Chapter 3

The Coleson estate buzzed, practically from the crack of dawn. Iagan was a man who did not stop moving and probably never would—neither in brain nor body. Never had Oscar met a more intelligent—or more energetic—being. Not something a man used to the later night life exactly enjoyed. But Oscar had found himself awake early. The girl’s words the night before had settled badly with him. Made him restless, in a way he did not like.

Had he really come across as she had said? Arrogant and insulting?

His mother had raised him better than that. Some slip of a girl had reminded him of that. And haunted him in his sleep for hours. Something about her eyes…

Girl had seen right into him. And not liked what she had found.

“You seem a bit unfocused today.”

“Hardly the environment for focused study, Iagan. Your estate seems to be a bit busy. ” There were three day maids, currently serving breakfast to the Colesons and their guests. The beautiful redheaded queen of it all sat at the opposite end from her husband—practically in another county, considering the size of the table—surrounded by her little flock of Scottish sparrows.

The smallest sparrow, with reddish brown hair and a light blue dress, caught his attention, almost against his will. In the light of day, it was hard to miss that she was a beautiful woman. Young, but very beautiful. Ethereal. Oscar could most likely watch her all day without getting the least bit bored, he decided. That gave him pause.

Men would want her. As soon as they got a good look at her, they would want her. Not always the scrupulous kind either. Especially once they learned she was orphaned and alone in this world. Many would just think to use her and not be gentlemanly about it at all.

No wonder her little friends tended to keep her hidden behind them.

No. He did not foresee it taking too long for Miss Beatrice Ardis to find herself a wealthy husband in this part of Texas—especially with Iagan to watch over her, to ensure her safety. The area was rich in resources—and in rich men. Men looking for a fit young bride to help create the next generation. Oscar’s irritation rose as he imagined it. Some would want her as nothing more than a damned brood mare. He knew how rich men operated.

It would be far too easy for one to take advantage of her. And Iagan, with his good-hearted naiveté at times, might just miss it.

“I prefer the term industrious . Workers will be here in the next hour to help me plan where I am putting my new hospital’s plumbing . Six fully modern exam rooms, Collins. I can justify the cost of making it ten , if you want in. Maybe even justify the cost of an x-ray machine. If you can convince me of their uses,” Iagan said, smiling at him with an irritating smirk. Looking like a redheaded jackass, there at the far end of the dining room table the great laird of Coleson Keep had made himself for his new bride. King of the manor—that suited this man to a T. “You’re welcome to retreat to the library while I am occupied, if you’re so inclined to pass. I know you are taking the meaning of ‘on holiday’ literally.”

Oscar sipped his coffee. This was a game they were playing. Iagan knew he was interested. It was one reason Oscar had agreed to come to the Colesons for the holidays in the first place—he usually spent holidays with his family in Wichita Falls. He’d been practicing out of Finley Creek—but it was a bit of a crowded place, considering the Barratts had started their own practice there. Oscar had found he was a bit of a loner, even in his career.

Besides, he and Dr. Tucker Barratt, a man twenty-something years’ Oscar’s senior, had had several major differences of opinions in recent times. Oscar wasn’t interested in working for that man too much longer. He greatly respected and admired that man, but it was time for Oscar to build his own reputation.

He wanted to be where he could make a real difference—Garrity and Coleson were thriving, growing communities. He could be valuable here. Leave the Barratts their hospitals up in Finley Creek County and Barratt County.

Oscar wanted in on the ground up. He wanted to build something he could be proud of. And Coleson could be where that happened. It wouldn’t be small forever. Not the way the area was growing. There were mines nearby, within a day’s ride. That meant prosperity. “I’m in, Iagan. You know that.”

He studied the room again; they were right there, five beautiful women, laughing and happy. Of course his attention would be on them, and not on the mundane details of work. Especially this early in the morning. He was a healthy, red-blooded man after all.

They were making ornaments to trim the large pine tree in the corner, their chatter filling the air. Beatrice caught his eye again—the girl was industriously making ribbon snowflakes for the other girls to dip in starch. She had such an adorable look of intense concentration on her face.

She was odd. Different. Not quite awkward, but he got the impression the group activities were a struggle for her. But the others somewhat protected her, guided her. Coddled her. Protected—they definitely protected her.

