Tempting A Texan. Carolyn Davidson
messenger of tidings ill-received; and if the smile he wore was any indication, seeing Nicholas Garvey at a loss was well worth the time he’d spent delivering the message.
“Are you sure Henry got this right?” Nicholas asked, his mouth taut as he lifted the lined paper for the sheriff’s scrutiny. “Were you there when it came over the wire?”
“Sure was,” Cleary answered. “That’s why I offered to deliver it by hand. I figured it was important when Henry sputtered out the words and then tried to cover up his scribbles when I looked over his shoulder.” He moved to a chair in front of the wide, mahogany desk. One booted foot lifted and rested against his other knee as he removed his hat and appeared to settle in.
“Did you read the whole thing?” Nicholas asked, sinking into his own chair, a scowl creasing his forehead.
“Nope. Only got as far as the words…” He looked up at the ceiling, his thought processes obviously in good order as he spoke. “Let’s see. It said something about you being named a guardian of your sister’s child. A girl, I think.”
“There’s been a mix-up somewhere,” Nicholas growled with a ferocity that matched his dark, angry visage. “I’ve never had a sister.”
“Somebody back East doesn’t agree with you,” Cleary said mildly.
“Well, they can just look elsewhere for a dumping ground,” Nicholas said harshly. “I don’t know what this lawyer expects of me, but raising a child is not on my schedule.”
“You seem to be quite taken with your godson,” Cleary said, his index finger following the crease in his hat brim. He looked up, his initial reaction to the message apparently diluted by Nicholas’s somber behavior.
“That’s different, and you know it. I won’t be saddled with a child purported to be my niece, when I know good and well that my background doesn’t include her mother.”
Cleary stood up, a lengthy procedure, adjusting his gun belt and glancing toward the open door. “I don’t suppose…” He hesitated, frowning.
“What?” Nicholas rose from the depths of his leather chair, discarding the wrinkled message on his desktop. Hands widespread on his blotter, he leaned forward. “You know a little about the law, Cleary. Is there anything I can do to put a crimp in this?”
“Is the child on her way here?” Cleary’s innocent expression denied the knowledge he’d gained by reading the message, and Nicholas felt the urge to grind his teeth in frustration.
“You know damn well she is.” He glanced down at the scribbled note. “Accompanied by a companion, is what it says here.”
“Who sent it?” Cleary asked.
“A law firm. Under orders from the court. According to this, the child is alone in the world.”
“Well,” Cleary drawled quietly. “You oughta make a good pair, then. I’ve never heard you mention any family.”
“That’s because I don’t have one.” Frustration emphasized every word as Nicholas repeated his original statement. “Where the hell somebody got the idea of sticking me with a five-year-old is beyond me. I’ve got other fish to fry.”
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with Patience Filmore, would it?”
Nicholas looked up, suddenly feeling defensive. “I’ve spent some time with her.”
“Planning marriage?”
“Not yet. But it’s a definite possibility.” And yet, his instincts were even now pushing that reasoning to the back burner. At least until this matter was cleared up.
“You want to send back a reply?” The lawman motioned to the crumpled message, lifted an eyebrow and waited.
“And what good would that do? According to this, my visitors will arrive any day now.”
From the doorway a young man, his hair slicked back with pomade, his shirt starched to within an inch of its life, cleared his throat. “Sir. Mr. Garvey.”
“Yes.” The single syllable held the force of a bullet and the clerk winced.
“You have a visitor, sir. A young lady, accompanied by a child, sir.”
“Well…sh—” A hissing sound died upon leaving his lips as Nicholas turned again to Cleary. “I don’t believe it. How could she have gotten here so soon?” He snatched up the message, smoothing it across his wide palm. “Has the morning train arrived already?”
“Yep. Pretty near two hours ago.” Cleary turned back and settled once more in the chair he’d vacated. “Maybe I’ll stick around for a while, after all.”
Nicholas nodded wearily at the clerk. “Show her in.” And then he turned to Cleary, his eyes narrowing in an unmistakable warning. “Not a word from you.”
A look of solemn promise was obliterated by the glittering humor in the sheriff’s eyes as he watched his friend stride to the doorway. And then, as if the woman who appeared just beyond the threshold had the ability to change his demeanor, the sheriff stood as she spoke to the banker, her accent soft and genteel.
“I’m Carlinda Donnelly,” she said, extending a hand. “I’ve brought your niece to you, Mr. Garvey.”
Nicholas felt helpless anger engulf him as the russet-haired female waited for the courtesy of his palm to meet hers. At his obvious reluctance to offer her the simple gesture, her stilted smile faltered, and as he watched, her hand fell to her side. It was snatched up by a tiny female creature whose eyes widened in dismay as she gazed at him.
Eyes the exact color of blue he’d observed in his mirror every morning of his life. Her dark hair hung in curls past her shoulders, and her petite form was garbed in a dainty flowered dress that met the tops of high-buttoned shoes. The delicate rosebud mouth trembled as she spoke.
“Are you my uncle?” she asked timidly. And then she looked up at the woman beside her, her whisper loud in the silence as she confided her fear. “I don’t think he likes me,” she said, her eyes filling with tears.
Nicholas cleared his throat. “I don’t know if I’m your uncle or not,” he admitted after a moment. “If I am, it’s news to me. I’d have sworn up until ten minutes ago that I was alone in the world.” He squatted before the child, his sharp gaze taking in the long lashes, the wide brow, and finally, the small beauty mark beside her mouth. Without thinking, his hand rose to touch an identical brown speck beside his upper lip.
“It isn’t a matter of not liking you,” he said quietly, unable to be cruel to an innocent child. “It’s just that I can’t imagine who decided you were my responsibility.”
“A judge in New York City,” the woman said quietly. “Her mother and father were in an accident while traveling in Europe. A fatal accident. She became a ward of the court until your whereabouts were discovered. I’d been caring for her in their absence, and I’ve been hired now by her father’s estate to bring her to you. Another party is vying for her custody, but the judge decided in your favor.”
He needn’t have given me his blessing. Nicholas scowled at the thought.
Miss Donnelly retrieved a package from beneath her left arm and placed it on his desk. “This is the result of the court hearing, and includes a copy of the will. I’m sure you’ll find everything you need in here.”
He glanced down at the envelope, then at the child, his gaze caught by the turmoil in her face. “May I ask for an introduction?”
Carlinda Donnelly nodded quickly. “Of course. This is Amanda.”
As if hearing her name spoken aloud was a signal, the child extended her dainty fist, uncurling the fingers as she offered it to the man before her. “I’m pleased to meet you, sir,” she whispered, obviously well mannered and primed for this introduction.
Nicholas