Page 24 of Brian and Cora (The Bachelors of Three Bend Lake #2)

P ounding footsteps sounded outside. Brian pointed toward the door. “Here he comes.”

Jewel’s father burst through the door, seeming not to see Cora, his only focus his daughter. He immediately calmed, bending to place his hands on his legs and panting for breath. “This child’s going to be the death of me,” he gasped out.

What an astonishingly handsome man. Hardly the misshapen oldster she’d originally imagined.

“Your daughter is growing up,” Cora said in a gentle tone. “Becoming independent.”

Torin jolted erect, shock contorting his face. “Jewel, come to Papa,” he ordered.

Jewel set down the dishcloth and pointed to Brian. “Papa, Bry-an ow.”

His shoulders were high and tight. After a brief glance, Torin didn’t make eye contact with Cora, instead, keeping his focus on Brian. “I overslept, and Jewel snuck away. She was worried about you. But I told her we couldn’t visit.” He slid a sidelong glance at Cora. “No disrespect meant, ma’am.”

“Torin, I think everything will be just fine.” But Brian’s underlying message to his friend seemed to be, I think she’s safe for Jewel.

Cora sent him a startled glance, surprised by the reassurance in his voice. Strange how he’s done nothing but bark at me since he arrived home. I’d never have thought he’d put in a favorable word about me.

Of course, having me safe with Jewel doesn’t mean he wants me nursing him.

Cora made sure her smile at the reclusive man was as warm and friendly as she felt. “Mr. Rees, I’m Cora Collier.”

He didn’t quite meet her eyes. “Call me Torin. Haven’t been called Mr. Rees since I moved here. Brings back bad memories.”

“And I’m Cora. I’ve been delighted to make your daughter’s acquaintance. I can tell Jewel’s a very special and a much-loved little girl. I look forward to her feeling comfortable with me.” And you, too.

Mr. Rees’s shoulders relaxed, and he met her gaze more directly. “I couldn’t agree more. But most people won’t see Jewel’s sweetness. Just that she’s not right.”

“I think—” Cora spoke in her firm nurse’s tone “—you both need to stop referring to Jewel as ‘not right.’ As the medical term for Jewel’s condition is Mongolism, that’s a more pertinent label than ‘not right.’”

Torin gaped at her, his blue eyes wide with shock.

“Jewel is the way God created her,” Cora continued her lecture.

“She’s meant to be her own very special self.

And—" she sent Brian a pointed look “—as I’ve told Brian, in my eyes, Jewel is quite right. She’s verbal.

” She gestured to the girl still engrossed in her dishwashing.

“She’s helpful. She’s empathetic. You’ve done a very good job raising her. ”

As she’d lectured him, Torin’s expression changed from shocked to astonished. He shot Brian a sheepish smile. “I’ve had some help with the raising of her. I consider Hank and Brian to be my daughter’s honorary uncles.”

“We’re brothers,” Brian said simply. “We fiercely love her.”

Knock me over with a feather. She never would have pegged Mr. Grumpy as a lover of children, especially one whom most people would label an idiot. But after observing his obvious care for Jewel, his friendship with Torin…. Something inside her shifted, softened. Something too dangerous to consider.

Torin relaxed enough to wave for Cora to take the other armchair. Then he scooted out a wooden chair from the table and sat, leaning forward toward Brian. “I’ve been so concerned about you and Hank since Elsie and Constance brought the news of the robbery and how you two fools joined the posse.”

“Hey!” Brian protested.

“The day after the Harvest Festival, the ladies made the trip up here, so we would know why Hank and Brian hadn’t returned and wouldn’t worry.”

Brian made a gruff scoffing sound.

“Right. And, thus, giving me the far more intense worry of if you two would survive a showdown with the outlaw gang. Went through some long days of waiting.” His eyes clouded, his expression holding a lost look.

“I tried not to let my imagination run wild, tried not to wonder what Jewel and I would do without you two, not to think of how lonely I’d be, or how she’d miss her uncles… .”

Cora’s healer’s heart ached, and she wished to move close, take Torin’s hand or touch his shoulder, something physical and gentle to reassure him.

But she needed to tiptoe very carefully around this wounded man.

She sensed something or someone had deeply hurt him, and he wouldn’t trust easily.

She cast a surreptitious glance at Brian. Neither of them will.

“When he returned to town, Hank hastened up the mountain to tell me you were injured, but alive, and expected to make a full recovery. Best news of my life.” Torin choked up.

“Did he also warn you about—” Brian’s voice sounded light as if he wanted to spare Torin any sign of emotion.

“—about the havoc poised to descend on our peaceful hamlet?” For the first time, the hint of a smile broke through the gravity of Torin’s expression. But the shadows lingered in his eyes.

Cora couldn’t help but chuckle at the apt description.

“Havoc, eh?” Brian sent Cora a baleful look. “I have a more forceful description, but I wouldn’t want you to cover Jewel’s ears.”

The diversion seemed to work, for Torin’s eyes lost their haunted look.

“Then, of course, Hank came out again to help out and direct all this.” He circled a hand to indicate the modified house and new furnishings.

