Heroes of Heartbreak Creek 02 (30 page)

Still, he was her father. And she wouldn’t allow her anger at him to cast a pall over her new beginning with Rafe. She owed herself that.

His pace slowed as he went up the terrace steps. At the top, he paused, one hand braced on the stone railing, his head hanging.

“Father,” she said, coming up the steps behind him.

He turned. His face was alarmingly pale and tears glinted in his reddened eyes. Pushing away from the railing, he straightened. “Come to gloat, have you, daughter?” he asked in a quavering voice.

He had once been the strength in her life. The indulger of her every whim. A mostly benign tyrant who had no one else in his life but a lost, motherless girl. Now he was the one who was lost—a broken, frightened man bolstered by the last remnants of angry pride.

“No, Father. I’ve come to tell you good-bye.”

“Good-bye, then.” He waved her away, head turned as if ashamed to show his weakness even in front of the daughter who knew all of his faults. “Don’t worry about me. I crawled out of the black pits once, and I can do it again.”

She doubted it. But that wasn’t why she had come. “I wanted to give you this.” She handed him her reticule, weighted again with the money she had received from her pawned jewels. She had no intention of giving him her winnings, but by rights, this money belonged to him. She didn’t want to leave him completely without funds.

“What’s this?” Spreading the drawstring, he peered inside. A look of shock came over his face. “Where did you get this?”

“From you.”

“Me?”

“I sold all the jewelry you gave me. Now I give it back to you in the hope that it will keep you out of debtor’s prison.”

His mouth worked. He blinked hard.

Fearing some lingering shred of fatherly pride might force him to refuse her offering, she quickly added, “Please take it, Father. With my blessing. And my thanks for all you’ve done for me and Jamie.”

He looked up, his face a mask of despair, not even bothering to hide the tears rolling down his cheeks. “I never meant to hurt you, Josephine. You must know that. But when I saw the way of it . . .”

“I understand, and I harbor no animosity toward you. I just wish . . .” She faltered, not sure what she wished. For things to be different? For him to be a more loving father, and for her to be a more deserving daughter? They had each done their best, but sometimes that wasn’t enough. “I just wish you well, Father.”

He gave a wobbly smile. “Perhaps we’ll meet again in America.”

“Perhaps.” They stood in awkward silence for a moment. “Jamie will want to tell you good-bye. Shall I get him?”

“No.” He swiped a trembling hand over his damp cheeks. “I don’t want him to see me like this. You tell him good-bye for me.”

“But—”

“Perhaps I’ll come by the docks to see you off,” he cut in. “It’s not far from the train station. Now go.” He pulled her into a rough hug—the first he’d given her in many a year—then abruptly let her go. “Take care of yourself, child.”

“You, too, Father.”

As she watched him walk away, she felt a surprising mix of emotions. Relief, regret, a deep sense of loss . . . not only because her father would no longer be a part of her life, but because the girl who had been his daughter, and who had worked so hard to please him, was gone forever, too.

But mostly she felt . . . free.

When she approached the servants’ wing a few minutes later, she saw Rafe coming down the back staircase with Jamie in tow. Seeing her son’s look of concern, and the stiff way Rafe held himself, she wondered if all was well. Then they spotted her, and bright smiles broke over their faces.

“Is Pems truly all right?” Jamie asked, rushing toward her.

“Yes, dearest. A bit banged up, but he’ll be well soon.”

“I saved an apple from breakfast. Do you think he’ll like it?”

“I’m certain of it.” As they walked toward the entry, Josephine glanced worriedly at Rafe over Jamie’s blond head, saddened by the weary strain on his face. But it was over now. Nothing ahead but a bright, shining future and a new start for all three of them.

Jamie’s steps slowed. He looked out the terrace doors. “What about him?”

Josephine looked over to see William standing with his hands tucked behind his back, staring down into the rose garden and two reflecting pools. He was dressed for travel, his fur-trimmed overcoat adding to his bulk, his top hat resting on the balustrade beside him.

Another sad, lonely man. Another life ruined by foolish choices.

On impulse, she bent down in front of her son. “Would you like to tell the baron good-bye?”

She watched him study the solitary figure, saw resistance in the small frown creasing his brows. Then he surprised her by nodding. “I suppose I should.”

Motioning for Rafe to wait, she rose. Holding Jamie’s small hand in her own, they stepped through the terrace doors. “Good afternoon, Baron Adderly.”

