An Unexpected Husband (The Colorado Brides Series) (2 page)

“This shall be a short trip,” I murmured. “Let’s go, Sally Anne. If nothing else, at least you’ll get your exercise this morning.”

And it was indeed a lovely day, still cool, but the sun had begun to warm me, the heat seeping through the shawl that was draped around my shoulders. There were others on the road, a horse and wagon up ahead, as people began their day. Farmers were in the fields, tending to crops. Harvest wasn't far off; the rains of summer had left the prairie lushly green, smattered with the yellow buds of sunflower-like weeds. There were snowcaps on the mountains in the distance, but they would melt by midday.

The serenity of nature began to diminish, as I neared town with its bustling thoroughfares and newly built brick businesses. I rode until I reached Lawrence Street, which was home to the infamous Criterion saloon. This was where the drunkards and thieves took up residence. I ignored the shouts and whistles of men, keeping my expression as bland as possible. Most of the miners from years ago had disappeared, because the easy to reach surface deposits had played out. They now worked deeper in the mountains, engaged in hard rock mining, or they had gone back east.

Our only hotel, the Broadwell House, with its decorative girders and lengthy front porch, was on the corner of Larimer and Sixteenth. The three-story clapboard structure was known for its luxurious accommodations, yet wildly diverse patrons. Everyone from trappers, miners, and the local elite had stayed here at one point or another. I had been inside once, because a friend had held her wedding reception here. As I dismounted Sally Anne, I tied the horse to the hitching post, mindful not to step in anything foul, because other animals had been here.

The lobby was rectangular with plush carpeted floors and mirrored walls behind a lengthy counter. A man dressed in a white shirt and suspenders spoke with a newly arrived couple, while a maid dusted a stone sculpture of a buffalo that sat on a small table. I waited for the couple to leave, approaching the counter.

“How can I help you?” the man asked.

“I’m here in regards to the nanny position.”

He smiled. “Ah, yes. That’ll be Mr. Carlyle’s suite, number thirty-two. You may go up. It’s on the second floor. I believe he’s still in residence.”

“Thank you.”

I vaguely remembered where the stairs were, passing the dining room, which teemed with men in top hats and sack coats, while women wore morning dresses. The aroma of coffee lingered as well as the acrid scent of tobacco. The maids were out in force, cleaning rooms, while couples strolled by; some carried luggage. The room in question was at the end of the hallway, although the door had just swung open, revealing a woman, who held a handkerchief to her nose.

She gazed at me with watery eyes. “I wouldn’t go in there, if I was you.”

She hurried by, while I stared after her. It was then that I heard the distinct sound of a baby crying.

Chapter Two

I knocked on the door, bracing myself for what I might find. Seeing the woman in tears did not bode well, but her emotional state was not my concern.

A maid appeared before me, dressed in black with a starched white apron. “You must be here for the nanny position.”

“Yes, I am.” A baby continued to cry, while I craned my neck to see further into the room.

“Do you have references? I can’t let you in unless you have a reference, two preferably.”

“I have them.”

She stood aside. “Very well then.”

“Thank you.” The parlor was furnished in heavy, dark furniture with equally heavy drapes and a thick carpet. A woman held a baby, while speaking to a man, although, from the stern expression on his face, the conversation wasn’t a pleasant one.

She said, “I’ve the strongest respect for discipline, sir. I believe that it’s necessary to allow the child to cry…to…to teach it to not expect to be coddled with each and every whimper.” She grasped the baby stiffly, as its wails continued unabated.

I hadn’t been perceived yet, as the maid had disappeared, though I was only several feet from them, standing with my hands behind my back.

“It is possible to spoil them thoroughly at this age, sir. A firm hand and a firm will are required when dealing with children, infants especially. They’ll learn to quiet themselves naturally when they know they won’t be indulged each time they fuss.”

The baby continued to scream, the sound escalating by the second. The rough manner in which it was being held seemed to exacerbate the situation. The man, who I presumed was the father, began to rub his forehead, using the tips of his fingers. Not being able to help myself, I approached them, reaching for the baby.

