From Boss to Bridegroom (21 page)

His fingers traced lazy circles on the skin above the gauze. “You were worried about me, Duchess?”

“Yes.”

“I was worried about you, too.” His expression darkened. “I don't like that you hurt yourself on account of me.”

Her gaze freely roamed his face, his dear and familiar countenance, and she wondered how on earth she was going to function without encountering it on a daily basis. Those eyes full of life and humor, the languid, too-confident smile that did crazy things to her equilibrium.

I can't love him, can I? I don't even know what that feels like.

“My reaction would've been the same no matter who was trapped in the store.”

That's not entirely true, though, is it?

His fingers stopped their motion. He folded his hands atop the blanket, and she hid hers behind her back, missing the reassurance of his touch.

“Speaking of the store—” she pushed herself up, relieved when her legs held her weight “—I'm so sorry.”

His temporary home, along with his business, had been utterly destroyed.

“I can rebuild. Restock the supplies. What matters is that no one was killed.”

“I know you're right. Still...” His dream was in ruins. Her heart ached for his loss. “Tell me something. Have you ever regretted embarking on this crazy adventure of yours?”

“Not once.”

She gaped at him. “Not even when we were locked in the springhouse?”

“I don't deny there have been obstacles along the way. This is the biggest one of all. But I'm confident this is where God wants me.”

Was she confident Knoxville was where God wanted her? Had she even prayed for His direction?

I can't alter my plans now. What reason could I possibly have for giving up my dream?

“I'll miss you, Quinn Darling,” she blurted.

He blinked, dark brows lifting.

Something sorrowful flitted across his face. Surely she'd imagined it.

“Would you like for me to come and visit you? Knoxville isn't that far away, after all.”

Quinn visit her? “You would visit an ex-employee?”

“No. But I would visit a friend.”

“I would like that very much.”

Had he noticed the hitch in her voice? She hoped not. Averting her face, she attempted to gain control of her unruly emotions.

He hadn't said he'd miss her.

He hadn't asked her to stay.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Q
uinn felt numb inside.

Her admission had rocked him. He'd had to bite his tongue to keep from begging her to stay.

He sternly reminded himself not to be selfish. If his family had tried to talk him out of leaving Boston, he would've been torn, confused and, more likely than not, resentful. He would've left home with mixed feelings and regrets. Thankfully, they hadn't burdened him with that. While they'd expressed their sadness at his leaving, they'd ultimately freed him to pursue his dream.

Asking Nicole to give up her dream wouldn't be fair. And what, exactly, would he be asking? Not only had she made her views on marriage plain, he didn't know how deep her feelings for him went.

She deserved his support and encouragement, and he would give them no matter how much it cost him.

Settling into the pillows, he soaked in her bedraggled appearance, his gaze lingering on her wrapped hands. She must've been terribly upset, and he hated that he'd inadvertently caused her distress. Remaining in this bed while Doc had dug bits of wood out of her tender skin had gone against every instinct. He'd wanted to hold her, comfort her, absorb her pain.

Watching her now, his heart twisted with acute regret. It wasn't difficult to imagine spending the remainder of his days with her, loving her and any children God blessed them with. He disagreed with her summation of her maternal instincts. All a person had to do was watch her interact with her cousins' children to know that she'd be a kind and nurturing mother.

You are not a part of her plan, Darling. And neither is a future in Gatlinburg.

Funny, he'd initially deemed her unsuitable for the role of his wife. He'd had this preconceived notion of a sweet, biddable woman. Someone like his mother, who catered to his father's wishes. Only now did he understand how skewed his thinking had been. He wasn't his father. He wouldn't be content with a relationship like theirs.

Nicole kept him on his toes. He certainly couldn't fathom ever being bored with her. She brought sunlight and joy to his days. Her reaction to his teasing charmed him, and he found himself searching for new and innovative ways to do it. From the beginning, her work ethic had impressed him, and the depth of her generosity was something he hadn't encountered before.

All solid reasons for wanting to marry her, but not the chief one. Plain and simple, he yearned to be the man who poured love into her life, who made her feel special and wanted and needed.

It was a new and unexpected dream, one he hadn't anticipated, one destined to go unfulfilled. Something told him the loss of it would stick with him the rest of his life.

She stopped in her pacing. “I think I should postpone my trip to Knoxville.”

“What? Why?”

“You're going to need help rebuilding.” At the sight of his expression, she said, “I don't mind waiting a little longer.”

Although he hadn't thought it possible, his love for her grew in that moment, making it difficult to speak. “You are not postponing your move. I refuse to be the cause of another delay. It's time you thought about yourself for a change.”