Unlike the others, she wasn’t chatting or laughing, nor did she seem flustered by the task at hand. It was the intense focus that had captured his attention. When one of the other girls—Agnes, if he recalled correctly—asked for help, Beatrice handed over the beads without hesitation, but her own hands remained busy as she adjusted a ribbon at just the right angle.

It wasn’t idle perfectionism. She seemed genuinely absorbed in her work, her precise mannerisms setting her apart from the activity around her.

The other women fluttered. Beatrice did not. No. A man watching her would never be bored. That was a bit of a frightening concept. “Strange little bird.”

“What was that?” Iagan looked at him, then at the women. Of course he would—Iagan was fascinated by his own beautiful Scottish bird. He stared at Elspeth like an idiot occasionally. Still.

Oscar understood—he was a bit fascinated by Elspeth Coleson, too. Probably always would be. But Beatrice…also very, very intriguing. From a purely academic perspective, of course.

Oscar waved a hand. “Nothing. Just noticing your wife’s protégées seem to have settled in well enough.”

“They’ve done more than that,” Iagan said, his tone thoughtful. “Elspeth’s been planning their arrival for months. They are her family, Oscar. All she has. Remarkable women, all of them, even little Beatrice, and she’s the youngest of Elspeth’s little flock. I’m going with the bird analogy; it fits them.”

“Sure they have.”

Iagan chuckled softly, closing the ledger and leaning back in his chair. “You’ve spent how long in Garrity County now? Half a day? You’ll forgive me if I trust my wife’s assessment of women she’s known their entire lives over yours.”

Oscar’s smirk widened. “I don’t need months of observation to form a conclusion.”

“Is that so?” Iagan asked, like he was laughing at Oscar again.

Oscar shrugged. “She’s quiet, methodical, and… peculiar, perhaps. But that’s not the same as resilience. Texas requires a certain kind of grit. Not everyone has it.”

“And you, of course, are the authority on grit,” Iagan said, his lips twitching in amusement. “And on Beatrice. But not the other little birds, I take it?”

“I’ve seen enough of the world to know what it takes to survive in a place like this. I’ve spent the last year traveling Texas and Oklahoma, doing what I can for these types of rural areas. Backward areas, Iag. I’ve seen what these kinds of places can do to young, fragile women like her. Beatrice strikes me as someone better suited to a quieter life. A clerk in a bookshop, perhaps, or a nanny.”

Or married off quickly to a wealthy gentleman who could keep her in a soft, safe environment. Protected and loved forever. Who would give her flowers and trinkets to make her smile—and books. She’d probably be more thrilled with a stack of books than a pearl necklace.

A life that would be easy, with a doting husband, only one or two children, and domestic help to make her burdens even less. She was the kind of girl a man would want to coddle and protect. Give that girl her books and her ideals and a safe place to hide from the nastiness that life could be. While her husband stood between her and the demons of the world however he could.

No. A place like Garrity County was going to be too harsh for her. Without the right kind of man to take care of her. But there would be plenty that came looking at her. As soon as word got around that the Colesons were playing host to four beautiful young marriageable women. There would be men on the hunt looking for their brides. Women were outnumbered in this part of Texas. It was just a given.

And most men wanted mates eventually. It was the nature of things. All anyone had to do was read Darwin’s work to see that. Or perhaps men just got bored and a woman almost guaranteed a way to relieve such…boredom. Among other things. Iagan was certainly a lot calmer since Elspeth had tamed him. It surprised him there wasn’t a redheaded infant squalling already. It was just a matter of time.

Iagan didn’t reply immediately, instead glancing toward the women decorating the tree. Oscar turned, and just looked at them again. It wasn’t exactly a hardship. Beatrice had her little snowflakes laid out across the massive expanse of the table. Lined up like little soldiers. She was nitpicking them, and the other women were teasing her slightly. But it was gentle teasing. They were good friends, no denying that. Elspeth hushed the other girls, and put a hand on Beatrice’s shoulder. Beatrice smiled.

She had a beautiful smile. Genuine.

Some man would be calling on her soon. It was just a matter of time. From what he knew, they had only been in Texas less than two weeks. It would happen eventually. Maybe even by spring. If it took that long. Elspeth was already talking about who they were inviting to her first Christmas ball.

“You see what’s on the surface. Especially Bea. Many see her that way, underestimate her,” Iagan said at last. “But Elspeth sees deeper. So do I, for that matter.”

How intriguing. Oscar just studied the other man. Iagan understood people, in a way most just didn’t. Even Oscar, and he wasn’t a slouch. “And what is it you see?”

