His Mountain Miss (Smoky Mountain Matches) (8 page)

Sarah stopped and stared. Her mouth formed a little O. “Miss Megan! Mr. Lucian!”

Megan climbed down without bothering to wait for Lucian’s assistance. “Hi, Sarah.” Bent with her hands perched on her knees, she pasted on a smile for the little girl’s benefit. The sight of the two crude grave markers beyond the barn had sucked the joy from the day. “Where’s your pa?”

“Fixin’ a fence.”

Her blue eyes were large in her thin face as she watched Lucian pat the dog’s head. Lips pursed, his sharp gaze swept their surroundings. The farm was showing signs of neglect. Weeds threatened to choke out the vegetable plants in the small patch of garden beside the cabin. Dirt streaked the window panes. Without Meredith to help him, it appeared Owen was falling steadily behind.

Megan held out her hand. “Why don’t you take us to him so we can let him know we’re here?”

Dropping the bucket, Sarah placed her tiny hand in hers. So solemn. Megan wished there was something more she could do to help the devastated family.

“Are you coming, Mr. Lucian?” Sarah held out her other hand.

A startled look, quickly masked, flashed across his face as he took her hand. The trio bypassed the barn and passed through the wide field to where Owen was struggling to do a chore better suited to two men. Shrugging quickly out of his coat and looping it over the fence, Lucian rushed to assist him, grabbing hold of the other end of the heavy post.

Surprised, Owen’s puzzled gaze shot between Lucian and Megan. The men had met at story time but hadn’t spoken at length. From his reaction, he plainly hadn’t expected the smartly dressed gentleman to willingly assist in menial labor.

“You looked as if you could use some help,” Lucian grunted by way of greeting. “Just tell me where you want this.”

Owen barked instructions. Together, they worked to repair the fence. Nonplussed, Megan stood there and watched. If one were to discount Lucian’s green paisley vest, tailored shirt and extravagantly tied cravat, which were more suited to a well-appointed drawing room than an isolated mountain farm, one would have no trouble believing he was accustomed to getting down in the dirt and working with his hands. His back and shoulder muscles rippled beneath the taut cotton; his biceps strained the material. This was no idle aristocrat.

Realizing she was gawking, Megan suggested to Sarah that they return to the cabin so she could bring the food inside out of the direct sun. The one-room dwelling wasn’t filthy, exactly, but it needed attention. And, since Lucian was occupied, Megan immediately set to work, sweeping the floors while waiting for the water to heat, which she’d use to clean the work surfaces and stack of dirty dishes in the basin. She settled Sarah at the table with a slice of buttered bread and a glass of milk. The little girl didn’t chatter like most five-year-olds. Instead, she sat silently observing Megan, her gaze occasionally lighting on the wrapped package. Megan bit back a smile, anticipating Sarah’s reaction to Lucian’s gift.

Beneath his aloof demeanor beat a compassionate heart.

By the time the men returned, the kitchen fairly sparkled and not a speck of dirt lingered on the floors. When Owen’s gaze settled on Sarah, nestled in Megan’s lap with a book, her face scrubbed clean and hair brushed and rebraided, embarrassment, guilt and gratitude marched across his rugged features. The ever-present sorrow lurked in his eyes.

“You didn’t have to do this, Megan,” he said gruffly.

“I didn’t mind.”

He worried the hat in his hands. “Appreciate it.” Nodded to Lucian, who was standing slightly behind him. “You too, Beaumont. I was about ready to give up when you arrived. Thanks.”

Lucian’s smile eased the austerity of his features. “I ought to be thanking you. You saved me from yet another tedious day of staring at the walls. I’ll be back tomorrow, if you don’t mind.”

Both men’s clothing were dirt-stained, but they’d washed up at the outside well. Their faces and hands were clean, their hair wet and slicked back from their foreheads. Lucian’s cravat was now stuffed into his pocket.

Owen’s mouth turned down. “I can’t afford to pay you.”

“I don’t want your money.” He held up a palm. “Trust me, I’d be doing it as much for myself as for you. I need the distraction.”

“I don’t know.”

Lucian appealed to Megan. “I thought you said this community helps each other out.”

“We do.” To Owen, she said gently, “You know you’d do the same if the situation were reversed. You should let him help you.”

Kneading the back of his neck, he jerked a nod. “Okay. If you change your mind...”

