Kitabı oku: «Four-Karat Fiancee», sayfa 3

“She applied for a position in my office soon after returning to Montana,” Clarence said. “My first impression was that Rita had changed from the young, and I suppose I have to say somewhat flighty, woman I recalled from her earlier days in Pine Run. Rather than skirting the issue, as some might have been inclined to do, she was forthright about the details of her life in Minnesota and how she’d become a widow there. When she went on to candidly admit that she needed a job to support her children, I decided to take her on for a probationary period to see how things went. As it happened, she turned out to be a good worker, and I came to like her more than enough to be both shocked and saddened by the accident that took her life.”

“Thank goodness the children weren’t with her in the car,” Amanda had to say, having already learned during the initial phone conversation with the lawyer that Rita had been on her way to pick them up at a baby-sitter’s house after work when she’d apparently hit an icy patch in the road.

“Mr. McFadden is ready to see you now,” the young brunette acting as receptionist told them. “His office is just down the hall, first door on the right.”

They followed directions, and in a matter of seconds Amanda met Haynes McFadden, supervisor of the local division. The long and lean man with a balding head rimmed by sandy hair in turn introduced a middle-aged woman occupying one of the visitor’s chairs set in front of a modern oak desk. “This is Louise Pearson, one of our longtime and most dedicated employees. Mrs. Pearson is currently handling the Bradley case.”

That name got Amanda’s attention in a hurry. Although they’d never met face-to-face before, she knew that Louise Pearson was no stranger to Jester. In fact, she’d been the social worker involved in the case of a baby left in the Brimming Cup coffee shop shortly after Amanda’s good friend Shelly Dupree—now Shelly O’Rourke with her recent marriage—had become one of the big jackpot winners. Although the episode had ended happily with the mother’s eventual return to claim her child, Amanda had no trouble recalling how Louise had been described as a person to be reckoned with.

As if to prove it, the woman with dark brown hair well-threaded with gray and pulled back in a neat bun, rose to her feet and squared sturdily built shoulders covered by a plain navy suit. Her sharp hazel eyes met Amanda’s gaze head-on.

“I have the children waiting to meet you in another room,” Louise said, her tone brisk. “I’ve already explained the relationship to them, but I’m sure they still have questions. It might be better if you took a few minutes to get acquainted before we come back here for a more private discussion of the details of your situation.”

Well, this was it, Amanda thought. She drew in a steadying breath. “All right.”

“I’ll wait for you here,” Clarence told her as he lowered himself into a visitor’s chair. Again he was being tactful, and Amanda had to be grateful one more time. It would be hard enough, she suspected, to keep her composure without an audience around.

At a gestured invitation, Amanda followed Louise across the room toward a side door. The older woman paused with one hand on the knob and glanced back at Amanda. “Before we go in, I think it would be wise to get something straight. The bottom line with me is that I want what’s best for these children.”

Recognizing the truth underscoring that straightforward statement, Amanda replied, “So do I.”

Louise studied her for a moment. “I’m glad to find we agree on that.” And with those words, she opened the door.

Stepping through it, Amanda found herself in a narrow conference room. At its center stood an oval-shaped oak table currently covered with a variety of coloring books and crayons, and seated around it were the children who had already made a permanent place for themselves in Amanda’s mind.

Now, watching as four pairs of brown eyes stared back at her—eyes so much like her father’s…and like her own—Amanda felt the impact of that sight hit her straight in the heart. Her sisters and brothers, she thought. On the day each was born, they had become a part of her, and she a part of them.

“Hello,” she said, summoning the brightest smile she could.

It won her a smile in turn from the smallest person in the room, a little charmer with a chubby-cheeked face framed by tiny golden curls. In contrast, the other children, all with hair as short, blond and curly as their youngest sibling, merely continued to stare.

Louise formally introduced them, although Amanda already knew the basics regarding their names and ages. Seven-year-old Liza was the eldest. Like her younger brothers, Caleb and Patrick, she was as slender as a reed. Only eighteen-month-old Betsy was more round than slim. All were dressed in a colorful mix of well-worn cotton pants and long-sleeved T-shirts.