With a start, he turned, saw Jamie, and gave a stiff smile. “Good afternoon. On your way to America, are you?”

“We are. But first, we wanted to say good-bye.” Resting a hand on her son’s shoulder, she gave a squeeze of encouragement.

“Good-bye, sir.” Jamie held out his hand.

After a look of surprise, William took the small hand in his own, gave it a gentle shake then released it. “Good-bye, Jamie. I enjoyed meeting you. I know Neddy enjoyed meeting you, too.”

“Perhaps I shall write to him. Do you think he would like that?”

“I’m sure he would.”

A moment passed in awkward silence, then Jamie said, “Thank you for the horse, sir. I’m sorry I won’t be able to take Thunder to America with me. Perhaps if I come back to visit someday, I’ll be big enough to ride him.”

“I’m certain you will be.”

Another awkward pause. Then William cleared his throat and said, “I wish, Jamie, that I had done things differently. Come to see you sooner and spent more time with you. I regret that, and am sorry for it. Even so, I want you to know that I think you are a fine boy, and I shall always be proud to call you my son. And . . . and I hope you will not forget me.”

“I shan’t, sir.”

Seeing the conversation had reached its end, Josephine nodded to Rafe. As he came forward, she gave Jamie’s shoulder a pat. “Why don’t you and Mr. Jessup go feed the swans? I shall only be a moment.”

She and William watched them go down the steps toward the ponds, then William turned to her with a wistful smile. “Mr. Jessup is very good with him.”

“Rafe is a kind and honorable man. He cares deeply for Jamie and will treat him well.”

“I’m glad. I only wish . . .” The words trailed off on a deep sigh. “I did love you, you know. Had I been a different man . . . a better man . . . I would have done right by you, rather than bowing to my father’s edicts.”

“I know. I should have made wiser decisions, as well. But how could I resist?” she added, smiling sadly at the memory. “You were quite the grandest thing that had ever come into my sixteen-year-old life.”

“So you don’t hate me?”

“Admittedly, I did for a time. But no longer. We are vastly different people now, William, and it avails us nothing to cling to the past.”

“Quite.” He nodded and looked away, regret still showing in his eyes.

For some reason she didn’t fully understand, even after all the pain this man had once caused her, she didn’t want to part from him in bitterness. Perhaps because she was the one walking away the better person. No regrets. No remorse. She had Jamie, and Rafe, and a new life awaiting her, and all he had was an empty title, a lonely future, and a dying son.

“William, I know this has not ended as you’d hoped. But you must put that aside and think of Neddy now. He needs his father. Save for you, he has no one to turn to in the difficult trials ahead. I urge you to enjoy the time you have left together, rather than spending precious energy worrying about the barony. Take him to a warmer clime. See other doctors. Medical advances are made every day. Don’t give up on him yet. Or on yourself.”

For a long time, he didn’t speak, but watched the man and the boy down at the pond, trying to lure the birds to the bank. Jamie’s childish laughter drifted up to them as a swan rose partway out of the water, flapping its great wings. William sighed and turned to her with that wistful smile again. “You’re correct, of course. I fear I’ve been blinded by duty. Hurt so many for the sake of a title.”

“It’s not too late to change.”

“I hope that’s true.” He took her hand in his. “Thank you, Josephine. For your understanding. For your kindness toward Neddy.” His gaze returned to Jamie, one arm across the shoulder of the man hunkered on his heels by his side, their blond heads catching the late afternoon sun. “And for your gentle care of Jamie. You have done well with him.”

“He’s a fine boy.” Pride and love swelled within her, so intense it brought a sting to her eyes. “I think he will be a good man someday.”

“I have no doubt of it.” Releasing her hand, he brushed back his thinning hair and picked up his hat. “Well . . .” His gaze sought Jamie again. “Tell Mr. Jessup . . .”

She saw him falter and wondered how difficult it must be for a father to put his son in the care of another. To never see him again. To know that another man would raise his child—nurture and protect him and teach him all the things a father teaches a son.

A precious gift put in a stranger’s hands.

She doubted she would have had the strength to do it.

On impulse, she reached out and rested her fingers on his arm. “If it’s any comfort to you, William, know that Jamie will be dearly loved. And someday, somewhere in this world there will be a fine, strong man with Adderly blood in his veins, who will carry the best of both of us within his heart.”

