Tempting A Texan. Carolyn Davidson
to Carlinda Donnelly in less time than it would take to truly make her acquaintance.
And with that decision attended to, he opened his office door and settled behind his desk. “Thomas.” The single word sounded much like the roar of a mountain lion and Nicholas winced, then took a deep breath.
Women. They were at the bottom of almost all the problems he’d faced in his life, in one way or another. And the conundrum facing him today seemed only to prove that fact. It was a good thing that marriage was definitely on the back burner. He was a man who enjoyed his freedom.
She’d been given the grand tour and decreed the house lovely, and, even more important, comfortable. The housekeeper’s bright eyes were avid with curiosity and she seemed determined to make Carlinda welcome. “I’m sure Mr. Nicholas will be home for dinner,” Katie said cheerfully, her cloth moving rapidly as she dusted the bannister.
Her hair, once flame-red, if Carlinda knew anything about such things, had now settled into a hazy color of grey over auburn. As might her own one day, she thought. A wide smile on Katie’s lips sparkled with goodwill and her feet moved smartly as she made her way through the work inherent in keeping such a large home clean and polished to within an inch of its life. Carlinda hovered in her wake, feeling useless with nothing to accomplish.
It seemed a walk was in order, and she pressed a dress from her valise and one for Amanda for the occasion. “Are you certain you don’t need any help?” Carlinda asked for the second time, hesitating by the front door. Her charge tugged impatiently at her fingers, but she held back, guilt pushing her into the offer she made.
Katie only shook her head. “No, ma’am. You go on ahead and take the wee one out for a walk. She needs to get some exercise. Young’uns need fresh air and lots of it. Makes them healthy to breathe the morning air, it does.”
Reluctantly, Carlinda nodded and opened the heavy door. Leaded glass in long panes almost the length of its frame glittered in the sunlight, and she turned back to admire them as Amanda scampered across the porch.
“I’ll just leave it open,” Katie said, watching from the threshold. “You go on now and enjoy your stroll.”
Amanda was at the gate already, apparently puzzled by the latch, and Carlinda touched it, allowing the spring to stretch and the gate to open. Then she reached her hand for the child to grasp, and was given a dour look in silent reply.
“Young ladies don’t run and jump along a public thoroughfare,” she reminded Amanda. “We walk properly, without causing the dust to rise and coat our shoes.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Amanda answered dutifully, and yet it was obvious the little girl longed to run ahead and explore the limits of the small town they’d come to.
Ahead was a square in the center of town, an inviting place Carlinda had taken note of yesterday morning. On either side, east and west, the road stretched for a short distance, with stores and places of business lining its edges, sidewalks forming a neat line in front of the establishments. Women walked from one shop to another, their steps brisk as they performed what seemed a daily ritual, providing for their families. Two elderly men had staked a claim on a bench before the hardware store, exchanging greetings with the ladies who passed by.
In the midst of the square trees grew and three benches sat, empty in the morning sun. Carlinda wished that one of them was beneath the shade of a tree. She would surely freckle, she thought, if she were subjected much longer to the warmth of the spring sunlight. Sighing, she settled on a wooden seat, almost in the center of the square, and watched as Amanda approached another child at her side.
The two little girls talked for a moment, then Amanda turned, reaching for the girl’s hand to bring her along as she approached her nursemaid. “This is Sally,” Amanda said importantly. “She’s going to be my new friend. Her mama’s at the store.”
And wasn’t it easy for a child to determine the existence of a friendship so quickly, Carlinda thought wistfully. So far removed from the adult skirmishes that took place before a friendship could be formed between two women. She thought of the battle lines that had been drawn the evening before when she’d gone head to head with the man whose hospitality she’d accepted. A blush covered her cheeks as she recalled her quick animosity.
“Hello, Sally,” she said, her response to the child automatic. And then she glanced at Amanda. “Don’t go out of the square,” she said quietly. “I’ll just sit here and watch.”
The little girls skipped off, then settled under one of the trees, carefully tugging their skirts to cover short legs, Amanda looking up for Carlinda’s approval. With a smile and nod, it was bestowed, and the child turned aside. The murmur of their voices and the soft sound of laughter lulled her as Carlinda basked beneath the sun’s rays. She’d not lost herself in such a lazy morning in a very long time, and her eyes closed as she allowed herself to drift in a slumberous state.
A shadow fell over her and she blinked, looking up quickly. Nicholas stood before her, his bulk shading her from the sun and she lifted a hand to her brow as she gazed up at him. “We’re enjoying the town square,” she said, then blushed anew as he smiled.
“I’m glad to see you out and about. I hope I didn’t interrupt your daydreaming, but I wouldn’t want you to be sunburned. I see you forgot your bonnet.”
Her eyes widened as she lifted her hand higher, as if she’d only now noticed its absence. “So I did. I suppose because I didn’t plan on walking this far. Amanda and I were talking and I didn’t realize…” Her words trailed off as she took note of his amusement. “You’re laughing at me,” she said accusingly.
He shook his head. “Indeed, not,” he murmured, denying her claim. “I’m enjoying your smile and wishing I had a few hours to sit here with you and share your warmth.”
“I’m only borrowing it from the sun,” she said. “I’m sure there’s enough for both of us.” Aware suddenly of her easy acceptance of his presence, she inhaled sharply, unwilling to so quickly bow to his appeal. “On the other hand, perhaps I’d better take Amanda back to the house. It must be nearing dinnertime and Katie may need a hand.”
“She’s remarkably efficient,” he told her, sitting beside her, doffing his hat as he lifted one booted foot to rest it against his other knee. The wide-brimmed hat found a place on the park bench between them, and he looked toward the children.
“Amanda seems to have found a friend.” His tone was amused once more.
“Sally.” Carlinda spoke the name, and smiled. “She’s needed youngsters to play with. Sally’s mother is in the general store, and I’m sure the girls are hoping she’ll take her time. They seem to be kindred souls. It bodes well for her future, I think.”
“Her future?” She glanced at him as he lifted a brow and a quizzical expression touched his face. “With me?”
“Certainly. Where else would I mean? She’ll need to accustom herself to living in this town, and in your home.”
“This hasn’t been worked out to my satisfaction yet,” he told her, his eyes seeking Amanda once more. “We’ll need some time to come to an agreement, I think.”
“Time?” She refused to look at him, her heart in her throat as she spoke the word that had assumed threatening proportions. “How much time? And what sort of an agreement are you speaking of?”
He scanned her, that lazy, impudent appraisal she’d endured only yesterday. Was it only yesterday she’d met the man? And now his gaze lifted to mesh with hers. “Time? As long as it takes,” he said quietly. “The agreement we’ll discuss another time.”
And then he rose and placed his hat upon his head, nodding as he took his leave. “I’ll be home for dinner. Tell Katie to have it ready by one, please.”
Carlinda watched as he walked off. Strode was a better word, she decided, admiring his height, the gleam of dark hair touching his collar. He wore his clothing as if it had been