Chapter Nine

Cora

After dinner, Nick showed Justin and Cora to the spare rooms upstairs. Cora followed him back upstairs to the room next to her washroom. Most of the house was messy, but this room was not. It was tidy and had some decidedly feminine touches. Nick saw her fingering the lacy curtains.

“My sister-in-law, Charlotte, is a seamstress. She sewed the curtains and bedding for all the bedrooms. She wanted at least one room in the house to have some lace.”

“It’s very pretty,” Cora said. “I wouldn’t have thought a man like you would have something so lovely.”

Justin laughed softly.

Nick leaned against the doorway and directed a stern look at Justin. “The two of you are ganging up on me?”

The boy nodded.

“You, mister, are taking a bath tonight too,” Nick growled. “I’ve never seen such a grubby kid. Who knows what’s under all that dirt?”

Justin folded his arms across his chest and shook his head.

“Think again, son. You’re not crawling into any of my beds with ten pounds of grit and grime. Go on, start a bath. I’ll bring some hot water and one of my nightshirts.”

Cora had to agree with Nick. The boy was filthy. There hadn’t been a chance to wash anywhere along the way. When she’d met him, he was dirty enough, but over the days he’d caked on even more.

“Nick’s right. You should wash up.”

Justin stared in shock. When neither of them backed down, he went to the washroom and shut the door. Cora and Nick waited but when they didn’t hear water running, Nick went to the door.

“Justin, you need help?”

The boy opened the door and looked out. Tears filled his eyes and left a trail down his face.

“You crying because you have to take a bath?” Nick asked in disbelief. “You got more dust on you than I have in my corral.”

Justin wiped his face with his forearm, smearing the tears across his face. He shook his head.

“Go on, then,” Nick said, this time a little more gently.

Justin closed the door. A moment later, the water started. Cora’s heart squeezed with pity for the boy. She wondered what he’d gone through in his life. He was small and fragile, and she’d worried about him from the moment she’d met him. They were two strangers in a crowded train station one moment, and unlikely traveling companions the next.

Nick left and returned with hot water and a nightshirt for Justin. He opened the door and a yelp echoed from the direction of the tub.

“Take it easy. I’m just throwing your nightshirt on the shelf. I’ll set the kettle on the counter.” Nick shut the door. “Dang, that boy must like staying dirty.”

“He’s frightened. That’s all.”

Nick shook his head. His dismissive attitude irked Cora.

“He probably thinks you’ve kidnapped us.”

Nick stopped in the door and frowned.

“You could see how he would arrive at that conclusion. You picked us up with a promise of taking us to town and now you’re practically forcing us to stay with you, in your home. How can either of us know for certain what sort of man you are?”

“Don’t you fill his head with any of your hysterics, Cora. I’m not kidnapping anyone. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to town.”

“I need to wash my clothes.” She glanced down and grimaced. “I can’t go to town in your cast-offs.”

A smile curved his lips. “Then we’ll go the next day.”

“What’s so funny?”

“One minute you suggest I’m kidnapping you and the next you tell me you need to stay an extra day to wash your clothes.”

“My clothes are drenched in river water, if you recall.”

“I recall, Cora. I’m the one who fished them out of the river.”

“Yes… thank you for that and for helping me,” she said almost grudgingly. “In the morning, I’ll wash my things and perhaps you’d be so kind as to take me into town the following day.”

“Into town?”

She nodded.

“You don’t want me to take you to David’s?”

The name of her intended made her gasp. “And how would I explain that I’d spent two nights under your roof?”

“I’ll explain it to him. And then you can tell him good-bye.”

“I have an arrangement with David Tarrant, I’ll have you know. You can’t simply make other plans for me.”

He leaned against the door and scrubbed a hand down his face. “What do you know about him, exactly?”

“The bridal broker assured me that he was a man of superior quality. He owns 25,000 acres.”

Nick snorted. “He owns less than fifty.”

“I don’t believe you. I have letters of recommendation and references.”

“From who?” Nick demanded. “I’d like to know who recommended David Tarrant. The man hasn’t done an honest day of work in his life. He inherited his money and land and squanders it away every day of his life.”

“Well, of course you don’t have anything good to say about him. I’m hardly surprised.”

Nick grinned. “Did the reference letters mention how many children he has?”

Cora felt the blood drain from her face. “He’s been married?”

“Twice.”

“What happened to his wives?”

“Died in childbirth. Between the two wives, David’s got a half-dozen children.”

