“What kind of man am I?” David wondered aloud.
“A good man,” Ace replied.
“I got a young girl pregnant one long ago night in Denver. If distant relatives had taken her in, how do you think they reacted when they realized she had a bun in her oven? In a lot of families, that is an embarrassment not to be borne. They would have sent her back to wherever she came from to endure the shame alone. The nuns at an orphanage might not have taken her back in. Maybe she died in childbirth, maybe she didn’t, but either way I was a lowdown skunk.”
“David, don’t beat up on yourself too much until you know the whole truth.”
David knew that was sound advice, but it wasn’t easy to follow. That day down by the stream, Brianna had cried, I couldn’t let her go alone. I was the strong one. I was the responsible one! His stomach lurched. He stared hard at his boots. Had Brianna returned to Boston with her pregnant sister? If so, David hadn’t destroyed only one girl’s life; he had destroyed two.
“David?” Ace said his name softly. “Are you all right?”
David felt as if a high wind had just hit him broadside. “I don’t know, big brother. I always thought I knew myself, but now I just don’t anymore.”
“Well, that’s plumb crazy.” Ace set his son down and told him to go check on the kittens. As the boy raced off to the barn, Ace settled those dark, piercing eyes on David’s face. “David, you’re a fine man.”
“Am I?” David shot back. “Even stupid drunk, Ace? Am I a fine man then?”
Ace planted his hands on his hips. “A lot of people blame their bad behavior on drink. So far as I know, you’ve never been one of them. Before you hang yourself on a cross of your own making, you need to know the real truth, every damned bit of it, and while you’re digging, remember this. I raised you right. Whatever happened, I’ll never believe you knowingly did a young woman wrong. Maybe parts of Brianna’s story are true, but don’t leap ahead and start filling in the blanks until you have some facts to go on.”
David gazed across the field at his daughter. “I got some business to see to,” he told Ace. “Back in town. Some wires to send. I don’t want Daphne with me. Can you, Ma, and Caitlin look after her while I’m gone for a bit?”
Ace nodded. “Of course I’ll look after her. Go do what you have to do.”
David whistled for Sam. The dog whirled at the sound. Even at a distance, David saw the struggle the canine went through. His master had called, but now the silly fellow’s heart felt another tug, and the new tug won the war. Sam flapped his snubbed tail wildly at David as if to apologize, and then circled in close to Daphne, refusing to come. It was a first for Sam.
Ace chuckled. “Looks to me like that little bit of calico out there done stole your mutt.”
David agreed, a bit disgruntled, but mostly glad. Even Sam recognized that Daphne was of his blood, and the dog had automatically assumed responsibility for her, just as any loyal, protective canine should. David approved Sam’s decision. He could always get himself another dog, but he could never in a million years replace Daphne.
On the way home from the telegraph office, David stopped by Ace’s place to collect his daughter and dog. Daphne rode home in front of him on Blue, stroking the gelding’s neck as she regaled David with stories about her day with Grandma Dory, finding edible plants, and baking cookies with Aunt Caitlin, samples of which they carried with them in a bag.
David’s thoughts were a hundred miles away. Correction. His thoughts were thousands of miles away, in Boston, where he’d just hired Pinkerton agents to investigate Brianna’s background. It would take possibly weeks for him to get anything conclusive back from them, but in the end, David knew he would eventually learn a truth that Brianna had refused to share. Maybe she had been raised in a Boston orphanage, and maybe she’d had a twin sister named Moira. All David knew was that he’d impregnated either Brianna or her sister, and he held the result in the circle of his arm. As they trudged home on faithful old Blue, Sam ran circles around them.
As a lawman, David had learned to be patient as he ferreted out the facts. He’d be patient now and simply wait. Sooner or later, he would receive correspondence from the Pinkerton Agency, telling him what he needed to know. Until then, he would leave it be and move forward as planned.
Clothing flapped on the clothesline out back of the house, and as David rode closer, he saw Brianna struggling to unpin a towel, which kept snaking around her torso and catching on her auburn hair. He drew Blue to a stop to watch for a moment.