Amanda pulled out a padded oak chair and took a seat next to Liza, who held Betsy in her lap. “I’m so happy to meet you.” She let her gaze connect with each of the children as she looked around the table. “I’m Amanda, your—” she had to swallow against a sudden tightness before she got it out “—big sister.”

“Amadaba,” Betsy said, offering another smile.

“I guess it is quite a mouthful,” Amanda admitted with a slight curve of her lips. “How about if you all call me Mandy?” No one except her parents had ever used that name, but at the moment it seemed undeniably right.

“Mandeee!” Betsy declared, clapping her tiny hands.

“Yes, you’ve got it,” Amanda told the pint-size girl.

“She’s very smart,” Liza offered in a small voice that nonetheless held more than a hint of pride.

Amanda nodded. “I don’t doubt that for a minute. In fact, I wouldn’t be a bit amazed if you’re all smart.”

“Why?” That question came from five-year-old Caleb, who sat across the table.

“Because our father was a very smart man.” Which was no more than pure fact, Amanda reflected with assurance. It would have been surprising if anyone had ever contended that Sherman Bradley was less than intelligent. No, whatever his weaknesses had been, they couldn’t be blamed on any lack of brainpower.

“So we got the same daddy,” Patrick, the youngest boy at four, summed up with a solemn look. “And now he’s in heaven, with my mommy.”

Tears pricked at Amanda’s eyes, but she refused to give in to them. These children, she told herself, didn’t need any more tears in their lives. What they needed was someone to love them.

And she did. There was simply no question about that. The sheer truth was that she’d fallen head over heels at her very first sight of them. “I know you’ve all been through a bad time, but there are better things ahead.”

“Like what?” Caleb wanted to know, a small glint of what might have been hope gleaming in his gaze.

Amanda knew she had to pick her words carefully. She couldn’t tell them they would have a home with her. Not yet. “Well, for one thing, you get to live in Montana.” It was as enthusiastic a statement as she could make it. “You know, not too far west of where we are now there are mountains so tall they almost seem to touch the sky, and rivers that run so fast the fish don’t even have to swim—the water just pushes them along.”

Both boys smiled at that while Betsy clapped again. Only Liza continued to fix Amanda with a wary stare.

“Do cowboys live there?” Caleb asked, seeming to be the most curious of the group.

“Not only there, but all over this state,” Amanda told him. “They wear wide-brimmed hats with straight-legged jeans and shirts with shiny snaps down the front.” All of which described the Western-style clothing the Heartbreaker Saloon’s owner favored.

Abruptly an image formed in Amanda’s mind, one she ousted in the next breath. She didn’t want to think about Dev Devlin and the fact that he’d probably waste little time in tracking her down when she returned to Jester. He’d no doubt be champing at the bit to learn if she was going to let him make her an offer for her property. And she was, she knew, if it would mean keeping these children out of a foster home run by strangers.

“I wanna be a cowboy,” Patrick said, regaining her attention.

“Me be cabboy!” Betsy tossed in.

Amanda had to laugh. “Well, I don’t see why you can’t all be cowboys—and cowgirls.” She looked at Liza. “Would you like to be high on a horse’s back riding herd on a bunch of cattle?”

The girl shook her head, her expression still sober. “That’s just make-believe.”

“Not necessarily,” Louise countered in a soft tone, entering the conversation from where she stood near the door. The social worker didn’t look quite as formidable when she spoke to the eldest Bradley child. “Sometimes make-believe can come true.”

Although Liza said nothing in response, she looked far from ready to agree with that concept.

Louise redirected her gaze toward Amanda, and once again her voice turned brisk. “I think it’s time to let the children color some more pictures while we talk.”

No, it’s too soon for me to leave them, Amanda wanted to say. And didn’t. Rising, she again smiled down at her newfound relatives. “Goodbye for now,” she said.

“Bye-bye,” Betsy offered with a little wave.

Amanda’s smiled slipped as she struggled for her composure. Then she waved in return and headed for the door Louise held open for her. All she could think was that, no matter what it took, she had to convince the authorities that she was the right choice to care for four orphaned children. Somehow, she had to do that.

She had to.