Cora stared for a moment and gave a breathless laugh. She rubbed her forehead as she tried to regain her composure. “Oh, Nick, you had me there for a moment. David’s not that old. A half-dozen children. If you’re going to spin tales, you should use details that are somewhat plausible.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I have an obligation to David, one I intend to keep. You seem to bear some ill will to the man and it only serves to lower my opinion of you, Mr. Travis.”

He gave her a cheerful smile. “All right, Cora. Think what you want. For now. I’ll let you and the boy get some rest. He can bed down with you or in the next room. If you need me, I’m the last room on the right.”

When he left, Cora grumbled to herself. He seemed to derive pleasure from tormenting her about David. The man who’d sent for her might not be the most charming and perhaps not the most caring. When she’d written and alluded to her months of illness, David hadn’t asked a single question, or shown a shred of concern. He seemed much more interested in her youth and her chasteness. But many men probably held the same concerns. When Miss Petit came out and asked if she was pure, it shouldn’t have come as too much of a surprise.

Her mood darkened. What if Nick was right about David? She wouldn’t mind if he had children. After all, she arrived with Justin in tow, but what if he couldn’t support a wife?

Nick seemed so different than her impression of David. He assumed that she was a widow, or perhaps simply compromised. He was certain that Justin was her child. He showed real concern and was sweet with Justin despite the boy’s strange ways. He had to know she couldn’t hear. He was well aware of Justin’s inability to talk, yet he cared about their well-being in a rough sort of way.

Earlier, when he’d brought her the bundle of dry clothing, he’d included a nightshirt. She shut the door, lowered the lantern wick and undressed. Justin emerged from the washroom and slipped into the bed.

Cora circled to his side. “You want to sleep here? With me?”

He nodded. Tucked into bedding, he lay with the blankets pulled to the bridge of his nose. He’d always worn his hat so low, she’d rarely glimpsed his eyes. But now, as he lay in bed, she could see his eyes well. They were dove gray, and etched with worry.

“It will be all right, Justin. I promise.”

His eyes watered.

She tried to offer some levity. “All right. I’ve never slept with another person. I hope I’m not a restless sleeper.”

She returned to her side of the bed, turned down the lamp and got under the covers. “Good night, Justin.”

The bed shifted. He patted her shoulder and she patted his hand. She knew without looking, that soon he would be fast asleep.

She lay in the darkness, trying not to think about the fact that she wore Nick’s nightshirt. It was warm and soft. That afternoon, he’d grabbed her from the swirling river water and she could still feel the band of steely strength around her waist. Later he’d carried her upstairs. He’d undressed her. She cringed at the memory, and shivered with unwelcome awareness.

Tomorrow would be a fresh start. She’d wipe the slate clean and banish any memory of Nick Travis from the turmoil of her mind. Closing her eyes, she drifted to sleep.

Sometime in the night, she woke with a start. She sat up in bed and looked around the room. Moonlight streamed through the window. A silvery glow lit the floor near the windows. After a moment of confusion, she remembered where she was.

To her dismay, Justin wasn’t sleeping next to her. Sometime in the night, he’d tossed the covers back. His spot was empty. She touched the blankets and found them warm.

In an instant she was out of the bed and moving down the hall. Moonlight lit the floor. She crept downstairs and made a beeline for the kitchen. The boy had awoken hungry, she assured herself. Of course, he had. He was a thin as a rail, always hungry. He likely searched the kitchen for something to eat.

But the kitchen was empty.

Cora’s heart raced. Her breathing quickened. If she hadn’t lost her hearing, she could call for the boy and she’d find him quickly, assuming he hadn’t left the house. What if he was gone? Why hadn’t she checked to see if he’d taken his boots?

Her brothers liked to play out this very scenario. They’d sit across the table, looking smug, their soft hands folded in front of their paunch, telling her how she couldn’t take of herself much less a baby. Justin was a child, not a baby, but still, he was vulnerable. He needed her. He had no one. And she’d lost him. Panic gripped her. She ran back upstairs. The lamp stood on the table, but no matches. She searched the room, trying to tamp down her terror. When she stumbled over his boots, she almost wept with relief.

A glow burnished the wood floor and grew brighter. Nick filled the doorway, holding a lamp. He yawned and scrubbed a hand over his face. “What’s wrong? Where’s Justin?”

“I don’t know. His boots are here. He must be in the house.”

Nick was bare-chested, she realized with dismay. His tousled hair and his dark beard made him look appealing, she realized with more dismay. What was wrong with her that she noticed such things? Her gaze drifted down. He wore a pair of pajama pants that were held up with a knotted, frayed drawstring.

