Genevieve considered taking the curly-headed cherub with her to the library to talk to Adam, then changed her mind. Parker was fretful and would have been too much of a distraction. With all the pounding and shouting and laughing, she also knew that if she tried to put him in his crib, he’d have none of it. So she carried him out to the porch, sat down in the rocker Douglas had carried out for her, and let the baby rest against her chest and watch the chaos.
A shrill whistle made Parker jump. She soothed him with a gentle pat and a whispered word.
“Harrison, we could use your help,” Cole shouted. “Bring Adam with you.”
The screen door opened and Mary Rose’s husband came out. He had his daughter, Victoria, in the crook of his arm. He looked a bit guilty as he came across the porch to stand in front of her. Genevieve knew what he wanted before he asked. She shifted Parker to the left side of her lap so there would be enough room for his adorable seven-month-old cousin.
“Would you mind holding Victoria for a few minutes while I help build the platform?” he asked in his rich Scottish brogue. “She’s been fed and changed. My wife’s helping in the kitchen, but if you don’t think . . .”
“I can manage,” she insisted.
Harrison got his daughter settled next to Parker, patted both babies, then removed his jacket and tossed it on the railing on his way down the steps.
Genevieve had her hands full. Parker was determined to gnaw on Victoria’s arm, but Genevieve gently pulled her arm away and substituted his blanket. His thumb immediately went into his mouth, and he began to make loud slurping noises.
Travis came running up the steps. The sight of his nephew and niece snuggled together in her arms made him smile.
“You sure do have a way with babies.”
“It would seem so,” she agreed. She burst out laughing then, for her little charges looked up at her and smiled. Both babies were drooling.
“They’re perfect, aren’t they?” she said.
“Yes,” Travis agreed. “But it doesn’t seem fair that Victoria only has peach fuzz on her head and Parker has all the curls. They’re as different as night and day.”
She agreed with a nod. “Where are you headed?”
“To the kitchen to get my hammer and then to the library to get Adam to help us. He can do his paperwork later. The band’s going to be here by three, and we’ve got to be ready.”
As soon as he had gone inside, Genevieve began to rock the babies. A soft warm breeze, sweet with the fragrance of wildflowers, enveloped the porch, and she stared at the mountains in the distance. She felt as though she were sitting in the middle of paradise.
She began to sing a French lullaby she remembered from childhood days, a favorite because her mother used to sing it to her every night before she tucked her into bed. The lyrics were simple and repetitive, and the melody was innocent and joyful. The lullaby brought back memories of happier, carefree days. Genevieve closed her eyes, and for a few brief, precious moments, she wasn’t all alone. She was back in her childhood home, sitting in the big overstuffed chair listening to her mother sing as she pulled back the covers on her bed. The scent of lilacs enveloped Genevieve. She could hear her father’s laughter floating up the stairs and feel the peace and contentment of that house. She was once again surrounded by people who loved and cherished her.
Adam stood in the doorway watching her. He was just about to push the screen door open when she began to sing, and having no wish to interrupt her, he had turned to go out the kitchen door. The music pulled him back. The rich, lustrous timbre of her voice, so pure and clear, was surely as perfect as an angel’s, yet the look of tranquillity on her face was just as beautiful. The longer he listened, the more magical her voice became. Like a blade of grass drawn to the heat of the sun, he was drawn to the glorious melody. Captivated, he never wanted the song to end. He didn’t make a sound, didn’t move, and barely drew a breath as he let the music, and Genevieve, enchant him.
He wasn’t the only man affected. One by one the crowd of men working in the yard paused to listen. Harrison was bending over to pick up his hammer when her song reached him. He straightened up and tilted his head in her direction. Travis, carrying a stack of two-by-fours across his shoulder, was halfway across the yard when he heard her singing. Like Harrison, he instinctively turned toward the porch, then went completely still and closed his eyes. Sweat dripped off his brow, the sun beat down on his face, but he was oblivious to any discomfort. In fact, he smiled with genuine pleasure.
Douglas had a nail in his mouth and a hammer in his hand and was swinging his arm in a wide arc when he heard Genevieve singing. He slowly lowered his hand and, like his brothers, turned to the sound.
The hired hands were bolder in their reaction. They dropped their tools and moved in unison to the front yard, as though they were drawn by some inexplicable force to the heavenly melody.
The babies were the only ones who weren’t impressed. Both Parker and Victoria fell asleep during the first verse. Genevieve finished the lullaby and only then noticed the silence. She was given quite a start when she opened her eyes and saw the crowd watching her. One of the men began to clap, but a hard nudge and a reminder from his friend stopped the noise. However, her audience must have felt she was due some sort of appreciation, and within a few seconds every man there was smiling and tipping his hat to her.
Their grins were a bit unnerving. Embarrassed by their attention, she gave the men a tentative smile, looked away, and found Adam watching her. That was even more unnerving.