* * *

The look in Quinn's eyes nearly caused her heart to stop.

No one had ever looked at her with that degree of earnestness before. Having warmth and approval directed her way was a heady thing. Disconcerting, too. Because, as the knowledge of what might've befallen him hit home, she'd accepted how precious he'd become. The idea of him hurting hurt her.

It was a novel experience. For years she'd lived a selfish existence. Afraid of rejection, of not measuring up, she'd closed everyone out and focused on her own wants and desires. For whatever reason, Patrick and Lillian had breached that self-absorbed bubble, and she'd let herself care without reservation. But that was a friendship type of love. Things were different with Quinn.

He'd waltzed into her life, breezing past her barriers and thawing her heart with barely any effort. He'd teased her, pushed her to try new things, comforted her. For the first time ever, she desired someone else's good above her own. She would sacrifice everything if it meant he'd be safe and happy.

Why was she surprised he wouldn't let her?

Quinn Darling was an honorable man. Noble and good.

“That's the thing. I've spent most of my life thinking about myself. It feels good putting others' needs first.” She shook her head. “I'm not sure I can leave with your store in ruins.”

“Pray tell me, how could you possibly assist me?” He gestured to her injuries. “I appreciate the sentiment, but there's nothing you can do.”

He hadn't said it with the intent to wound her. She knew that. “I understand.” Sliding errant curls behind her ears, she edged to the door. “I'll let you get some rest.”

He lifted a hand. “Nicole, wait—”

“No. I'm hungry and dirty and too tired to think straight. We'll talk later.”

Hurrying outside, she took the long way home, skirting Main Street and the lingering crowds. She shouldn't have worried about Quinn. A determined man, he wouldn't let this setback derail his goals. He would rebuild, and the mercantile would be better than before.

He'd be fine.

He didn't need her anymore.

* * *

The following evening, bathed and clad in borrowed clothes, Quinn paid Nicole a visit. After her hasty departure, he'd remained in that bed at Doc's, too drained to deal with either well-meaning townspeople or the damages wrought by the storm. He'd half expected her to come back this morning. She hadn't. And when he'd gone to the site, he'd been disappointed over her absence and oddly disgruntled at having been forced to examine his store's demise alone when he'd have given his right arm to have her beside him. What would she say if he admitted that he'd come to value her practical outlook, her unwavering confidence in his abilities?

Rebuilding would take some doing—many hours of hard labor clearing the rubble, assessing what to scrap and what to keep, not to mention compiling inventory and reordering supplies. He thanked God he had the means available to start over. Not every man in his situation would be so fortunate.

He'd been stunned by the outpouring of concern and support from the townspeople. Claude had organized a cleanup crew, and Quinn had arrived to find men of all ages—including some who'd opposed his barring of Kenneth and his friends—clearing logs and sweeping up the debris. Shane had ordered him off the site the instant he spotted him, insistent he rest his shoulder, at which point Lucian had stepped forward and invited him to stay at his and Megan's house. With his quarters buried and his personal items beyond reach, Quinn had gratefully accepted.

He'd spent much of the day assuring Patrick and Lillian that Nicole was fine. Thinking it best they not witness the mercantile's destruction, Megan had assured the siblings they'd be able to visit her the following day after she'd had a chance to rest.

Strolling along the path to her cabin, he'd passed the vegetable garden when he noticed the barn doors standing open and soft light spilling into the night. He paused to peer inside. His mouth dried at the inviting picture she made. Her hair gleamed, skimming the elegant sweep of her neck. She was dressed more simply than he'd ever seen her in a serviceable black skirt and loose-fitting white blouse. In her arms, she cuddled an adorable rabbit.

Seated on a hay square, she looked up at the sound of his approach, raven brows sweeping upward.

“Quinn. What are you doing here?”

He gestured to the spot beside her. “May I?”

Scooting over to give him room, she eyed the proper sling Doc had bullied him into wearing. “Is your shoulder paining you?”

Constantly, as did the stitched laceration at the back of his head. Aloud, he said, “It's not too troublesome. The sling is Doc's way of insuring I don't use my arm during cleanup.” Reaching out, he petted the trembling creature in her arms. “Who's this?”

Head bent, her fingers—the tips that weren't swallowed up in gauze—followed the path his took. “Puffy. Isn't he sweet?”

He chuckled. “What kind of name is that?”

“Considering he's a puffball, an appropriate one.” She lifted her head and smiled. The lavender rings around violet irises were more pronounced tonight, her inky lashes thick and lush.

“I wouldn't have guessed you were an animal person when I first met you.”

