His Brother's Bride by Denise Hunter Page B

clenched at the thought. Did he dislike the influence she had over his son? When had she come to care so much what he thought of her?
    Her gaze darted to him, and in the brief instant, she knew why she cared so much. She was falling in love with him.
    She glanced at him again, her fingers trembling with the discovery. Was it somehow written on her face, in her posture? She felt sure it was and wished she could evaporate right then and there. She poked the needle through the stocking, and it poked her finger.
    She sucked in her breath.
    He looked at her then.
    She looked at her finger, where a dot of red bloomed, and blotted it with a handkerchief from her pocket.
    â€œYou all right?” he asked.
    She nodded, holding the cloth to stanch the flow of blood.
    Quiet settled over the room like a heavy fog. She wondered if he looked at her still, but hadn’t the nerve to check.
    Upstairs, Adam shifted in his bed, and the straw ticking crackled. The mantel clock ticked off time.
    â€œI’m sorry about how I acted upstairs.”
    She looked at him then, her heart in her throat. His expression was soft in the glow of lamplight, and her breath came in shallow puffs. He was so strong and masculine, yet sometimes she caught a glimpse of this gentle side and wondered at it.
    â€œIt’s good for him to call you ‘Ma.’ ” There was a glimmer of sadness in his eyes.
    A dark cloud of jealousy spread through her, but she pushed it away. It was only normal that Cade would be sad for his loss. For Adam’s loss.
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    Cade wondered if Emily could see the heavy thumping of his heart through his shirt. When she looked at him like that, with her doe-brown eyes all defenseless, he remembered that time in the attic when he’d held her in his arms. The familiar stab of guilt stopped the thought.
    He had to think about Adam now, and his need of a mother. He’d wanted his son to have a mother; that was a big part of why he’d married Emily to start with. But hearing his son call her “Ma,” seeing him embrace her, had sent an ache deep into the pit of his stomach. Ingrid was not here to be his mother, and though it hurt to see her replaced, Emily was a fine substitute. She would love him and nurture him the way a child needed.
    Emily’s face was mask of vulnerability. Did she think he was angry with her? Admit it, Manning, you were angry with her. Angry that she’s replaced Ingrid in Adam’s eyes.
    â€œYou’ve been good to Adam,” he said, wanting to allay her fears. “I reckon he’s taken to you like we both hoped he would.”
    She pulled the handkerchief off her finger and surveyed the pinprick, then twisted the white material in her hands. “I’ve grown fond of him.”
    She wetted her lips, and he wished for a moment that she’d said the words about him. Had she grown fond of him as well? The thought made his heart jump.
    As if she could read his mind, her face turned pink, and she looked down at her hands. “He’s a good boy; you’ve done well by him.”
    The words struck a note of pride in his father’s heart. He’d done his best, but Emily had given Adam something he’d badly missed. Gratitude for her swelled up within him. He’d gotten a mother for his child and a woman to care for all their needs, and what had she gotten in return? A place to live? How could he repay her for her sacrifice? He felt a deep longing to do something for her.
    â€œI appreciate everything you’ve done for him. For us.” He nodded and hoped the words hadn’t been spoken too brusquely. Words were not his specialty, especially flowery ones.
    â€œIt’s a privilege to care for Adam.” Her gaze avoided his, and he thought he’d embarrassed her with his gratitude.
    He wished briefly that she’d included him in her words. Did she count it a privilege to care for him as well? He knew the thought went beyond their