“Here, let me.” I took the warm, screeching bundle from the woman’s hands. “There, there now,” I cooed softly, bouncing her gently. “What’s all this fuss about?” She had been crying so ferociously, that she shuddered, her little body trembling. The ear-splitting sounds ceased at once, as I wandered to and fro, patting her back reassuringly. As with Gordon, I loved the way babies smelled, and I pressed my cheek to her head, inhaling the sweet fragrance.

“I’m sorry, but who are you?” asked a deep male voice.

“Mary Hampton. I’m here about the job, sir.” It was entirely quiet now, as the cries had ceased. “What’s her name?”

The question seemed to startle him. “Rosalind.”

“That’s very pretty. How old is she?”

“Six months.” He stared at the woman standing next to him. “I…think we’re finished, Mrs. Wentworth. Please leave your references, and I’ll look them over.”

“Thank you, sir.” She pointed to me. “This is what I would warn you about. Coddling will only teach them to continue to misbehave. This will set an unfortunate precedent. The infant will learn to manipulate those around her. My method is to reteach these ingrained habits by—”

“Thank you, Mrs. Wentworth. I’ll take it under advisement.” He led her to the door. “It’s refreshing to be able to hear myself think for once this morning.”

“Short-term gain will lead to long-term disaster, Mr. Carlyle. Mark my words.”

“If you say so.” He ushered her out of the door, closing it behind her.

I stared at him, over the top of Rosalind’s head, seeing him sigh, while closing his eyes. The baby hadn’t uttered another peep, resting comfortably against my chest. Her shallow breaths had reduced. She’d been quite upset, and now she was perfectly well.

“Would you like some tea?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you.”

His polished boots clicked on the wooden floor, as he strode across the room. “You’re the fifth interview this morning. I’ve a terrible headache.” I sat on a green velvet sofa, and he handed me a cup. “Will you be able to manage both?”

“I believe so. She’s awfully tired, sir.”

“Is that why she was crying?”

“There are only a few reasons for upset, tiredness being a big one.” I lifted the cup, having a sip.

“Do you require sugar or milk?”

“No, I’m fine.”

He sat in the chair opposite mine, crossing his legs. His look was thoughtful. “You seem too young.”

“I’m eighteen.”

“I was hoping for someone older, someone more experienced with children.”

I reached into my pocket, withdrawing the references. “I’ve been minding babies for years, sir. I’ve an extended family, and they all have children. Lots and lots of children.” I smiled politely.

He leaned forward, taking the envelopes from my fingers. “Thank you.”

“Are you in town long?”

“We’ve only just arrived. I’ll be here for a while, until my business is finished.”

Rosalind was well and truly asleep now, her soft snores filling my ears. I relaxed against the cushions, sipping the tea, which tasted delightful with hints of orange.

“You do seem rather at ease with babies.”

“I love babies.”

“So it seems.” He placed the references on a nearby table. “Look, I haven’t all morning to discuss the finer points of the job, although it seems you have a knack with children. Rosalind has approved of you. She’s completely out.” He withdrew a gold watch from inside his jacket, glancing at it. “I have a meeting I’m late for. What are your plans today?”

“I don’t have any, other than watching babies, either yours or my sisters’. There are plenty to go around.”

“The wet nurse is in the first door to the right. Her name is Megan Dodd. She’s with me, until I no longer need her. She has a little girl named Judy and a son named Joshua.”

“Does this mean I have the job?”

“If you do well today, I’ll look over the references later and make a decision.”

“Very well.”

“If you need anything, the maid, Allette, can assist you. Food, water, clean linens, whatever you require.” He got to his feet, his expression was sober, yet considering. “You’re not mentally imbalanced, are you?”

“No, of course not.”

“You won’t rob me blind?”

That notion was so ridiculous; I began to giggle. “I’ll leave the silver alone, sir.” I got to my feet. “I do think I’ll put her down, though. She’s completely out. I can find where things are. I can manage. You needn’t worry about anything.” He seemed reluctant to leave, his gaze straying to Rosalind. “You can kiss her goodbye, if you want. You can’t wake her.”

He approached, eyeing me, while a tingle of awareness shot down my backbone. It was then that I perceived how handsome he was, with dark, expressive eyes, arching cheekbones, and a neatly trimmed mustache. He pressed his lips to Rosalind’s cheek. It was clear then that he cherished his daughter greatly.

“I won’t be long, but I’ve meetings on and off today.”

