Liz Ireland (8 page)

He had known mostly good luck all his life. True, the last month had been rough, and he was in a spot now, but he wasn’t one to moan and complain and pretend his problems
weren’t of his own making. Overall, he’d been dealt a fair hand. But running into Emma Colby…nothing so fortuitous had ever happened to him before. What had he done to deserve her help, and how was he ever going to repay her? At the best of times he’d been poor, and now he didn’t have two sticks to rub together.

Downstairs, another dining-room skirmish erupted. It would be a miracle if those people finished their meal in one piece, he thought wryly.

Then, slowly, as he stared at his newly tidied self in the mirror, an idea occurred to him. In the wardrobe was a suit of clothes, plus boots and a cane. A gentleman’s outfit.

Maybe there
was
a way to repay Emma’s kindness…

They should have skipped dessert. Lorna, whose appetite varied from birdlike to ravenous, was just picking at her plate. Annalise announced she didn’t like apples, even in pie, and Rose Ellen ate half of her piece, declared the crust heavy, which as Emma’s handiwork it naturally was, and pushed her plate away. Nervously Emma gulped down her piece and felt it settle in a lump in her stomach.

She was just about to suggest they give up on the meal altogether when she heard someone descending the staircase. All three women looked up; Lorna and Emma exchanged alarmed glances.

Rose Ellen shot Emma a suspicious look. “That must be Mr. Archibald. I thought you said he was an invalid.”

“He is,” Emma croaked, discovering her throat had gone bone-dry. It went even drier when Johann appeared.

At least, she
assumed
this was Johann.

The man she’d rescued had disappeared, and in his place was an even more devastatingly handsome impostor. He towered in the doorway, tall and distinguished, though he leaned slightly on his cane. The dark brown suit and snowy
white shirt, which Emma recognized immediately as her father’s, suited him to a T. His dark hair was combed back neatly, but had a rakish wave in it she suspected no barber could tame. His jaw, once host to an unruly crop of whiskers, was now clean shaven and smooth, making Emma wonder what it would feel like to touch. She could see now the straight, almost severe line of his jaw, the dimple on one side of his mouth…and the cleft in his chin.

She sucked in a breath, remembering the deep cleft chin in the Wanted posters. Strangely, though, his clean-cut look made him appear less like the wanted man than ever, though some of his features were strikingly similar. The one feature that made her absolutely certain in her heart that a terrible mistake had been made, however, was his gaze. His dark eyes were even more startlingly intense without his beard, yet they were also warm and kind…and they were boring right into her.

She blushed, and as she did, panic began to set in. What was he doing down here? To anyone who didn’t know better, he was a dead ringer for the man wanted for murder. Didn’t he realize what a risk he was taking? What if her sister had seen a poster somewhere along the road?

She glanced quickly at her sister, and saw that Rose Ellen, for all her distaste at Emma’s taking in a boarder, was viewing
this particular boarder
with intense interest. She’d shifted in her chair—turned to gape, actually—and now had a gleam in her blue eyes that Emma remembered all too well.

Emma stiffened. The meeting she’d hoped to postpone was now at hand. She looked back at Johann, swallowed with effort and forced herself to sound somewhat pleasant. “Mr. Archibald! I had no idea you were coming down to join us this evening.”

He grinned broadly—but it wasn’t the smile she knew.
This was different. A politician’s smile. “What man could resist the temptation of being entertained by four lovely ladies?”

Lorna smiled anxiously, Annalise’s frown lessened in severity and Rose Ellen practically glowed in the presence of this new male arrival. Only Emma seemed unmoved by his ingratiating remark. She knew what was coming, and made the formal introductions to her sister and her niece with little enthusiasm.

“Oh, Mr. Archibald, I’ve heard so much about you!” Rose Ellen exclaimed in a voice that was a cross between a squeal and a simper. She patted the empty seat next to her. “You must come sit by me.” Being a boarder of unknown origin, apparently, wasn’t such a terrible offense now that she had determined that he was also good-looking.

Emma stewed.

And Johann, that traitor, did as he was told, grinning from ear to ear. Emma bridled in her chair, and had a difficult time keeping herself from glowering at the man as he sat down opposite her. The hypocrite! Just hours ago he’d said that he wouldn’t be swayed by Rose Ellen’s dubious charms—and now look at him! He even scooted his chair over a few inches to get closer to her.