Kicking up a shoulder, she looked at the horses in their stalls. “Animals don't judge as harshly as people do.”

Quinn was silent, continuing to pet Puffy as he pondered her telling words. He hated that she'd felt isolated and unwanted growing up and worried she'd experience the same in a new city. Since his arrival, he'd seen Nicole blossom and flourish, growing closer to her family. A small part of him had hoped the new development would change her outlook on Gatlinburg and that she would reassess her reasons for leaving. A foolish hope, it turned out.

He rested his hand on his thigh. “Are you taking him with you?”

“I'll probably be staying in a boardinghouse for a while. He wouldn't be allowed. Besides, he'll be happier here. The twins will take good care of him.”

Standing to her feet, she replaced the bunny in his hutch and faced him. “What I said earlier about staying...I—I don't think it's necessary. You're right. There's nothing I can do at this point to help you.” Hands linked behind her back, she rubbed the toe of her boot across the straw-strewn floor. “And since you don't need me anymore, I'm leaving the day after tomorrow for my scouting trip.”

He desperately wanted to tell her she was wrong, that he did need her. Instead, he stood and nodded in agreement. “You will come and say goodbye first, right?”

“Yes. Of course.”

Moving to where she stood, he cupped her cheek, thumb caressing the satiny skin. Her breath caught. Her eyes were wide and luminous, beckoning him closer, tempting him to pour out all his wishes and regrets.

This would have to be their one and only private goodbye. While she'd planned to return for the bulk of her things and to attend a going-away party, he wasn't sure he'd be able to trust himself to keep his true feelings hidden once he'd experienced her absence. He'd have to keep his distance, no matter that it'd kill him to do so.

“It has been a pleasure knowing you, Duchess.”

She blinked, and he thought he glimpsed a tear clinging to her lashes.

His throat grew muddy. “I wish you all the best.”

Bending his head, he placed a kiss on her cheek. It wasn't the ending he'd envisioned for them. Dissatisfied, what-ifs pounding at his temples, he let her go.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“I
know this is going to sound selfish, but I wish you weren't moving.” Lillian removed another blouse from the wardrobe, a wistful air shimmering about her. “Couldn't you open a shop here?”

Nicole clumsily placed the folded skirt in the trunk at her feet. Her hands were sore, and the gauze made it difficult to control her movements.

“I don't think Gatlinburg is large enough to support something like that.” She reached for another skirt.

“It's just that you are my first real friend.”

Nicole stopped midmotion. “Truly?”

Lillian held the blouse against her chest. “Our closest neighbors were three miles away. We were rather secluded. Patrick and I were all each other had besides Ma.”

Forgetting the packing, Nicole settled a hand on her shoulder. “You are my first real friend, too.”

Lillian enveloped her in a hug. “I'm going to miss you so much!”

“I'd take you with me if I could,” she said truthfully. Pulling back, she inspected the guileless face. “Are you happy at my sister's? You can be honest with me.”

Her expression brightened. “Oh, yes! They've made us feel very welcome. I have free run of the place, even Lucian's study. Not that there's anything of interest in there. I spend the majority of my time in the library.”

“And Patrick?”

“He's content. I can tell he really likes and respects Lucian. And Lucian treats him like an adult, which Patrick needs right now. He's felt helpless for so long.”

As it often had in the past twenty-four hours, emotion welled up and threatened to spill over in an ugly outburst. “I promise to come and visit you as often as I can. And we'll write letters. Lots and lots of them. You'll be sick of seeing my return address.”

“I'll hold you to that.”

Lillian's smile was tempered with sadness, eyes bright with unshed tears.

Nicole sniffled. “Back to packing.” Waving a hand about the room, she said, “I've lots to do between now and tomorrow morning.”

“Right. No more whining.”

They set to work emptying her wardrobe. Since this was to be a short trip, Nicole would pack only a few changes of clothes and personal items. The rest of her things she'd take with her on her return trip. Jane came in to help them, conversing easily with Lillian and sharing her and Jessica's plans for the going-away party.

She wished she could stretch out these final moments. All too soon, the supper dishes were cleaned and put away and Megan arrived to escort Lillian home. It was impossible to hold back the tears as she bid her older sister goodbye. Silly, really, when this wouldn't be the last.

She slept fitfully that night, thoughts of the upcoming trip plaguing her. And thoughts of Quinn. He'd worn a look of resignation in the barn last night. For a split second, she'd believed he might ask her to reconsider, and when he hadn't, her capricious heart had actually mourned.

I'll feel better once I reach the city and see with my own eyes the endless adventures awaiting me.

