There was no way to adequately explain Miguel’s existence without labeling either Hunter or Castillo a bastard and Tanner a man with two wives. This was one reason he avoided social interactions with the Jamesons.
Tanner had grown up in Texas and married Castillo’s mother shortly after being injured in the war. It had been a simple ceremony in a chapel on Castillo’s grandfather’s property. But after Castillo had been born, Tanner had been lured to Montana Territory by the promise of wealth in the mines, and he’d forgotten about his first family. He’d soon married Isabelle Hartford, daughter of the wealthy Hartford family from Boston. Unlike with Tanner’s first wedding, however, all the appropriate papers had been filed to prove the marriage was legal and binding. Castillo’s mother had been heartbroken at the abandonment, but she’d eventually moved on and Miguel had been born from a new marriage.
The only hint Prudence gave that she thought the fact he had a younger brother named Miguel odd was when she paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth. She was so poised, with her back ramrod straight, that she didn’t spill a drop. “How wonderful. You’ll have a Harvard boy at your table before long,” she finally said, and carried on as if Castillo hadn’t laid one of Tanner’s biggest scandals at her feet.
“We’re very proud of the boy,” Tanner said. Castillo couldn’t help but glance at him in surprise, but the man’s gaze was on Prudence. Tanner had had enough practice playing the politician in Washington as he fought for statehood that he easily wrangled any awkwardness out of a conversation and smoothed it out. “He’s sharp as they come, if a bit wild from living his life out West. Boston will civilize him.”
“I’ve no doubt of that, but let’s hope he keeps some of that wildness about him. Too much polish dulls the edges. We could use more men in the world like your sons.” She winked across the table at Hunter, who threw his head back and laughed.
“I’ve missed you, Aunt Prudie. Never change.”
“Oh, posh, you can’t have missed me too much. Seems you’ve kept yourself occupied.” She smiled at Emmy and brought her wineglass up in a toast before taking a dainty sip, causing Emmy to blush.
Castillo couldn’t help but smile and took a drink from his own glass. Red wine wasn’t his first choice, but it went down smooth.
Hunter smiled at Emmy, and Castillo wasn’t certain his brother was aware of the naked love and adoration on his face for everyone to see. Emmy practically glowed beneath the power of his gaze. Castillo had to look away from their obvious happiness. He didn’t begrudge them their love, but jealousy tore at him, digging its claws in deep.
It wasn’t that he wanted Emmy for himself; it was that he wanted a wife. He wanted a family, love, devotion, the satisfaction of building a life together. All of that was supposed to have been his before his grandfather had been murdered and his home burned to the ground. In the years since, Castillo hadn’t been able to do anything more than fight to get back what was his. Looking for a wife wasn’t something he could consider right now. Especially when he only had danger and instability to offer her.
Tanner cleared his throat. “Tell us more about your trip, Castillo. How were the Andersons?”
For the first time, Caroline broke her silence. As soon as she opened her mouth, Castillo tensed, prepared to cover her mouth and drag her away from the table if he had to. “Yes, Mr. Jameson, I’d love to hear all about your trip.” She took a sip of her wine and shot him a challenging glance over the edge of her glass.
That glance landed like a punch to his gut. Her eyes shone up at him like sapphires, and he wasn’t sure why she was taunting him, but something in him liked it. A lot. Taking a breath, Castillo launched into a general retelling of his trip to Boston. The tale had the benefit of allowing him to control the conversation, so he didn’t mind, but he kept an eye on Caroline. She made sure her comments were benign, but her eyes snapped at him. She was planning something, but he didn’t know what.
“Did you take the train out?” she asked when he’d finished. Mary had just cleared their plates from the table, and Willy had given them bowls of hothouse strawberries with clotted cream. “Aunt Prudie and I took the number two train. You weren’t on that train, by chance? How serendipitous it would’ve been.”
Castillo clenched his jaw so tightly he nearly saw stars. She was playing with fire, and she damn well knew it judging from the glint in her eye. He shook his head but was saved from responding by Prudence.
“Oh, that would’ve been lovely. It was a beautiful trip.” She described the scenery they’d passed, leaving Castillo to glare at her niece. Caroline merely glared back.
Dessert was mercifully short, and then Emmy suggested they all retire to the front porch for brandy. Castillo gritted his teeth as he wondered how to get Caroline alone. He couldn’t let her out of his sight until he’d somehow garnered her cooperation.
“That sounds lovely, but I’m afraid that I must go upstairs and check on my father,” Caroline said, placing her linen napkin on the table and pushing her chair back to rise to her feet.
Castillo immediately rose and gripped her chair to assist her. “Your father?” How many potential allies did she have?
“Yes, he doesn’t travel well, I’m afraid,” Caroline explained.
“You’ll meet him tomorrow, dear.” Prudence rose. “My brother is a brilliant man, but he’s never taken to travel, and he suffered a brain attack two years ago that only exacerbated the issue. Go on up and check on him, Caro, but then come out and join us. It’s a beautiful night.”
Caroline cast him a glance that had him thinking she intended to go directly to her father and confess everything. For the first time that night, Castillo’s palms began to sweat. He had to talk to her before she saw her father. Desperate to stop her, he grabbed his wineglass and intentionally fumbled it, spilling the expensive Bordeaux across the tablecloth and down her skirt.
She gasped and jumped away from the table, but the damage had been done. The room erupted in a flurry of activity as napkins were gathered to blot the liquid, and the women crooned over the loss of the silk. Caroline’s eyes flashed with fire as they met his.
“I’m sorry,” he said. Prudence was quick to reassure him, but Caroline recognized it as the token apology it was. Her jaw clenched and she didn’t look away from him. She knew he’d done it intentionally.
Castillo caught Hunter’s attention, and gave a brief nod of his head toward Caroline. Hunter had no idea Castillo had met her on the train, but he knew that look and moved to get closer to her. He would be vigilant and stop her before she could say too much. Castillo turned and made his way upstairs to figure out which bedroom was hers. When she retreated to it to change her gown, he’d be waiting.
The housekeeper, a no-nonsense woman named Wilhelmina, or Willy for short, had appeared to join the legions of hands blotting at Caroline’s stained gown. “Let’s get you out of this gown. I’ll need to get some soap and vinegar on it before that stain sets in.”
In the day and a half she’d been at the ranch, Caroline had come to admire the woman. If anyone could get the wine out, Willy could. Not that Caroline cared overly much about the gown. She needed to get to her room and think about what to do. She’d never thought to meet the strangely appealing man from the train again, and not under a new identity. What
