Claire, Angela - Heart of Stone (Siren Publishing Classic) (3 page)

“Melinda, I don’t know how to put this delicately, and I’ve been out of society so long I’m not sure I even want to try, but let me just say that, if you come out to my ranch to watch my Ginny, it won’t be too long before…” He hesitated. He was going to say it won’t be too long before they’d have another babe on their hands, but hell, for all he knew, she might not even know how babies were made. They kept women so abominably ignorant out east.

He tried again. “There’s no one at the ranch but me. My hands don’t bunk with us. They just come from neighboring parts. So at night, it’d just be you and me.”

“And Ginny.”

“Right.” She didn’t seem to be getting this, looking up at him so trustingly. He finally settled on saying, “It’s not proper.”

She laughed, and damned if it didn’t tighten his groin just to hear it. “Oh, I don’t care about that, Mr. Stone. It’s not as if I have any marital prospects.”

Then the men out east were even dumber than he’d thought they were.

“Really, I don’t care about things like that, and after all, your aunt, who’s just about the sweetest woman in the world, thought it was fine, so I’m not one to be too finicky.”

She wasn’t making this easy.

“Look, I’ve got neighbors, friends, whose opinions I value. I can’t be living all alone with a girl like, well, a girl like you.”

“Oh, but I’m sure they understand the need for your daughter to be cared for. It’s just natural you’d hire a woman to do it. I’m really just a servant, more or less.”

Right. If any of the folks out by his ranch thought he was using this pretty little thing as just a nursemaid or housekeeper, he’d be mighty surprised. Even more surprised if he managed to keep his hands off her and let her just
be
a nursemaid and housekeeper. She was just too tempting. He wasn’t even going to risk it. He’d have to find another way.

Just then he saw Jeb Wilson’s wagon thundering into town, a cloud of dust trailing in its wake. He looked up in annoyance to see that hotheaded oldest son, Frank, at the reins, and as the wagon stopped just short of him, he saw with even more annoyance that Ginny was bundled in Frank’s little sister’s arms in the back of the wagon.

“Hell, Frank,” Jake stalked over. “Don’t you dare ever drive like that with my baby on board.”

Frank, a wiry, carrot-headed seventeen-year-old who did everything at three times the normal speed, hopped down from the front seat as Jake held out a hand to take the baby from the little girl.

“I’m sorry, Jake. But Pa said to get Ginny here to you real fast like, get the medicine, and then get on home.”

Jake looked in alarm at his baby daughter, but she seemed to be sleeping peacefully. “Medicine? What medicine? Is Ginny sick?”

“Not Ginny. Baby Scott. He’s a coughing up something horrible. Ma’s right torn up about it. She’s worried sick about him. But she says you got to take Ginny away from it. Ma, she says the little ones always get it the worst, and she don’t want Ginny sick too.”

The little
Wilson
girl—Jake could never keep the younger ones straight—clambered out from the wagon and tugged on her big brother’s hand. “Come on, we got to go to the doc’s. Right now and get back before nightfall.”

“Right. So I’m glad yer aunt’s here, Jake.”

Melinda moved forward to peer over at the baby and put a hand along her forehead. Frank, in the myopia of male adolescence, noticed her for the first time and, from that moment, couldn’t seem to see anything but her. His mouth fell open and lust wiped his features clean. “Is this yer aunt?” he asked stupidly.

“No, of course not.”

Melinda took the baby gently from Jake’s arms, and God knows why, but he let her. Maybe because he needed his arms to ram Frank’s teeth down his throat for the lustful way he stared at Melinda.

“This is Miss O’Chauncey. My aunt was too…ah…ill to journey, and she hired Miss O’Chauncey to come instead to help me out.”

“Whew. Lucky you.”

“Frank, shut your yap.”

“Sorry, Jake.” Frank tore his gaze away from Melinda, who was rocking the baby, and turned to his little sister. “Alright, Felicity, alright.” With a hasty goodbye, the two headed down the dusty street towards Doc Holsting’s place.

Jake shook his head. Great, just great. Now he didn’t even have the
Wilsons
as a backup plan. He heard a coo. Melinda was smiling down at Ginny, who was now wide awake and gurgling up at the girl. It looked like his daughter was making her vote known.

Damn…he was a fool.

Chapter Two

Melinda put the baby down in the cradle. Ginny was sleeping now from the long tiresome ride back to the ranch. She was a darling. Her father, though, was another matter. He’d stomped into the charming little ranch house, just remembering to hold the front door open for her at the last minute, and grunted in the general direction of this lovely room he had apparently prepared for his aunt. Then he disappeared somewhere out into that vast expanse beyond the window. She looked around at the homey touches of her new abode—a blue and green patchwork quilt on the homemade bed, a plaster vase of some wild purple flowers on the dresser, and even a round mirror over the stand with a basin of water for washing waiting for her. Well, not for her precisely, for his aunt of course. But it was thoughtful nonetheless. It was hard to reconcile those little touches with the brooding giant who hadn’t spared a smile this whole long trip back to the house for either her or his own baby.

Stubbornly, at the thought, she resolved to stick it out for the sake of this lovely, little black-haired angel who snuggled so contentedly in her cradle. Poor motherless thing probably hadn’t been shown an ounce of affection from that hard man out there. Well, she was here now. After all, if there was one thing she’d learned from the orphanage, it was that children, no matter how little or big they were, needed lots of love and security. She’d give that to little Ginny, as long as her brute of a papa would let her.

