The Nanny Solution. Barbara Phinney

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СКАЧАТЬ filled her cheeks and she looked everywhere but at Mitchell. She was headed west to live as a poor relative, someone the family was hoping would marry one of her uncle’s cronies and be gone from their house. “I may as well earn a small wage for traveling there.”

      “Your income will be very small, you know that. I’m deducting the cost of the fare from it.”

      Victoria swung her attention back to him. “I know. But I don’t need much.” She had absolutely no idea what she would need, but surely it couldn’t be too much.

      Well, she was going to have to say it out loud sooner or later. Victoria lifted her chin. “I plan to find some employment there.”

      * * *

      Mitch raised his brows as he carefully shifted Emily. He was drawing the stares of nearly everyone on the train car with his behavior, but frankly, until Miss Templeton—Victoria—learned this simple task, he needed to burp the baby. The nurse at the hospital had shown him everything he needed to know about feeding Emily, but the rest, such as this burping, he’d done before with his other children.

      He finally gave Victoria his full attention. “What kind of work are you seeking?” She didn’t look the employable type.

      “Well.” She cleared her throat. “I have some secretarial skills. I can read, write and have a decent grasp of mathematics.”

      “So you haven’t actually searched yet? Or sent any letters? Proud Bend is a rather small place.”

      She blinked without answering.

      Victoria was indeed an oddity. Like him, considering he was caring for a baby while the woman beside him watched like a studious pupil. Mitch knew little of her save the fact that Lacewood could vouch for her character...and that there had been a death in her family, but he knew that only from the black wreath on her front door. There seemed to be a problem with money, judging by the need for train fare.

      Why? Her brownstone was worth at least three of his ranches. Yet she was heading west to meet a man who had been willing to send her money for a first-class train ticket.

      Was he her beau? Mitch frowned. She certainly didn’t act as though she was going to meet the love of her life. Or was Victoria a mail-order bride who’d naively decided she’d rather work as a spinster instead of marrying? He’d already gathered that her family’s situation had turned dire. What had precipitated her new decision?

      No. He would not pry, not even about her vague plans for employment. He didn’t want Victoria, or anybody in Proud Bend, to know his business, so he ought to stay out of other people’s. Ranching was lonely work, something best left to bachelors who weren’t encumbered by fickle women who acted too much on emotion, needy things that they were. And he wasn’t seeing anything in Victoria that changed his mind. She was most likely a socialite in financial disgrace, forced to Colorado to marry a man who wanted something cultured on his arm. Mitch would leave her to her naivety as soon as they stepped off the train at Proud Bend. That would be best for everyone. No point in the children expecting she’d be a fixture in their already battered lives.

      Proud Bend was a small town southwest of Denver, but it was up-and-coming with its own church, bank and three stores, not to mention the blacksmith and the school and a few establishments Mitch chose not to frequent. The train depot had taken on the post office’s duties, something that seemed odd at the time, but the townsfolk preferred it that way. Beside the smithy sat the sheriff’s office and behind it, a small jail. The boom of the gold rush and the offer a few years back of cheap land for ranching along with Colorado joining the union had all worked in Proud Bend’s favor. The town was thriving and healthy.

      A few years ago, when he’d first arrived, he’d been so impressed that he’d named his ranch Proud Ranch, after the town. He’d spent that first winter carving the sign above the entrance to his land. He had been building a home for the family he’d left out east.

      Then the honeymoon ended. That spring someone in town commented that they were surprised Mitch could even write. Mitch had held his tongue. Two things he’d learned from being the son of a retired schoolmarm. Know your letters and keep your mouth shut.

      Thinking of letters, he still had an unread one from Lacewood in his breast pocket. The man had written a long explanation when Mitch had told him that he couldn’t keep his last appointment due to this train trip. If there were still questions, Mitch could write him. First, though, he needed to read the letter while there was still daylight.

      He handed a calmer Emily back to Victoria.

      “Her milk doesn’t seem to sit well with her,” she commented.

      “She’ll have to get used to it. There is no substitute.”

      Lips pursed, Victoria began a slight rocking, something that accentuated the insistent clacking of the wheels on the rails. Before long, the baby was asleep. Mitch glanced at his children. As expected, they took the rear-facing seats, but Ralph and Mary weren’t impressed with the arrangement, craning their necks to peer out the window at what was coming.

      His gaze wandered. Some other passengers still looked his way with open curiosity, except the new mother across the aisle. She was taking an extraordinary interest in Victoria.

      And why not? Victoria’s outfit was stunning, especially compared to the basic accommodations second class offered. The color of a forest at twilight with equally dark lace and plenty of pulled up layers tucked in spots to make the whole skirt look like a series of green waves, her outfit was sober but tasteful. It could almost count for a mourning suit. In fact, it seemed to respect both necessities—that is, mourning and traveling. She’d also abandoned her hat, he noticed, though he couldn’t say when. She must have set it up in the compartment above them beside his Stetson. Did she know that whole compartment would become a berth in a few hours?

      “Can we play a game?” Mary asked.

      Mitch nodded. “Why don’t you play I spy?”

      Thankfully, Matthew started them off. Mitch’s heart lurched. They’d lost their mother and yet they seemed to be handling it better than he was. It was a fact that Ralph had acted up yesterday, and Mary cried herself to sleep most nights, but overall they were adjusting. Mitch was grateful that a simple game could keep them occupied.

      He’d been out West for so long, they hardly knew him. Matthew and John remembered him, and Ralph took his cues from his brothers and had warmed to him, but Mary had treated him with distrust. For the briefest instant, Mitch regretted his decision to ranch, but he stalled that thought. It put food on the table. He’d made the best decision he could for his family.

      And Emily? His attention dropped to her as Victoria laid her gently in the wicker basket on the floor between their feet. Along with some sheets that the porter had tucked away, he’d had that basket delivered directly to the train.

      The baby squirmed and Victoria placed a quietening hand on her. Mitch felt his jaw tighten. He had been gone so long that Agnes had turned to another man. Emily would never know either of her parents.

      No. She would have him.

      As Victoria straightened from her soothing pats, their gazes locked again. She had the most perfect features. Regal, yet not overly aristocratic. Despite being genteel, she was broke, he assumed, and therefore she would have had few decent marriage prospects in Boston. If she wasn’t too fussy, her chances might be better out West.

      Mitch СКАЧАТЬ