The Nanny Solution (7 page)

Chapter Eight

V
ictoria had no time to react, only to feel her body being tossed back as the train car bumped forward. Already off balance, Mitchell splayed out his hands, his palms landing on either side of her shoulders. Since she shared a seat with Mary and John, her attention snapped to them, to ensure their safety.

And Emily! As Mitchell fell on her, Victoria leaned forward to check on her in her basket. But all she saw was Mitchell's strong chest.

She shot up her head. His face brushed hers, the start of his beard scraping her cheek until finally the train found its speed and Mitchell pulled back slightly. Still, he remained shockingly close to her. She could see deep into his dark brown eyes, the color polished and shiny, a richness one found only in fine quality furniture.

His lashes were long and curled, lush and enviable. His whole attention focused on her, making her heart race as it stole her breath for that terrible, yet exciting moment.

When his gaze dropped to her lips, she felt them part of their own accord, her bottom lip falling ever so slowly forward into a tiny pout.

Even over the din of the engine and the clacking of the train's wheels, she could hear his sharp intake of breath. What was that for? And why was she leaning closer to him, her own lids slipping shut? Did she—?

“Are you all right?” he whispered, finally easing back ever so slightly. “I didn't hurt you, did I?”

She couldn't find her voice. She could only widen her eyes and swallow hard. No man, not even Francis, had been this close to her. Her cheek still burned where his short growth of beard had brushed. Finally, Victoria managed to shake her head and speak. “No, but is Emily okay?”

He blinked at that moment, and whatever it was vanished like a soap bubble popping. Immediately, he straightened and looked down. Victoria followed his gaze. Emily, thankfully, was not touched.

Victoria turned to look at John and Mary. “Are you two all right?”

They both nodded, their attention ever watchful.

Though Mitchell had settled back into his seat, Victoria still felt his presence close to her. Her heart continued to race and her stomach flipped foolishly. “Well,” she said, straightening more and trying to make light of the incident. “I didn't think the train was going to move so soon. It's a good thing that we boarded when we did.”

“Why is your face red?” Mary asked loudly.

More blood rushed to her cheeks and Victoria stole another glance at Mitchell. He was looking away, uncomfortably, if she read his expression correctly. She cleared her throat and forced out another smile. “Well, I wasn't expecting your father to jump into my lap, that's all. For a moment, I thought he was Ralph.”

Thankfully, her attempt at humor was successful and the children laughed. Instead of seeing if Mitchell also laughed, she busied herself checking on Emily and then her dress. Both were secure and unruffled. She then touched where her cheek still burned.

“You wanted to say something to me?”

Victoria turned to Mitchell, his expression calm, his eyes hooded, unlike a few seconds ago when he was so close to her. Her silly joke had lightened her thoughts, as embarrassing as it was. Around them, the other passengers were returning to their own business, the distraction no longer of interest. The train rumbled on, and Victoria could see they'd already left the small town behind.

The mood had changed, and she had no desire to rehash his threats until there wasn't any other choice. It would be an even more difficult trip otherwise.

She shook her head. “It's nothing.” The center of a public train car was no place to tell Mitchell off. But if she didn't speak to him, would he follow through with his threat, leaving her in worse shape than when she was in Boston?

* * *

Mitch was sure whatever Victoria had wanted to say was more than just “nothing,” but he didn't pursue the matter. He knew better than to force a woman to speak when she'd changed her mind. Besides, his main concern from now on was to be careful when moving around her. The engineers must have switched off, for this one had a rough touch, unlike the one this morning who'd eased the train to a smooth stop.

He clung to the armrest, willing his heart to slow. He didn't need to be pitched into her arms again like a sack of dirty laundry.

“I'm hungry.”

At Ralph's announcement, Mitch looked down to his youngest son. This was the first time he'd been grateful for his children's unquenchable appetites. “Then we should taste what you and Miss Templeton bought for us.”