“A survivor.”

“A survivor? She’s what—nineteen, twenty? She hardly seems old enough to have survived much of anything.” But he remembered her face when she’d been giving him a talking to last night. There had been memories in those extraordinary gray eyes.

“You’d be surprised.” Iagan’s tone had grown quieter. Sadder. In a way that had Oscar looking at him again. “Beatrice doesn’t share her story often, but when she does, it stays with you. Losing her family and friends the way she did, almost her entire community, rebuilding her life from nothing… that kind of experience leaves a mark. Especially on one so young. She’s young in years, Oscar, but not in life. ”

Oscar considered this, his gaze drifting back to Beatrice. She had moved to the opposite side of the room, carefully arranging a small display of candles on the mantel. Her movements were precise, almost ritualistic, as though every detail mattered. While the rest of her friends chattered behind her.

“But resilience isn’t the same as thriving. She still seems… helpless.”

That was what it was. She seemed like everyone just helped her, with everything.

Iagan shook his head, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. Oscar hated that particular expression on that particular face. It usually meant Iagan knew something he wasn’t going to share. “Don’t judge so quickly. She is not helpless at all. She actually lived alone the longest in Scotland. Supporting herself for three years, I believe. Until the other girls convinced her to move in with them in the house Agnes’s father had owned, to help them all with the financial burden. Beatrice has more strength than you give her credit for. It’s just quieter than what you’re used to.”

“Quiet strength? I’m not sure such a thing exists.”

Oscar just watched her. He made no secret that he was watching the young ladies. The three older little birds were well aware of it. Two—Agnes and Mora—were mildly flirtatious, without being inappropriate. The third girl, Isobel, spent most of her time criticizing the others and resting from some illness he hadn’t learned the details of.

She especially seemed to be critical of Beatrice.

Isobel sent furtive, flirtatious glances at Oscar that he did his best to ignore. She seemed like a fine girl, but he did not like how Isobel seemed to single Beatrice out for correction. When Oscar’s favorite of the little birds had truly done nothing wrong. Beatrice obviously did not understand what had upset her friend so greatly.

Beatrice knelt next to the fire for a moment. The position revealed a rather nicely shaped feminine behind. The light from the flames cast a soft glow on her face, making her look mysterious and…beckoning. Beatrice was a very beautiful girl. They all were, but she had something different about her.

Too bad he was too damned old for a girl like her. He had to be a dozen years older than Beatrice, at least. But a man would not be bored with Beatrice. Far from it.

She was a bit fascinating.

“You’re staring,” Elspeth’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Observing,” he told the equally fascinating redhead next to him. She’d stepped up to her husband’s side. Was touching Iagan gently on the shoulder. Iagan’s hand was settled on her waist, and he pulled her closer. They just seemed to draw toward each other when in range. He had never understood that. It had barely been a year, and it was Iagan-and-Elspeth now, instead of the Iagan he had always been. “I am a man of science, after all.”

Elspeth raised a brow, her expression knowing. “She’s an experiment of yours now?”

“She’s very peculiar. Though I suppose your little friend has her charms.” Oscar tried to keep his tone as bland and almost dismissive as possible. He did not want Elspeth getting ideas. But Beatrice did have her charms—her physical appearance, her obvious intelligence—she was the most well-read of the little birds and quick-witted, too. She often asked Iagan some question or another about his hospital the evening before—questions that had had surprising insight.

But she did not act like the other young women around her. Not fully. And sometimes, she took them entirely too literally. Almost comically so. And the girl had a great shyness—it was like she was incapable of meeting people eye-to-eye at times.

Especially Oscar.

And there was this little fluttering thing she did with her hands when she was thinking or upset that made a man just want to capture those hands in his and hold her still. See if her skin was as soft as it looked.

He supposed those things did combine to make her appear peculiar.

Then again, she had only been in Texas a matter of days. Some difficulty adjusting was to be expected. Elspeth had adjusted just fine, after Iagan had brought her to America. And after that nastiness from before. Elspeth was probably only a handful of years, if that, older than the little bird in the blue dress.

Elspeth laughed softly. “She’s not peculiar, Oscar. She’s…special. You just have to take the time to see it.”

There was where he disagreed. The girl was most certainly peculiar.

What on earth would a man want with peculiar?

He would leave peculiar for some other poor sop out there. He had a career, a legacy, to build.

He didn’t have time for a girl like her.