“What is it, Papa?” Daphne asked.
“I’m just thinking your mama is one of the prettiest ladies I’ve ever seen,” David said huskily.
“Yes, she is,” Daphne agreed. “Aunt Caitlin and Rachel are pretty, and so is Grandma Dory, but I think Mama is the prettiest one of all.”
David remained there another moment, watching his wife and wishing the domestic scene were as real and lasting as it appeared. Then he clicked his tongue to Blue and proceeded on to the barn. He left Rob to tend the gelding and held Daphne’s hand as they walked toward the house.
Brianna stood at the table, folding laundry, when David herded Daphne inside and closed the door behind them. “Howdy,” he said, doffing his hat and hanging it on a wall hook to his right. “Looks like you had a busy day.” He smelled beeswax and noted that all his furniture gleamed. The hearth had also been swept clean, and the delicious aroma of pot roast drifted in from the kitchen. Today Brianna wore the brown silk gown, inappropriate garb for housework, but she’d soon be a businesswoman with the tending of a ranch house far behind her. “The place looks great.”
Pleasure pinked her cheeks. “I needed to keep busy. You were gone awhile.”
David patted Daphne on the head. “I’m for some fresh coffee, pumpkin. Would you like a glass of chilled milk?”
Daphne danced ahead of him into the kitchen, then filled her own glass while David stoked up the cookstove fire and put a pot of coffee on to boil. Brianna disappeared for a bit, he presumed to put away clothes, and then came to stand behind him with her hips resting against the counter’s edge. She belonged here, David thought, but he had no idea how to convince her of that. Brianna wasn’t a woman to be wooed with deep kisses and fancy words.
“So what did Clarissa Denny have to say?” she asked.
David turned to see Daphne digging her hand into the bag of cookies. “Don’t ruin your appetite for supper. It smells like your mama has a delicious pot roast on.”
“I only have two.”
Daphne took her milk and treats to the dining room. David was glad for the privacy. “Clarissa’s daughter-in-law in California is having a rough confinement, and she’d like to be there well before the baby comes. There are three other youngsters, all little whippersnappers, and her son works long hours at his shop. Right now he’s hiring a woman to come in, but he can’t afford it.”
“So she’s willing to sell?”
David searched Brianna’s lovely green eyes. “If Clarissa had her way, she would have been on a train for California yesterday. She’s so eager to leave, she’d damned near give the place away.” David crossed his ankles, resting more of his weight against the counter. Then he locked gazes with Brianna again. “I won’t take advantage of that, but if I make her a fair offer, I’m sure she’ll accept. Just say the word, Shamrock. If owning a dress shop and sharing a home in town is what you really want, it can be a done deal in the morning.”
“What other recourse is there?” she asked, her voice slightly tremulous.
David glanced toward the dining room. “You could stay here,” he said softly. “We could work toward making this a real marriage and have a real family.”
Her eyes went bright, like emeralds polished to a high shine. “Without love, David?” She shook her head. “You deserve more than that.”
David uncrossed his feet and then crossed them again. After folding his arms, he said, “What if I were to tell you that I’m developing feelin
gs for you?”
“This is only the sixth day of our acquaintance,” she reminded him.
“It was a long trip, Shamrock. Six days isn’t much in most situations, but in our case, we’ve had plenty of time to take each other’s measure. I admire you. I feel affection for you. It’s my hope that you feel the same about me. We can build on that.”
“Affection.” She rolled the word slowly over her tongue as if to test its taste. “That isn’t love, David. We need a stronger foundation on which to build a marriage. Besides, there are still things you don’t know, things that may change your mind. It’s only prudent to move ahead as we planned, leaving ourselves free to file for an annulment.”
David had allowed a judge to railroad her into this marriage. He wouldn’t force her to remain in it. If the time came when she wanted an annulment, he’d give her one, and then they’d have to figure out how both of them could be parents to Daphne. “All right, the dress shop it will be, I guess.”