Victoria was already up, stretched on her tiptoes to access the food he'd stowed above them. Mitch jumped up to help her, steeling himself against her closeness, not to mention against her faint scent so like the roses that had sprouted at the side of his barn.

“Let me get it.”

“No. It's my job to care for the children.” Immediately, she clamped shut her mouth.

Mitch frowned. Did she regret her words? Because he'd voiced his irritation at her impromptu trade?

In that moment, he did regret his surliness, but shoved the reaction away. Whereas he could have had more tact back then, the reasons were still valid and it was better for him to keep that attitude between them. A nice emotional distance would make it less likely that she'd succeed in her part of that scheme with Smith.

He yanked down the food he'd stowed away.

“Thank you. I didn't get much because I wasn't sure if it was too expensive.” She said the words quietly, as if the children should not hear.

“It's always too expensive,” he replied. “The merchants know the travelers don't want to eat train food or those inedible messes offered at the depots. They have us over a barrel.”

She sighed with relief. “I just hope it's enough. I didn't want to waste your money.”

He stilled. These weren't the words of a scheming woman. His hand brushed hers as he retrieved the pot of preserves that had rolled to the back of the shelf. Victoria was warm, her hands soft, and he was noticing things about her that he shouldn't.

Seated again, he discovered she'd purchased well. A thick, dense bread that was sure to fill the children, along with the pot of preserves, some cheese and vegetables. She'd also chosen a tin of meat, and he pried off the key attached to the top and opened the lid with a few good twists of his wrist.

Mitchell listened as Victoria explained to the children that they should not take too much, for it was to last a while. For a woman who'd been part of Boston's elite, she was surprisingly thrifty. Although, it was a trait of Bostonians. They could stretch a penny until it broke.

Or was she purposely ingratiating herself with him? Again, doubt rushed in.

“But what if we're hungry after?” John asked with a worried frown.

“This has to do, I'm afraid. If we eat slowly, and enjoy the food, it will make us full.” Victoria sat down and took the bread.

“What if there is no food at the ranch?” John pressed.

“Then I will get you some,” she answered calmly. “I won't let you starve.” Victoria shot Mitch a fast, cautious look.

“But you have no money,” Matthew pointed out.

Mitch saw Victoria freeze. She swallowed before speaking. “What makes you say that?”

The boy shrugged. “From that day we went to your house. You said that you needed money. And when you dropped your coin purse at the train depot in Boston, I noticed that it was nearly empty.”

Mitch looked back at Victoria in time to see color rising brilliantly into her cheeks. She cleared her throat and glanced around, as if afraid that someone was listening in. “Don't you worry about that. Just eat.” She set about slicing the bread. He noticed she saved the small heel for herself, with only a sliver of cheese.

With a grimace, Mitch recalled the conversation Victoria had had with her mother the day he'd first met her, the one Matthew had so innocently and astutely mentioned. Victoria and her mother had been arguing over money. There hadn't seemed to be any and her mother had seemed deathly afraid that people would discover that fact. Lacewood had suggested that Victoria would be very interested in being hired for the trip. It had sounded odd, but Mitch now understood what was happening.

Shocked, he sat back. Victoria was penniless, and like her mother, she was appalled that someone in Proud Bend would guess as much. Surely, her relatives would know, but it was possible that they would keep it a secret.

He sagged. So that was what she thought he'd been talking about when he'd warned her that he knew what was going on. It wasn't about a plan to force him to give up his mineral rights at a fraction of their worth. He was sure of it.

It all made sense now. He'd jumped to conclusions about her. And what about his threat to tell everyone her part in Walter Smith's scheme to own his minerals rights? She must believe that he'd threatened to tell everyone about her embarrassing situation.

He should apologize immediately.

The children were greedily accepting Victoria's careful portions of food, potted meat pressed into thick hunks of bread with layers of cheese on top. They were happy and occupied.

