Fool for Love (Montana Romance) (8 page)

“Oh, I’ll be quite all right,” she fumbled.

“You sure?”

“Quite sure.”

She dodged for the door before he could give her any more
reasons to abandon good sense.

As soon as she was safely in the hall she leaned against the wall and took a breath.  Her guilty panic shifted to a frown.  What kind of a woman would find a man so desirable that she would throw herself to ruin when she had already paid the price?

An answer wheedled its way into her gut as she made her way down the hall toward the outer deck.  A woman of no virtue and less worth, that was who.  A woman like her.

The morning sun did little to chase the gloom of that thought away from Amelia’s heart.  She took in a deep breath of sea air and walked to the railing, looking out over the ocean.  One day and they were already far from land.  The horizon stretched in a thin line around her.  There was no variation to the seascape.  It remained to be seen if there would
be any variation to her life.

She turned to walk along the deck, keeping close to the railing.  The ship’s crew was out in full force, mopping and cleaning the windows.  They tipped their hats to her as she passed, showing far more deference than she deserved.  One of two of her fellow first-class passengers were taking the early morning air along with her.  She received a tight smile from an elderly lady in a lace dress two decades out of fashion and her maid.  Something about the smile pierced Amelia’s heart.  They knew.  Everyone who looked at her could see that she was a wanton wretch.

A clattering crash on the deck below yanked Amelia out of her thoughts.  She stepped to the railing and looked down to the second-class deck.  The little boy from the day before, Christopher, stood in a pile of long sticks with crescent-shaped feet.  A dozen or so discs, some red and some blue, scattered around him.  He held one in each hand and looked as guilty as sin.  His eyes snapped up to meet Amelia’s just as one of the porters shouted, “Hey!  Kid!  What the hell do you think you’re at?”

Amelia jumped into action.  She raced along the railing until she found the stairs leading down to second-class.  By the time she reached the deck, the porter had Christopher by his collar and was shaking him and shouting, “Put those back!”

“Stop that!” Amelia hurried to the boy and the pile of sticks.  “Unhand him!”

“He’s damaging ship’s property,” the porter growled, letting Christopher go.

Christopher lunged toward Amelia, wrapping his arms around her.  He still held a red and blue disc in each hand.

“That’s no reason to manhandle him like that.  He’s just a child.”

“He’s upset the shuffleboard equipment,” the porter argued.  “It’s expensive stuff.”

“Is any of it broken?” she demanded, sheltering Christopher in her skirts.

The porter looked around, grumpy when he didn’t find anything shattered.  “Well he shouldn’t even be down here in the first place,” he said when he found nothing else to complain about.

“Then we’ll just be going.”  Amelia searched out Christopher’s hand.  “Giv
e those to me, dear,” she said.

He gave her the two discs and Amelia plunked them into the irate porter’s hands.  She then scooped Christopher into her arms and walked away from the mess.

“Hey!  Wait there!  Who’s going to clean this up?” the porter called after her.

“I believe that’s your job,” Amelia called back to him.

An anxious burr settled in her throat, but her shame over not helping was overpowered by her indignation at the way the man had treated such a small child.

That indignation melted entirely at the sound of rich, deep laughter.  She searched for the source of laughter only to find Eric watching her from the railing above.  He wore a broad grin that made his eyes shine.

“Oh dear,” Amelia mumbled, climbing the stairs to first-class as slowly as possible.  “We’re going to catch it now.”

But when they reached the first-class deck Eric greeted her with, “Now that was the finest display of backbone I ever did see.”

Amelia hid her embarrassment by checking Christopher, brushing the hair back from his face and making sure his sailor suit was in order.  He had a wad of candy wrappers in his pocket along with half a lollipop and a chunk of apple core.

“Christopher, were you rummaging in trash bins?” she asked, taking the rubbish from him.  She handed the mess to Eric, who accepted it with unconcealed amusement.

“I’m hungry,” little Christopher explained.

Amelia’s heart softened.  “Where is your mother?”

“I don’t know,” Christopher shrugged.

Amelia sighed and brushed the boy’s hair again.  “Well, let’s see if we can find her and get you something to eat.”

As an afterthought she kissed his forehead.  Christopher hugged her, resting his head on her shoulder.  She stole an apologetic glance at Eric.

The sparkle in his eyes as he watched her left Amelia tingling and restless.

“You got a way with children,” Eric observed as they walked along the deck.  His smile radiated a kind of pleasure that Amelia had never seen from a man.  “You’re a natural.”

“I’ve always loved children,” Amelia explained.  “That’s one of the reasons I took the position as the Hamilton’s governess instead of….”  She pressed her lips closed over what she had been about to say.  Instead she said, “Children are artless and innocent.”

“Oh, I don’t know how innocent that one is.”  Eric winked at the boy.  They passed a trash bin and he disposed of Christopher’s booty.

“A high-spirited child is not necessarily a naughty child,” Amelia explained.

“You can say that again,” Eric agreed.  She had the feeling he was speaking from experience.

“Naughty boys just need a little extra guidance and affection,” she said.

“Well, I had about as much of both as you could ask for as a boy and it didn’t stop me,” he confirmed her suspicions.  His broad grin faltered.  “Of course, Pop was always busy with the ranch and Mama had her hands full feeding and washing for us and for the ranch hands.  I pretty much only had Curtis to keep me company.”

“No brothers or sisters?” Amelia asked.

Eric shook his head.  “Nope.  I always envied people with big families too.  Truth is, nothing sets me to smiling more than the thought of a whole mess of kids like this one running around the ranch getting into trouble.”  He smiled and ruffled Christopher’s hair as they walked.

The eager, pulsing draw that Amelia almost had under control flared to new heights.