“We’ll find him, Cora,” he said.

He beckoned her and held out his hand. She crossed the room, took it without hesitation and gave a slight sigh of relief. Once she got her eyes on the boy, she’d feel better, but Nick’s presence relieved her.

He squeezed her hand to catch her attention. “I can hear him. He’s in the house.”

“Thank goodness,” she murmured.

They searched the rooms, one by one. When they came to what she assumed was his library, she noted that there were more books stacked on tables than on the shelves.

“How do you manage without servants?” she asked.

He frowned. The lamplight made his expression almost fearsome.

“A small child could be lost for weeks amidst this clutter, Nick.”

She didn’t have to see his face to know he’d be displeased by her remark. Biting her lip, she tried to keep from laughing. Once she knew Justin was nearby, and they’d find him eventually, creeping through the dark house with Nick made her worries fall away. Her fears of the worst befalling Justin seemed silly and overwrought. Instead of fretting, she thought about the way Nick’s hand felt in hers. Strong but gentle, like Nick, she realized, surprise dawning in her mind.

When they reached the sitting room, Cora saw the silhouette. Justin sat on the couch, small and solitary, shadowed in moonlight. Her heart pinched with pain, but relief too.

She tugged her hand from Nick’s. Rushing to the boy, she stopped a few paces away. He lifted his gaze to her. Part of her had expected to find him weeping. Instead he gave her a matter-of-fact look.

Anger washed over her. “You frightened me, Justin. Don’t ever do that again, you wicked boy.” She clapped a hand to her mouth. Where had those words come from?

“I’m sorry,” she said, a little more gently. “But you really did give me a scare.”

Nick drew closer, casting the lantern’s light across both Justin and Cora.

The boy studied her for a long moment, shifted his gaze to Nick and then back to Cora. “My name’s not Justin.”

Cora stared, her gaze transfixed. Lowering to the couch, she watched his lips with disbelief. He’d spoken. It felt like a miracle. She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

Nick crouched in front of the child.

“My name is Justine – with an ‘e’ at the end.”

Nick set his hand on Cora’s arm. “Did you understand that?” He jerked his thumb towards the child. “She’s a girl.”

Cora turned to the child. “Justine?”

“Yes.”

Cora stared at the child with the cropped hair and suddenly saw her for the first time. Her delicate features, her high cheekbones and arched brows. “My goodness,” Cora marveled. “Of course, you’re a girl. With your grubby face and your hat, I never noticed how pretty you are.”

The child said nothing. Shadowed lamplight lit her features and without the layer of dirt, Cora could see the clear evidence. Despite the short, spiky hair, Justine was a comely child.

The girl spoke softly. “I changed everything when I ran away from the orphanage. It was easier that way.”

“Of course,” Cora said quietly. She didn’t understand completely, but she knew what it meant to run with the purpose of hiding and disappearing.

“I don’t know who David Tarrant is,” the girl said. “But I don’t want to know. And I don’t want you to go either. I want to stay with him.” She jerked her head towards Nick. “He said I could help him and that I’m good with the horses. That’s what I’m doing.”

Cora straightened. “I think we should discuss this in the morning. I want what’s best for you. Surely you must know that.”

Justine nodded. “I know.”

Cora shook her head. “This is quite a surprise. I’d wondered the first day, but couldn’t imagine how to ask.”

Justine gave a sheepish look. “I think I do all right as a boy.”

“And then when you showed me your wallet collection, I assumed I was mistaken.”

Justine’s smile faded. Her eyes widened for some reason.

Nick narrowed his eyes at her. “You’ve got a wallet collection?”

The girl gave a barely perceptible nod.

“They’re beautiful wallets. Italian leather. My father used to collect the very same type of wallet,” Cora mused. “He also collected pocket watches.”

Justine lifted her chin. “I got a few watches too.”

“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” Nick said, giving the girl steely look. “I’m happy to have you here, but make plenty sure you don’t add my wallet to your collection.”

“Is it Italian?” Cora asked in bewilderment.

Nick shook his head and got to his feet. He motioned for them to get up. “I’ve enjoyed our little chat, but it’s time everyone gets back to bed.”

They followed him up the stairs. Cora felt a flutter of embarrassment that she was out of bed in just a man’s nightshirt, but when Justine took her hand, she set aside her unease. They returned to their bed, got under the covers and just before Cora fell asleep, she felt the light touch of the girl’s hand on her shoulder.

“Justine…” Cora murmured.