She nodded and even smiled, but her expression told David she wasn’t really happy. He wished—oh, hell, he didn’t know what he wished. That he could understand her better, he guessed, and that she’d trust him enough to tell him everything. If she was only Daphne’s aunt, did she honestly think he would use it as leverage against her in court to take the child away from her?
“Just for the record, no matter how this shakes out, I’ll never deny you the right to be with our child,” he told her. “I know how dear she is to you. I’d never take her away from you.”
She tipped her head to regard Daphne at the table. “In some ways, David, you’re already doing that,” she whispered.
“Doing what?”
“Taking her away.” Her eyes glistened with tears when she met his gaze again. “She already loves you so, and your family is so wonderful. Ever since her birth, it’s been only she and I. I was always the center of her world. Now . . .” She smiled tremulously and shrugged. “Now I feel like someone standing backstage.”
David’s heart caught. “That isn’t so. She loves me, yes, and she’s coming to love my family as well, but that takes nothing away from her love for you.”
“Perhaps not, but it does drastically alter her relationship with me. Don’t think I resent it, David, because I don’t. I’ve always wished that Daphne could have a family. I couldn’t give her one. You have. I’m not so selfish as to not be happy for her.”
David’s throat went tight. “I’m sorry you didn’t have that as a kid.”
“Ah, well, I did all right. I had many mothers to love me, and each of them, in her way, loved me very well.”
The nuns again, he thought. Before, her references to the orphanage had infuriated him, but now he was no longer quite so sure that part of her story was a lie. “You have my family now. If we make this marriage work, you’ll never be without family again.”
She studied him for a long while, until the silence became taut and uncomfortable. Finally she said, “As tempting as your offer may be, I am not so selfish as to do that to you. You’ve dealt honestly and fairly with me, David. You nearly died to protect me and my child. How can I do anything less than deal honestly and fairly with you?”
After a wonderful supper, David cleaned the kitchen while Brianna got Daphne ready for bed. When the child was tucked in, David dried his hands and went to sit on the edge of her mattress to tell her a story and kiss her good night. Having learned his lesson about the uncomfortable mix of spooky tales and six-year-old girls, David conjured up a memory from his childhood when Eden had taken a walk in the woods near their house and gone missing. Daphne clung to his every word.
“And so you found her, safe and sound?” she asked.
“We did. Your grandma Dory spent hours with brush and comb to get all the sticks and tangles out of her curly red hair, but she was safe, and after that, she never took off into the woods without one of us boys.”
“When you describe Aunt Eden, she sounds like Aunt Caitlin. Do they look alike?”
David drew the covers up to Daphne’s chin. “They look amazingly alike, and well they should because they’re half sisters.”
Daphne frowned. “Then you’re related to Caitlin?”
David realized he had waded into water too deep for a child. “Nope. Caitlin is related to Eden, but not to the rest of us.” At Daphne’s frown, he laughed and forestalled any more questions by saying, “When you’re older, I’ll tell you that story, but it isn’t one you’ll hear tonight.”
“How old will I have to be?”
With a smile, David said, “Oh, I don’t know. A lot older than you are right now. How’s that?”
He found Brianna waiting for him in the dining room when he reached the end of the hall. She sat with her arms folded primly atop the table, her slender hands tucked against her forearms. How often had he seen the nuns in San Francisco hold their hands just that way, hidden under the winglike sleeves of their habits?
He took a chair across from her. He had deliberately postponed giving her any more details about purchasing the dress shop, hoping—foolishly, he guessed—that spending the evening together as a family might change her mind. He sensed that she yearned to stay there, but for reasons beyond him, she refused to do it.
David had things he needed to talk with Brianna about, most important the story he and Ace had cooked up to explain David’s coming home with a wife and six-year-old child, but he decided that could simmer until they actually moved into town. Instead he broached the subject he knew was of more interest to Brianna right then. “I reckon you’re anxious to hear more about the shop?”
Behind her, the fire snapped and crackled in the hearth, forming a halo of flickering amber around her dark hair. “I am, yes.”
