Marrying the Major. Victoria Bylin

his children. With that thought in mind, Tristan rode with the pretty governess in resolute silence.

       Chapter Five

      Caroline couldn’t fault the major’s logic about having her ride with him on Cairo, but she felt like a sack of potatoes, one in danger of sliding to the ground and splitting open. With her arms belted around his waist, she heard every beat of Cairo’s hooves. She distracted herself with questions about the man before her. Why had he come to America instead of returning to England? What had his wife been like? And the malaria … How did he cope with the fevers? And what provisions had he made for his children?

      Unable to stand the silence, she decided the children were a safe subject and surrendered to curiosity. “Major Smith?”

      “Yes?”

      “I’d like to hear about Freddie and Dora.”

      He hesitated. “You already know their names and ages.”

      “Yes, but I’d like to know about them. What do they like to do?”

      “They’re children, Miss Bradley. They entertain themselves.”

      Miss Bradley made it clear his earlier kindness was to be forgotten. It annoyed her but not nearly as much as his refusal to talk about his children. He seemed cold again, even austere. Having lost their mother, Freddie and Dora needed their father’s attention, and if his current behavior was any indication, he seemed unwilling to give it. If she’d been blessed with children, she’d have cherished every smile, every new adventure.

      She rode with the major in silence, staring straight ahead until they reached the livery stable marking the beginning of Wheeler Springs. A row of buildings included a barber and bathhouse, a dress shop and a mercantile with its doors propped open. The shopkeeper stepped outside with a broom. Seeing their arrival, he waved a greeting.

      Major Smith answered with a nod, a gesture that reminded Caroline of a returning soldier in a parade.

      Across the street she saw a café with yellow curtains, and she thought of the wonderful food at the café run by Mary Larue, now Mary Quinn. At her wedding, Mary had placed her bouquet firmly in Caroline’s arms, a gesture Caroline knew to be futile. For whatever reason, God had said no to her prayers for a family of her own. Instead He’d brought her to Wheeler Springs to love the Smith children, a cause she intended to embrace.

      Halfway through town, the major turned Cairo down a road that led to a three-story house with paned glass windows, a wide porch and a cupola. Square and painted white with green trim, it reminded her of the houses in Charleston.

      “Where are we?” she asked the major.

      “My town house. We’ll leave for The Barracks in the morning.”

      Once broken, the silence between them felt sharper than ever. Where was the man who’d helped her out of the river? The one who gave peppermint to his horse? The closer they rode to the house, the more rigid the major became until she felt as if she were holding on to a lamppost. They were still several paces away when the front door burst open and a little girl came charging across the porch. Dark hair framed her face and accented her rosy cheeks.

      “Daddy!” she cried.

      The major heaved an impatient sigh. “I gave orders for the children to stay at The Barracks.”

      The thought of children being ordered to stay away from their father struck her as heinous. Why would he do such a thing? She wanted to take him to task, but she was in no position to initiate such a conversation … at least not yet. She settled for a calm observation. “Dora is lovely.”

      He said nothing.

      “You must be very proud of her.”

      “I suppose.”

      Appalled by his apparent indifference and moved by Dora’s obvious need, Caroline tried again. “Does she like to play with dolls?”

      He said nothing, though he hadn’t looked away from his little girl. Did he know what a gift he had in this precious child? Caroline wanted to lecture him, to warn him that such gifts could be snatched in a blink, but then she realized that he knew it. Major Smith was afraid to love his children because he was afraid of dying and leaving them to grieve.

      Caroline watched over his shoulder as a boy with the major’s blond hair and stiff posture joined his sister at the top of the two steps connecting the porch to the ground. “That must be Freddie,” she said more to herself than the major. “He’s a handsome lad, isn’t he?”

      Major Smith reined Cairo to a halt. “You should be aware, Miss Bradley, that I expect orders to be followed. And I left specific instructions for the children to remain at the ranch.”

      She couldn’t resist a bit of defiance. “Apparently not everyone obeys you, at least not when children miss their father.”

      Without turning or twitching, the major spoke in a tone just for her. “Courage becomes you, Miss Bradley. Rudeness does not. I suggest you mind your own affairs and leave me to mine.”

      He’d snubbed her, rightfully so, considering her position in his household. Stranded on his horse, she wanted to escape his nearness but feared sliding off and ending up in a heap. She settled for releasing her grip on the major’s waist and looking for Jon. He rode up next to them, swung off the packhorse and helped her down with a gentleman’s ease.

      “There you go,” he said in a friendly tone.

      “Thank you.”

      Bessie halted Grandma next to the packhorse. After Jon helped her sister dismount, Caroline asked him to retrieve a small bundle from their possessions. It held gifts for the children and she wanted to present them now. Assuming Major Smith would introduce her, she waited while he tied the reins to the hitching post.

      She turned her attention to the children. Dora’s eyes were wide with curiosity. Freddie reminded her of his father, both in looks and in temperament. He had a stoic expression, a sign he’d learned sadness and loss too young. Dora needed a smile and a hug. Freddie needed to know she’d respect his quiet nature. Already Caroline felt challenged by the differences in the children.

      Major Smith indicated she should step forward. For the first time since leaving the river, she had a clear view of his face. Creases fanned from his blue eyes, deeper and more numerous than she’d seen this morning. The line of his mouth pitched downward in a frown, or maybe it was a grimace against exhaustion. He wasn’t a well man, and the trip to the stagecoach had cost him. Compassion tempered the frustration she’d felt toward him moments ago.

      She came forward as he’d indicated, watching the children for their reactions. Freddie snapped to attention. Dora leaned against her brother and acted shy. Caroline was glad she’d brought the doll. Little Dora desperately needed something to hug.

      The major spoke in a firm voice. “Good afternoon, children.”

      “Good afternoon, Father,” Freddie answered.

      Dora hid her face against her brother.

      “Come forward, please,” the major said. “I’d like you to meet Miss Caroline Bradley, your new governess.”

      Freddie took Dora’s hand and guided her forward. The protective gesture touched Caroline to the core and reminded her of how the major had gently guided her out of the river. His cold attitude to the children hadn’t always been a wall between them. She suspected that losing his wife and facing an illness had changed him.

      When the children reached the ground, they stopped four feet in front of her. Freddie looked up at his father, a soldier ready to take orders. Dora looked at her toes, a little girl who didn’t know what to do. Aching for her, Caroline stepped forward and dropped to a crouch so she could look into the child’s eyes. They were blue like her father’s and no less haunted. A harrumph told her she’d crossed the major, but she didn’t care. He could be cold and