“I’ve always felt that large families are a blessing to those who are a part of them.  They provide more support and companionship when times get hard.”

“But you’re not close to your family,” Eric said.

“No.”  She lowered her eyes.  “But I always wanted to be.”

Eric chuckled in sympathy, squeezing her arm as she held Christopher.  “I like the way you think.”  His smile took on a whole new shade of warmth.  He blinked as though just realizing it and lowered his hand to the small of her back before dropping it entirely.

If it weren’t for the child in her arms, and the one growing inside of her, Amelia would be in serious danger of throwing herself at Eric.  She would have to help him and then separate herself from the temptation he presented as soon as possible.

On the trip over to England Eric’s days had been filled with nothing but expectation.  Now, on the way back, he had no expectations and no hope of better days whatsoever, but he had Amelia.  And Amelia had a way of keeping him tickled pink with every move she made.

“After the … confusion with Christopher this morning, I decided to learn about this game,” she explained to him and Ben Chase as they walked down the stairs from first-class into second.  “Apparently Henry VIII used to play it at court, and he hated to lose.  I would love to see a game in action, so I will teach you what I have learned and you can demonstrate.”

“Shuffleboard?” Eric drawled.  He shot a sideways look to Ben.

Ben shrugged.  “I watched it being played for a while yesterday.  Seems like it’s all the rage.”

“That’s what I was told.”  Amelia smiled as she led the two men to a wide section of the deck where several triangles had been painted on the boards in rows facing each other.  That smile was all the encouragement Eric needed.

A couple of games were already in progress.  The three of them stood and watched as competitors pushed small discs across the boards from one end to the other with big sticks.  One older man shouted in victory as his disc came to rest in the tip of the triangle.

Eric rested his weight on one hip and rubbed his chin.  “I dunno,” he said.  “It looks a might delicate to me.”

Amelia stepped to his side and took his arm.  “Challenge Ben to a game,”
she spoke softly near his ear.

The sea breeze freed wisps of her hair, blowing them around in spite of the hat she wore.  White-gold strands framed her face like a halo.  As if he needed
anything else to convince him.

“Well….”  He feigned reluctance to keep her clinging to his arm a little longer.

She pressed closer.  “Trust me on this.  I have an idea.”

Those words sent shivers of excitement through him, including places that were hellishly inconvenient on an open deck full of people.

“If you say so.”  He winked at Amelia then turned to Ben.  “How ‘bout it, Ben?  Wanna try your hand at this?”

“I don’t see why not.”  Ben smiled and patted his rotund belly.  You had to like a man who was well-settled but still up for a new challenge.

“Game play is simple, as I understand it,” Amelia launched into an explanation with charming enthusiasm.  She crossed to a case at the end of the painted boards and retrieved two long poles with crescents on the ends.  “You each take one of these and choose a color of discs.”

“I’ll take blue,” Eric claimed his color.

“Your loss, my friend.”  Ben thumped him on the back.  “Red is my lucky color.”

Eric caught the mischievous grin on Amelia’s pink lips as he took a pole from her and went to fetch his discs.  This might just be a good idea after all.

When he and Ben were both set up with equipment Amelia went on.  “Now you set a total score that you are trying to reach, I believe twenty-one is most common.”

“Twenty-one it is then,” Ben agreed.

“You choose who goes first and then slide your discs across the board, attempting to bring them to rest in a numbered zone of the triangle on the other side.”

“Well that shouldn’t take but three minutes,” Eric said, scratching his head and lifting the pole in his hands to get a look at it.  “One of them numbers is a ten and I got three of these disc things.”

“If your disc lands in the furthest area of the triangle it takes ten points away from your opponent,” Amelia told him.  The light in her eyes was downright impish.  If she wanted him to push those little discs all around the ship with his nose with Christopher riding on his back, he’d do it.

“Your confidence recommends you, sir,” Ben told him, puffing out his own chest.  “It will also be your downfall.”

“You think so?”  Eric lowered his pole and turned to face Ben as though they were about to take ten paces and draw.  “There ain’t many men that can beat me in a game of skill or chance.”

“Funny,” Ben replied with enough swagger to make him look ten years younger.  “They say the same about me.”

“Is that so?”  The glimpse of Amelia’s beaming smile as she watched and probably laughed at the two of them gave Eric strength.  “Let’s do this.  I’ll even let you go first.  Age before beauty, after all.”

Ben chuckled.  “It’ll be your funeral.”

Ben positioned himself with one of his discs at the foot of the triangle closest to them then made a show of sizing up the lay of the land.  Then he straightened and placed his pole behind his disc.  With a wink for Amelia he sent the disc skittering across the deck.

“Hey, no fair winking at my wife,” Eric exclaimed.  The words felt more right than anything he’d said in the past six months.

Ben’s disc came to a stop just left of the triangle.  “A man can’t help but admire the scenery when there’s something to admire.”

“Some m
ight think that was cheating.”

It was hard to keep a straight face with Amelia giggling.  Her eyes sparkled in the sunlight and rose-red played on her cheeks.

He stepped into place, clearing his throat to focus.  The urge to win the game for her welled up from somewhere deep in his gut.  He placed his pole behind his disc and gave it a powerful shove.  The poor disc flew across the deck, well past the triangle, and smacked into the boards of the wall behind it.  A player in the game next to them flinched and scrambled away, giving him the evil eye.

“Hell,” Eric muttered.  “It’s harder than it looks.”

“My husband is always putting full enthusiasm into everything he does, Mr. Chase,” Amelia commented from the side of the board.  “If you’re impressed with his game play, you should see the effort he puts into his ranch.”

Eric froze halfway through switching places with Ben.  A comment like that was anything but innocent.  A grin tickled the corner of his mouth.  He took his place by Amelia’s side while Ben took his next shot.