He smiled. She was so astonished she smiled back. His usual guarded expression was gone, and the look in his eyes was one she hadn’t seen before. He looked . . . happy. He didn’t seem so dangerous or fierce to her now, yet her heart was pounding a wild beat. The tenderness she saw in his eyes made him even more handsome . . . and how could such a thing be possible?
The screen door squeaked open, and he walked over to her. She stopped rocking the babies and simply stared up at him. He wasn’t smiling any longer, but he still looked pleased. She was feeling flush and in dire need of a fan. She needed to get hold of herself. She was behaving as though a man had never looked at her before. Under his close scrutiny, her usual confidence evaporated, and she was suddenly feeling like the shy, awkward little girl who had made such a mess of things the first time she tried to sing in the church choir. Fortunately, he was never going to know how nervous he made her.
He dropped to one knee in front of her. She couldn’t imagine what he was going to do . . . and then he reached for Parker. He was so very gentle as he lifted the sleeping baby into his powerful arms. He stood up, put Parker against his shoulder with one hand splayed against the baby’s back and then put his other hand out to her.
She moved Victoria into the crook of her arm and let Adam pull her to her feet. For several heartbeats they simply stood staring at one another. He didn’t say a word to her, nor she to him, yet the silence didn’t seem awkward. Perhaps the babies made them feel connected to one another for the moment. Adam’s fingers were entwined with hers, and she didn’t know if she should pull away or not
He made the decision for her when he turned toward the door. She had to let go of him then. She assumed he was going to put Parker in his crib and wanted her to follow with Victoria.
A few minutes later, both babies were sleeping peacefully in their cribs. She was putting the blanket around Victoria when she looked up to see Adam quietly stepping out of the room.
Oh no you don’t, she thought. You aren’t getting away from me this time.
She glanced over at Parker to make certain he was covered, then picked up her skirts and rushed after Adam.
He was waiting for her on the landing. Unfortunately, she didn’t know that. When she came running around the corner, she crashed into him and very nearly sent him flying over the banister. Had he been a couple of inches shorter and a few pounds lighter, she probably would have killed him, and, dear God, he never would have f
orgiven her then.
He buckled under the impact, let out a low grunt, and grabbed hold of her to keep her from falling down the steps.
Her sense of humor helped her get past her embarrassment. She burst into laughter in the middle of her apology.
“I didn’t want you to get away before . . . I’m so sorry, Adam. I didn’t mean to bump into you. Are you all right? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
He shook his head. “Are you always in such a hurry?”
His smile sent her heart racing. She stared up into his beautiful dark eyes and felt herself melting. She knew that if she didn’t say or do something soon, she would find herself married to him in no time at all. Why, oh why, did he have to be such a charming man?
“I’m sorry. What did you ask?”
“Are you always in such a hurry?”
“In a hurry? No, I don’t think I am.”
“We need to talk, don’t we, Genevieve?”
She vehemently nodded. “Yes, we need to talk.”
“We’ll need privacy.”
As if to underline that fact, the screen door slammed shut and Cole crossed the foyer below them.
“Yes, we need privacy.”
“Is something wrong?” he asked. “You seem a little nervous.”
“Nervous? I seem nervous?”
He nodded. She took a deep breath and ordered herself to stop repeating his every word. The man was going to think she was a twit.
“I am a little nervous,” she said. “Do you know what I think?”
He didn’t have a clue. “What do you think?”
“You and I started off on the wrong foot.”
“We did?”
“Yes, we did,” she insisted. “It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have told you I was your bride. I stunned you with my announcement, didn’t I? Well, of course I did. You obviously didn’t expect to find me in your bed. You looked so horrified, and you were in such a hurry to get away from me you were tripping over your own feet. I simply couldn’t resist tormenting you. I didn’t take offense over your conduct, but now that I think about it, I probably should have been insulted, or at the very least . . . Why are you smiling?”
He didn’t tell her the truth, that he was amused by her. The play of emotions that had crossed her face as she rambled on and on was comical. She was smiling one second and glaring up at him the next. He felt like laughing, and if she hadn’t been so agitated, he probably would have given in to the urge. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings though Genevieve obviously took the matter of their engagement seriously, and he was pretty certain she expected him to do the same.
It really was a hell of a mess, and he had no one but Mama Rose to blame for meddling in his private affairs. He would deal with her later, but now he needed to have a long-overdue discussion with Genevieve.
First things first. He needed to move away from her. He was standing entirely too close. Odd, but he couldn’t seem to make himself step back. Her scent, so light and feminine, made him think she’d bathed in lilacs. He liked it more than he thought he should. He liked just about everything about her. He even noticed, and approved of, what she was wearing, and he had never been interested in such superficial things before. Still, the starched, high-collared white blouse and white skirt were a nice contrast to her flawless coloring. She looked as prim and proper as a banker’s wife, and was as sexy as hell.
He shook himself out of his reflection. “Why don’t we go down to the library.”
“The library? Yes, we should go to the library.”
“Good idea,” he drawled out.