DEV FIGURED he was pushing things when he walked into Ex-Libris the following morning, but the plain truth was that he’d had a hard time telling himself to wait at least a couple of days after Amanda returned from Pine Run before he learned how she’d made out. After their earlier conversation, he was just too optimistic to hold back.

With any luck, he thought, she’d tell him that her plan to gain custody was proceeding smoothly enough that all she needed was a hefty contribution to her bank account to seal the deal. Yeah, if good fortune was on his side, it wouldn’t be long until he’d be expanding his business while she relocated hers, and everyone would come out a winner.

Dev glanced around him, not much surprised to find the bookstore empty. It was still early, at least by Main Street standards. More than a few storeowners would just be starting their day. The Ex-Libris’s owner had to be around somewhere, though, he reflected as he walked toward a small sitting area at the rear of the store. And, sure enough, that’s where he found her, seated on one of a pair of burgundy leather love seats. Today she wore another of her tailored blouses with pleated wool trousers and was gazing down at something she held in one hand. As far as he could make out, it was a small photograph.

“Good morning,” he said as he came to a halt inches from a low, bowlegged mahogany table covered with a lacey white cloth. It wasn’t yet loaded with the homemade pastries Gwen Tanner would probably be delivering soon. Gwen was another Big Draw lottery winner and no longer needed to sell her baked goods to supplement the income coming in from her boarding house, but he’d heard that she continued to supply the bookstore, anyway.

Certainly Amanda Bradley looked as though she could use something to tempt her appetite and maybe perk her up a bit. No, a lot, Dev amended on closer inspection. For the second time in less than a week, she seemed to bear little resemblance to the stubborn female who’d regularly raked him over the coals.

“Good morning,” she replied, finally returning his greeting as she glanced up at him. She set the snapshot she’d been holding down on the table.

Dev got a better gander at it as he eased himself into one of the twin burgundy chairs that matched the love seats. Four curly-haired, towheaded kids grinned at the camera in a scene that featured a small Christmas tree in the background along with a few presents that looked freshly unwrapped. Apparently the kids hadn’t gotten a lot from Santa on that particular Christmas morning, but they looked happy enough with what they had. One thing for sure, their expressions were a lot more enthusiastic than Amanda’s.

“Things didn’t go well in Pine Run,” he said, deciding to cut to the chase as he stacked an ankle on a denim-clad knee and reached up to thumb back his Stetson.

“No.” She let out a thin sigh. “I tried everything I could think of to make them see the advantages of placing the children with me, but…”

“But they didn’t go for it,” he finished when her voice drifted off.

“And I don’t for the life of me know what I could have done differently.” All at once she raised a small fist and slapped it down on a plump cushion, displaying a hint of the temper he was more familiar with. “Oh, they were impressed that I owned a home, free and clear. They also appreciated the fact that I had a buyer not only ready but eager to purchase another piece of property, which would increase my immediate income.” The last came out with a wry twist of her lips and a meaningful look aimed his way. “But in the end they felt my sisters and brothers needed, and I quote, ‘a more stable environment than a single caretaker could provide.”’

“That’s a tough one,” he said, keeping his voice low.

“And then—” She leaned her head against the back of the love seat and studied the high ceiling. “And then they went on to say that the children would be placed into permanent foster care. All except the youngest, they told me oh-so-reasonably. Betsy’s only eighteen months old, so she would mostly likely be put up for adoption.”

“Jeez,” Dev muttered under his breath, watching as Amanda let out another, almost soundless, sigh.

“I can’t believe they’ll be separated.” How she felt on that score was as plain as the grim bleakness in her tone. “I’d give anything—do anything—to be able to change what’s about to happen to them.”

But what the hell more could she give? Dev asked himself, his own temper flaring at what seemed liked the injustice of it all. What did a bunch of bureaucrats expect her to do? As far as they were apparently concerned, a “single caretaker”—even one who owned a home and had a golden opportunity to add to her bank account—just didn’t fill the bill, and that was it.

So, being undeniably single, what was Amanda Bradley supposed to do? It was a devil of a problem, all right. And even with his money, he couldn’t help her solve it.

That’s not quite true, Devlin, something inside him said. There’s one thing you could do, but it would have to go a long way beyond getting out your checkbook.