Lucian stuck out his hand. “I won’t.”

Shaking hands, Owen remarked lazily, “You won’t be wearing clothing like that tomorrow, will you? I’d hate to feel responsible for ruining those fancy duds.”

Lucian chuckled. “I think I can find something more appropriate to wear.”

Megan urged Sarah off her lap and stood up. “Before we go, Lucian and I have something we’d like to give Sarah.”

Looking wary, Owen slipped his hands in his pockets as she waved Lucian over to the table and gave him the package. “You give it to her.”

“Why don’t you?” he whispered, brows raised.

“Are you afraid of a five-year-old girl?” she whispered back.

“Of course not. That’s ridiculous.” Taking it, he pivoted and, walking slowly to where Sarah stood with wide-eyed anticipation, crouched to her level and held it out. “For you.”

Gingerly, her tiny fingers peeled back the paper. Her gasp of wonder made all three adults smile. “A dolly!” Carefully, she touched the blond ringlets and the silky blue dress.

“Look, Papa!” Dashing to his side, she lifted it for him to inspect.

He cleared his throat. Smiled and smoothed a tender hand along his daughter’s hair. “She’s beautiful. What will you name her?”

Sarah bit her lip, staring intently at her new gift. “Megan.”

Pushing to his feet, Lucian arched a brow at Megan. Owen looked surprised. “Well, I suppose that’s a fitting name, seeing as how she brought it to you.”

“She looks like her.”

“Oh. Yes, I suppose she does. What do you say, Sarah?”

Hugging the doll to her chest, she looked at Megan and Lucian. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“We should get going.” Lucian looked to Megan. “I have that order to pick up for Mrs. Calhoun.”

As they made to leave, Sarah rushed over to give them each a hug. Although clearly discomfited, something like affection shone in Lucian’s gaze.

Once again perched high on the wagon seat, she gazed at his profile. “That was a nice thing you did back there.”

He shrugged. “What about you? From Owen’s reaction when we walked through the door, that cabin must’ve been in dire need of a cleaning.”

“Yes, well...I know him. You, on the other hand, are a visitor. Once you leave Gatlinburg, you’ll probably never see him again.”

He gave her a sideways glance. “So that means what? I should only help people I know?”

“No, of course not.” She spread her hands wide. “I just— It was unexpected, is all.”

“I was being honest back there. I’ll go mad if I don’t find something to fill the hours.”

He could remedy that if he’d only entrust the house to her and go home. But she didn’t say that out loud. The thought of him leaving, of never seeing him again, troubled her.

“You seemed to know exactly what to do. Have you fixed a fence before?” Doubt rang in her voice.

“More times than I can count. I have the estate, remember?”

“Don’t you have hired men to do that?”

“I do. However, I like fixing things. Working with my hands. I never aspired to manage our family’s shipping empire. I wanted to be a ship captain, toiling on the open sea, not cooped up in an office all day. Physical labor gives me a sense of accomplishment that signing a contract or reviewing ship inventory lists doesn’t.”

“Why didn’t you become a ship captain?”

“Seasickness. As a teenager, I spent a lot of time down at the docks and on the ships my father owns. My father didn’t approve of my wish to captain my own ship, but I was determined. Shortly after my fourteenth birthday, I snuck aboard a ship departing for New York. One long, agonizing day and night later, I realized the futility of my dream. I couldn’t move without getting violently ill.”

Megan stared at his profile, absorbed in this glimpse into his past. She could imagine him as a young teen, determined and intense even then, coming to grips with the loss of his dreams. “Was your father angry?”

His laugh was harsh. “Angry? He thought the whole thing quite amusing. Said I got my just deserts for defying him.”

“So now you oversee things from a distance.”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you.”

He lifted a careless shoulder. “It wasn’t meant to be.”

“What about when you’re in the city? Do you fix things there, too?”

“Oh, no. My father would have a fit of apoplexy. I spend a large part of my free time at my gentleman’s club boxing. Or fencing.”

Megan could only stare. “Boxing? Isn’t that a brutal sport?” No wonder he was in top physical condition.

“It can be. Lucky for me, I’ve only ever suffered the occasional black eye and busted lip.” He ran a finger down the length of his straight nose. “No broken nose. Yet.”

His rakish grin transformed his features. Irresistible.

