The Convict and the Cattleman (21 page)

Jonah nodded. “Go ahead. I’ll be out before Coalface runs.”

“Alright. I’ve got Dagmar and Martin posted, making sure Niles doesn’t come back.” He winked. “Take care of him, Bridgit.”

The cloth hit the table with a wet thump. Jonah stood and paced the length of the kitchen. One hand ruffled his hair. Bridgit bit her lip, watching him stride back and forth. For the second time, the kitchen door burst open and the looming figure of George Taggart filled the doorway.

“What the hell is going on here, Andrus?”

Bridgit cringed at the powerful voice echoing through the house.

Charity peered over her father’s shoulder, face pale and eyes wide. “Father,” she protested, tugging at his sleeve.

Taggart’s face contorted with anger. “I thought you were an upright man. I’ve heard nothing but good about you. Then a young woman comes out screaming, accusing you of taking advantage. I demand an explanation. This minute.” He pounded one finger against his upturned palm.

“It’s a misunderstanding, sir. Jonah never laid a finger on Millicent,” Bridgit insisted. “He’d never take advantage of her or your daughter or anyone.”

“Bridgit–” Jonah protested.

She interrupted him. “I believe she assumed Jonah meant to take Mrs. Burbank as his wife. Millicent lied in order to ruin those plans.”

Taggart eyed her. “It was quite convincing. How do you know all of this, young lady?”

“She told me on one occasion she planned to marry Jonah. Yesterday she admitted she listened to Mr. Server tell Jonah that you and your daughter were attending the races. She informed me that Mr. Server thought it would be a good match. I gave my bed to Mrs. Burbank last night. I know for certain he didn’t do more than bid her good night.”

“These are very suspicious circumstances, young lady. As I understand it, his sister has an illegitimate baby, he’s sleeping with his help, and now he wants my daughter, a woman with a sterling reputation, to watch after this bastard child. With no acting chaperone.”

“Taggart, that’s enough,” Jonah snapped.

Bridgit slashed her hand through the air, interrupting him again. “Sir, Olivia’s parentage isn’t her fault. No one should blame her for that. Jonah only wants the best for her as any caring guardian would. Mr. Server’s judgment is valuable. When he suggested Mrs. Burbank take this job, no one could guess Millicent would act with such repulsive behavior.”

Taggart’s eyes roamed over Bridgit, Jonah and his daughter. “You’re positive this is a misunderstanding?”

“On my honor.” It wouldn’t count for much if he asked about her background, but he didn’t.

“I’m capable of making my own decisions, Father,” Charity murmured, hands tucked behind her back and eyes on the floor. “It doesn’t matter. Jonah’s letting Bridgit stay on.”

Taggart didn’t seem surprised. “Hmph. Well, it’s clear why. She loves him, Charity. Couldn’t be plainer if it was written on her face. No better person to raise his niece than the woman who loves him. It’s not the kind of triangle you want to interfere with.”

Heat surged throughout her body. She felt Jonah’s eyes on her, but couldn’t meet them. Why would Taggart say such a thing? Surely it wasn’t so obvious that they were intimate.

“We’ll stay for the races, but we’re leaving immediately after,” Taggart announced. “Come, Charity. We’ll miss the first round of ponies.”

She gave them an apologetic smile and followed her father out the door.

Jonah dropped into the chair he’d vacated earlier. He rested his forehead against his palm.

“Please don’t listen to him, Jonah. I haven’t a clue what he’s talking about. Of course I don’t...I don’t love you. You’re my friend. Well, perhaps more than that, but I certainly don’t have any designs on you,” Bridgit blurted.

For a long moment he was silent. Dark eyes met hers. “Marry me, Bridgit.”

18

One hand covered her mouth and the bright color flooding her face ebbed away.

Agog with ideas, Jonah rose and stood before her. After last night, the idea had more appeal. “It makes perfect sense for a number of reasons. Stop looking at me as though you think Niles jarred my brain.”

“I did no such thing,” she denied. “I’m not convinced, however, that you’re thinking clearly.”

“Not thinking–of course I’m bloody thinking clearly. It makes sense,” he insisted. Raising his hand, he counted off the reasons on his fingers. “First, if we announce I’m marrying you, it explains Millicent’s outburst. Second, we
do
care for one another. Third, I trust your judgment. You’re capable of managing the household. We’ll need a cook and a housekeeper now. Most importantly, Olivia’s well-being is at stake. You’re staying anyway and it’s very convenient.”

Her face fell at his words. “Convenient?”

He didn’t see how such a simple statement upset her. “Aye. What’s the matter?”

“You said you care for me and if it’s true, I should like to be treated as though you care. Not told it’s lucky I’m young and attractive after all the fuss you made about it at the Factory.”

Why shouldn’t he be surprised she was angry over a spontaneous proposal? Nothing else had gone his way today. “I didn’t say–”

She folded her arms across her chest and tipped her chin up. “I’m very aware of what you didn’t say.”

Thoroughly annoyed, he leaned closer. “Perhaps you should tell me word for word what would put me in your good graces and make you agreeable to this marriage.”

The smooth flesh at her neck jumped when she swallowed and he realized not only was she upset because she believed his words were crass, but she was frightened as well. Three weeks was not a sufficient amount of time to know and propose to a woman. Yet, he’d watched her with his niece and knew without doubt she loved Olivia as much as she’d love her own children. From the first moment she’d looked at him with hope in her eyes, he hadn’t been able to turn her away and with each passing day it seemed less likely. He cared too much.