The lack of proper rest did nothing to improve her mood the following morning. As Caleb pulled the wagon to a stop in front of what used to be the mercantile, he remarked on her silence.

“Something eating you?” Beneath the hat's brim, his dark eyes probed hers. “I figured I'd be hard put to keep you in your seat at this point.”

“I'm simply fatigued from all the packing yesterday.” She shrugged, averting her gaze to the rubble.

She was supposed to be excited. Over the moon. Today was the first day of her new life, after all. Gatlinburg would soon be nothing but a memory.

Instead, her heart felt heavy, weighted with sorrow.

Fiddling with her bonnet strings, she prayed.
Lord, I don't understand why I'm feeling this way. Help me to embrace change. Lead me to my new store.

Caleb tipped his hat up. “Looks like they're making progress.” He squinted at two figures working where the sales counter used to be, digging for salvageable items. “Is that Kenneth and his pa?”

“Surely not.”

Caleb hopped off the wagon seat and came around to assist her down. He pointed to the spot where the checker game and stove used to be. “That's got to be Timothy. Can't miss the red hair.”

She spotted Quinn the same moment he became aware of their presence. With a word to the man beside him, he quickly picked his way through the site, long strides carrying him across the street. He was still wearing the sling, she was glad to note. He'd heal faster that way.

When he'd reached them, he and Caleb shook hands. “You've got a lot of helpers.”

Quinn ran his fingers through his windswept hair. His intense gaze locked onto her face, as if loath to look at anything else. “I was not expecting a turnout like this, that's for sure. I'm grateful for the support.”

Nicole dragged air into her oxygen-starved lungs. She could hardly think, trying desperately to imprint everything about him into her memory.

“Is that Kenneth and Timothy?” she forced out.

“It is. All three families came to me yesterday. Your tormentors apologized for what they did to you. They wanted to apologize to you in person.” He frowned. “I hope you don't mind that I suggested they write letters instead. I knew you were busy and...I wasn't sure how you would feel about conversing with them face-to-face.”

Quinn was intent on protecting her to the very end, was he? How would her life suffer without such a man in it?

“That was thoughtful of you. You were right to suggest such a thing.”

A little of the tension holding him rigid seemed to ease.

“And I'm glad you allowed them to assist you,” she said. “Why hold a grudge, right?”

He didn't smile, but affection broke through the clouds in the honeyed depths of his eyes.

Caleb cleared his throat and pushed off from the wagon. “I'll be over there talking to Shane.”

She and Quinn watched as he sauntered across the street. The ensuing silence bordered on awkward, and she hated the uncomfortable tension stretching between them.

Eyeing the sling, she said, “You're taking it easy, I hope?”

“Following doctor's orders to the letter.”

Free hand fisted at his side, he was somber and still, nothing like the lighthearted boss she'd come to know. But then, he was injured and dealing with the stress of rebuilding.

“They seem to be making fast progress,” she said to fill the silence. “I'm eager to see what all is accomplished while I'm gone. Maybe I'll be around long enough to see your new store take shape. Who are you going to hire in my place?”

His gaze was hooded. “I've been talking to a few young men who've voiced interest in the position.”

Nicole's relief that he wasn't hiring a female was short-lived. It didn't matter. Eventually, he'd turn his attention to finding a suitable wife. He'd made his wish for a wife and children plain.

What felt like a physical pain dug into her chest and wouldn't be displaced.

“Quinn,” someone called. “We need your advice over here.”

He twisted and lifted a hand in acknowledgment. Turning back, he clipped out, “I have to go. And you should, too. You've a long journey ahead of you.”

Why was he being so distant and formal?

Where was the easy smile?

Swallowing the sudden thickness in her throat, she wrung her hands. “You're right. I'll, uh, see you in a few days?”

“Take care of yourself.”

He was going to walk away.

On impulse, Nicole threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. He stiffened. Then, after a moment's hesitation, his free arm came around her and crushed her to him. Her entire being rejoiced.

Until he let go and, without another glance, spun on his heel and left her alone.

* * *

The trip was uneventful.

Nicole tamped down her emotions and concentrated on the changing scenery. Beside her, Caleb was quiet, thoughtful, as if in tune with her wish to remain locked in her own confusing world. They reached Knoxville around suppertime. The downtown area near the Tennessee River was bustling with people—young dock workers, professional gentlemen, well-dressed ladies walking arm in arm and peering into shop windows. Wagons and single riders clogged the dirt streets.

She'd forgotten how noisy the city could be. Covering her nose, she attempted to block out the overpowering scent of manure and animal sweat. Above the rooftops was nothing but endless sky. Already she missed the familiar mountain peaks.