“Yes, sir.”

“If I decide to hire you, I’ll go over all the details, the wages, and lodgings and such. There’s a small room across from Megan’s you can use, if we come to an agreement.”

“Yes, Mr. Carlyle.”

“I’ll be back in an hour.” He strode to the door, plucking a hat off a brass coat rack. He left without another word.

There was something compelling about him that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I would have to ponder these emotions later, after I had settled Rosalind for a nap and better acquainted myself with these new surroundings. I found the bassinette in the main bedchamber, which I assumed was Mr. Carlyle’s room. I left her on her back with the blanket to her neck. She was an adorable baby, with pretty pink cheeks and bee stung lips. Her hands had curled into loose fists, with tiny, trimmed nails on each finger. I couldn’t help speculating where her mother was or what line of work Mr. Carlyle was engaged in, but these questions would have to wait. I left the door ajar, wandering into the hallway.

I came face to face with a woman. “Oh!”

“Are you the new nanny?”

“I might be.” I held out my hand. “Mary Hampton.”

“Megan Dodd.” She held a baby who was a little younger than Rosalind. “Let’s sit in the parlor. There might be tea left.”

“Certainly.” She seemed familiar. “I’ve seen you before.”

“Yes, at church.”

She sat next to me on the sofa. “I can hold him, if you want. Then you can make yourself a cup of tea.”

“Oh, thank you.” A bundle came my way, and I took it into my arms. “How old is he?”

“Four months. His name’s Joshua.”

“I like that name.”

She poured herself tea, which steamed. “Would you like some?”

“No, I’ve just had a cup.” An inquisitive gaze was on me. “Aren’t you handsome?” I smiled at the baby, who stared with big, blue eyes. “How long have you been working for Mr. Carlyle?”

“Since yesterday. That’s when he hired me. He came in by wagon, but the wet nurse continued north to cross at Laporte. They really need to build a rail line this way.”

“Yes, they do.”

“He’s with the railways, you know. He’s workin’ on a link to Denver City.”

My eyes widened. “Oh, I see.”

“I heard him talkin’ about it.”

I leaned in. “I know I shouldn’t ask this—”

“Where’s the wife?”

I nodded sheepishly.

“She died during childbirth.”

My smile dropped. “That’s sad.”

“I don’t know much more than that.”

“Haven’t you a husband?” A memory toyed with me, but it failed to materialize.

“We were never married.” She took a sip of tea. “He’s…somewhere else now.”

“You have Joshua and another child, correct?”

“Yes, Judy. She’s sleeping.”

“How old?”

“Five. She’s quite the helper when it comes to feedin’ the babies. They’re always hungry at the same time.”

“Do you have enough milk?”

“Oh, plenty,” she laughed. “No fear in runnin’ out where that’s concerned.” Her expression was thoughtful. “You’re a part of the Hoffman clan, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I’m afraid.” I grinned. “You can’t throw a stone in Denver City without hitting one of us.”

“How many families are there now?”

“Goodness, five, and then my sister’s recently married. Well, two years isn’t exactly recent, but it was the last family wedding, until I have mine.”

“Who’s your beau, if you don’t mind me askin’?”

“No one now, but I’ll have one at some point. I don’t plan on being an old maid.”

She set the cup in the saucer. “Men ain’t all they’re cracked up to be, honey.”

“I’m sorry you’re having problems.”

“I got a job now and food and a place to stay. I have no right to complain.”

Joshua had fallen asleep in my arms. “He’s out.”

“You can put him in my room. I got a little crib on the floor.”

I smiled at Megan, as I got to my feet. “I’ll be back.” Her bedroom lacked a window, although a lamp had been lit. There was a blonde-haired child sleeping on the bed, snuggled up with a brown teddy bear. I placed Joshua in the crib, laying him on his back. When I returned, I poured a cup of tea before sitting again. “Your children are lovely.”

“Thank you.” She sat back, sighing. “Enjoy the peace while it lasts.”

“How many women applied for the nanny position?”

“A handful, but they were awful.” Her look was inquisitive. “You’re very young, Mary. How old are you?”

“Eighteen.”

“Then not as young as I thought.”

“I’ve been minding children for years. I’ve two younger brothers as well, and they’ve always been challenging.”