holding demonstrations and through education.

"Yeah, right. Good luck on that one, ladies," Jaci chuckled, thinking of Carrie Nation and the many other women who had tried, unsuccessfully, to control the distribution and consumption of alcohol.

She started to close the paper when she spotted a notice that the Philadelphia Zoo had recently opened at Fairmount Park. If the weather continued to be this mild, perhaps a trip into the city was in order. The zoo would be a marvelous excuse for a field trip.

She realized how much she enjoyed teaching Amanda, and wondered if she should look into becoming a school teacher. That way, if Nicholas ever got around to marrying, at least she would have a job. She frowned at the thought of leaving Wildwood.

"Miss Eastman, hurry! He's going to eat them!" Amanda's cry of anguish brought Jaci out of her chair and racing around the side of the house.

She scooted to a halt by the back door of the kitchen, clapping her hands to her mouth. She didn't think Amanda would appreciate her laughter. There, sitting in Sir Lancelot's dog dish, were three tiny kittens, their eyes barely open. Their soft mews could barely be heard over the whines from the large Irish Setter, who lay close to the bowl. He didn't look the least bit ferocious, but rather intimidated by the tiny balls of fluff.

Amanda, however, hopped from foot to foot in agitation. Every time Jaci stepped sideways to see around her, she jumped right back in the way.

"Amanda, what in thunderation is the matter?" Nicholas appeared from the opposite direction and now stood beside Jaci.

"Help them, help them! Oh, Uncle Nicholas," Amanda wailed, flinging herself at Nicholas's knees, almost knocking him over. Jaci allowed a giggle to escape, for he looked almost as helpless as Sir Lancelot.

She knelt beside the dish, scooping the kittens one by one into her skirt. "I don't think Sir Lancelot intended to eat the kittens for lunch, sweetie." She smiled at the little girl who still clung to Nicholas's leg.

She thought how right Nicholas looked with Amanda, and wondered why he wasn't already married and a father. He patted her on the head, patiently listening and never raising his voice to her. Jaci, who had never considered herself maternal, ached with a feeling of closeness at the picture they made.

"Of course not." She still squatted on the ground, trying to balance squirming kittens in her lap and keep Sir Lancelot's nose away from them. He seemed to sense they talked about him, for he sidled up to her and nudged her on the arm. The movement tilted her balance just enough that she plopped onto the ground, kittens and all.

Nicholas started laughing until Jaci slanted him a glance. He quickly pinched his lips together, but humor still twinkled in his dark eyes making him look incredibly handsome.

"That's not very chivalrous of you, Mister Westbrooke." Even as she reprimanded him, she couldn't stop from laughing.

The twinkle remained as he answered. "You are right, Miss Eastman. Please, allow me to assist you." He untangled Amanda from around his knees and put out a hand. She allowed him to pull her to her feet. A tingle shot up her wrist where his hand, warm and callused, held her.

He must have felt it, too. As soon as she was safely on her feet, albeit still slightly unbalanced with the kittens collected in her skirts, he let go quite suddenly. They stared, her gaze caught in his for endless minutes.

"The kittens." Amanda jerked on her skirt, bringing her attention back to the situation at hand.

"Let's take the kittens down to the barn where they'll be safe. Then we'll place Sir Lancelot's food dish where he can eat, but the kittens can't reach. Will that do?"

At Amanda's enthusiastic nod, they turned, leaving Nicholas standing alone.

"How does she do that?" he mumbled aloud as he watched her walk away, Amanda skipping merrily at her side. She had been sprawled on the ground in a most undignified fashion, laughing too loud for a proper lady, and yet she had his insides twisted in knots. If Amanda hadn't been there, he would have kissed her; on the lips; in broad daylight; right in the middle of the yard.

Instead of thinking about settling down with Lycinda and starting his own family, his thoughts more and more often had been on Jaci Eastman. An enigma in his world, somehow not quite fitting into the scheme of things, she made him wish there was a way to help her. He had hired her to watch after Amanda, and now he spent entirely too much time watching her.

* * *

Days later, Nicholas walked by the library on his way to the stables. Hearing voices, he peeked his head into what used to be his sanctuary. More recently, Miss Eastman had taken it over during the morning hours for Amanda's lessons. He watched unobtrusively as she spoke to Molly about a point of grammar. Molly replied politely and curtseyed before turning to leave. It was then both women saw Nicholas, and the look Jaci leveled on him made him feel like a spy in his own home.

"Is there something you need, Mister Westbrooke?" She used a tone of voice that made him think of his mother every time he had done something bad.

"Why did you speak to Molly like that?"

"What do you mean? I wasn't being disrespectful. She asked a question."

"Molly is to do her job. She doesn't require your regard. She is, after all, only a servant." He raised a brow to challenge her, and as he thought, she accepted.

"She's a human being. As such, she deserves our respect for doing her job, just as you or I would." She had risen from the chair by the fireplace and advanced towards him, head held high and hands on hips. Nicholas almost ducked his head in reproof.

"I'm glad you feel that way. Here at Wildwood I won't have an employee who doesn't feel the same." She looked as though she didn't believe him. He hurried through his contrived explanation. "After all, the war has been over for almost ten years, but there are those, especially from the south, who feel things should remain as they had always been."

She now stood directly in front of him, not the least bit cowed by his height or position in the household. She squared her shoulders for a fight, her green eyes flashing with anger. Nicholas thought her beautiful.

"Are you implying that being from Texas, I might be less than fair in my dealings with your employees, even though I happen to be one?"

"Of course not, but I have spoken to some acquaintances and it seems parts of Texas are less than civilized."

"That was a hundred years ago," she replied, then bit her lip as though she had espoused a government secret. Before he had time to question her comment, she went on the offense.