Forcing her gaze straight ahead, Megan retreated into silence. Attempted to make sense of these new revelations. There was certainly more to Lucian Beaumont than she’d given him credit for. And that made it even more difficult not to care for him.

Chapter Nine

S
ince Megan had insisted on taking a bundle of Owen’s and Sarah’s clothing to her aunt for mending, Lucian convinced her to let him take her there in his wagon. No point in her toting it across town. She waited patiently while he retrieved the supplies from Clawson’s and delivered them to the house. Mrs. Calhoun came outside and invited her in for a slice of pie, but as it was nearing supper time, she declined. Having encountered the sweet aroma permeating the kitchen, Lucian promised he’d eat a slice upon his return. All that hard work had stirred his appetite.

His clothes might be dirty and his body weary, but he felt terrific. The best since his arrival, actually. This was a good kind of tired. Plus, he’d come away knowing he’d helped a man in need. Recalling Sarah’s reaction to the doll, his chest squeezed. Maybe because of her resemblance to Megan or maybe because—like him—she’d recently lost her mother, the little girl had somehow wormed her way into his heart. He hoped the gift would bring her a measure of happiness.

Megan sat quietly as he guided the team along the shaded lane. It was cooler here, the profuse, overhead canopy a barrier against the sun. They’d crossed the wooden bridge spanning the Little Pigeon River a quarter of a mile back, so they’d be coming upon the turnoff to Sam and Mary O’Malley’s place shortly. He’d passed it before on his way to Megan’s. Apparently the two properties were adjoining but Sam and Mary’s cabin was situated closer to town.

“There it is.” She pointed to a break in the trees.

The first thing Lucian noticed when they emerged into the clearing was the picturesque view, quaint cabins and outbuildings nestled in a verdant valley and framed by sprawling mountains. The main cabin was a two-story structure with a porch running its length and a massive stone chimney scaling one end wall. Blue-and-white gingham curtains hung in the sparkling windows. On the opposite side of the clearing, tucked beneath the trees, sat a one-room dwelling also with a porch. A large barn dominated the space between the two structures, along with a corncrib, chicken house and smokehouse. Neat rows of vegetables comprised a good-sized garden.

“Who lives there?” He indicated the small cabin.

“Nathan. Josh built it for himself and his intended bride—Kate’s sister, Francesca. When Kate arrived in her stead, Josh moved back in with his parents so that she could have the cabin. When they got engaged, Josh decided to build a larger one. He doesn’t like to admit to being sentimental, but I think he did it to spare Kate’s feelings. He wouldn’t want to live with her in a home originally intended for himself and her sister,” she said with a knowing grin. “Their home is located behind my aunt and uncle’s house, beyond the apple orchard.”

“Wait.” He was having trouble reconciling this revelation with the obviously head-over-heels-in-love couple he met the other day. “Josh was supposed to marry Kate’s
sister?
”

Her expression took on a dreamy quality. “Yep. It’s a rather complicated story. Here’s the short version—Francesca married another man and Kate came here to deliver the news. Josh eventually came to realize that Kate had all the qualities he’d been searching for in a wife, and they fell in love.”

“Just like that, huh?”

She rolled her eyes. “I told you, it’s complicated. Theirs was not an easy road to happiness.”

“I’m sure you enjoyed observing it firsthand.”

“It wasn’t as enjoyable as you might think,” she remarked, swaying in the seat as he guided the team to a stop beside the porch. “There were times I questioned if they would end up together. It was all quite stressful, let me tell you.” Squinting, she jerked her chin. “Look, there’s Nathan.”

As usual, she didn’t wait for him to assist her down. As his boots touched the ground, he reminded himself she wasn’t the helpless type. Nor was she the type to manipulate the situation to her advantage, pretending to be helpless so that he’d be forced to help her at every turn.

The tall, dark-headed young man striding across the yard resembled Josh in height and build. Similar facial features, too. Only this man was clean-shaven, unlike Josh, who sported a mustache and goatee, and his eyes were an odd silver instead of blue. He smiled broadly at Megan, yet his eyes were assessing when his gaze met Lucian’s.

“Nathan, this is Charles’s grandson, Lucian Beaumont. Lucian, Nathan is the middle son. Don’t let his quiet nature fool you. He’s as stubborn as the rest of us.” She elbowed her cousin in the ribs.

His response was to tuck her against his side. He stuck out his free hand. “Nice to meet you.”