Between the occasional jostle of passersby, Nicole gave herself a stern talking-to. This was the fulfillment of a lifelong dream—she was not going to allow minor irritations to detract from that. Besides, Caleb had taken time away from Rebecca to accompany her here. She owed it to him to at least act overjoyed.

He chose a moderate-size hotel that, while not upscale, was clean and respectable-looking. After he'd secured two rooms, they shared a hot meal in that establishment's dining room.

She sipped her lemonade, wondered if Quinn was sitting down to supper with Lucian, Megan and the siblings right then.

“For a small hotel, they provide a fine-tasting meal.” She indicated the buttery roll and steak that was surprisingly tender.

Caleb washed down his food with a healthy swig of steaming coffee. His assessing gaze touched on the other diners quietly conversing. The clink of silverware against china provided background noise. “We chose well. Centrally located, affordable and safe. Listen, why don't you retire to your room. I'll inquire about a reputable lawyer who can point us to available properties.”

She was tired and would love a chance to rid herself of trail grit. Laying aside her napkin, she dredged up a grateful smile. “Thank you, Caleb. I know you'd rather be at home right now. I appreciate your assistance in this matter.”

Concern darkened his eyes, the scar fanning across his temple stretching. “If you've changed your mind, we can leave for Gatlinburg first thing in the morning.”

She shook her head. “I owe it to myself to give this a shot.”

He studied her a long moment, then dipped his head. “All right.”

Leaving him to settle the bill, Nicole retreated upstairs to her room. While not spacious, it was tidy, and a colorful quilt covered the bed. The view from the water-spotted window was one of the wide, murky green river. Boats bobbed in the water and workers scurried about the docks.

She watched the activity for a while before seeking out the water pitcher in the corner. While preparing for bed, her mind was consumed with thoughts of home. What were the twins doing? She hoped they'd give Puffy ample attention. He liked to be held and scratched behind his ears. Lillian was likely tucked into the library chair, curled up with a book. And Mrs. Calhoun was no doubt plying Patrick with treats in an effort to fatten him up.

Perhaps the shop space she chose wouldn't be available for some time. She could return home and spend several more weeks with her loved ones. Maybe even a month or two. She'd be able to see Quinn's new store.

She was about to blow out the lamp when a knock sounded. Caleb filled the doorway, hat in hand, expression confident.

“I located a lawyer, a Mr. John Arthur. The hotel manager recommended him, and I have to say he strikes me as an honest sort. He's going to show us several properties tomorrow morning.”

“Wonderful.”

He tipped his head to indicate the room. “You all settled in? Need anything before I retire?”

“No. I was just about to turn in when you knocked.”

“I'm right next door if you need me.”

“Sleep well, Caleb.”

“You, too, Nicki.” With a wink, he continued along the dim hallway.

The next morning, after a sumptuous breakfast of sausage, bacon and eggs and a stack of johnnycakes, she and Caleb walked to the lawyer's office. Once again, the boardwalk was crowded, the street traffic more than she was accustomed to. After introductions, Mr. Arthur took them to the first shop not far from the hotel. Nicole studied the long, narrow room with a critical eye. It had been used as a barbershop, which made her think of Tom Leighton and Jane and home.

“Not this one.”

Mr. Arthur graciously bowed his head and swept them off to a quieter location several streets away from the hotel. Nicole liked the space, but the price was higher than she'd planned to pay.

Caleb's expression was disapproving. “This is too far from the activity. You wouldn't get as many customers here.”

The lawyer cocked his head. “I have one other location I think will better suit your needs.”

Located close to the river yet a fair distance from the dock entrance, the former millenary shop occupied the corner lot. There was even a view of the water from the front window. Diagonal from her was a nice-looking café called Rose's.

Caleb joined her at the window. “The shops on this end appear to be more upscale. And the customers going in there—” he pointed to Rose's “—look like possible future customers of a boutique like yours.”

Nicole turned to the older man. “When is this one available?”

“Actually, it's ready for occupation now. You could set up today, if you were so inclined.”

“Today.” That meant no waiting period.

Instantly, those final, heart-rending moments with Quinn filtered through her consciousness. Could she truly find the wherewithal to say goodbye to him a second time? Going back, knowing she was leaving again would be too much to bear, she realized.

“I'll take it.”

“I'll draw up the paperwork.”

Nicole grabbed Caleb's arm. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

His black brows met over his nose. “Of course.” To the lawyer, he said, “My cousin and I are going across the street for coffee. We'll meet you at your office in an hour.”