Jonah put his hands on her shoulders. “Bridgit, I want you to be more than a servant here. More than my bedmate. I’m asking if you would become my wife, Olivia’s foster mother and the mistress of Laurie Lark.”

The rigidity left her posture and she curled against him. The front of his shirt dampened as her shoulders shook. What had he done? Perhaps he was doomed to offend the entire female population at the station.

“I’ll marry you,” she muttered against his chest.

He’d not courted her, nor given her undying vows of love. A roof, a job, and kept her belly full. Marriages were often based on less. Did it upset her?

She dried her face with the back of her hand. “We have a big job ahead if we’re going to get by without Martha tonight. Bess and Farjana should start preparing dinner, but I’ll be out to watch Coalface if I can find time.”

There was the woman he’d come to trust. “You have a dress for dinner, don’t you? We’ll make the announcement before we eat.”

A crease appeared between her eyes. “I hadn’t planned to attend dinner with Martha gone. We’ll be short-handed.”

He hated the crease and stroked her cheek, willing it away. “You have to. It’s important for everyone to hear our plans. Surely there’s something upstairs you can wear.”

“I’ll try.” She shook her head, as though gowns were the least of her worries. She moved away and plucked an apron from the peg on the wall. “I’ll manage. Please let Bess and Farjana know I need them. It’s going to be a fine dinner.”

Capable, dependable Bridgit. “I know.”

Her smile was worth the words, worth the morning’s trouble. He’d made the right decision. Now to convince everyone else.

* * * *

Bridgit knew nothing of horses, only that by looking at the four standing in an uneven row by a post designating the starting line, they were handsome animals. If anyone asked her opinion, she’d say Coalface was the finest of the lot, but he was the only horse with Jonah astride him. The only one carrying her fiance. Her heart raced as she recalled their conversation.

The horses sidestepped and pranced, antsy as the spectators. Jonah looked her way and smiled. The secret they shared hung in the air like a rainbow, not yet solid, but a symbol of hope. Her dreams weren’t dead after all.

“Do you think he’ll win, Bess?” she asked over the din of voices.

“Bother and damn, there’s Davy. Right in the middle of those horses and with them so nervous. I’ll fetch him back,” Bess said, leaving to push through the crowd.

Brigit chewed at her lower lip. She hoped her friend would reach him before the race started. Without warning, a shot rang out. The horses lunged forward, hooves churning up the red soil. The noise from the crowd nearly deafened her.

The big bay called Ranger surged to the front. The horse Phil insisted would best Coalface. Beneath her feet, the ground rumbled with the thunder of hooves. Human voices crackled in the air. Men waved their hats and women clapped. The horses rounded the first turn and Bridgit stood on her tiptoes, peering over other spectators.

A hand grabbed her elbow. She tried to pull free, sure someone had mistakenly caught her arm. The tugging was persistent. She turned away from the track and her gaze fell on Rob Langnecker, looking scruffier than before.

“Come with me,” he demanded.

With all the guests it would have been easy for Langnecker to slip into the yard. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Now.” He pulled the edge of his jacket back, revealing the handle of a wicked hunting knife.

Her eyes widened and she leaned away from him, but his grip wouldn’t break. No one noticed her distress. The noise from the track hadn’t abated. Langnecker jerked her behind him, forged a path through the guests and around the tent village. He didn’t stop until they were at the edge of the yard where some tall bushes grew.

Sweat cut trails down his dirty face and his eyes, once friendly, were hard as stone. “Bloody lot of fuss over a handful of horses.”

“What do you want?” she demanded, squaring her shoulders.

“Where’s Charlotte?” His eyes softened at her name. By the look of him, it had been some time since he’d bathed or barbered. His hair was over-long and a rough beard covered his jaw.

“She isn’t here. Nor has she been for...for several weeks.” She glanced toward the house where Olivia was with Farjana, safe and sound.

The softness vanished, replaced by stone. “Where the hell is she? I’m tired of the runaround.”

From the direction they’d come, excited cheers reached her ears. The race was over. Langnecker held her wrist, tight enough it hurt. Tighter than manacles.

Panic choked her. “Please, you’re hurting me.”

Sadness and confusion darkened his eyes. “All I want is to know where she’s gone. No one will tell me a damned thing. Jonah thinks he’s as good as royalty, but Charlotte never acted uppish. She–” He broke off when his voice cracked.

Though it felt like he was crushing her bones, she couldn’t help feeling sorry for him.

“Gone. She’s gone to England. Where her mum was from,” Bridgit lied. “To live like a lady should.”

Langnecker growled. “It wasn’t her idea. He sent her there, I know it. She’d never leave on her own. Not after she promised to wait for me.” He dropped her hand like it scalded his.

She cradled her wrist, unsettled by his temper. “If Jonah finds you here, he’ll–”

“What? Kill me?”

The knife appeared in his hand before she could draw a breath.

“Please, Mr. Langnecker. I should get back before anyone notices I’m gone.”

The razor edge of the knife reflected the sunlight. “Tell me the name of the ship and the port.”

“I–I don’t know,” she began. The knife would fly far faster than she could run.

“You must know. She left after you got here, didn’t she?”

He thought she knew Charlotte. In order to maintain her loyalty to Jonah, she had to continue the lies. Bridgit struggled to remember any ships she’d seen at Port Jackson when she disembarked. She pictured them, but the names wouldn’t come. Cold sweat trickled down her back. “I’m frightened, I can’t think with your knife pointed at me.”

“You’d best overcome that fear, love,” he urged, twisting the knife. Its blade caught the sun again.