Tears formed in his eyes. “Thank you for that, Josephine. You’re a forgiving woman.” With a nod, he donned his hat, turned, and walked away, the sag in his shoulders making him look a good bit older than his thirty-some years.

T
he Liverpool docks were only eight miles away, but it took them well over two hours because of Pembroke. Rafe didn’t want to push him too hard.

Besides, with his back a mass of cramping muscles, the less jarring he suffered in the unsprung cart, the better. By the time they arrived at the pier, the Kirkwell horses were already aboard and seamen were loading the last of their provisions onto the ship.

After saying their good-byes, Thomas took Pems up the lower gangplank into the hold where the other horses were already penned, and Gordon and Henny took Jamie up the gangplank to the upper deck where a uniformed sailor stood ready to greet them and show them to their quarters.

Moving stiffly, Rafe rummaged through his trunk in the back of the constable’s cart, collected the tablet, then stepped back so the sailors could carry the trunk aboard. Sending Hicks on his way—wearing a nice flush and a happily befuddled look on his stubbled face—Rafe joined the countess and Josie, who were watching Ash bark orders at the men loading his carriage and team onto his channel freighter for the trip back to Scotland.

“He does so love ordering others about,” the countess mused, smiling fondly at her shouting husband.

“But not you,” Josie guessed.

“Not usually. Although sometimes . . . but never mind that. Ready to go, Rayford?”

Guessing the nature of the orders Ash gave his countess, Rafe bit back a smile. “I am. But I wanted to ask a favor before we board.” He handed over the dog-eared tablet. “This is Thomas’s story. Could you please see that your publisher gets this? It’s not finished, and I know it’s not what Chesterfield expects, but I think it’s good. If he likes it, we can send the rest after we reach Heartbreak Creek.”

“I’m sure it’s wonderful. I shall see that he gets it right away.”

After carefully tucking the tablet into the traveling case at her feet, she studied the two of them with tear-bright eyes. “I wish I could photograph you just as you are. But Ash won’t let me near my emulsion chemicals. He’s afraid I’ll blow everyone up. Understandable, I suppose, considering his past military experiences.” She paused to dab gloved fingertips at her leaking eyes. “Do tell Luce and Tait and the Brodies and Audra and Ethan . . .” Her voice broke. Reaching out, she gripped each of their hands with surprising strength. “Tell them I miss them terribly and hope to see them soon.”

“We will,” Josephine said in a quavering voice.

Rafe nodded and, fearing they would both burst into tears, quickly added, “And you’ll send word when the prince arrives?”

“Viscount.” Releasing their hands, Maddie dabbed at her eyes again. “I’m sure Ash will be crowing it from the rooftops. I just pray he doesn’t have him swinging a toy claymore and fitted for pipes before he leaves the cradle.”

No one mentioned the possibility that the child would be a girl.

Thomas suddenly appeared, startling the three of them. He handed the countess a crumpled envelope. “You will send this to Prudence Lincoln.”

“Of course. But aren’t you seeing her on your way through Indiana?”

“Yes. But we will travel slow and this must reach her before I do. You will see that it does.”

Tucking the envelope into her coat pocket, Lady Kirkwell nodded. “I will.”

Thomas never requested or asked. He instructed. Rafe hadn’t been able to break him of that habit, nor was he sure he should. That unwavering confidence was part of who the Cheyenne was.

Maddie was pulling a parcel from the case at her feet when Ash walked up. After issuing last-minute instructions to Thomas about the horses, the Cheyenne nodded, gave a long, meaningful look to the countess, then without a word, turned and went back to the freighter.

Picking up the case, Ash slipped an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Come along, lass. The tide is turning, and if we’re to see Scotland before the first snows, we’d best leave now.” It was obvious to Rafe that the Scot was anxious to get back to his beloved Highlands.

Maddie gave Josie one last hug, then pressed the parcel into her hands. “For your wedding. I wish we could be there, but hopefully these will bring you luck.”

New tears filled Josie’s eyes. Rafe had never seen so much crying over a simple good-bye. “Thank you both for all you’ve done for Jamie and me.”

“You’re part of our Heartbreak Creek family now.”

“Aye. So prepare yourself, lass, for the welcome you’ll receive from the rest of the family when you arrive in Colorado.” He grinned at Rafe.

Rafe grinned back. Josie had no idea what awaited her.