Jolted by that thought, he made a stab at ignoring the voice rumbling in the back of his mind, only to find that he couldn’t block it out. Not any more than he could stop his gaze from again being drawn to the happy faces of four grinning kids—kids who just might be looking a long way from cheerful at the moment. He knew he’d have been a lot more successful in resisting the sight of those rosy-cheeked faces in his younger, wilder days. Back then, he’d had little trouble avoiding anything that didn’t involve his own immediate health and welfare.

But you changed when you decided to show Jester’s residents a thing or two by becoming a person they could respect, the niggling voice contended.

Dev drew in a long breath, admitting the truth of that. Even though he’d never had any desire to get tied up in town politics, these days he was by and large an upstanding citizen. But that didn’t mean the slate was wiped clean. Maybe he still had some private dues to pay for all the years when he mostly hadn’t given a damn about anyone except himself.

The man he’d once been would have scoffed at that notion. The man he’d become flat-out couldn’t.

Trouble was, Dev thought as he slowly lifted his gaze, the woman seated across from him might not hesitate to scoff. “In fact, she just might think I’m crazy if I even mention what I’m considering,” he muttered under his breath.

But the idea had taken hold, he couldn’t deny. Somehow, now that he’d latched on to it, it seemed pretty much the only thing to do. Which didn’t mean that he’d have a lot of choice except to let the whole business go if she did tell him he was crazy.

He just hoped to hell she didn’t laugh at him, because if she did, he was sure to start growling at her again and the truce they’d somehow managed to maintain for weeks would be history.

“It seems to me there might be a way to persuade the authorities to change their mind,” he said, picking his words carefully.

In response, Amanda continued to stare up at the ceiling. “I’ve been racking my brain ever since I left Family Services trying to come up with something. To me, it appears pretty hopeless, but if you’ve got a suggestion, I’m willing to hear it.”

He ran his tongue around his teeth, then just plunged in. “You could get married.”

That got her attention in a hurry. She abandoned the ceiling to stare at him. “I know we haven’t exactly been friendly since I came back to Jester and opened up my store, but most people here could probably pass along the news that I haven’t even been dating anyone lately. Believe me, there’s no husband on the horizon.”

“That could change,” he told her.

“Not anytime soon,” she countered.

“It could…if you married me.”

Chapter Three

Amanda’s eyes went wide. She couldn’t have been more astounded if Dev Devlin had just suggested that she strip down to her underwear and do a wild dance on top of the bar at the Heartbreaker Saloon.

“You have got to be kidding,” she told him in no uncertain terms.

“I’m not,” he assured her in the same candid tone. “Since you’re looking at me like I’ve gone right around the bend, though, I guess I should add that the marriage wouldn’t have to last all that long. Once we get through the adoption process and you have legal custody, there’s no reason the whole thing can’t be quietly dissolved at some point in the future.”

But she was still caught up in the here and now. “The two of us…married?” She couldn’t even imagine it.

“Boggles the mind, I agree,” he said dryly, looking her straight in the eye.

Amanda frowned as her brain finally started to function. “Why in the world would you so much as think of doing this?”

He shrugged a broad shoulder. “Could be getting a glimpse of those kids—” he dipped his head toward the photo on the table “—got to me.”

She had to stare at him. “I never expected you to be the sentimental type.”

“Me, either,” he confessed, just gruffly enough to have her suspecting that he’d been at least a bit surprised himself by the offer that had stunned her down to the ground.

It was a side of him she hadn’t seen before and made her wonder what else she didn’t know about Dev Devlin. Judging by his undeniable success even before he’d hit it big in the lottery, the former bad boy had become a shrewd businessman. Nevertheless, he was still far from a likely candidate for a married lifestyle. She simply couldn’t believe otherwise. “You can’t be trying to tell me you want to be a husband.”

He blew out what might have been an exasperated breath. “I’m telling you that I’d go along with it if it will keep four young kids from who knows what kind of future. I know we’ve been a long way from chummy in the past, but even you and I can agree on that score.”

Amanda didn’t have to have twenty-twenty vision to see the truth of his words reflected in the deep blue eyes that were all but drilling themselves into hers. He really was thinking of the children. And, as amazing as it seemed, she had to concede that his suggestion just might merit some consideration.