The two men shook. “Ma’s got supper on the table. Why don’t you join us?”

The way Nathan said it made it sound almost like a challenge.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude. Besides, I’m not exactly dressed for dinner.” He indicated his wrinkled shirt and grass-stained pants. He wasn’t even wearing a cravat, for goodness’ sake. And who knew what his hair looked like. As usual, it was hanging in his eyes.

Megan laughed. “Trust me, you’ll fit in. You don’t look any different than Nathan here. Uncle Sam, too, I’m sure.”

“She’s right,” Nathan agreed.

While Megan was looking at him expectantly, her cousin retained his watchful air. Did Nathan regard all strangers with a dose of suspicion, or was Lucian’s association with Megan the cause? She’d mentioned the O’Malley cousins had grown up together and were practically like brothers and sisters. Lucian wouldn’t blame the man for being protective.

He had two choices. Eat with the O’Malleys and spend a little more time in Megan’s presence. Or eat at the house. Alone.

“All right, then, I accept.”

Reaching in the wagon bed, he retrieved the sack of clothes and followed them inside.

The cabin was roomier than Megan’s. On their right was a wide staircase made up of smooth, white pine boards, same as the floorboards. An oversize stone fireplace dominated the living area, family portraits lining the mantel. Kate’s work, perhaps?

Tossing her bonnet on the side table, Megan motioned for him to follow her. Windows lined the dining area, providing a sweeping view of the front lawn. The succulent smells emanating from the kitchen filled his nostrils. His stomach rumbled. Lunch seemed ages ago.

Megan introduced him to Mary O’Malley, who welcomed him like a long-lost relative. The type of lady who immediately put a person at ease. Sam, Josh and Kate entered through the kitchen door just as he and Megan were handed platters to carry to the dining table. Like his wife, Sam was friendly, with a bespectacled gaze that seemed to miss nothing.

Lucian didn’t have a chance to feel self-conscious. The lively bunch swept him along to the table, seating him beside Megan and around the corner from Sam. Mary and Nathan sat opposite. Josh occupied the opposite end from his father, with Kate on Megan’s other side.

“Is Caleb joining us tonight?” Kate asked, indicating the one empty chair.

“I don’t think so,” Sam said in a subdued voice. Mary’s mouth pinched with worry.

Megan placed a hand on Lucian’s sleeve and leaned in close, her shoulder bumping his. “Caleb is the youngest brother. You’ll meet him later. I hope.”

He nodded, wondering what she meant. What Caleb’s absence meant. Family trouble?

As soon as the blessing had been said, conversation surged as platters passed around the table. Chicken and dumplings. Pickled beets. Green beans. Fried potato cakes. The food melted in his mouth. He could quickly grow accustomed to this.

He liked Megan’s family. Like Josh, Sam was well-spoken and intelligent. A solid, practical man. Humble, too. A quality Lucian didn’t encounter often in his world. Nathan didn’t offer much to the conversation, but when he did, there was quiet wisdom laced with humor. Lucian intercepted his probing gaze more than once. What did he see between himself and Megan that bothered him? Lucian had made a conscious effort not to touch her. Or lean too close. Or whisper in her ear.

When the women began to clear the table, Nathan offered to show him around. Lucian accepted. He was interested in seeing the farm. Curious, too, if the other man would confront him with whatever was bothering him. A half an hour later, he had his answer.

Lounging against a barn stall, Nathan tossed a hay sliver to the ground and turned his enigmatic silver gaze on Lucian. “There’s something you should know. Megan is family, and I make it my business to watch out for family. I’ve noticed the way she looks at you.” His gaze narrowed. “And the way you look at her. Seems to me you’re more than friends, which doesn’t make a whole lot of sense seeing as how you’re not sticking around here.”

Lucian didn’t speak for a moment. Exactly
how
did Megan look at him?
Focus, Beaumont.
“You’re right— we are friends. But that’s the extent of our relationship.” He could not allow it to develop further. “I like your cousin. I respect her. The last thing I’d want to do is cause her harm.”

Nathan pushed upright, crossed his arms. Set his jaw. “You
like
her? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I was under the impression that you suspected her of selfish motives where Charles and that house are concerned. Accused her of things she’s incapable of doing.”

“I can’t deny that I misjudged her.” He held Nathan’s gaze. “I was wrong.”

“Have you told her that?”