Oblivious, he shot Emma a sunny smile and then turned back to her sister. “What, exactly, did Emma tell you about me?”

Rose Ellen’s smile froze in place, and she shifted uncomfortably. All Emma had really told her was that Mr. Archibald was an invalid, and a boarder, both of which had made him repugnant to her before. Now that she saw that the man had Adonislike qualities to compensate, she was obviously desperate to give him the benefit of the doubt. “Oh, you know Emma…”

Johann flicked Emma an intimate grin. “Yes, I do.”

Emma blushed, and Rose Ellen glanced anxiously between the two of them. “Emma’s so tight-lipped, she never tells me anything.”

Johann’s gaze fell back on Rose Ellen. “Really? But just seconds ago you said she told you all about me.”

Emma grinned as her sister froze, obviously flustered speechless. “I think Rose Ellen was trying to be cordial, Mr. Archibald.”

Johann looked at Rose Ellen in amazement. “Really? From what I’ve heard from upstairs today, courtesy doesn’t seem to be your finest quality.”

Rose Ellen gawked at the man with such slack-jawed amazement that Emma almost felt sorry for her. Lorna ducked her head to hide a chuckle as a flush crept into Rose Ellen’s cheeks.

Before Rose Ellen could lift a protest at such ill treatment, however, Johann spoke again in a voice that was practically a purr. “Now I know why they call you Rose Ellen. Your cheeks become rosy when you’re…” He frowned and looked at her with almost scientific interest. “What would you say you’re feeling? Embarrassment? Anger?”

Rose Ellen’s blue eyes shot daggers at Johann. “It doesn’t matter! I’m called Rose Ellen because that’s my name.”

He laughed at her.
Laughed at her!
Emma felt an almost triumphant glee at her sister’s expense. “I see you’re not the intellectual type. That’s good. Smart women always have a harder time finding husbands, you know.”

Rose Ellen sent him a withering, haughty look. “Well, I don’t have to be intelligent
—I
was married almost seven years ago!”

Emma and Lorna looked at each other, hiding silent
laughter behind their napkins, which caused Rose Ellen to glance quickly around the table in confusion. “I meant…” Her voice trailed away.

“Of course,” Johann interjected smoothly, “a woman as lovely as yourself was bound to be snatched up quickly.”

This comment placated Rose Ellen somewhat, although for perhaps the first time in her life, she seemed a little more wary of speaking.

Though she reserved a little pity for her sister, Emma felt satisfaction to have her sister silenced after this long day. And by Johann—who she’d feared would fall salivating at Rose Ellen’s feet, as so many others had before him! Is that why he had come down? To give Rose Ellen her comeuppance?

She was glad he had, but still felt nervous at his taking such a risk. The fewer people who saw him, the better. Of course, Rose Ellen didn’t seem to suspect there was anything amiss with him yet, which wasn’t surprising. Cleaned up and in his new clothes, Johann seemed as respectable as a judge. Even his cane gave him a look of distinction. By his appearance, no one would ever guess that he’d distinguished himself only during a bank robbery.

She cut a wedge of pie and shoved it across the table to him. Her signature leathery crust would at least keep his mouth occupied for a while. “Have some pie, Mr. Archibald.”

He grinned at her, obviously enjoying himself way too much. “I thought we’d agreed that you’d call me Johann.”

She caught a strange stare from her sister, then nodded. “Of course.”

He bit into the pie, and after registering just the briefest moment of discomfort he let out a sound that was just between rapture and ecstasy. “Mmm-mmm!” He turned
to Rose Ellen. “Isn’t this the best pie you’ve had in your life?”

Rose Ellen of the heavy crust complaints blinked hesitantly. “It was yummy,” she agreed, teeth gritted.

“It certainly is!” Johann exclaimed. He shot Emma a look that was half open admiration and half tongue-in-cheek humor. What an actor! “You must be the best cook in the county, or perhaps the entire state. Isn’t that right, Rose Ellen?”

At first it didn’t look as if Rose Ellen would be able to manage complimenting her sister in public, but she finally produced a stiff nod.

Satisfied, Johann turned back to Emma. “Talented, bighearted, and good-looking to boot.”