David shifted to get more comfortable. “The long and short of it is, you can probably take over day after tomorrow. Clarissa wants to sell everything—the stock and equipment, the upstairs furniture, even the dishes and bed linens. She wants to walk out with only her personal things, clothing, toiletries, and family mementos. Her price is reasonable, and I have plenty in the bank to cash her out. She’ll sign over the deed to everything in front of a notary public, and then it’ll be yours. You can move in with your personal things and be ready for business the next morning.”
Brianna shook her head. “I’d like a separate contract to be drawn up, David. I can’t accept the shop as a gift from you. I’ll want to make monthly payments to you, with the going rate of interest included, so the shop will one day be rightfully mine.”
David hadn’t seen that coming, but when he considered how prideful Brianna was, he could only wonder why he hadn’t. “All right. I’d prefer it to be a personal contract, drawn up privately between us and signed and countersigned behind closed doors. In the eyes of the townsfolk, we’re married. It’ll raise eyebrows if it’s public knowledge that you’re buying the shop from me.”
She considered that idea for a second, and then nodded. “I trust you. A private contract will suffice.” She drew in a shaky breath and slowly released it. “This is a longtime dream of mine, you know. I’ve always wanted to have my own dress shop.”
The tension eased from David’s shoulders at the reminder. Until now, he’d been thinking of the dress shop as a final blow to any possibility of a real marriage between them, but since it had always been her dream, he could never deny her the experience, marriage or no. Eden was as fast and accurate with a gun as David was, and though he and his brothers had always sought to shelter and protect her, they’d also realized long ago that she was a filly who would always fight against too much coddling and control. David had nothing against strong-willed, self-sufficient women. He’d be proud to have a wife who was a successful businesswoman.
“Are you excited about it?” he asked.
Brianna’s eyes took on a sparkle as she considered the question. “Excited, yes, and nervous as well. I want to design, David. I want wealthy women as customers who will demand gowns that are high quality, diff
erent, and on the cutting edge of fashion.”
David knew there weren’t enough wealthy women in No Name to support such an aspiration, but there were plenty in Denver. “Are you that good?”
She met his gaze. “I believe I am.”
“Well, then, we’ll need to advertise your talent in Denver. Thanks to Ace, the railroad spur from there to here offers plush passenger travel. If we court the right ladies, they can travel here in style for fittings and be home that same night.”
“We?”
David chuckled and held up his hands. “Don’t worry. I won’t interfere in the designing and sewing. But I do have a good head for business, and as your pretend husband, I don’t mind offering my expertise. You’ll need to branch out to a richer customer base. From what you say, I gather you’d like to be famous someday.”
Her eyes went dreamy. “Famous, yes. Brianna Paxton originals will be coveted, and women will pay high prices for them.”
“Well, honey, I think you’re on your way. Tomorrow the shop will be yours. The rest will be up to you.”
Chapter Eighteen
B
rianna loved the dress shop. It was on the same side of the street and only three doors down from the marshal’s office. Right next door was a milliner’s shop, the proprietress an aging lady named Beatrice Masterson who wasn’t quite ready to retire but might be soon. That would give Brianna a chance to buy her shop, knock out the adjoining wall, and have a truly spectacular business space.
Ah, but for now, she was so excited with the present shop that she would have spun in circles if not for the presence of David and Clarissa Denny, who was walking her through the downstairs area. Clarissa was a slender lady, around sixty, with graying brown hair and gentle blue eyes.
“As you can see, I’ve invested in the newest and latest that Singer has to offer, including a ruffle attachment on this machine.” She ran her fingertips lovingly over the hand-carved case as she lifted the lid to display the equipment. “The one upstairs is the same model, but I haven’t yet invested in a ruffle attachment for it.” She turned from the work cubicle to show Brianna the display rods, the glass cases, and the dressing rooms, which sported three-way mirrors so customers could admire their new gowns from all angles. “Over there,” Clarissa said, pointing to two cushioned armchairs, “is where husbands sit to view the finished products, or to simply be a part of it all when we’re selecting colors, styles, and types of cloth.”