“Warned me to sit tight. With this fine weather, Jewel has not been pleased to remain cooped up in the house. Probably one reason she escaped this morning.”

“Traitor,” Brian grumbled. “You should have put a stop to this foolishness.”

“Hank said he did his best to rein in Andre Bellaire. But since at the time, he was also laughing his fool head off, I didn’t give his protestations much weight.”

“To give him his due,” Cora defended their absent friend, “Hank did manage to check some of the more…ah, idealistic ideas. But someone still slipped in the doilies.”

“Doilies!” Brian looked around for them.

“They’re draped over the back of the wing chairs.” Cora spoke with exaggerated helpfulness, reaching up and back to pat the top of her wing chair. “One’s also behind your head.”

“So…” Brian glanced over to check on Jewel, happily engrossed in drying one dish at a time, before she stumped over to carefully place them on the rack. “Hank’s responsible for the brown velvet curtains?”

Cora couldn’t help a spurt of mischief. She put on her most innocent expression and metaphorically pushed Hank under the wagon wheels. “He is,” she simpered.

“Velvet,” he said in a tone of disbelief.

“There was some talk of gold tassels.” She suppressed the giggle that wanted to bubble up. “Blue or green velvet.” Unable to resist, she fibbed. “Red or Coral.”

“Red?” His eyes practically bulged out. “Did they think I live in a bordello?”

Cora lowered her eyelashes in a sign of mock demureness. “I wouldn’t know the color of curtains in a bordello.” She made herself sound shocked. “The ladies settled on brown, Hank telling them that being the color of your eyes. Although, personally, I prefer blue.” All true.

Brian shot her a suspicious look.

“I also recall a mention of how warm they’d be over the windows in the winter.”

He made a face, as if he’d bitten into something sour, glanced at Jewel, and clenched his jaw.

Cora had never bantered with a man before, and the laughter bubbling inside her made her feel effervescent. Who would have thought nursing could be such fun? She’d always thought of nursing as a serious vocation, shouldering the burden of caring for the injured, ill, and dying.

She refused to acknowledge it might not be nursing in general that was such fun, so much as nursing this man that made her feel this way.

Letting out an audible sigh, Brian cast his gaze heavenward, before looking back at Cora. “Guess I should feel grateful to be spared gold tassels.”

She let out a gurgle of laughter. “And lace edging your pillowcases and sheets. And a dozen handkerchiefs with ‘Hero’ embroidered on them.”

“Oh, my—” He bit off the curse. A gentleman, no matter how provoked, didn’t swear in front of a lady. Still this one certainly tried his patience.

As if amused by his inner dilemma, laughter danced in her eyes, although her expression remained innocent.

Pretty gray eyes. Cheeks pink with humor.

He growled at his wayward thoughts. I’m not supposed to notice the eyes and cheeks of my unwanted nursemaid. I’m supposed to be driving her away, not amusing her.

“A few ladies managed to embroider some handkerchiefs with your initials. Let me know when you’re in need of one.”

He was about to bark out that he didn’t need any monogrammed handkerchiefs, until he remembered the state of his old ones.

More often than not, he used them to wipe the ink off the nibs of his pen rather than wiping his nose.

He didn’t suppose his nursemaid would believe the excuse that the original linen had a pattern of black splotches.

Best ignore her. He turned to Torin. “Now that you’re out of your shell, oh tortoise, we can discuss this one’s unnecessary presence.” He poked an index finger Cora’s direction.

Jewel, having neatly hung her damp towel on a peg, wandered over and, with a trusting air, bottom first, maneuvered to sit on Cora’s lap.

Torin lunged forward, hand shooting out as if to stop her.

Both females ignored him. The woman leaned over, helping Jewel scoot deeper on her lap. Her skirt and petticoats rucked up, exposing her high buttoned shoes.

Brian couldn’t help eyeing where the leather encased her slender ankles and had a flash of his fingers unbuttoning the boot, pulling it off and unrolling her stocking, before caressing her bare skin and watching her pink toes curl.

“Bry-an, ow?”

Jewel saying his name jerked him back to the present.

Horrified by where his wayward thoughts had led him, he wrenched his attention back to the conversation, avoiding Cora’s gaze and focusing on the child. “I’ll be all right, Sugar Princess.” He handed her the candy, and then looked at Torin. “Taffy for breakfast?”

With a look of parental resignation, he nodded.

Happily chewing, Jewel leaned against Cora’s chest, her relaxed body showing her total trust.

With a Madonna smile, she dropped a kiss on the child’s head, before turning to Torin. “She’s so precious.”

She’s doing everything right. Torin and Jewel are certainly starting to trust her.

So am I for that matter.

But that realization only ratcheted up his suspicions. He’d trusted before. Trusted that smiles and coos at orphaned children and words about the importance of charity were genuine.

His fiancé had been all sweetness and charm until she got his ring on her finger.

Then Persephone started criticizing him and trying to change him.

She turned away in horror from any infirm or disfigured child or adult, not allowing any near her.

And she surely would have sent Jewel away instead of kindly inviting her inside and allowing the girl to sit on her lap.

Cora could just be a good actress, playing the role of Florence Nightingale. But her kindness might not be the real woman.

Don’t soften. Don’t trust.