short hair back with her fingers. When Nate had left his bed to help Hester deliver Richard, he hadn’t bothered to comb his thick hair. It had been in a wonderfully roguish disarray and the opening of his shirt had revealed dark chest hair.
Ann suddenly felt a need to be held…to have her insecurities soothed away. She wouldn’t have minded if that someone had been Nate. Tonight, he had earned her respect, something she gave to few men.
Ann sat in the seat next to Nate, wondering at the pleasant odor emanating from his hide coat. Or maybe it was from the man himself.or both. The smell was a combination of dried earth and sun, with subtle hints of wildflowers.
She crossed, then uncrossed her legs. A bad habit she seemed to have acquired since donning men’s trousers. Wildflowers, indeed.
She leaned forward and looked past Nate at the drawn curtains across the aisle. Hester and child were still sleeping peacefully. Ann settled back in her seat. She could hardly wait to hold her son in her arms.
A moment later, she caught herself twiddling her thumbs. Nate hadn’t spoken to her since he’d marched off with the whiskey bottle last night. She would have said something to him if she could have thought of something to say.
Though they weren’t touching, Ann could clearly feel his body heat. The same heat she’d felt in the dreams she’d been having lately. Nate would either be holding her hand, whispering sweet nothings or just staring at her, his black eyes full of hungry passion. It was those dreams that now made her want to lean against him and draw in his strength.
Ann unthinkingly crossed her legs again. There were plenty of things to think about besides Nathan Bishop. She glanced at the closed curtain once more. Why would a woman be willing to go through such pain to have a baby? Not that women had a choice. No wonder there were wet nurses, nannies and such. At least she would never have to go through such an ordeal. She had Richard.
Earlier, she had asked Hester if they should depart the train at the next stop and remain in a hotel for a week or so of rest Hester had quickly reminded her that money was growing short and, to guarantee their safety, they needed to get to Beau’s place as quickly as possible. Ann had considered Hester’s sacrifice to be the very epitome of bravery. Never, never again would she question Hester’s loyalty and goodness. A horrible thought suddenly entered Ann’s mind. Now that Hester had held Richard in her arms, would-she decide to keep him as her own?
“I take it you will be getting off the train?”
Ann raised a smooth brow. Had Nate read her thoughts? “Hester has assured me that she can get all the rest she needs on the train,” she replied, welcoming the conversation.
Nate nodded. “She may be little, but she’s strong.”
“Yes, she is,” Ann agreed. “Why were you in New York?” Ann asked, in a hopefully friendlier tone. Why hadn’t she thought to ask the question sooner? “Is that your home?”
“A relative passed away,” Nate said. “Have you picked a name for the boy?” Albert’s sudden, radiant smile startled Nate. He had been caught completely off guard.
“Indeed, I have,” Ann spouted joyfully. “Richard. Taken from Richard the Lionheart. Richard Edmund Huntington. You, sir, should be proud.”
Nate fidgeted. He was having serious problems with Albert’s smile. It had completely transformed the man’s face. Nate even found himself avoiding looking at the Englishman. Were Albert a woman, Nate would have described her as a fetching beauty.
“You helped deliver the future duke of Gravenworth.”
How come Albert had said Richard Huntington instead of Richard Potter? Nate wondered. Getting the answer from Hester would undoubtedly be a lot easier than getting it from Albert. “I know nothing of titles,” he commented, just to say something. He edged his body more toward the aisle.
Ann was shocked. “You know nothing of titles?” She had found a perfect topic of conversation. “How could you not be knowledgeable about something so important?”
“Important to whom?” Nate replied offhandedly. “We don’t have titles in America.”
“That’s what is wrong with your country,” Ann stated honestly.
Nate shoved his hat back. He was getting angry. Mostly because of his reaction to Albert’s looks, but also because every time they got in a conversation, the confounded man made his blood boil. “I didn’t know there was anything wrong with this country.”
For his own good, Ann decided she should enlighten the gentleman. “Had America remained under English domain, you would have discovered the many benefits. As duchess.” Ann bit the inside of her cheek. How could she have made such a slip? She had already said too much by giving the boy’s proper name. “Tenants are taken care of.”
“Tenants? I own my own land, sir, as do others. We fought to become a free people and we do not answer to some lord who holds court over us.” He still refused to look at Albert. “I don’t know what you’re so proud of. I met a gentleman from England once, and be couldn’t stop praising our vast, open land. He often spoke of the filth and poor in your country.”
His bitter, uncalled-for words stirred Ann’s ire. She had been trying to be informative. “Your friend makes it sound as if all of England is like that. It’s not. Your acquaintance obviously liked being around rabble.” She suddenly realized others in the coach were turning and staring at her. She lowered her voice. “How else could he be so ill informed,” she stated in a quiet tone of voice. “I no longer wish to discuss the matter.”
Nate finally turned and stared at the uppity Englishman, then immediately turned away. Albert’s eyes were the deepest green he had ever seen. “You certainly do have a tendency toward one-sided conversations. But we’re not in England and I’m not going to be dismissed. The man I spoke of is from nobility and had been here on a hunting expedition. He is more than qualified to make comparisons.”
“I doubt that your friend was nobility or knew anything about England. He undoubtedly enjoyed listening to himself talk. And how can you sit there and insinuate your country is devoid of the poor? What about the Irish? They are treated as slaves. And what have you done with your Indians? They receive more respect in England than they do here. Why. you don’t even have wet nurses!”
Nate stared blankly at Albert. What did wet nurses have to do with anything? It was impossible to follow the man’s logic. Albert looked away, undoubtedly dismissing Nate from his mind.
Nate clamped his mouth shut and ignored the festered pimple seated beside him. Last night he would have gotten drunk if he hadn’t run out of liquor. Actually, he would have enjoyed having someone to celebrate with. The successful delivery of Hester’s child had been a monumental moment for him.
Nate deliberately moved his thoughts to the past. It had been more than ten years since he’d delivered his own son. Some of the memories were faded now. He could no longer visualize running through the forest, searching for his wife, nor could he picture in his mind’s eye the bloody trail he had followed. But seeing her by the river, half-conscious and trying to give birth to their child was a sight that would be etched in his mind forever. He had tried to help, but he had lost them both. Fortunately, time did heal. Age also had a way of making a man look at things differently. He no longer blamed himself for what had happened, nor did he lie awake at nights cursing his fate.
Nate smiled inwardly.
This time everything had gone right. For him it was something like redemption. Richard’s healthy cry had been the most beautiful sound he had heard in many years.
For the next two days, it seemed that everyone on the train managed to find their way to their car, offering congratulations to the parents. Any hope of keeping herself and