She inwardly groaned. She was doing it again, repeating his words. He was going to start calling her a parrot if she didn’t get hold of herself and stop thinking about foolish things, such as how deep and rich the sound of his voice was and how clean and masculine his scent was. He seemed to carry the outdoors around with him.
He really had the most devastating effect on her. She let out a little sigh. “I’ve been dreading this.”
“Dreading what?”
“Our private talk,” she said. “Shall we go and get it over with?”
She sounded as though she were on her way to a firing squad. He agreed with a nod and walked by her side down the stairs. When they reached the end of the back hall, he moved forward to open the door, then stepped back so she could enter the library first.
The room was musty and smelled of old books. She found it very pleasing and looked around in fascination and approval. There were hundreds of volumes lined up on cherry wood shelves from the ceiling to the floor, and more books were piled in stacks on the hardwood floor near the windows.
The library had taken on the character of the man who occupied it, she decided. She knew from Adam’s letters to his mother how much he loved to read, and she would have wagered every cent she possessed that he had already read every book there. He might even have read them more than once.
He motioned for her to take a seat. She chose one of the two overstuffed leather chairs facing the desk, sat down on the very edge of the seat, with her knees and her ankles pressed together and her back as straight as a ruler, and folded her hands in her lap.
She couldn’t sit still long. While he was getting comfortable in his chair behind the desk, she nervously began to tap her heels against the floor. She stared down at her lap so she could concentrate, and rehearsed what she would say to him.
She thought it would be better if she let him speak first, and after he was finished, she would then gently—yes, gently—explain that her circumstances had changed and she couldn’t marry him. She would be as diplomatic as a statesman so that she wouldn’t injure his feelings or damage his pride.
Adam sat back in his chair and stared at her, patiently waiting for her to tell him what was on her mind. After several minutes passed in silence, he decided it was up to him to begin. He knew exactly what he wanted to say to her, for he’d been thinking about it all week long. Why then was it so difficult for him to get started?
He cleared his throat. The tapping got faster and louder.
“Genevieve, I’m not certain what your understanding with Mama Rose was, but I—”
She jumped to her feet. “Oh, Adam, I can’t do it. I just can’t.”
“You can’t what?”
“I can’t marry you. I wish I could, but I can’t. I wanted to explain right away, but you’ve been avoiding me all week long, which makes me think you don’t really want to marry me anyway, and this personal matter wasn’t something I wanted to talk about in front of your relatives. It’s all so awkward, isn’t it? Your mother put both of us in such a peculiar position. Are we engaged or aren’t we? No, of course we aren’t. Will it surprise you to know that I do want to marry you, or at least I used to want to marry you? For heaven’s sake, don’t look so surprised. I’m telling you the truth. Everything’s changed though, and I can’t possibly marry you now. No, it’s out of the question, and even if you did want to marry me, well, eventually you’d find out about the trouble I’m in, and then you’d be horrified you ever entertained the notion. Do you see? I’m saving you from making a terrible mistake. I’m so sorry to disappoint you. Truly I am. You’re just going to have to get over me. Broken hearts do mend. There, I’ve had my say. We can’t get married, no matter how much you want to, and I apologize for deliberately misleading you. It was insensitive and cruel of me.”
She finally paused long enough to take a breath. She knew she’d made a mess out of her explanation, and even while she had been rambling on and on, she’d kept telling herself to stop, but she couldn’t seem to make herself do it. He probably thought she was crazy. His expression didn’t give her a hint of what he was thinking, and she could only conclude that he was too stunned to react at all. Some of the words she’d blurted out kept repeating inside her head. Dear God, she’d started out telling him she didn’t believe he wanted to marry her, and by the time she’d finished, she was insisting that his broken heart would mend. Oh, ye
s, he had to think she was demented. Mortified, she turned her attention to the wall behind him, pretending great interest in the framed map hanging there.
“I have to ‘get over’ you?”
She was relieved there wasn’t any laughter in his voice when he asked the question. She gave him a weak nod and said, “Yes, you do.”
“I see. You said you misled me. When exactly did you do that?”
She continued to stand and stare at the map while she answered him. “The night we met, I introduced myself as your bride. That was a falsehood.”
“Ah, yes, I remember.”
She dared a quick look at him. The warmth in his eyes had a strangely calming effect on her, and she began to relax.
“Are you always so self-assured?”
He laughed. “No.”
“I think maybe you are. You don’t get riled easily, do you?”
“No, I don’t. Did you want to rile me?”
“No, of course not. You really do have an odd effect on me. I’m very relaxed around your family, but you . . .”
“I what?”
She shrugged and then decided to change the subject. “Your mother didn’t tell me what a nice-looking man you were. It doesn’t change anything. I still can’t marry you, and I wouldn’t marry any man just because he was handsome. I’ve learned from experience that appearances are misleading.”
“Mama Rose didn’t tell me how pretty you were. Why don’t you sit down and tell me about the trouble you’re in. Maybe I can help.”
“Trouble? Why do you think I’m in trouble?”
Her voice rose an octave, and she seemed astonished that he would ask her such a question. He held on to his patience. “You just told me you were.”