Chasing the Sun (15 page)

Had he ever looked at her with such joy and wonder and yearning?

Ignoring Kate’s squirms and giggles, she hurriedly dressed her in fresh pantalettes. “I can’t stay, Jack.” Not with a man who didn’t love her, who didn’t even remember her, who only wanted her here now because of her daughter.

“Why not?”

He walked toward her, his limp less noticeable than the day before. But even with that small imperfection, he moved with all the strength and grace she remembered. Seeing him without his shirt, she realized he was more muscular now and leaner. But she would have known those wide sloping shoulders, the long curve of that back, those strong hands even in her sleep. Especially in her sleep.

Hunkering down beside her, he reached out to twine his finger in one of Kate’s curls.

Grinning, Kate tipped her head back to watch his hand.

“Stay. Just for a while.” Turning his head, he looked directly into Daisy’s eyes and smiled. “Please.”

That was one of his greatest allures. When Jack looked at a woman, his attention was total, as if she were the only person in the room, the only person of importance. It was flattering and intimate and addictive. Even knowing it was the way he treated every woman, it sent a thrill through her. And that smile ...

Daisy forced her attention back to dressing Kate.

“You can’t take her from me, Daisy. Not yet.”

It’s not you he wants
, she reminded herself.
Once he wins over Kate’s wary heart, he’ll probably walk away from her too.

A feeling of desperation seized Daisy. She wanted to run. She wanted to stay. She wanted him to move back and give her space to breathe.

“I have to go,” she said.

“Give me a little more time. That’s all.”

“I have plans, Jack.” When he didn’t respond, she looked up to see his expression wasn’t so kindly now. And she knew that within the last few seconds something valuable had been lost.

“I’ll pay you. I know you need money. How much will it take to keep you here for a month?”

“Jack—”

“How much? I’ll pay whatever you ask.”

Kate, sensing the rising tension, began to fuss again, her smoky blue eyes darting from her mother to her father. Daisy tried to reassure her with a smile, even though she felt like crying herself.

“Just a few weeks,” he argued. “That’s all.”

“Yes. All right. Two weeks.” At that moment she would have agreed to anything to put some space between them. “Then I have to go.”

With a curt nod, he rose and left the room.

As the door closed behind him, she took in a shaky breath, telling herself she had done the right thing. She had over six weeks before the opera company left for Rome. Surely she could allow Kate a little of that time with her father.

And maybe by then she could finally put the man out of her life.

After she got herself and Kate washed and dressed, they headed downstairs. It was slow going because Kate insisted on walking without help, inching toward the edge of each tread before hopping down to the next.

Daisy didn’t mind. She dreaded the day to come—the curious stares, the probing questions, the speculative glances. She was happy to put it off as long as possible.

The main room was empty, the house quiet except for the low murmur of voices coming through an open arched doorway on the far side of the dining area. Daisy assumed it led into the kitchen. After Molly had tended her bruises last night, she hadn’t gone back downstairs for supper, but had taken her meal in her room. Mentally preparing herself, she took Kate’s hand and walked through the archway.

It was the grandest kitchen Daisy had ever seen, big enough to handle a dozen workers and equipped lavishly with a huge cookstove, two sinks, and enough cabinets to store the belongings of three families. In the center of the room stood a well-used dining table, and seated at the far end were Jessica and Molly, speaking quietly over a plate of muffins and two steaming teacups.

Daisy had no doubt they were discussing her and Kate. Pasting on a smile, she said, “Good morning.”

Their heads came up. But instead of guilty looks, they gave Daisy welcoming smiles. At least Jessica did. Molly was more reserved, not from a lack of friendliness, Daisy suspected, but more as part of her nature. Less a talker than an observer, Molly had eyes that missed nothing, much like those of her husband, the towering and intense second brother, Hank. Even though Daisy hadn’t spent much time with that couple the previous day, she sensed they were both highly intelligent. Molly certainly seemed more logical in her thinking than Jessica, who appeared a bit high-strung and emotional in comparison.

Daisy liked them. With the exception of Brady, the overly protective, rather intimidating oldest brother, she liked all of the family she had met. Her unannounced arrival with Kate had been a shock, but they had handled it surprisingly well, and she was grateful.

“How did you sleep?” Jessica rose to add another plate and mug to the table. “We sent the children out to the barn to see the new foals so they wouldn’t wake you. They can create quite a stir running through the house.”