“I shall write to them of your arrival,” Maddie promised.

“All aboard that’s coming aboard,” a gruff voice called as sailors rushed from one bollard to the next, loosening the mooring lines that anchored the tall oceangoing steamer to the pier.

Fearing more tearful good-byes, Rafe urged Josie up the gangplank just as the ship’s steam whistle pierced the salty air. Henny and Gordon and Jamie joined them on deck to watch the ship drift away from the pier.

“Look!” Jamie cried, waving wildly. “It’s Grandfather! See him waving? He came to see us off, Mother. I knew he would.”

Rafe saw the tears in Josie’s eyes, and took her hand in his. “Maybe he’ll come see us in Colorado,” he offered halfheartedly.

“Oh, I pray not,” Josie murmured, lifting a hand in farewell. “You would be at each other’s throats in a week.”

Rafe couldn’t argue the truth of that.

Knowing this would be a difficult parting for Josie, he stood with her at the rail, watching the lights of Liverpool dim. By the time the dark silhouette of England and then the green shores of Ireland faded into mist, the captain, a Scot named Andrew Stewart, came to welcome them aboard.

“Lord Kirkwell said I was to perform a marriage ceremony.”

“You’re licensed to do that?” Rafe had to ask. Ash might be honorable, but he was also slippery.

A twinkle came into the Scot’s eyes. “Aye. Since I’m also an ordained Presbyterian minister. Kirkwell dinna tell you?”

“He forgot to mention it.” Relieved, Rafe suggested later in the evening after dinner for the ceremony.

Captain Stewart grinned through a tangle of teeth half-hidden behind a bushy red beard and mustache. He could have been Hammersmith’s twin, except Stewart had a full head of hair, as well. “The sooner, the better, eh, lad?”

Rafe grinned. Josie looked down at her shoes.

“So it is, then. We dine in an hour. A seaman will show you the way.”

 • • • 

As Josephine stepped through the narrow doorway into their quarters, she looked around. Rather cramped, but serviceable. A table and chair bolted to the floor. A bed big enough for two bolted to the wall. A lamp bolted beside it, and another bolted to the table. Their trunks were stowed under the bed, with straps to keep them from sliding, and several clothing hooks were spaced along the wall beside the bed. There was one tiny, salt-crusted porthole.

Definitely not the
Oceanic.
But Josie felt a thrill of excitement, nonetheless. Two weeks in this cozy nest, alone with Rafe. She needed nothing else.

“You can’t stay,” she told her betrothed, pushing him back into the hallway. “It would be bad luck. But if you see Henny, please send her to me.”

After the door closed behind him, she opened Maddie’s parcel.

It was filled with treasures. A beautiful paisley shawl. A lacy blue garter, a cameo, a dried blossom of some sort, and a sixpence coin. There was also a note.

‘Dearest Josephine,’
Maddie had written.

‘Since I cannot be there to share this wonderful moment, please accept these small tokens of the great admiration I feel for you. In the tradition of Scottish weddings, I have included . . .

Something old—the pressed thistle blossom I carried in my own wedding.

Something new—the paisley shawl made of Kirkwell wool and woven by our talented Irish weavers.

Something borrowed—a cameo of our Queen, to remind you of home.

Something blue—what wedding would be complete without a blue garter?

And finally, a lucky sixpence in your shoe—to ensure a prosperous future.

I am certain you will be a beautiful bride. A shipboard wedding sounds quite romantic, but don’t be surprised if the ladies of Heartbreak Creek insist on a more traditional church wedding after you arrive. Hopefully, they will wait until I return to enjoy the festivities with you.

Your new sister,

Maddie Kirkwell’

Josephine almost burst into tears. Having been an object of pity and scorn for so long, this simple act of friendship was almost more than she could bear.

The wedding was brief and simple. Facing Rafe as they spoke their vows, flanked by her son, witnessed by Thomas and Henny and Gordon, and wearing the shawl and other items Maddie had given her, Josephine felt like the most blessed bride in the world.

 • • • 

Rafe fought an undercurrent of panic. Not regret. Never regret. But he’d suffered failure before in his life, and now as he faced the prospect of being a husband and father, his confidence wavered.

But not for long. When he looked at his wife, he realized it didn’t matter what quirk of fate had brought them together—if it was divine providence, or blind luck, or whether a man like him deserved a woman as fine as Josie. He just knew that beside her was where he was supposed to be. Needed to be.