“No, not yet.” He sighed and lowered his gaze to his boots. She deserved an apology. “But that’s something I plan to remedy.”

Nathan considered that a long moment. Relaxing his stance, he jerked a nod. “Good. Oh, and Beaumont?”

“Yes?”

“Megan is a one-of-a-kind girl. Folks around here wouldn’t look too kindly if you were to hurt her in any way.”

“I understand.”

No use telling Nathan his warning wasn’t necessary. Any punishment the townspeople might mete out wouldn’t compare to Lucian’s own guilt and self-recrimination were he to cause her pain.

* * *

Megan was ensconced in the rocking chair, exhausted from the day’s chores and enjoying a moment’s rest when Lucian and Nathan emerged from the barn. Keeping the chair in motion with the toe of her boot, she observed the two men as they headed her direction. They weren’t speaking, and the waning light made it impossible to read their expressions. She’d noticed the looks Nathan had sent Lucian, looks that troubled her. Sometimes Nathan took his role as protector a bit too seriously.

Her gaze naturally strayed to Lucian. Slightly taller than her cousin, Lucian’s posture, the way he carried himself, commanded respect. Restrained strength combined with rakish good looks equaled devastating appeal. He was so incredibly handsome. And far, far out of her reach.

Climbing the porch steps, Nathan asked, “Where is everybody?”

Megan stood and smoothed her water-stained skirt. There was nothing she could do about the dirt clinging to her hem. “Josh and Kate went home, your ma is already mending Owen’s and Sarah’s clothing and Uncle Sam is reading his Bible.”

Lucian paused on the top step, one hand resting on the handrail. “I’ll give you a ride home, if you’d like.”

“Thanks.” She gave Nathan a hug. “Good night.”

“Take care.”

Lucian was quiet during the short ride to her place. When he halted the team, his warm fingertips grazed her knuckles. “Allow me to help you down.”

Puzzled, Megan waited as he came around to her side and lifted his hands. Setting her hands on his shoulders, he gripped her waist and swung her down. His fingers tightened when she would’ve pulled away. Pulse jumping, she searched his features, barely visible in the low light cast by the kerosene lamp.

“Lucian?”

“Please, I have something to say.” His voice was gruff, apologetic, as his hands dropped to his sides. He didn’t move to put space between them, however. His heat and closeness were reassuring. “When I first arrived in town, I accused you of a lot of things, none of them good, and now that I’ve gotten to know you...well, I realize you aren’t the type of person who would take advantage of an old man. Or anyone else, for that matter. I know what a conniving, manipulative woman is like and, frankly, you’re not it. I’m sorry, Megan. Will you forgive me for my utterly absurd error in judgment?”

Megan couldn’t think to respond. He was apologizing? Admitting he’d been wrong about her?

“Aren’t you going to say something?” he said at last.

“I, uh, wasn’t expecting this. Of course I forgive you.”

“I mean it. I shouldn’t have rushed to judgment like that.”

“I made assumptions of my own, remember? It happens. But I’m glad we’re past all that now.”

“Me, too.” He sounded as relieved as she felt. Glancing at the cabin, he said, “I should get going. It’s been a long day. I have a feeling I’m going to fall asleep the second my head hits the pillow.”

When he made to move past her, she snagged his hand. “That comment about manipulative women...what did you mean by that?”

“Only what I said. You have a good heart. Nathan was right,” he responded as he squeezed her hand. “You’re a one-of-a-kind.”

“Whoa. You and Nathan talked about me?” She wiggled her hand free. “Did he put you up to this?” If the apology wasn’t his idea, it meant nothing.

“I didn’t need Nathan or anyone else pointing out what I had already figured out myself,” he said with a hint of asperity. “Yes, your name came up in the course of conversation. He cares about you, you know.”

“I know.” Still...

“That apology was mine alone. My thoughts, my words.” His tone brooked no argument. And honestly, was he really the type of man who’d do something purely because someone else suggested it?

“All right. I believe you.”

With a speaking look, he circled around the horses and climbed up onto the seat.
“Bonne nuit, mon chou.”

“Bonne nuit.”

A tentative happiness settled in around her heart. Lucian’s trust in her was responsible for that. Only his mention of manipulative women hampered it. Why had he refused to offer an explanation? She wasn’t naive. A man like him wouldn’t lack for female attention. So who had tried to hurt him? And why did she suddenly want to strangle the unknown perpetrators?