“Children?” Daisy glanced inquiringly from one woman to the other. She vaguely remembered Jessica answering the door with two babies on her hips, but didn’t remember if Molly had any.

“Four.” Jessica sent a quick look at Molly, who was staring fixedly at Kate. “A son, a daughter, and twin boys. Four years, two, and one. In that order.”

“How wonderful.” Smiling, Daisy waited for Molly to respond.

Molly’s return smile seemed a bit forced. “Only my niece and nephew. So far.”

Sensing she’d blundered onto a sore subject, Daisy busied herself pulling out a chair. After settling Kate on her lap, she said, “I want to thank you again, Jessica, for the lovely dresses.” She beamed proudly at her daughter. “Kate has never looked so pretty.”

“Oh, I think that child would look beautiful no matter what she wore.” Bustling about, Jessica soon had a chair with an elevated seat for Kate and the ever-present kitty, a wide bib tied around Kate’s neck, and a bowl of oatmeal set before her. “Now what would you like, Daisy? Coffee or tea?”

She took coffee and a muffin. While Kate gobbled her breakfast, Daisy answered Jessica’s and Molly’s questions as best she could, or at least the ones she felt comfortable answering.

She was hesitant to reveal her opportunity to train with Madame Scarlatti. Part of it was pride—she didn’t feel she had to justify her reasons for needing help from her child’s father. Jack had a responsibility to Kate too.

But she also didn’t want to open herself to ridicule. Few people understood her passion for music. Most viewed her singing abilities as a nice entertaining talent but hardly the kind of thing one should devote one’s life to. Other than her mother and Mr. Markham, no one had ever taken her music that seriously. Not even her father. Jack knew her only as a saloon singer. He might not be willing to give her money if he knew it was to be used to hire a nursemaid for his daughter while her mother traveled through Europe performing on stage. She couldn’t risk it.

And she certainly couldn’t tell them that she was fleeing San Francisco because she’d killed a man.

So she evaded any pointed questions about why she needed the money by explaining she had lost her position and her place of residence and needed funds to hold her and Kate over until she reestablished herself. Mostly that was true. And mostly Jessica accepted it. Daisy wasn’t so sure about Molly.

As they were cleaning up the dishes, an accented voice said, “
Buenas días, niñita
.”

Daisy turned from the sink to see a woman she hadn’t met standing beside Kate’s chair. She was dressed as a nun and was one of the most beautiful women Daisy had ever seen. Her presence immediately changed the atmosphere in the room. Jessica seemed flustered, Molly even more reserved.

Daisy noted the newcomer seemed less interested in the ladies than in Kate, her face reflecting an odd expression of wistfulness as she studied the child drawing circles in the last of the oatmeal in her bowl.

“Good morning.” Jessica sounded almost too jovial. “Morning prayers are over?”

“
Sí.
” Despite the smile, the dark, almond-shaped eyes glittered as if she were fighting tears. “So this is little Kate,” she said, her gaze still pinned to the child. “She is very beautiful.” She glanced at Daisy. “You are a lucky woman.”

“Yes, I am.” Daisy felt a shiver of unease. The woman seemed kindly enough, although there was something ...

“She is much like her father.” The nun brushed a fingertip over Kate’s blond curls. “And more than just the eyes, I think.”

And suddenly Daisy knew. In an instant, doubt became certainty, hitting her so hard it almost drove the air from her lungs.

It was her. The woman Jack loved.

Oh, God.

The ground seemed to shift beneath Daisy’s feet. Pressing a palm against the countertop for balance, she struggled to quiet the terrible thundering in her chest.

A nun. He’s in love with a nun.

It was unbelievable. Ridiculous. So ironic she would have laughed out loud if she hadn’t been so close to tears.

Perhaps sensing Daisy’s turmoil, Jessica stepped forward to hurriedly usher the nun around to an empty chair. “Would you like some tea? A muffin?”

Daisy could see the woman was crippled, but took no comfort in that. None of this wretched situation was the nun’s fault. Daisy had orchestrated her own humiliation by becoming involved with Jack in the first place, then by showing up here uninvited, expecting ... what?

“Elena is an old friend of the family,” Jessica explained. “She—”

“I know who Elena is,” Daisy cut in. “I just didn’t know she was a nun.”

“A novitiate.” The nun settled awkwardly into a chair. “I take final vows next month.”