Emma blushed, knowing she should have been furious at Johann for the impression he was giving Rose Ellen. Her sister was likely to think there was a romance going on between them! She didn’t mind sheltering an outlaw she suspected was innocent, but consorting with him was another matter entirely. Maybe she’d given him the wrong impression—that saving his life meant some sort of romantic interest on her part. She did find him attractive, but her interest in him remained strictly on a nurse-patient level.

The elaborate flip-flops her heart was making, however, seemed to belie that claim of platonic interest.

Displeased at having the conversation veer away from her favorite subject—herself—Rose Ellen drummed her fingers impatiently on the tablecloth. “What brings you to Midday, Mr. Archibald?”

He smiled. “I thought I might settle here a while. It’s nice country.”

“But you must have some profession…some purpose for staying.”

His dark eyes widened as he looked across the table to Emma, then back to Rose Ellen. “Didn’t your sister tell you?”

“Tell her what?” Emma couldn’t help asking.

“About our plan.”

Emma’s heart froze. The man had turned lunatic! She couldn’t tell what was going to come out of his mouth next.

“I’ve promised to help Emma turn her pasture back into farmland,” he lied, nearly causing Emma to tumble out of her chair in surprise. “We’re hoping to have it done in time to plant this spring.”

Rose Ellen gaped at Emma, stunned. “Farming? What do you know about farming?”

Johann chuckled. “That’s what
she
said. ‘What do I know about farming?’ she asked me. But I said, ‘Miss Emma, having the right soil is half the battle.’ Anyone with half an eye for farming can tell that this house is sitting on what has to be the richest planting soil in this area.”

“But this is preposterous!” Rose Ellen said. “There hasn’t been a farmer in our family since…since…”

“Grandfather.” Emma barely remembered her father’s father, but she knew the land had made him rich. Rich enough to send his son through medical college in Baltimore. “It hasn’t been so long at all.”

“Land likes to take a rest every now and then,” Johann said.

As soon as Emma was over her shock, her mind started racing. Maybe Johann was just talking off the top of his head and trying to get Rose Ellen’s goat, but his words struck a chord in her. She
was
sitting on top of some of the richest farmland in the area. And soon, especially if she was going to go ahead with her idea for a hospital, she would need the means to keep money coming in. Farming
was time-consuming, but if she could find help, and manage her money carefully…

Rose Ellen sputtered in displeasure. “B-but the idea of
Emma
…well, it’s simply absurd! She can’t handle a farm! She knows nothing about it!”

“That’s why she asked me to help her,” Johann said.

“But she’s a woman,” Rose Ellen argued. “A
lady
. Emma wasn’t raised to do that kind of work.”

Emma sat up in her chair, feeling a self-confidence fueled by enthusiasm. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t start, does it?” Her skin fairly tingled with excitement. She could do it, she knew she could—if she found the right person to help her.

Maybe Johann was that man. Though he said he was a gambler, she knew that was a lie. Could he actually be a farmer?

Rose Ellen tossed her hands in the air and expelled a sound of pure disgust. “It appears you’ve all lost your reason.”

Emma smiled. “We all have to support ourselves some way, Rose Ellen.”

Her sister crossed her arms over her chest. “But I’ve told you again and again that you should come to Galveston. You wouldn’t have to work there at all! We could be so happy, and you wouldn’t have to be lonely anymore!”

Johann gestured around the full table. “It doesn’t appear to me that Emma’s exactly lonely now.”

Rose Ellen squinted her displeasure at the man. “Perhaps not at the moment, no!”

Stretching, Johann pushed back his chair and interrupted Rose Ellen. “Well! After that fine pie I’m ready for a little stroll. It’s a lovely night. Would anyone care to join me?”

He looked at Rose Ellen, who always did like to be singled out. But before she could give her assent, Johann
blurted out, “Oh, I forgot, Rose Ellen, that you’ll want to clean up the dishes.”

Her face went slack.
“What?”

“Since Emma and Lorna did all the cooking.” He glanced around the table for affirmation. “Isn’t that the way it works?”

Lorna and Emma grinned, while Rose Ellen turned almost green with disappointment.

“Emma, how would you feel about accompanying me?”

Emma leapt out of her chair. “I’d love to!”

Never in her life had
she
been the one singled out among a group of women by a man. She felt flattered and proud, and besides that, she was eager to talk to Johann about what he’d said. Perhaps he was only talking big to anger her sister, but she had a feeling he knew at least something about the subject he’d brought up.