Desperation, she thought. That had to be it.

“There’s no guarantee, you know, that I’ll be allowed to adopt them even if I do get married,” she pointed out as the most practical part of her began to examine the situation.

He folded his arms across the wide chest covered by his short leather jacket. “Since you’ll be marrying a millionaire, they aren’t likely to quibble about the financial aspects, at any rate.”

Her chin went up in a flash. “I don’t want your money.”

A smile played around the corners of his mouth. “Believe me, I know that doesn’t even enter into it, not as far as you’re concerned.”

Her pride soothed, she said, “Good.” Then it occurred to her that walking down the aisle was normally expected to lead to sharing far more than a bank account.

“It would, of course,” she added very deliberately, “be a marriage in name only.”

His smile only widened in a way that, for some reason, put everything female inside her on full alert.

“No sex,” he murmured in a suddenly lazy drawl.

“None,” she shot back, telling herself that her pulse had only picked up several beats in delayed reaction to his startling proposal. Physical awareness had nothing to do with it. In fact, nothing physical—or emotional, for that matter—would have to be involved in a marriage in name only.

His gaze didn’t waver for a moment. “Well, the new house I plan on moving into this weekend has enough bedrooms that four kids plus two adults will fill them up nicely.”

“If we decide to go through with it,” she tacked on, far from ready to come to any conclusions.

He nodded. “It’s your call. If you say the word, it shouldn’t take more than a few days to set things up. We can get a judge to marry us at the courthouse in Pine Run and head over to Family Services the minute it’s done.”

And could the marriage be annulled if they failed to get the authorities to change their mind? Probably, Amanda reflected, though she was beginning to doubt that question would even arise. Something told her that Dev Devlin could be persuasive when he wanted to, even if he hadn’t managed to bring her around to his way of thinking after months of trying to buy her out. She’d dug in her heels because her emotions were involved, and monetary gain had come a distant second.

If one looked at the custody situation logically, however, as the authorities were bound to do, placing her sisters and brothers in the care of a married couple whose financial circumstances couldn’t be faulted had to be considered an advantage as far as the children were concerned. And the fact that one half of that couple was a close—and undeniably caring—relative could surely only be viewed, even by the sharp eyes of most dedicated of government employees, as another plus.

But would they question the fact that the caring relative and her new husband cared about each other?

Amanda watched her companion brush a stray strand of hair off his forehead. Once that thick, wheat-colored hair had nearly reached his shoulders, she remembered. Now it was cut short enough to be judged conservative. “Have you considered the fact that, even if we went through with it, we may well have to convince Family Services that our marriage is a love match?”

He mulled that over for a moment. “I’d say we can do it.”

“How?” she had to ask.

“I can talk a pretty good tale,” he told her. “Believe it or not, some people have even been known to think I have my own brand of charm.”

She would have liked to snort at that—might have actually done it if she didn’t know that this man was a big hit with more than a few of the ladies in Jester.

“All you have to do is follow my lead,” he added, “provided you decide you’re willing to go through with this.”

Was she willing? That, Amanda knew, was the real question. Certainly she’d never planned on becoming a bride strictly out of necessity, and she was by no means sure how many of her feelings she could put on hold. Even if this was a marriage in name only, with no physical or emotional commitment, could she enter into it as a purely practical means to achieve a goal and see it end without regrets?

Because it would end, eventually. The nature of their relationship up until this point and the fact that they were basically so different was enough to have her certain that she and Dev Devlin would go their separate ways.

But not before they had the opportunity to do their best to ensure the safety of four young orphans. And that was the bottom line, she realized. Hadn’t she said she would give anything—do anything—to change their fate? Now she’d been given the power to at least make a real attempt to keep them together as a family. Her family. All she had to do was say…

“Yes.”

Amanda got the word out, maintaining a steady gaze on someone she’d never by any stretch of the imagination considered husband material. “Yes, I’m willing to go through with it.”

AT LEAST she hadn’t laughed at him. Dev figured his ego would have to be content with that, because it hadn’t escaped his notice that Amanda had hardly been eager to accept his offer yesterday. It was his fault for going off half-cocked and offering in the first place, he supposed.