“So you might still change your mind?” No wonder Jack was here. What had she stumbled into? A family reunion? A last attempt to win her over?

It was sick. The whole thing made Daisy’s stomach turn.

“No.” Elena’s gaze bored into Daisy. “I will not change my mind. I have neither the desire, nor the reason, to do so.”

“I see.” Not that it mattered. None of it mattered. The man she loved had given his heart to a nun—that most perfect, pure, unattainable woman of all. How could Daisy compete with that?

Compete?

At that moment a terrible realization burst into her mind, one that had been in her heart all along even though she had refused to acknowledge it. She hadn’t come here just because of the money, or Kate, or because of the dream.

She had also come because of Jack.

You stupid, stupid fool.

Elena’s brow creased in a frown. “He spoke of me?”

Fury burned in Daisy’s throat, arousing something cruel and dark within her. She tried to quell it with a smile, but the way the other women stared at her, she wondered if instead of forming into a pleasant expression, the muscles beneath her skin had contorted into a hideous grimace. Then before she could stop them, words poured out. “Once. He said your name only once. I believe he was on top of me at the time. Perhaps at the exact moment this beautiful child was conceived.” She tried to laugh, but it came out garbled and ugly and bitter as bile. “I’m not sure which of us should be more insulted.”

As Daisy’s rage had built, it seemed Sister Elena’s sadness had increased until her beautiful eyes clouded with tears. She held out a trembling hand. “I have upset you. Forgive me. Let me explain why I have come.”

“No need.” Realizing her nails were digging into the wood of the counter, Daisy loosened her grip. Rather than touch the woman’s proffered hand, she picked up a towel and walked to where Kate sat staring at her with round, troubled eyes. Fighting to calm the chaos in her mind, she attended the simple task of cleaning up her daughter while reminding herself over and over that this gentle woman was not her enemy.

“I know why you’re here, Sister.” She was grateful her voice didn’t wobble and her hands no longer shook. Hurt and anger had hardened into unshakable resolve, burying whatever foolish expectations she might have harbored. It was almost a relief.

“God sent you here as surely as He sent me,” she went on, carefully wiping oatmeal from Kate’s tiny hands. “To free me. To rid me of the curse that is Jack Wilkins. And I am grateful for it.” Tossing the towel aside, she lifted Kate from her chair and set her on her hip. Looking from one woman to the other, she gave a strained smile. “Now if you will excuse us, Kate and I have a kitty to pet.”

As soon as Daisy and Kate left, Jessica sank into a chair at the table. “Lord, what a ghastly tangle.”

Elena dabbed at her eyes. “I should not have come. But I thought—”

“No.” Reaching across the table, Jessica laid her hand over Elena’s. “This is not your fault. It’s Jack’s. He’s an even bigger dolt than Brady, I fear.”

“I have caused her pain.”

“Jack caused her pain. Not you.”

But Elena seemed unconvinced, no matter what Jessica and Molly said.

“I do not know what to do,” she said, pushing herself up from her chair. “But I will pray on it and ask for guidance. Perhaps God will show me a way to mend this wrong I have done.”

JACK SPENT MOST OF THE MORNING HOLED UP WITH HIS brothers in Hank’s office, going over the mail and discussing ranch business. It amazed him how quickly he slipped back under the yoke of the endless chores, worries, hopes, and strategies that kept RosaRoja plodding along. In many ways it was stifling. In others, it reawakened a long-dormant sense of connection to his brothers and the land that had been the driving concern of the Wilkins family for almost twenty-five years.

Apparently he had returned at the beginning of a downward spiral. Ranching had always been a risky business with more lean years than good. But with the discovery of silver four years ago, things had been really good. In addition to building this monster house, his brothers had also started crossbreeding range cattle with imported Herefordshire and Angus, as well as developing a fine herd of mustang-Thoroughbred horses. Both results were impressive. Already Wilkins beef was in high demand and took top dollar every fall when they invariably won the Army bid for beef distribution to the Indian reservations. And although Brady wouldn’t sell off any of his horses yet, they were generating a lot of interest as well. The first batch of colts would be ready for market after spring roundup, and he expected double that number to be ready next year. So far the epizootic hadn’t impacted the ranch, and with no more cases of equine flu reported since the one in Prescott almost three weeks ago, it seemed RosaRoja might have weathered the crisis untouched, although Brady intended to retain the quarantine for another week, just to be sure.