* * * *

Jake had grabbed one of the horses from the barn and ridden out into, well, not into anywhere really. He just had to get away and think this new development out. No use just wishing his aunt wasn’t such a diabolical meddler or that the girl was a touch plainer or really plain at all. Wishing wouldn’t make it so. He had his baby girl to think of, and he had to think like a father, not a sex-starved cowboy. Besides which, he wasn’t even sex starved. He’d been to Sally’s while he was in town, the night before as a matter of fact, and had been ably tended to by a pert little redhead. She was nothing compared to the blond beauty waiting for him in his own house, of course, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that Miss Whatever-her-last-name-was, Melinda, that is, could probably be a right fine nurse for his baby girl. He’d be one selfish ass if he couldn’t try to overlook her lovely shape and sweet face and just let her care for his daughter.

Hell, that’d be revenge enough on Aunt Lil if he just treated Melinda no different than he would Annie Wilson or any other respectable lady he couldn’t even think about touching. If he could do that, he might just survive the next year or two. Once he was out of the danger zone, he could ship Miss Melinda back to
Boston
or marry her off to one of the countless heartsick cowboy admirers she’d no doubt garner in her time here. A lot of them were still stupid enough to believe in love and marriage and all that. The thought made him remember how much he’d longed to make love to his virgin bride on their wedding night, how sweet he’d thought it would be, and how he’d even somehow convinced himself that it would be forever. And it was sweet, that first time and the months thereafter.
Victoria
had been shy and fragile, and he’d just about been afraid to touch her at first, but she’d warmed up and even welcomed him after a while. She was happy just as long as he paid for all the dressmaker bills and took her on a big, fancy European honeymoon and bought her anything she set her heart on. And her heart was pretty fickle. It set on one thing after another. As soon as he gave something to her, she moved on to something else she wanted. It wasn’t that he couldn’t afford it. If there was one thing his long dead parents had done for him, other than naming Lil as his guardian that is, it was leave him with piles of money. It was more than enough so he couldn’t spend it in two lifetimes, not that
Victoria
hadn’t given it a try.

But he hadn’t begrudged her. He hadn’t. It was just he was right surprised when she didn’t reciprocate the favor. He still remembered the look of horror on her features, how she had blanched even paler than usual, when he told her about his plan for moving to a ranch in
Colorado
. He might as well have said
Timbuktu
. She didn’t even know where
Colorado
was on a map, and after a few knockdown screaming fights, it became clear she didn’t want to know. Even when they got here, it didn’t get any better, as he’d thought it would.
Victoria
’s delicate constitution, just as Aunt Lil had warned him, made just about every day she spent here a misery for her until she died. Even on the happiest day of his life, when Doc Holsting had handed him that bawling black-haired baby and told him he had a daughter, all
Victoria
had said was, “Take her and get out.” As if Ginny weren’t a part of her too.

Jake sighed and patted his horse munching contentedly in this field a few miles from home. No, no more marriage for him. His daughter was enough. She could marry a fine boy someday and have a passel of kids, and he would leave the ranch in their capable, Western-bred hands. But in the meantime, fact was he had to raise her. For now, that meant he needed some help.

He glanced up at the molten red sun, acknowledging that he should get on home now. He would make this work. He would. Leaving Melinda to face the first night home alone, however, wasn’t the way to start. He mounted his horse and turned back to the ranch.

By the time he made it back, cooled the horse off, and put him down in the barn, it was pitch-black out. Night fell like that here. Just that fast. When he entered the house, the smell of fresh baked bread and stew filled his nostrils. Melinda stood at the stove.
Victoria
’s red checkered apron, practically like new since his wife had never done much cooking or cleaning, was wrapped around her little waist. He felt a twinge of resistance again to this new arrangement, imagining how easy it’d be to wrap his own hands around that waist… but then he heard a gurgle. Ginny was a few feet away, toddling around on the rug-covered hardwood floor. She gave her toothless, or rather two- or three-toothed, smile up at him, and he reached down to pick her up.

“Hello, gorgeous. How’s my baby girl?”

Ginny cooed a baby hello, flopping her head down on his shoulder as he gripped her tightly. Lord, the connection he felt to this little part of him was a powerful thing.

Melinda turned from the stove, smiling hesitantly. “I hope you don’t mind, Mr. Stone. I made myself at home here.”

“You cook, too?”

“Nothing fancy. I just scrounged up what was around and put it together. I thought you might be hungry.”

“I am. Thanks. It smells wonderful.”

Jake put Ginny down on the special baby seat he had constructed, and Melinda dished the stew and bread out onto two plates. For Ginny, she gave her a wooden spoon to play with.

“I fed the baby earlier.”

Jake dug in. It was good. He smiled at her, but she just looked thoughtfully back. He guessed a little apologizing was in order. “I’m sorry for getting all riled up when you first got here. I was just a little surprised is all. I’ve thought it over, and I realize we should just make the best of this arrangement.”

“I really can take care of the baby and the house just fine, Mr. Stone.”

The “Mr. Stone” rankled him. “How old are you anyways?”

She hesitated, like it might be some kind of a trap. “Nineteen, but…”

“Well, I’m twenty-eight. Not exactly ancient. So no more Mr. Stone please. It’s Jake.”

“Jake. I really will do a fine job here. I promise. Your aunt knew what she was doing.”