Not that he was sorry he’d done it. Not when you considered the fact that he’d had no trouble sleeping last night, and if he’d turned his back on those tow-headed kids, they’d probably have haunted his dreams. So he wasn’t sorry, and the best thing to do now was make sure things went off without a hitch.

“What’s new in the world?” Roy Gibson asked as he stacked clean glasses behind the massive oak bar that stretched nearly the length of the saloon.

Dev glanced up from the Billings newspaper he hadn’t been paying much mind to. His usual routine was to read the Billings Gazette from cover to cover, along with the smaller Pine Run Plain Talker, and most mornings he had little problem concentrating on the news of the day. Not so today, though.

“Nothing major happening that I’ve latched on to so far,” he replied truthfully enough to the man he’d hired as the Heartbreaker’s head bartender once business had begun to pick up and the place had started making a regular profit. Now he’d taken on another bartender, as well, but Roy continued to be in charge whenever the saloon’s owner wasn’t around.

“I reckon anytime a headline doesn’t leap out at you, that’s good news,” Roy said in the Western twang he’d never lost from his earlier days in Texas. He could pour a draft beer with the precision of a skilled surgeon, although as far as appearances were concerned, he favored the outlaw look of a Willie Nelson—long gray braids and all.

Actually, when it came to news, Dev thought as he shifted on his stool and reached for the thick coffee mug resting next to the spread-out paper, he had some that would probably have jaws dropping all over Jester once it hit. Until the knot was tied, however, he and Amanda had agreed to keep it under wraps.

“While I think about it,” he said, “I won’t be around next Monday. You and Lonnie will have to handle things between you.”

Roy dipped his head in a nod. “No problem. Mondays are usually slow, anyway.”

Which was true enough, Dev knew. That’s why he’d picked it as his wedding day. As for today, once Irene Caldwell could come in and man the bookstore for a few hours, he and Amanda planned to slip away and make a quick trip to Pine Run to take care of the necessary details, so things would be all set for the ceremony.

He already had a good suit, one he’d had tailor-made for him to celebrate his big win. As to what Amanda would choose to wear for the wedding, he had no idea. It was a pretty good bet, though, that it would be something the fancy magazines called “stylish.” Which meant the last thing he wanted to do was look like a small-town hick when they stood together in front of a judge. Maybe he’d never spent much time in a really big city, but he could look as though he belonged in one if he had to.

“You wouldn’t be following Dean Kenning’s example and sneaking off for a hot date, would you?” The question came right along with an amused glint in Roy’s eye.

Dev had to chuckle, low in his throat. More than a few of the town’s citizens had often suspected that the bachelor barber had done more than buy lottery tickets for Jester’s longtime players when he’d made his weekly trips to Pine Run.

“I’ll leave the hot dates to Dean,” Dev said, and didn’t miss the way Roy’s gaze abruptly turned probing.

“Seems to me you haven’t been doing any dating lately.”

Dev sipped his coffee. “Maybe I’m saving myself for a good woman.”

“A good woman?” Roy threw his head back and roared. “You’re gonna have me splitting my sides if you keep talking like that.”

“Don’t laugh too hard,” Dev advised, deciding it wouldn’t hurt to plant a few seeds before the news of the wedding got around. It probably wouldn’t do Amanda’s chances of getting custody any good if the real reason behind the marriage became general knowledge. “I just might think it’s time to change a few of my habits when it comes to the female half of the population,” he added.

And maybe he’d already made that decision somewhere along the way, he admitted to himself. The plain truth was that he’d been living like a monk for a while now, and not because he’d lacked opportunities to spend some private time with a woman—including Mary Kay Thompson, a pert, permed blonde with a penchant for wearing tight capri pants and thin tank tops who’d set her beady sights on him after failing to get to first base with Jack Hartman after the local vet had become another of the “Main Street Millionaires,” as some people had dubbed the winners.

If he wanted to take a guess as to why the considerable charms of willing women in general, and the all-too-eager Mary Kay in particular, hadn’t moved him, Dev supposed he’d have to say that his hormones seemed to be waiting for something else. Something…more. Hell, as far as sheer honesty went, the only woman he’d even thought about so much as kissing lately was—