After the short celebration—Captain Stewart wouldn’t accept recompense for officiating, but seemed quite appreciative of the bottle of Northbridge Whisky Ash had sent along—the wedding party went on deck to look at the stars that cast a shimmering dome from one watery horizon to the other.

Jamie was especially enthralled, more so when Thomas took the time to point out the North Star and explain the Indian origins of several constellations. Rafe hoped the stories weren’t as grisly as his other native legends.

The night was cool, a sharp breeze filling the auxiliary sails stretched overhead, sending the ship skimming over gentle swells. He hoped the weather held. He hoped the horses would adjust quickly. He hoped his back would quit hurting soon. He had plans.

Trying to ease it, he leaned against the rail, caught Josie’s worried look, and quickly straightened. But the longer they stood in the damp air, the more his muscles tightened. Worried that he might not be able to perform his duties later, he considered breaking the seal on the other bottle of whisky Ash had sent along. But if he dosed himself with enough alcohol to deaden his pain, he would probably deaden everything else as well. Not a risk he wanted to take.

When they finally went to their quarters, he left Josie in their cabin to change—hopefully not into that voluminous nightgown—and went down to check on Pems.

He seemed to be resting well, eating and taking water. Thomas had come down, too—after changing back into his Indian attire—and he assured Rafe that he would check on him during the night as Ash had ordered.

“What is wrong with your back?”

Rafe gave a wry smile. “Is it that obvious? I strained it during the race. It’s spasms in the muscles. I’ve had it before. Eventually it fades.”

Thomas went to the medicine trunk Hammersmith had sent with them, pulled out a familiar brown bottle, and handed it to Rafe. “Lift your shirt.”

“Horse liniment? Are you joking? She won’t come anywhere near me if I put on that stinking stuff.”

Thomas smirked, dangling the bottle like a lure. “Do you want her or not?”

Rafe sighed. “I’ll take it with me. If I still need it, I’ll use it.”

“Put her on top. That will make it easier.”

Hell.
Now he was receiving instructions in bedding his wife from a loincloth-wearing savage. It was humiliating.

But a fine idea. An image formed in his mind. Josie bouncing above him, that dark mane of hair flying, her pert breasts jiggling as she rode him to bliss.

Anxious to get started, he slipped the bottle into his jacket pocket and hobbled up the narrow metal ladder to the deck where their cabin was.

 • • • 

Josephine nervously paced the center of the small room, wondering when Rafe would return. She had felt him withdrawing all evening; he had hardly spoken a word through dinner or during their walk on the deck.

Something was wrong.

Was he having regrets?

She thought for a moment, then discarded the notion. She had seen the desire in his blue eyes whenever their gazes had met. He loved her. She didn’t doubt that. He was happy they were going with him to America.

Then what?

A knock, then the door opened and Rafe stepped in. “Sorry to be so long. I went to check on Pems.”

“How is he?’

“Doing well. Thomas is keeping an eye on him.”

As he crossed to the table, she studied his face, saw the lines of tension around his eyes and mouth, and her bravado faded. He wasn’t wearing the expression of a man anxious to claim his bride. In fact, he hadn’t even noticed her standing there, wearing little more than a quilt and a nervous smile.

Bracing one hand on the table, he turned stiffly. And finally, he noticed her. His eyes went wide, his gaze sweeping from the loosened hair fanning over her bare shoulders to the toes showing beneath the quilt wrapped around her naked body.

“I’ve been waiting,” she said, and let the quilt drop.

“Josie.” He took a step, then stopped, his face twisting into a grimace. “Damn.” He braced his hands on the tabletop. “Damnit to hell.”

Mortified, she grabbed for her robe, hanging on a hook. She had disgusted him with her wanton behavior. Made a fool of herself.
Silly woman.

“No,” he ground out, raising a hand. “It’s not that. It’s not you, Josie. It’s my back.”

She clutched the robe closed over her breasts. “What’s wrong with your back?”

“Muscle cramps. I thought it would get better, but it hasn’t.” He gave that crooked smile. “And if seeing you naked doesn’t do the trick, nothing will.”

Relieved that she hadn’t ruined everything, she quickly belted the robe, tossed the quilt on the bed, and went to him. “Let me see.” She gently eased the jacket from his wide shoulders.