Now was his chance. Yet, all he could do was stare at Victoria. The pink in her cheeks didn't subside. The color actually complemented her appearance. It went well with the dark gold of her hair. When a wisp fell from behind her ear to brush those warm cheeks, he reached out.

What was he doing? Mitch pulled his hand back. He had been preparing to slip the tendril back over her ear, as if she belonged to him. Was he insane?

Just as that thought hit him, Emily let out a scream.

* * *

Victoria leaned forward and scooped her up. She was getting better at supporting the baby's head and not so afraid she'd drop her. She needed this kind of confidence.

“Who would like to come with me while I change this little one?” She was expecting at least Mary to join her, but occupied by food and the fact that Matthew now pointed out some deer in the open field they passed, none of the children were interested in their sister. There was wildlife to be spotted and sandwiches to eat.

With a small smile to the young mother, who nodded and said she would be ready in a few minutes, Victoria took the things she'd need and walked toward the rear washroom. Since Emily had had a day of normal feedings in her, her disposition had greatly improved.

“May I join you? You're just changing the baby, aren't you?”

Victoria turned. The young woman who had boarded the train with Mitchell at the last stop stood behind her. “I have a small spot on my dress that needs attending to immediately,” the woman continued. “I won't take up much room.”

Indeed, she wouldn't, Victoria thought. She was as thin as a hand rail and probably only a year or two younger than she. Victoria nodded and stepped inside the washroom.

While she busied herself with the baby, the woman dabbed a spot on her skirt with her dampened handkerchief.

“I'm Clare Walsh, by the way,” she called out over her shoulder.

“Victoria Templeton. You're going to Proud Bend, also?”

“Yes. My parents moved there while I was in college.” She smiled. “I hope to get a job there.”

“Doing what?”

Clare shrugged, her expression unconcerned. “I could work at the bank, but I hear the land registry office could use another clerk.”

“How long were you at college?”

“Three years. I earned my degree.”

Victoria stared up at her as the rather proud Clare finished her small task. Briefly, she wondered if the spot had been imaginary, an excuse to strike up a conversation.

“Do you have a college degree?” the woman asked.

Blankly, Victoria shook her head.

“So you're not expecting to work. You could if you weren't too discriminating.”

“Discriminating?” she echoed.

“You could work as a barmaid.” Clare batted the air with her handkerchief. “But you are too refined for it. Which makes me wonder why you're working as a nanny. Not that I wouldn't have done the same for the chance to sit by that fine figure of a man.”

Fighting offense, Victoria could only gape. Did Clare really think that Victoria had taken the position solely because Mitchell was handsome?

Or was she offended because she didn't have the skills Clare had? But hadn't Mitchell already pointed that out? She cleared her throat. “How old are you? You seem too young to have a college degree.”

“I'm twenty. When I told my father I refused to marry, he sent me to Smith College. I think he was afraid I'd end up doing terrible things, like becoming a barmaid.”

Victoria lifted her brows. “As you suggested I become?”

The woman's hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, I can't believe I said that! I always spew out like a hot volcano! Please forgive me!”

She should, however insensitive Clare's words were. But as she stood watching this peculiar woman, she struggled to talk herself into accepting the woman's apology. At the same time, she was appalled at her own stubbornness. “So what was college like?” she asked with forced interest.

“Wonderful. My professors say that women have the right to our own opinions, and not to be pressured into things like marriage.”

Now finished her task, Victoria hastily pulled down Emily's little dress. “I don't really have an opinion on that subject. Nor am I as educated as you.” She blinked several times. “I'm going out to live with my uncle for a while.”

“How nice. It will be like a mountain holiday for you.”

Victoria looked away.

“Oh.”

She looked back, to find Clare frowning at her. “It's not going to be, is it?”

Victoria tightened her jaw, refusing to answer. After a distinct and rather long pause, Clare dug into a small pocket and produced a roll of bills. She thrust them toward Victoria. “Here.”